Entertaining Angels by JUDY DUARTE Read Free Book Online Page A

chance to make something out of her life.”
    “Cassie,” Daniel said, “I’ll admit I wasn’t happy about that friendship from the get-go, but the two girls have an unexpected closeness.”
    “Yes, I realize that. But they had very little in common back then.”
    Daniel pushed his chair away from the table and got to his feet. After walking to the pantry and pulling out a to-go cup, he transferred his coffee and left his mug in the sink.
    “Nevertheless,” he said to his wife, “I plan to honor their friendship. Those bouts of chemo used to knock Shana for a loop, yet Kristy never blinked an eye about it. She read to her when she was too tired or too nauseous to play. And she never once mentioned the hair loss. That’s something I’ll never forget.”
    “Neither will I, sweetheart.” Cassandra tore a piece from the top of her bran muffin. “But they still don’t have anything in common. And even less so now that Kristy is waiting tables at Paddy’s Pub and Shana is working toward a master’s degree.”
    “But they’ve still maintained a friendship,” Daniel said.
    “Yes, honey. I know. And of all the people in Fairbrook …” Cassandra’s words faded, and she focused on the muffin she was nibbling at piece by piece.
    “Shana has pulled away from a lot of people,” Daniel said to Craig. “Even her mom and me, although I suppose that’s to be expected.”
    “She’s still close to
you,”
Cassandra told her husband.
    Silence followed, leaving Craig to wonder if there was trouble in paradise.
    Things aren’t always what they seem,
Jesse had told him.
    But Craig shook it off. The last thing he needed to do was place too much stock in the ramblings of a homeless man.
    Besides, he had his own problems to deal with.
    Kristy had the early shift today, and since the car was on the blink and she would have to take the bus to work, she wanted to give herself some extra time.
    “Honey?” Gram called out.
    “Yes?” Kristy made her way to Gram’s room, where antique furnishings and crocheted doilies couldn’t mask the hospital bed that lurked near the window.
    “Are you leaving for work now?” the elderly woman asked.
    “I’ll be going soon.” Kristy approached the adjustable bed that made lifting the partially paralyzed woman easier. As she leaned to place a kiss on Gram’s cheek, she caught a whiff of gardenia mingled with Bengay.
    “What time is it?” Gram turned her head toward the clock on the nightstand, revealing the curls crushed and tangled by repeated contact with the pillow. Gray roots she used to hide with the help of Lady Clairol and frequent visits to the beauty shop on First Avenue tugged at Kristy’s heart.
    “Nearly ten o’clock,” Kristy answered, even though the woman had looked for herself.
    Gram took a deep breath, then let out a brittle, bone-weary sigh.
    Eager to give her grandma something to look forward to, Kristy said, “It looks like we’ll need to color your hair again. Why don’t we get you all prettied up tomorrow? I can give you a manicure and a pedicure, too.”
    Gram rolled her tired eyes. “I can’t see any reason to fuss about my looks. I don’t go out. And other than Pastor George, I don’t get many visitors.”
    “I have a feeling it’s because you run them off.”
    Gram furrowed her wrinkled brow. “What do you mean, I run them off?”
    “Well, it’s not as though you tell them to leave or throw bedpans and pill bottles at them. But people who love and care about you have a difficult time when you talk about wanting to die and discuss the funeral arrangements you’ve already made.”
    “Why shouldn’t I? I’m practically dead already. The Good Lord just wants to punish me and keep me here on earth, useless and unproductive. A burden. For goodness sake, I can’t paint. I can’t work in the garden. I can’t even look after Jason while you work.”
    “I doubt God would punish a good, kindhearted woman who’d once been active in church and