Angel, Page 29

Page 29

 

  “Please, please don’t,” Willow entreated, leaning forward. “It’s not the way. ”

  “I just — I just want to be with Dan again,” choked out Georgia. The other waitress handed her a paper napkin, and she wiped her eyes, smudging her mascara. “I — I miss him so much. ”

  Willow’s own eyes were soft with compassion as she held Georgia’s hand, her whole being focused intently on the woman. Alex stood without moving as he watched Willow, his thoughts spinning. He didn’t know why he was feeling so floored; all angels were psychic to some degree — this was just another sign of Willow’s half-angel nature.

  Except that somehow it felt completely different.

  “I know how hard it is,” Willow went on, squeezing Georgia’s hand. “But it’s not your time. I see another path for you, a different path. In a few months, you’re going to take the insurance money and move home again, back to Atlanta, and you’re going to open your own restaurant. It’s something you’ve always wanted to do, but you’ve felt guilty about the money. You shouldn’t. Dan wanted you to have it. It’s his gift to you. ”

  “Oh, honey!” murmured the black waitress. She put an arm around Georgia’s shoulders. “Can I have a job there?” she teased.

  Georgia laughed through her tears, patting the woman’s hand. “You bet, Dora,” she said.

  “Anyway, that’s . . . all I see for now,” said Willow. “I hope it’s helped. ” She started to release her hand.

  “Wait!” cried Georgia, tightening her fingers around Willow’s. “Can you — can you see Dan? Does he have a message for me?”

  The hope on the woman’s face was so raw that Alex felt a painful twist in his chest. He looked away as memories of Jake gripped him.

  “No, I’m not a medium,” said Willow gently. “But he’s around you — I’m sure of it. And I think he’d really want you to be happy again, if you can be. ”

  Georgia nodded, dabbing at her eyes. “I think — I think maybe I can be now,” she said. “It’s been such a weight. You just don’t know —” Then she broke off, gazing at Willow in awe. “No, I — I guess you do know, don’t you?”

  Willow gave a small smile of agreement. Watching her, Alex was hit forcibly by the contrast between the elfin beauty of her face and her light-green eyes, which looked so much older than the rest of her. All at once he knew without a doubt that she had seen a lot of things in her life that she hadn’t wanted to see, just as he had . . . because that old-before-her-time look was the same that he saw on his own face whenever he glanced in the mirror.

  Coming out from behind the counter, Georgia clutched Willow’s hand in both of her own. “How can I ever thank you?” she said. Impulsively, the two women hugged.

  “That’s easy,” said Willow with a grin, pulling away first. “Throw away those pills when you get home. ”

  “She will,” put in Dora. “I’ll make sure of that!”

  “Thank you, honey,” said Georgia again, touching Willow’s face. “I mean it. You’ve given me my life back. ”

  Willow’s cheeks went pink. “I’m glad I could help. ”

  As Alex and Willow returned to their booth, Willow hooked her sunglasses back on. He stared at her as they slid into their seats, at a loss for words. Glancing at him, she self-consciously tucked a stray blond strand up under the cap. “Sorry,” she muttered. “More freakiness. ”

  “No, that was —” Alex shook his head, unable to express it. He propped his forearms on the table, studying her. “How did you know?”

  Willow regarded him for a long moment, as if trying to work out how sincere he was. Finally, she shrugged. “When she came to our table, I could just feel it. These great waves of sadness. I could tell she was thinking of killing herself. ”

  Dora appeared, placing Alex’s coffee in front of him. “Your girlfriend sure is a wonder, honey,” she said to him, squeezing Willow’s shoulder. Willow’s smile turned strained at the word “girlfriend. ” He could see her wanting to correct the woman and then deciding to let it pass.

  As the waitress moved away again, Alex stirred half-and-half into his coffee.

  “So . . . I guess it was a good thing that the car broke down,” he said at last.

  Willow had been taking a sip of water; she gave him a sharp look as she put the brown plastic glass down. For a second he thought she might smile, but she didn’t. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess it was. ”

  When they got back to the garage, the mechanic was waiting for them, wiping his hands on a rag. “Hey, you were right: it’s the prop shaft,” he said cheerfully. “I’m afraid I don’t have the right bolts in stock for it, though — looks like three of them went flying when it came loose. ”

  It was almost six o’clock. Alex sighed. “So it won’t be today, then. ”

  The man shook his head. “No. Afraid not. I’ll make some phone calls tomorrow morning; I might be able to find some at another garage. Otherwise I’ll have to order them — that would mean maybe two, three days before they get here. ”

  Two or three days. Perfect. Briefly, Alex wondered about just buying another used car. He couldn’t, though; he only had about twenty-five hundred left now from the emergency cash he kept on hand — despite the high wages that the CIA had paid ever since the Invasion, he’d never particularly trusted them — and knew that he needed to save his money. He blew out a breath, glancing at Willow. “Well, we’re sort of stuck here. I mean, we’re just passing through —”

  “There’s a motel just up the road,” said the mechanic. “Sorry. I know it’s a pain. Check with me tomorrow morning around ten; I’ll know by then if I have to order the bolts or not. ”

  Alex nodded slowly. “Yeah, OK. ” He glanced at Willow. “Is that all right with you?”

  He could see that she had stiffened, even behind her sunglasses. She lifted a shoulder. “I guess it’ll have to be. ”

  Alex took his bag from the Mustang’s trunk and slung it over his shoulder, then he and Willow started walking in the direction the mechanic had told them. It was sunset now, with red and purple streaks billowing across the sky to the west and a welcome breeze stirring at the heavy air. For several minutes, the only sound was their footsteps on the side of the road and passing cars.

  Alex cleared his throat. “Good call on the prop shaft. ”

  “It was pretty obvious,” said Willow, her voice cool. She was holding her elbows, looking down at the ground as she walked. Alex fell silent. Maybe he wasn’t psychic, but he could tell that she didn’t want to talk to him. They trudged along the road without speaking.

  Finally, to his relief, a GoodRest Motel sign appeared, with its familiar blue-and-white lettering. As they neared it, Alex noticed with apprehension how many cars were in the parking lot; it looked like a used-car convention. “Have you got any feelings about this place?” he asked.

  Willow’s steps slowed as she gazed at the L-shaped two-story building. “Not really,” she said after a pause. “I think we’ll be OK. ”