Happily Ever After Read online

  “Too loud?” Kellie asked. She fumbled for the tiny volume wheel. “I’m sorry. I had it set pretty—”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s not working.”

  Kellie shook the device. “Oh. It must have gotten damaged.”

  The bus drove up a steep incline, slowed, and came to a stop. The door swung open with a hiss.

  Meghan expected to see more travelers climb aboard, but instead, the driver got up from his seat and announced, “Last stop. All out, please.”

  Instantly, silence descended as the travelers looked at each other, each hoping someone else would get up the nerve to leave the bus first. A few wiped at the condensation and tried to see out the windows, but no one moved from his or her seat. Finally, an old woman stood and made her way down the aisle. As soon as she’d stepped off the bus, others jumped up and followed her.

  Despite her earlier impatience to arrive at their destination, Meghan now found herself hesitating.

  Kellie put the MP3 player away and took a deep breath. “Then let’s go.”

  Not sure what to expect, Meghan followed her. She wanted to reach out and take Kellie’s hand but held herself back. They barely knew each other and would likely never see each other again once they got off the bus. The thought made her sad.

  Kellie made her way down the aisle and then stepped outside.

  Behind her, Meghan paused on the last step before squaring her shoulders and jumping down. Slowly, she looked around. Whatever she had expected to find, this wasn’t it.

  A lonely bus stop lay in front of them, fog wafting around it.

  Meghan and Kellie exchanged glances.

  Around them, the other travelers were whispering to each other, apparently not sure what to make of this either.

  “Are we to wait here or what?” Meghan asked. She found herself whispering too.

  “No idea. I’ve never made this trip before either.” Kellie gave her a small smile.

  Meghan had to laugh, but it sounded a bit hysterical. “I’d hope not.”

  A man with curly, gray hair got up from the bench in front of the bus stop. “Ah, the new group. Welcome. I’m Peter, your instructor. If you’d please follow me.”

  He led them along the deserted street, easily climbing the steep hill, even though he looked as if he were closer to seventy than to sixty.

  Finally, they reached a nondescript building at the top of the hill.

  “This is it?” Meghan whispered to Kellie.

  Kellie shrugged. “Doesn’t look like much, does it?”

  To Meghan’s surprise, the door of the building wasn’t locked, and there was no gate.

  Do they just let anyone in here?

  The group followed Peter inside and up a winding staircase that seemed to go on forever. Upstairs, golden light danced over polished hardwood floors and sparkled on the crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. Peter opened a mahogany door and led them into a room that looked as if it were too large to fit into the house that hadn’t seemed all that big from the outside. A giant oil painting of children playing on a flower-dotted meadow took up one wall.

  “Please, take a seat.” Peter gestured to a circle of chairs. “I know you had a long trip, so make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be right back to start your training, but there’s something I have to take care of first. As you can imagine, Christmas is a busy time around here.”

  He hurried out, leaving behind his group.

  Some of them started to pace while others looked around curiously. A woman wearing an apron lifted one corner of the oil painting away from the wall to see if there was anything behind it.

  Meghan wanted to look out the window but realized there were none. The room didn’t hold anything of interest either. Figures. Can’t give away all the company secrets to the newbies. That’s how she’d done it in soccer too. Never tell anyone your winning strategy if you weren’t sure you could trust him or her. She pulled Kellie with her to the chairs and took a seat.

  Kellie plopped down next to her and stowed her bicycle helmet under her chair.

  “Why do you keep holding on to that thing?” Meghan asked. “I don’t think you’ll need it here.”

  A blush rose up Kellie’s slender neck. “Sentimental reasons, probably. But you’re right, of course. I think the mode of transportation around here is a little different.”

  Meghan chuckled. “I just bet it is. Which reminds me… You still haven’t told me what brought you here.”

  Kellie slid to the edge of the seat, looking as if she wanted to jump up and escape. “Uh, it’s not that interesting a story.”

  “Let me be the judge of that. Come on. I’ll tell you mine and you tell me yours.” Meghan winked at her.

  Still, Kellie kept hesitating.

  “Come on. This may be our only chance before they assign us God knows where and we never see each other again.”

  “All right.” Kellie took a deep breath. “But if you laugh at me, I swear I’ll—”

  “Would I do something like that?”

  “Oh, yeah. You look like someone who’d have a good laugh about my story.”

  Meghan regarded her with a steady gaze. “And that would be so bad after a day like this?”

  Kellie sighed. “Guess not. It’s just embarrassing.”

  Too cute. Meghan suppressed a smile, not wanting her to think she was laughing at her already. “Okay, I promise to do my best not to laugh. Now, will you tell me? Please?”

  Kellie inhaled deeply. “I went on a bike ride earlier…”

  “On Christmas Eve?”

  “Why not? I’m single, so it’s not like there’s someone wanting to gaze at the Christmas tree lights with me.”

  The mention of Christmas tree lights made Meghan wince. Quickly, she shoved all thoughts of Christmas tree decorations away and focused on Kellie’s story. So she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Not that it matters. “Yeah, but it’s the middle of winter. When I woke up this morning, it was barely twenty degrees in New York. Not exactly balmy weather for a bike ride.”

  “It’s much warmer in Florida, so I ride like this all year. By the way, it’s not like you’re dressed for winter weather either.” Kellie gestured at Meghan’s favorite pair of pajamas.

  Meghan slid her hands over the geckos on her pajama pants. “What can I say? I left in a hurry. So, what happened then? On your bike ride?”

  Kellie stared at the tips of her cycling shoes. “I was riding down the street, rounding a corner, when—”

  A murmur went through the crowd of waiting men and women.

  Meghan turned her head.

  Peter strode back into the room and took up position at the head of the half-open chair circle. He waved at them to gather and listen.

  Meghan leaned over and whispered, “Don’t think you’re safe now. I want to hear the rest of your story.”

  “Later,” Kellie whispered back.

  They both leaned forward and focused their attention on Peter.

  “Welcome again,” he said and regarded every member of their group with a friendly smile. “I know most of you are not too happy about being here.”

  “Damn right,” a man two chairs to Meghan’s right said what she was only thinking.

  “And some probably thought they’d end up somewhere else.” Peter gave the man who’d spoken up a pointed glance, making him snap his mouth shut. “Some of you might even think they don’t deserve to be here. But rest assured, you do. It’s been a long-held tradition that whoever gets here on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day automatically becomes part of our special unit.”

  “Yeah, and probably gets a nice little uniform to go with that,” Meghan whispered.

  Kellie shushed her.

  Peter paused in his speech and looked at Meghan. “Oh, you’re right, dear. I forgot the uniforms. Be right back.” Again, he marched out and left the group behind.

  “Oh, boy.” Meghan sank against the back of her seat. “I thought they’d be better organized
here, but they’re worse than my girls. At least one of them always forgets her uniform when she shows up for an important game.”

  Kellie chuckled. “I don’t think our uniforms will look anything like the ones you’re used to.”

  Meghan didn’t think so either, but she didn’t want to even imagine what Peter would bring back. “You were telling me about your bike ride.”

  “Meghan…”

  “You were riding down the street, turning a corner, when…?” Meghan prompted.

  Kellie ran both hands through her matted, blonde hair. “When a woman crossed the street in front of me.”

  “And you plowed right into her.”

  “No. I… Well, she had a…” Kellie paused and rubbed her flushed cheeks.

  Meghan put one elbow on her knee and leaned toward her. “A dog? A herd of children trailing behind her? A machine gun? What? Come on, tell me before Peter gets back!”

  Kellie looked down, making her hair fall around her face like a curtain. She peeked out from beneath her bangs and whispered, “A very nice rack.”

  Meghan sat up straight and grinned. So Kellie definitely played for her team—if there even were teams here. “And?”

  “And I might have been a bit distracted…”

  “You ogled her, admit it!”

  Kellie blew out a breath. “Okay, yes, I ogled her. I also had my MP3 player on, so I didn’t see or hear the garbage truck backing up right in front of me—and here I am.” She indicated the circle of chairs.

  Despite her promise not to, Meghan had to laugh. “We have that in common.”

  “What? Being dead?”

  “Yeah, that too. But I meant ogling women. That’s why I’m here too.”

  Kellie sat up straight. “Really? My neighbors left out that part of the story. What happened?”

  “I was at home, watching a recruitment tape in the living room, when the lights on my Christmas tree began to flicker. I got up to fix them, craning my head to keep watching because one of the players I had my eye on…well, she had a really nice rack too.”

  They exchanged commiserating looks.

  “What happened then?” Kellie asked.

  “I put my hand on the string of lights and—zzzzzz! Electrocuted. On Christmas Eve. In my gecko pajamas.”

  Kellie reached over and patted her leg. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. Not the most pleasant way to go; that’s for sure. Not that I have a personal standard of comparison, mind you.” By now, she could smile about it. “My friends always said women would be my death one day, but I never thought it would be literal.”

  Kellie laughed. “Well, at least we were both wearing clothes.” She pointed at a naked guy with only a towel wrapped around his hips. Apparently, he had died in his birthday suit.

  Peter returned with a stack of uniforms. He unfolded one of them and proudly held it up.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Meghan groaned.

  Their new uniform consisted of a belt cord, a pair of gladiator sandals, and a billowing, white dress that hid any hint of the wearer’s curves.

  “Well, at least we won’t be ogling each other in that thing,” Kellie whispered.

  Speak for yourself.

  “Where are the wings?” one of the women to their left asked.

  Peter shook his head. “We don’t give them to people who died in accidents. Too risky.” He held up a list. “I’m going to assign you each a partner now, and then we’ll head over to our guardian angel training center.”

  “Where the hell were our guardian angels when we needed them?” Meghan grumbled.

  “Ssssh!” Eyes wide, Kellie pressed her finger to her lips. “You really have to stop saying the H word. I don’t think they’re too fond of that here. It’s like you were playing for Western New York Flash but kept talking about the Portland Thorns.”

  Meghan grinned. “You’re a soccer fan?” Be still my heart. Of course, it was no longer beating anyway.

  “Sssssh!” Several people shushed her as Peter began to call out names.

  Meghan held her breath. Please, please, please, don’t let me get partnered with died-in-the-shower guy over there. He had more hair on his back than a gorilla. Even once he was covered by that ugly angel uniform, she didn’t want to stare at his unshaven face for all eternity.

  “Meghan Webster,” Peter called.

  Meghan slowly raised her hand and braced herself. “Here.”

  Every gaze zeroed in on her.

  “Nice win in the last world cup,” Peter said.

  Meghan blinked. “You watch TV up here?”

  Peter gave her a mysterious smile. “We don’t have to. But you’ll find out how all of that works soon enough. And to answer your earlier question about where your guardian angels were when you needed them…”

  Oh, shit. He heard that? Or was he reading her mind? If people up here could do that, she was in trouble.

  “We’re a little understaffed at the moment. That’s why we need to start your training right away. So, let’s see who we’ve partnered you with.” He trailed his index finger over the list. “There we are. Kellie Gibson.”

  Thank you, thank you, thank you, God. Maybe she could later tell him in person.

  Meghan and Kellie beamed at each other.

  Once everyone had changed into the new uniform, Peter led them downstairs.

  Now in a much better mood, Meghan followed Kellie and the rest of the group over to the training center. Even though Meghan had liked her better in the tight bicycle pants and the revealing shirt, Kellie managed to look good even in the angel uniform. She caught a peek at muscular calves as she followed her down the stairs. I wonder if guardian angels date.

  Well, she had eternity to find out.

  ###

  The Christmas Grump

  Rachel Lewis glanced at her wristwatch and groaned. Not even six. Wonderful. Five more hours in this seventh level of hell, otherwise known as the shopping mall one week before Christmas.

  “Jingle Bells” blared from the mall’s sound system for the hundredth time. Rachel weaved around shoppers loaded down with bags, keeping an eye out for shoplifters and pickpockets. Normally, she stopped to chat with the cute barista in the coffee shop and the grandfatherly man working in the toy store, but today, the overworked salespeople were busy with the flood of customers, so Rachel just peeked in on the crowded stores and continued on her patrol.

  Oh, yeah. Christmas—time of quiet contemplation. Right.

  Her walkie-talkie flared to life. “Phillips to Lewis.” Mike’s voice was almost drowned out by Christmas carols and shouts in the background. “Where are you?”

  Rachel pressed the button on her two-way radio. “Heading up to the food court.”

  “Want to meet me for a quick break?”

  “Sure.”

  They met up in front of the pretzel stand, as they always did. Mike handed her a paper cup of coffee while Rachel bought two pretzels. “Thanks.” She sipped her coffee and, over the rim of the cup, let her gaze sweep over the crowd. “I can’t wait for this carnage to be over and for things to go back to the normal level of craziness.”

  “Carnage?” Mike laughed. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

  “Maybe one of the fourteen pickpockets and shoplifters I caught this week stole it,” Rachel said.

  “Oh, come on.” Mike nudged her, nearly making her spill coffee over her light gray uniform shirt and the black tie. “Don’t be such a Christmas grump just because we’ve got a few more pickpockets and shoplifters than during the rest of the year.”

  Rachel squinted against the blinking lights of the giant Christmas tree, wishing she had brought her sunglasses to work. “Oh, it’s not just the shoplifters. Or the hours of incident reports and paperwork we have to fill out for each of them. Look around. Does this look like a celebration of love, peace, and family harmony?” She pointed at a red-faced mother who yanked a little girl out of a store by her arm, making the girl cry as if she were being
dragged over hot coals. They nearly collided with the stretched-out legs of a man who sat on a bench, surrounded by half a dozen shopping bags. With his glassy-eyed stare, his lolling chin, and his arms hanging limply down his sides, he looked as if he had just returned from a trip through the desert. In front of a jewelry store, a young couple was having a shouting match that nearly drowned out Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas.”

  Mike waved around his half-eaten pretzel as if to wipe away her arguments. Crumbs landed all over the security services badge above his left breast pocket. “A few hours of stressful Christmas shopping is a small price to pay for the glow in your partner’s eyes or the happy laughter of a child when they open their presents in front of the Christmas tree.”

  Rachel didn’t even have a Christmas tree. Her ex had taken her artificial Christmas tree with her when she left, and Rachel hadn’t bothered to get a new one this year. “Wow.” She forced a grin. “Were you always such a softie, or did having a family turn you into a big marshmallow?”

  He flicked a piece of pretzel in her direction. “Maybe you should try it. Might help your attitude.”

  Still keeping an eye on the shoppers around them, Rachel quirked an eyebrow at her colleague. “There’s one problem with that.”

  “Your sexual orientation? Lame excuse! I have one word for you: sperm bank.”

  “That’s two words. And it’s not the problem I was talking about.” Rachel threw her empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can and walked away from the pretzel stand.

  Side by side, they patrolled the food court and then rode the escalator to the lower level of the mall.

  “What then?” Mike asked after a while.

  Rachel stopped in front of a store and let her gaze wander over a group of teenagers lingering in front of a locked glass display holding gaming consoles. “In case you forgot: I’m single.” After growing up as the only child of a hardworking single mom, she knew she would never have a child if she wasn’t co-parenting with another woman.

  “Yeah, what’s up with that? Must be…what? Ten months since Jessica dumped your sorry ass?”

  “Twelve,” Rachel mumbled.

  Mike gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Shit, I forgot. Happened over the holidays, right? Is that why you’re moping around, being a Christmas grump?”