Entertaining Angels (28 page)

“Are you all right?” Craig asked.

Jesse straightened. “It’s just some stiff joints. I predict rain.”

Craig smiled and glanced at the darkened sky. “Oh, yeah? Even I could predict that with certainty.”

Jesse stooped to pick up a woman’s purse that had been sitting beside him, hidden by the bulk of his blue jacket.

“What are you doing with that?” Craig asked.

“I need to return this before the storm hits.” Jesse slipped his arm through the shoulder strap, then started toward the bus stop.

“Do you need a ride?” Craig asked. He also wondered where the guy had been staying, although he wasn’t sure where he could take him. Certainly not the Delacourts’ house, especially tonight.

Jesse offered him a smile. “I’m okay. The bus will be here in a minute or so.”

“Do you have shelter from the storm?”

“Not to worry. I’ll stay warm and dry.”

As big droplets of water began to fall from the sky, Craig remained rooted to the spot, watching the man go and wondering how he’d acquired so much common sense.

Or did he really have a gift?

By the time Shana returned home, her stomach was churning, and her knuckles ached from gripping the steering wheel.

A part of her wanted to put off telling her mother what she’d done, but she’d decided to get it over with. Her mom was going to have the same reaction today as she would have next week, so admitting to the breakup now would save Shana from days of the pre-confrontation stress.

Her dad’s car was parked in the drive, which was a surprise. There weren’t many nights that he left the office before dark.

Maybe it was just as well. This way, she’d only need to make the announcement once.

After parking next to the Mercedes in the driveway, she let herself into the house, her movements as stiff as those of a tin soldier.

“I’m home,” she said from the entry.

She was met with silence.

That was odd. Her mom usually dropped what she was doing to welcome her back into the fold, and her dad always had a warm greeting.

The soles of her shoes clicked upon the travertine flooring in the entry until she reached the carpet. As she made her way to the living room, she called out again. This time, her father’s voice sounded from the kitchen. “We’re in here, Princess.”

His tone seemed a little flat today, and she was both hesitant and apprehensive, as she joined her parents in the kitchen.

They were seated at the table. Her dad, with his clasped hands resting on the tabletop, offered her a smile that failed to reach his eyes.

Her mom couldn’t seem to give her even that much, but Shana could see why—her mom’s red-rimmed, teary eyes suggested that they’d been having a heavy conversation.

Shana’s first thought was that something terrible had happened to one or both of her grandparents. The second was that Brad had already told his mother, and Mrs. Rensfield had just dropped the bomb.

But that wasn’t likely. Brad was more tight-lipped around his parents than Shana was.

“What’s the matter?” she asked her mom.

“Nothing, honey.” Her mom sniffled, then blotted her eyes with a tissue she’d wadded in her hand.

“That’s not true.” Shana continued walking to the table, but didn’t take a seat. “You’re crying, and this time you can’t tell me they’re tears of joy. This family hasn’t been happy for a long time.”

The indisputable truth was met with silence.

Finally, her father leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I gave my resignation at the firm today, Shana. I won’t be working as a defense attorney any longer, and your mother isn’t pleased with my decision.”

Her mom dabbed at her nose with the crumpled tissue. “You’re giving up so much, Daniel. I can’t believe you’d do something like that without discussing it with me first.”

“I’ve given up a lot over the years, Cassie. And as for discussing this with you ahead of time, maybe I should have, but whenever I brought it up in the past, either you or your father shot me down.”

“Speaking of Daddy, he’s going to be shocked to hear of your resignation.”

“This isn’t about your father, Cassie. Leave him out of our family discussions for once, will you?”

Shana felt like a voyeur, and for a moment, wondered if she should slip quietly away.

You’re braver than you think,
the homeless man had said. Not that Shana had put much stock in that crazy encounter, but some of what he’d said had been true.

“What about the money?” Her mother’s gaze searched her father’s. “We won’t have the income we’ve become accustomed to.”

“Money isn’t the most important thing in life.”

“It is when you don’t have any.”

“Cassie, we’ve saved over the years, so we won’t be destitute. You can still be involved in your philanthropic endeavors.” He glanced at Shana, as if just remembering she was standing there, privy to the marital discord for the first time in her life. “We’ve set aside plenty of money for your wedding, honey. So you don’t have to worry about that.”

The wedding? Great. Shana now had the perfect opening for her announcement, but the timing was lousy. Her mom had already suffered one huge disappointment today.

But there had been enough tiptoeing around problems and disappointments in the past, and Shana couldn’t continue to play those games any longer. “I hate to drop this on you two now, but we may as well lay everything on the table. I just broke my engagement. I’m not going to marry Brad.”

“What?” Her mother’s eyes grew wide. “Why not? What happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Shana glanced at her father before explaining, saw the questions in his eyes. “I care about Brad, but I’m not in love with him.”

“Then why did you agree to marry him in the first place?” her father asked.

Why had she?

They were friends. She cared about him. And he’d always made her laugh.

His unannounced visit to Australia had flattered her, and she’d found him charming. So, with graduation closing in on her and no more reasons to postpone a return home to Fairbrook, accepting his proposal had seemed like the … perfect thing to do.

At that moment, the telephone rang—just like the bell in a boxing match, allowing the combatants to take a much needed break.

Her dad snatched the portable phone from its cradle. “Hello? Yes, Frank. Thanks for returning my call.” He opened the sliding door and took the call out on the deck.

“Who’s Frank?” Shana asked her mom.

“The district attorney. Your father would like to work for him, either as a consultant or as an attorney.” Her mother blew out a ragged breath, then slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe he did this. It makes no sense at all. Not now. Not at his age. He’ll be starting over.”

“Maybe he should have worked for the DA all along,” Shana said.

Isn’t that what he’d told her he’d wanted to do when he got out of law school?

“It would have made more sense than making a move like this now.” Her mother sighed again, as though expelling the air in her lungs would relieve the problems at hand. Then she fiddled with the edge of the crumpled tissue, tearing at it. “Your grandfather is going to be shocked.”

“Like Dad said, Mom. It’s not about Grandpa. It’s about all of us. But mostly, it’s about Dad and what he feels is the right thing for him to do.”

Her mom glanced up. “Of course, it is, but—”

“Oh, wow.” Shana finally took a seat. “I
am
guilty of repeating my parents’ mistakes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone said something to me, but I didn’t get it at the time.” She raked her fingers through her damp hair. “I get it now, though. It’s all falling into place.”

“How can you say that I’ve made mistakes,” her mother said. “My whole life has been spent trying to be a good wife and mother.”

“I realize that. But I think you’ve tried a bit too hard to be a good daughter, too.”

“What’s wrong with that? My parents were good to me, and I owe them that much.”

“Do you?”

“This isn’t like you, Shana.”

“What? Challenging you and your way of doing things? I’m sorry, Mom. I love you, but we’ve all been forced to live by Grandpa’s standards, even if they’re wrong for us.”

“He’s not the bad guy here. He never forced me or you to do things his way.”

“He has a very persuasive way about him, and I’ve just followed your lead. But not anymore. At least, not when I think he or you are wrong.”

Her mother massaged her temples, as if she could work out the knots in their relationships.

“You’ve been unhappy, too,” Shana said, her voice soft, sympathetic. “You can’t deny it. But this has got to stop.”

“What does?”

“Living someone else’s life.”

Her mom looked up, clearly confused. “Whose life do you think I’m living?”

“I don’t know. Your parents’? Dad’s? Mine? I’m not sure, but if you were more in tune with what’s in your own heart, you’d be a happier person.”

And so would Shana, especially if she took that same advice.

Her mom sat up straighter, yet her expression remained the same—cornered and distraught. “To be honest? I’m not even sure who I am anymore. Or what’s in my heart. Only that I love my family, and I feel it falling apart at the seams.”

“Then maybe it’s time you found out who you are.”

They sat in silence as the truth hovered around them, just out of reach.

Finally, her mom asked, “What about you, Shana. What’s in your heart?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” But she had an idea.

Running into Ramon at the park had taught her something. The handsome boy-turned-man still held a very precious place in her heart.

She’d like to date him, if he was the least bit interested. And if he wasn’t?

Then she’d head back to Australia and try to play catch-up with her studies. Either way, she definitely had some thinking to do.

Before either could respond, the doorbell rang.

Shana pushed her chair away from the table. “I’ll get it.”

Unable to help herself, she glanced over her shoulder as she was leaving the kitchen and saw her mom crumble when she thought no one was looking.

She didn’t want to see her mother sad or hurt, but she couldn’t continue to live a façade of the life she was meant to have.

Be strong, Shana told herself. Break the cycle. It wasn’t about her parents, it was about her. About her life, her dreams, her sense of right and wrong.

She proceeded to the foyer and answered the door. She wasn’t sure who she’d been expecting, but certainly not the bearded man she’d talked to in the park.

His hair was damp from the light rain that had begun to fall. He held up a purse in one hand and offered a smile. “I’m looking for Cassandra Delacourt. Is she here?”

“Yes, she is.” Shana glanced over her shoulder and called for her mother. While she waited for her to arrive, she gripped the edge of the door as though she could hold off the storm from battering her home.

Her mother stepped into the entry. “What is it?”

Shana moved aside, allowing the door to open all the way.

Again, the man lifted the handbag he held. “I found something that belongs to you.”

She eased forward and took it from him. “Where did you find it?”

“In a parking lot behind the shopping center on Elm.”

Cassandra reached into the purse and filed through the contents.

“It’s all there,” he said.

“It sure looks that way.” She opened her wallet, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and handed it to him. “Thank you for your honesty.”

“I didn’t bring this back looking for a reward.”

“Still, it’ll make me feel better if you take this.” She pressed the money into his hand.

“If you’re looking for ways to pay it forward, why not donate your time at the soup kitchen? Dawn and Joe Randolph can always use help.”

“Actually,” she said, “I already support the church and that particular charity, among others.”

The man slipped the hundred-dollar bill into his pocket. “Donations are fine and needed sometimes. But sometimes you need to do some actual foot washing rather than offer to pay for someone’s pedicure.”

Cassandra stiffened. “What are you getting at?”

“Sometimes you need to do more than write a check. You need to give of yourself to be truly blessed.”

Cassandra was speechless, and so was Shana.

Who was that man?

They watched him stride down the walk and onto the street. He walked past each of the cars parked along the curb of their exclusive neighborhood, continuing on foot as rain pelted his hair and clothes.

“I’m going to offer him a ride,” Shana said.

“You can’t do that, honey. He’s a complete stranger. What if he’s a drug addict or a serial killer or something awful?”

“I doubt it. He didn’t steal anything out of your purse, so he can’t be all bad.” As Shana started after the man, her mother
grabbed her arm. “I won’t let you go alone with him. Wait a minute. I’ll get your father, and we’ll both ride with you.”

Shana offered her mom a smile. “Nothing like a little hands-on charity work, huh?”

“He made it sound as though I wrote checks to absolve my conscience, and I don’t want him to think I’m heartless. I just hope your father understands what we’re doing and why.”

“Tell him that we’re going on a family adventure.”

Cassandra smiled wryly. “This is certainly a first for us, that’s for sure.”

Shana nodded toward the man. “I’ll ask him to wait.”

As her mom returned to the kitchen, Shana jogged to the street, calling out to the man. “Mister?”

He turned. “Yes?”

“If you don’t mind hanging out for a minute or two, we’ll give you a ride.”

“I’m not going far. Just to the corner of Fourth and Elm.”

Shana had spotted some new apartments near there. “Is that where you live?”

“No, that’s the bus stop.” He blessed her with a bright-eyed smile. “I thought I’d go to Debbie’s Diner for a cup of soup or something to eat.”

“We’ll give you a ride to the diner. And then we’ll treat you to a hot meal.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I know,” Shana said. “But humor us, okay? Our family is trying to put our lives back in order again, and we could use a new focus.”