Entertaining Angels
Read Entertaining Angels Online
Authors: Judy Duarte
MULBERRY PARK
ENTERTAINING ANGELS
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
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Copyright © 2009 by Judy Duarte
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eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-6786-3
eISBN-10: 0-7582-6786-X
First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: May 2009
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Printed in the United States of America
To Karen Solem, who encouraged me to reach higher and dig deeper. Thank you for your incredible support along the way.
And to John Scognamiglio, for his belief in me and in the Mulberry Park novels. Without you and your editorial vision, these stories would still be a dream.
Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.
—Hebrews 13:2 NIV
Chapter 1
Renee Delaney trudged along the sidewalk on her way to the bus depot, her leather soles scraping against a layer of city grit on concrete.
It was too bad she hadn’t put on her wannabe Sketchers when she’d left the house, but she’d been in a hurry and had slipped into the only other shoes she owned—a pair of worn-out brown sandals that had been resting near the cot in the back room where she’d slept. Now her toes were cold, and she had a sore spot just below the inside of her ankle, where the frayed strap had rubbed the skin raw.
The chill in the air caused her to shiver, and she drew her fists into the sleeves of her sweat shirt, which she’d chosen to wear because the extra-large garment hid the growing bump of her stomach. She’d never been fat in her life, but she wouldn’t stress about that now, or she might freak out at the thought of how big she was going to get.
Up ahead, a man wearing a tattered gray trench coat with a dirty, red-plaid lining pushed off the wall he’d been slumped against. As he approached, he grinned. “Hey there, little girl.”
Her stomach clenched, and her heart rate spiked. She knew better than to look away from him, so she eyed him warily and continued walking at the same pace.
As he approached, his smile broadened, revealing discolored teeth, the front one chipped. “Where you goin’, girl?”
Yeah, right. Like she really wanted him to know. She narrowed her eyes in a don’t-mess-with-me glare, which worked—sort of. He did walk past her, but his arm bumped her shoulder in the process.
He reeked of stale cigarette smoke and sweat on top of sweat. Cheap booze, too. And the horrible smell lingered, even after he passed her by.
She suspected he was homeless, just like she was.
Oh, God, she thought. Don’t let me end up smelling like that guy.
She blew out a sigh. She might not know where she’d end up tonight, but it would definitely have a bathroom and shower.
Speaking of a bathroom, she’d have to find one before she boarded the first bus leaving town.
She fingered the swell of her belly through the thick, cotton sweat shirt and caressed the bulge where her baby grew.
Just last week, she’d purchased a couple of blousy tops at the thrift shop, but that was before Mary Ellen, her mom’s second cousin, had dropped the bomb about moving out, and Renee had realized she was going to need every bit of cash she could get her hands on.
But who cared? She’d been homeless before—lots of times. Besides, this was only temporary. She’d get a job before the money ran out.
It would have been nice if Mary Ellen had let her stick around until the baby was born, though. But earlier today, the older woman had flipped out at the news.
“Pregnant?”
Mary Ellen had slapped her hands on her pudgy hips. “How could you be so stupid? You’re no better than your mother.”
Renee had wanted to argue, but how could she defend a woman she’d never really known?
“You’ll just have to get rid of it,” Mary Ellen had said.
Justin Detweiler, the father of the baby, had been blown away by the news, too, and had suggested the same easy solution.
But Renee had given both Justin and later Mary Ellen the same answer. “I can’t.”
She hadn’t explained why. For one thing, she wasn’t exactly sure—she just couldn’t do it, that’s all.
“Well, I’m not going to marry you or anything,” Justin had said. “I’ve got plans for college.”
Renee had plans for college, too, since she figured an education was her only hope to make something of her life. Of course, the academic option had poofed the moment that pink dot had formed on the home pregnancy test.
When they first hooked up, Renee had thought Justin was going to be some kind of knight in shining armor, but his body language had quickly put the kibosh on that. So did the way he’d stepped back from her, letting her know that their budding relationship had just taken a dump, and that it was all her fault. The jerk.
“I’ve got some money in savings,” he’d said. “So I can pay for it.”
At that point, she’d realized she’d better take whatever he gave her, even if she wasn’t going to use it for what he’d intended.
She’d tried to tell herself that she didn’t care about not having a boyfriend anymore—
and
not having a place to stay tonight—but that wasn’t true. She never had liked being alone, especially when it was dark.
“I’m not running a flop house,” Mary Ellen had said, her pinched face growing red. “I agreed to let you stay with me after your last placement didn’t work out, but I’m not taking on a baby, too. Get rid of it or I’ll call the social worker and have her put you back in foster care.”
That had scared Renee more than anything. Not for herself, but for the baby.
What if they took the poor kid away from her and put them in separate foster homes?
She couldn’t risk letting that happen. For some reason, she felt an almost overwhelming sense of responsibility for the
baby. Who else was going to love it and make sure it wasn’t sad or lonely?
So she’d packed up her things and headed out the door with all the courage and pride she could muster, her chin up, her shoulders straight. Well, at least for the first block or two.
Now, as the sun began to slip into the west and she neared the bus depot, she wasn’t so sure about anything anymore.
She shifted the shoulder strap of the gray backpack that held the most valuable of her possessions: the three hundred dollars Justin had given her—less the cost of a cheeseburger and fries—a fake ID, some baggy clothes, a plastic sports bottle filled with water, and a couple of granola bars she’d been hoarding in the closet-size bedroom that had, until earlier today, been hers.
Now she was on her own.
As a long line of parked buses came into view, a tall, shaggy-faced man turned the corner, heading in her direction.
He wore a baggy green shirt, faded blue jeans with a frayed hole in the knee, and a dusty pair of Birkenstocks that looked as though he’d had them since the ‘60s. She suspected he was homeless, too. Or maybe he was just a leftover, drugged-out hippie.
He smiled, and his eyes—the prettiest shade of blue she’d ever seen—zeroed in on her. She tried to give him the same back-off message she’d given the last guy who’d crossed her path, but for some reason, she wasn’t able to.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
Before she could turn up her nose or respond in a way that would tell him to go on his way, footsteps sounded at a pretty good clip. She glanced up to see another dude rounding the corner at a dead run, a black vinyl handbag tucked under his arm.
Renee tried to get out of his way, but instead of watching where he was running, he was looking over his shoulder.
Bam! He slammed into her like an out-of-bounds running back bowling over a cheerleader on the sidelines.
With her hands still tucked in her sleeves, she couldn’t break her fall and landed hard on the sidewalk. The purse snatcher stumbled, but caught himself and kept running.
“Are you okay?” The hippie-guy reached out a hand to help her up, and she pushed a fist through the sleeve opening and took it, surprised at the warmth of his touch.
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“How about the baby?” he asked.
The
baby?
How did he know she was pregnant?
Renee wasn’t showing all that much yet, especially in the bulky sweat shirt. So she cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow.
“The baby,” he repeated. “A tiny little girl, with curly black hair and green eyes.”
He was a hippie all right. And strung out on some kind of whacky weed or sugar cubes or something.
Renee managed the hint of a smile. “Yeah, she’s fine, too.”
“Good.” He nodded toward the bus depot. “You leaving town?”
Something told her to keep that info to herself, yet for some dumb reason she nodded.
“My name’s Jesse,” he said, as if wanting to be friends.
But she didn’t respond. He didn’t need to know who she was.
“Where are you headed?” he asked.
It wasn’t any of his business, so she should have shined him. But for some reason, she shrugged instead and said, “San Francisco maybe. I’m not sure yet.”
Actually, it might be nice to ride a bus all night long. That way, she’d end up in a new city and still have a whole lot of daylight left.
“Fairbrook is a better choice,” he said. “You know where that is?”
She nodded. It was another San Diego suburb, not far from here.
“The Community Church runs a soup kitchen,” he added, “so I’ll probably end up there.”