MIRACLES HAPPEN
Standard disclaimer: No one here belongs to me. Everyone Gammish belongs to CBS, RA Dick, etc. Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy, and this portrayal of Gabriel belong to Debbie Macomber as chronicles in A SEASON OF ANGELS, THE TROUBLE WITH ANGELS, WHERE ANGELS GO, AND THOSE CHRISTMAS ANGELS.
Psalms 23 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow you all the days of you life
Somewhere in the second level of Heaven....
"Do you know why we're here?" Shirley, the youngest of the three angels, fretted.
"Have you been playing on escalators again?" Goodness asked her sternly. "Or rollercoasters? Or--"
"No, nothing. I've behaved - well- there was that one- no, that couldn't be it. "
Mercy sighed. "Sisters, I'm sure Gabriel hasn't summoned us here just to scold over some triviality. He's a busy angel."
Before she could say more, the clouds parted, admitting them to Gabriel's office. His face was neutral, giving them no clue about what might be the problem.
"Ladies, how are you?" Without waiting for an answer, since it was a pointless question as they were in Heaven, so what could be wrong?- Gabriel went on, "I have an assignment for you three."
"Is it already Christmas?" Mercy asked. "It seems like it was just a bit ago. I think humans have put it on fast forward..."
"Yes, we'll speak about your tape recorder incident later, Mercy," Gabriel assured her. "But, no, it's not Christmas, officially anyway. Though, if you would take time to review Section 77 A of the policy manual, you would see that we are to maintain the spirit of Christmas during all moments of eternity. No, it is now approaching what humans refer to in some climes as Valentine's Day, a day that they take especial care to express love or at least romantic feelings. Now, then- here is the situation. Daniel Gregg is Carolyn Williams Muir's soulmate..."
"Excuse me- but Williams is not a normal feminine middle name, is it, sir?" Shirley asked.
"No, it's her maiden name- she has been married, but said husband is now deceased. As is Daniel Gregg-no- don't interrupt. Robert Muir is here, on another level. Daniel Gregg was granted an extension of his earthly stay in spirit form under clause 888 B 7. As a ghost, in common terms, he met Carolyn Muir and they have, accordingly, fallen in love. However, the problem they face is so obvious that a child can see it. Listen."
Pulling down a star, Gabriel hit the equivalent of the play button on the prayer-coder to let two childish voices be heard, "Dear God, this is Jonathan and Candy Muir. Guess you know that, but Mom says to be polite, so.. anyway, it'd be really neat if Captain Gregg could really be our dad. He is in a lot of 'portant ways, but we can't hug him and he can't hug us. And we think it'd make mom happier if she could hug him too. We think he wrote that song for her, the one about being able to touch her hand and all the rest. So, it'd make him happier too, and if everyone's happy, that'd be good. So, could you do something, even though he's not 'xactly alive? Maybe like when that mean boat showed up, but let him keep his powers.... but if he had to give up his powers to be regular, but could be real, then that'd be okay too."
"Too bad they couldn't have been born so that they could meet in life," Goodness, ever practical, stated.
"Even if they had, it would not have worked. A hundred years separate them, but if Carolyn had been born in his time, she'd be a woman of that era, and those two children could not be born to her and Daniel Gregg- though Bobby Muir's value is something only the Boss seems to comprehend, he was needed to father Jonathan and Candace, as well as shape Carolyn into who she is. Daniel needed to be a man of his time to be right for her in her present. Therefore, meeting after his death was the proper timing."
"So, we need to go find a mean boat to make him regular?" Mercy asked slowly.
"No. Daniel Gregg could not be 'regular' if he tried and still be himself. However, we can grant him the power of touch. The approval was made shortly after that prayer was officially received, or is it shortly before?" Gabriel looked a bit perplexed, trying to translate human chronology into eternal terms could get bewildering. "No matter, what's done is done. No, you just need to leave the gift for unwrapping. Since you three are so good at enabling romance, even when I haven't seen the paperwork, I thought I'd give you this assignment. " He paused. "However, I do not want you going near escalators, elevators, rollercoasters or automobiles. Of any sort- that would include, trucks, sedans, jeeps, etc. Is that clear, ladies?"
"Yes sir," they chorused, though at least one was looking for a loophole.
Gull Cottage
"So, is Ed taking you to the Valentine's dance?" Carolyn asked Martha.
"Well, he might," Martha shrugged. "Or not. Depends on if he can get a deputy to work that night or not. Is he going to- borrow Claymore - and take you?"
Feeling heat rush over her face, Carolyn looked away, finding the window's view fascinating. "That was just one time, to keep Claymore from trampling my feet to death, and I don't particularly want to dance with Claymore again, even if someone else was in him. It's still Claymore."
Unless I close my eyes, she silently added.
"But, " aloud again, she added with a sigh, "I may not have much choice. Mark Finley wants me to cover the dance for the Schooner Bay Beacon. Maybe I can sit it out, and just report."
"That'd be a shame," Martha opined, pausing in her dusting, but nothing she could say seemed right. Since learning about the ghost, she'd been pleased that her employer and friend finally had found someone; Bobby Muir had given her little other than stress. That Daniel Gregg was dead was a shame, but in many ways he did seem more alive than some other men.
Both women felt the slight vibration in the air that let them know Daniel was there; it had taken a while to realize that the atmosphere did change a bit right before he appeared, but it came in handy from time to time.
"Captain, I was wondering something," Martha said off handedly, making Carolyn groan silently.
"Yes, Martha?"
"What kind of weather will we have for Valentine's- or the day before?"
Carolyn blinked. She'd expected something else, something a bit embarrassing, like Martha playing matchmaker.
"I haven't consulted the almanac- which has a far better chance of predicting with accuracy than that hair sprayed, overly chipper buffoon on the televison," Daniel allowed after a moment's consideration. "However, if you are asking if I plan on affecting the weather, I never plan on it, but as needed, I will affect it."
"Try not to need to- I've been hooked into providing a red velvet cake and need good weather to ice it properly. Seven minute icing just won't take in temper tantrums."
"For what are you baking this cake?" Daniel asked, letting the remark about tantrums slide, this time.
"The Valentine's dance."
"I see. I suppose that numbskull has importuned on Mrs. Muir's good graces to be his date?" the ghost asked.
"No, he has not, but I will be attending, as a reporter," Carolyn informed him. "Besides, tickets cost money."
"Did I mention Claymore?" the captain chuckled. Then, he frowned. "Odd, I feel like someone else is here. "
"Do you have friends that could be visiting?" Martha asked, not sure she liked the idea of multiple ghosts. Still, the one they had was charming...
"Most of us aren't exactly socializers," Daniel shook his head.
"Never would have guessed," Martha noted wryly.
"It doesn't quite feel like a ghost..." he went on.
"Maybe someone is walking on your grave," Martha said, then realized what she'd said. "Sorry."
"If I shivered everytime my grave was walked upon, I might have palsy," the ghost returned without malice. "But thank you, for forgetting for a moment, that I'm disincarnate."
"Could that boat be back?" Carolyn fretted. "Sea Crow?"
"Vulture," Daniel corrected, then briefly explained it to Martha who had not known what was going on when the ill fated vessel had been in port some time ago. "And no, seven years have not passed yet, so it is not likely. Perhaps some of your huamanity is just wearing off on me, ladies."
"It'd be nice if it worked both ways," Martha thought aloud. "The way you can just move things around looks very useful.
With a smile, the ghost made a slight wind gather all the dust into a cloud and sail out the window that opened for it to pass through.
"Thanks."
"But, I find that this form is rather limited in many respects," the ghost added with a touch of enigma before vanishing.
The three angels watched. "I just zapped him so he could touch," Shirley frowned. "Why doensn't he just --" she waved her arms around enough to make the curtains flutter.
Before Carolyn or Martha could notice the movement, Goodness grabbed the lace panels and stilled them. "Because he dosent' know he can- and no- we can't tell him- that violates .."
"The prime directive," Mercy suggested.
"See- that kind of thing is why Gabe won't let us watch televison or play on these modern gizmos," Goodness scolded. "This is not Star Trek, sister. It violates the non interference unless it is an emergency rule."
"Prime directive sounds cooler," Mercy insisted. "And you know he does not like being called Gabe any more than he likes us to watch tv. Maybe less."
"That's neither here nor there- what good does Captain Gregg being able to touch do if he doesn't know he can do it?" Goodness fluttered.
"Maybe we could leave a hint?" Shirley suggested, staring at the typewriter.
"We can not take control of Mrs. Muir- that is definitely a no no, you know better than that!" Mercy gasped in shock.
"No, I would never do that. But- when she takes a break, couldn't we type something?"
"You just want to play with her writing machine," Goodness scolded. "What are we going to type? Dear Daniel- you can touch, love your guardian angels? We might as well just talk to them in person."
"It has been ever so long since we were allowed to do that," Mercy sighed. "I always liked that fear not line, though it did seem rather needless- do we look scary?"
"Don't be silly,'' Goodness reprimanded. Being the eldest was a chore at times. "But we do need to be careful, he almost sensed us. We can whisper suggestions, but I think we'd risk too much if we whispered to him."
"There are the children," Shirley essayed. "Children listen well to us."
"But they might see us. Children are by nature believers. I reviewed their files on the starlight express down here," Goodness mused. "The boy could see Captain Gregg without the ghost making himself known. Now, it did take a while for Candy to see him, but now that she has, that changes her ability to believe, so her sensitivity is heightened. In fact, if we are seen by any of them, I won't be surprised. They are not expecting to see us, so that will give us some cover, but one wrong move, and the jig's up."
"Aha, you have been watching television," Shirley crowed.
"Only by osmosis. "
"Gabriel is an arch angel, he has to know that the risk of us being seen is greater here than at any past client's home," Shirley argued. "So we just do our best - and maybe he means for us to be seen. He doesn't always tell us everything."
"Because we are supposed to be learning," Goodness agreed. "Let me think about it for a while. I think we will have to speak to one of the children, but I want to be certain."
"Both of them, " Mercy insisted.
"Yes, sister?"
"They both prayed- so both ought to be spoken to."
"Hmm. Well, let's wait and see if the captain catches on first."
As the hours ticked past, the captain didn't seem to be catching on, no matter what the heavenly ladies did. They did give it a good try or two though.
Carolyn decided she needed to stretch her legs after spending some time typing, but before Shirley could descend on the typewriter, Goodness or no Goodness, the captain sat down to proofread what she'd written- making sure that all nautical terms were correctly used, ostensibly, when really he was just curious. Normally, she didn't like for her work to be read ahead of the proper time, but there was a tacit and subtle arrangement between them- as long as he didn't revise again- Captain Gregg could "proof" her work.
Frustrated, Shirley's wings fluttered so hard that they knocked the dictionary off the desk, straight towards a sleeping Scruffy's tail. She would have done something before the little dog was hurt, but waited just a moment to see if human reflexes made Daniel catch it.
She was right, to an extent.
Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel saw the heavy tome began to fall and stopped its plummet with a thought, resettling it towards the middle of the desk. Scruffy woke then, glaring reproachfully at Shirley. Her concillatory pat on his head did not soften the offended look in his eyes.
"Scruffy, what are you upset about? I didn't knock it off, and I did keep it from hitting you, " the captain reminded him. The dog looked back at him with a wagging tail, attempting to indicate that it wasn't the ghost who had startled him.
"Do you see something, lad?" The tail wagged harder. "Or was it just a bad dream? Yes, that must be it. Don't worry, I'm the only ghost here."
Still, Captain Gregg frowned thoughtfully and looked about before returning to the article.
Mercy pulled Shirley away before she could do more.
When Martha was outside and Carolyn was taking a quick shower, Mercy tried making the phone ring, thinking surely he'll try to answer it. Instead, he levitated the phone earpiece and imitated Martha's voice to answer no one. Martha came in anyhow when he thundered in irritation at a hang up call.
Goodness sighed. "Didn't you read the file- he can talk on the phone without using touch. And what were we told about machines?"
"I didn't ride it or move it!" Mercy snorted in a most unangelic fashion. "I didn't even talk on it."
"And don't you dare!" Goodness warned, flapping her wings for emphasis.
As the captain joined the family after dinner, Martha asked, "Are you certain none of your--"
"Spectral fraternity?" Carolyn supplied.
"Yes, is here? I swear, more things have dropped, only to not break, than I can recall happening in a whole week today."
"And my stereo started playing by itself once," Candy added thoughtfully.
"My skateboard," Jonathan began.
"It's too icy to be riding that," Carolyn told her son with gentle firmness.
"Oh, Mom, I wasn't going to, but it wanted to be rid," Jonathan protested.
"Rode," she corrected.
"Rode. I wanted to put it in a better spot, so I put it on the ground to move some string and tools and junk around- I didn't touch the sharp stuff, just hammers and pliers and the like, and it started rolling away."
"That could be the wind," Carolyn suggested.
"It wasn't blowing."
"Well, anyway, is there any chance you have company, Captain?" Martha asked.
The spirit mused this over for a moment, then, scratching his ear, more in response to suddenly feeling like something was hovering by it than puzzlement, shook his head. "I'm certain that if by some chance an old friend had stopped in, he would make himself known."
"Could it be Seaman Applegate?" Carolyn asked. "Maybe he's invisible."
"But he would not be inaudible, my dear. No, Elroy could not hide successfully to save his- er- afterlife. I think we merely have gremlins."
"Are there such things?" Martha asked with raised eyebrows. Afterall, they had a ghost, so why not gremlins, fairies, and goblins? Now, if they could just get a genie...
"Not to my knowledge," the ghost assured her. "Though once, when Gull Cottage was commandered as a way station during that War a few years ago, for soldiers to stay in between transits, a few did mention gremlins bolluxing their gears. After some investigation, I discovered that it was a figure of speech. "
"I didn't know that you allowed that," Carolyn marvelled.
"It was my duty."
"Well, try and catch the gremlins before tomorrow," Martha huffed. "Tomorrow is the thirteenth, and I want to make the cake a day early, just in case there's a gremlin in the batter. Besides, it's supposed to be misty on Valentine's, and that icing would be so much goop if it rained."
"Whatever I can do to assure the harmony will be done, " Captain Gregg assured her with a gallant bow.
"Pity you can't go to the dance and taste it," Martha shook her head.
"Among other pities," he might have said, but in such a low whisper that Carolyn was not sure.
So, instead of the question she wanted to ask, what had he said, she opted to inquire if the kids had finished addressing the obligatory Valentines for every other child in their classes. Even Penelope Hassenhammer and Danny Shoemaker.
They had, and she was suprised when a little while later, a bit earlier than normal, Jonathan and Candy both began yawning and asked if they could go to bed early.
"Do you feel okay?" she fretted; she'd hoped the flu bug had missed biting them this year.
"Yeah, just tired," Jonathan sighed through a yawn.
"Okay. Sleep well," she assented, kissing them each around more yawns.
"Go'way," Candy muttered, "I'm having a good dream."
"Yeah, me too," Jonathan informed her excitedly. "It was so cool! Everyone, well, everyone here, not Claymore or Hazel or Ed or anyone but you and me and mom and Martha and Scruffy and.."
Cutting off his list, Candy put in, "The captain."
"Yeah. We were all in it, and --"
"He could touch us, but it was now, not like at Christmas when we were back when he was alive. He was still a ghost, but a - a superghost."
"He's always a superghost," Jonathan loyally averred, then bobbed his head, "but yeah. Did you have the same dream?"
"Yeah. Do you think --"
"Had to be," Jonathan grinned. "Let's go see if Mom and Martha had it too, like before!"
Candy looked over at the clock. "No, we're up early, I bet not even Martha's up yet. "
"Captain would be."
"Yeah, he never sleeps. Let's go say thanks to him," she agreed.
"Okay." Scrambling back to his bed to grab his slippers, Jonathan followed Candy and Scruffy out the door, quietly. Both paused when a rustle of air began to "follow" their steps, but then fell silent. Deciding it was just some old creaky groan, like Mom had said on the first day, they continued to the attic.
"Good morning, children. What are you doing up so early?" Captain Gregg asked.
"To say thanks," Candy blurted.
"You're welcome," he replied without thinking, then backtracked, "for what?"
"The dream," Jonathan told him. "The one you gave us last night. It was really neat."
"I'm sorry, lad, but I gave you no dream last night."
The kids exchanged looks. "But we had the same dream," Candy frowned. "It was now, not right now, but not the past, and you were a ghost, but had more powers.."
"You could touch and everything," Jonathan supplied. "I remember feeling you ruffle my hair- but I really don't like that- only it was okay, because --"
"I understand," the ghost smiled.
"So, you didn't -" Candy began slowly.
"No. I'm sorry."
She sighed. "I really hoped- it was just like what we pictured when we prayed for it to happen."
"Blast," Jonathan added with a profound nod.
Rattles and clanks let them know Martha was up, and they'd better get downstairs to get the day going officially. The ghost assured them he'd be along shortly, then sat down to consider their words, mentally connecting lines. Concentrating, he touched the desk. That was no help, he recalled exactly how everything felt in his home, except for the new items, and a sofa could hardly tell him if he could be felt by it or not. Blast.
Vanishing, he found Scruffy returning from his morning outing. Stopping the little dog, he tentatively patted the wiry fur. He felt it - and there was a look in Scruffy's eyes like he appreciated it, but it was not conclusive. Telling the family seemed rather precipitous though.
That left one option.
If he hadn't already promised not to, there might have been a hint of thunder.
''AHNAHUNGHAEEEEEE! Don't hurt me, don't hurt me!"
"Why would I want to hurt you?" Daniel asked with forced patience as his "nephew" cowered before him.
"I don't know- but you always think of something. What are you doing here?" Claymore demanded.
"I need a favor."
"Is it expensive?"
"It doesn't involve money."
"No."
"You haven't even heard it yet."
"But I know what it is- you want to use me- to take Mrs. Muir to the dance. Well, no. I won't have it. Do you have any idea how uhn-icky it feels? Well, do you?"
The look on Daniel's face said plainly, Just about as icky as it feels to inhabit your numb skull.
However, he merely said, "That was not what I wanted to ask for. I wish to conduct an experiment."
"You want to dissect me?"
"Has the Bijou been showing horror mantinees again? Calm yourself. I merely wish to - shake your hand."
Claymore looked suspicious. "Shake my hand?"
"Yes."
"Why? So you can electrocute me with some kind of spectral electricity?"
Daniel looked to the sky, muttering something that only the angels heard clearly.
"Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Number, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges.."
At last, he sighed. "I have no wish to hurt, you- yet. But, if you keep on dithering, I might reconsider! Now, shake my hand, you nitbrained pollywog!"
Tentatively, as if reaching towards a hot skillet, Claymore extended one hand, looking away, with tightly closed eyes. For totally different reasons, so that sight could not give him any illusions, the ghost's eyes were closed as well until their hands met and they could both feel it.
Two sets of eyes snapped open. "I felt that!" Claymore exclaimed.
Daniel nodded. "As did I."
"You didn't know you - how long have you been able to do this? Is it new? Does Mrs. Muir know? I'm not sure that it's-"
"Claymore!"
When he quit nattering, Daniel went on, "I just now discovered it- and no, Mrs. Muir does not know. Until I know what this means, she is not to know- do you understand? You will not tell her a thing. When I am sure of this- I will tell her. It might be temporary, so there would be no point in her knowing. " He paused, then fixing his steel blue eyes on Claymore added, "Should she learn of this discovery early- you will find yourself hung by your toes from the tallest mast available. "
"Aye-aye."
When the ghost popped out, he continued, "Aiyayayayai."
The three sisters met on Gull Cottage's roof. "Well, it took him enough time to figure it out!" Shirley sighed. "What was that noise his nephew made?"
"I've never heard it before," Goodness affirmed.
"I hope I never hear it again,'' Mercy shuddered. "So, do we go back home now?" Her voice held a note of pleading that Goodness rightly interpreted.
"No, I think we need to stay a bit longer- just to make sure he realizes this is his for good- or at least as long as he's on this plane," Goodness mused.
"Plane? Oh, is there time? Can we go on one?" Mercy clapped her hands.
"Mercy!" Goodness scolded. "No. No more skateboarding either. Or record playing. And don't think I didn't see you eyeing that old firetruck. "
Mercy tried to look innocent. "Well, I think I need to go watch over Martha's cake making, to make sure it goes perfectly. Today is a bit damp for that icing to set right. "
"That is a good idea," Goodness nodded. "But keep away from the blender." She paused. "And the mixer." Then added, "Or anything else that is a machine."
"You are no fun," Mercy announced before vanishing.
Goodness frowned. "Now, we need to get our ducks in a row, Shirley."
The youngest angel looked to the sky.
"Not literal ducks! It's a human saying. Something to do with carnivals. And NO - we are not going to one. If I read the captain rightly, and I ought to know how to read a person after - well - after all this time- we need to ..."
Valentine's Day Evening
Ed was able to find someone to cover the desk, in fact enough volunteers to cover all shifts; so he had the entire evening free to escort Martha to the dance. The captain had offered to mind the kids while Carolyn and Martha went to town, but Jonathan was going to 'camp out' in Quinton's basement and Candy was spending the night with Marysue. If it wasn't for paying rent, Carolyn would have preferred to stay home and celebrate Valentine's with the Captain, but necessity is the mother of work. She agreed to bring the cake, that had turned out perfectly, better than Martha could ever remember it doing, so that Martha did not have to hassle with it- or try to keep Ed out of it.
"You look lovely, dear lady," Captain Gregg told her with sincerity. He had yet to tell her what had happened, but had spent the night walking between rooms, experimentally touching the children's hair, her cheek, her hand. Yet, this morning had said nothing of it. If this was to last only a moment, the sense of loss would be his alone.
"Thank you, Captain. " Martha had left a few minutes before, and Ed had offered her a ride, but being a third wheel on their date held only slightly less appeal than going to the dance itself. "Are you sure you can't make an appearance?"
He smiled for her. "Even if I did, the resemblance I bear to Daniel Gregg would prove distracting and I'd spend more time explaining, somehow, who I was than dancing with you."
"I'll try and be home early," she said obliquely, pausing on the threshold.
"Enjoy yourself," was all he said, fading out.
When she was gone, he settled down in the alcove to work on his sea charts again, but tonight it seemed so pointless, and the house was so blasted silent.
Not for long. The television, apparently of its own accord, flicked on, the tail end of a movie playing.
William Holden's voice caught his attention inexplicably. It felt like someone was telling him to pay attention.
There is nothing fair or unfair under heaven, Soon-Lee. God has been good to us. Predictable static covered a few words, then the chorus of Love is a Many Splendored Thing rose in waves until the channel flicked or maybe a new signal just blew in..
Don't you know, Tommy, that when you love someone, miracles happen?
He waited to hear what the rabbit ears would capture next, but only a commercial reached his ears, though he heard it not. The two lines had snagged his attention.
Was this a miracle then? Was this a gift he could keep? Captain Gregg paced for a while, then dropped on hand to the sofa, feeling how different it was from the familiar one he had brought in over a century ago. Feeling.
The school gym was transformed into a fantasy of pink, red and white crepe paper and balloons. Oh, it wasn't much by Cinderella's standards to be certain, but it was quaint and had its own charm.
It could have been Windsor Castle and Carolyn would have felt out of place in it. After wandering around for a few long minutes, she offered to man the punch bowl. From there she could observe what there was to observe, and not be called upon to dance much. She tried a cup of it, but it was far too sweet and watery.
Martha's cake went fast, leaving only Honey Hooper's overly iced banana-pecan with a whole bottle of almond extract in the batter to be handed out.
After a while, Mrs. Tuttle told her she looked far too pretty to just hide behind the punch bowl, so she found herself dancing a series of stiffly obligatory rounds with various bachleors and married men who never quite finished a dance. Thank heavens it was the wrong season for white shoes; her poor toes got squished under so many pointy toed men's dress shoes that she'd never have gotten the marks off her good white ones.
Some grace allowed her to distance herself from it all, observing as if in a dream, taking notes so that at the earliest possible moment, she could escape and write the article that was already in her head.
When one of her heels snapped somewhere between Chantilly Lace and I Say a Little Prayer For You, Carolyn took that as a sign she could leave. Had she been able to see Mercy high fiving Shirley, she'd have been sure of it, but the fact that flats she didn't remember leaving in the car were there did seem a confirmation.
It took less than forty five minutes, perhaps only thirty, to compile the notes in her head and type it in the Schooner Bay Beacon office. A quick proof reading showed no errors whatsoever. It wasn't Carolyn's finest work, but then, she'd not had much with which to work.
Driving home, she opted not to turn on the radio; music was still playing in her head from the "gala". A frown wrinkled her face. They hadn't played Unchained Melody at the dance, had they? Still, that was running through her head in a continuous loop.
Goodness, floated down to the car roof where her sisters were riding. "That's the wrong song to be playing her."
"But it's about ghostly love," Shirley frowned.
"It's not about that YET. It's several years off, in their timeframe."
"Well, it's a nice song, I'm not changing it," the youngest angel averred stubbornly.
"She's right," Mercy agreed, though it was not too clear which one she was supporting.
"Very well," Goodness sighed. "At least you picked a song that has been written now."
"Yes, it was hard. There are so many pretty ones down the road," Shirley mourned.
"No."
"Is he ready?" Mercy asked, changing the subject.
"Of course," Goodness said. "Have you repaired her shoe?"
"Should we? Won't she be confused?" Shirley asked.
"She'll think she was just tired and wanted to see something that wasn't there," Goodness replied sternly. "Fix it."
Mercy snapped her fingers. "Done. Say, can we go back and - that printing press looked so-"
"Mercy!"
Home. Carolyn took a moment to look up at Gull Cottage and realize that it really was everything that she could want in a home, and the main reason was its ghost. Feeling like something special was near, but not sure what she went inside.
"You're home early, my dear," Daniel said, meeting her at the door. "I hope nothing went wrong?"
"No. I got my article done- and.." Carolyn hesitated before bravely adding, "I missed you. "
A flicker of surprise passed over his face, then Daniel nodded. "Come, I have a surprise for you."
He led her to the parlor without even the semblance of taking her arm. "Close your eyes."
Obediently, this time, she did so. Quickly, before she could peek, or he could lose his nerve, Captain Gregg took her hand and kissed it.
Her eyes snapped open. "I felt that." Carolyn reached out one unbelieving hand and touched his cheek. "What-how- when?"
"I don't know, any of it," the ghost confessed. "I only discovered this recently- yesterday. The children had an identical dream, one I did not give them, that I could touch, even as a ghost. That seemed strange enough to convince me to try - I never have made the attempt to touch anything mortal and unfamiliar since dying. If I touched the old things, that I once knew, the memory gave me a shadow of what it must feel like. "
That explained why he clung to his things so fiercely.
"When I found that I could touch, I feared that it was a fluke, and would be gone just as quickly. So I said nothing. It would not have been fair to offer you anything only to snatch it away."
"What changed your mind?"
"I decided that there are no guarantees of fairness. If one is given a miracle, even for a moment, it is to be enjoyed."
"I quite agree."
A tacit shyness yet kept a distance between them until Carolyn mentioned obliquely, "It wasn't much of a dance. Nothing like a- cotillion."
"What a pity. Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"
Magically the furniture retreated to create a dance floor. No words were necessary to invite her to his arms as they danced in the moonglow to a song only they - and their unseen friends- could hear.
Epilog
"Well done ladies. You always come through. Now- about that skateboard, Mercy?"
And not abideth faith, hope and love- these three, but the greatest of these is love. I Corinthians 13 13 NIV