December
Eleven Months Later
Gabriel opened the huge book of prayers and scanned through the large number of requests that crossed his desk on an hourly basis. He issued orders to the Prayer Ambassadors left and right. Heaven was abuzz with activity.
They were coming upon the Christmas season, which was often their busiest time of year, stretching the angels assigned as Prayer Ambassadors to their limit. Earth was hectic at this time of year; humans were harried and Gabriel wanted to stay ahead of the rush as much as possible.
He ran his finger down the lengthy list and paused when he found one that remained unanswered from a New York woman named Wendy Ferrara. It was almost eleven months old. He frowned and then tapped his foot. Something tugged at his mind, a nagging sensation that he hadn’t been able to put to rest.
Ah, he remembered this prayer. Upon receiving it, he’d ordered an investigation. Once the report was back, he’d read it, grumbled under his breath, and then set it aside until he could decide the best way to handle this awkward situation. Apparently his three favorite angels had taken matters into their own hands. And worse, they had dragged their young apprentice into it, too. Gabriel had assigned Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy as mentors to Will, and they’d done an excellent job. Well, other than this one not-so-minor indiscretion. This was a delicate matter that required careful handling.
The time to deal with Wendy Ferrara’s prayer was now. He called for the three Prayer Ambassadors and their apprentice. No sooner had he sent for them when Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy appeared, their wings fluttering with excitement and anticipation.
Taking on a serious pose, Gabriel looked up from his desk. The three were all smiles.
“You asked to see us,” Shirley said, looking serene and sublime. These angels were magnificent creatures. Some of God’s finest work, along with the Warrior Angels and, naturally, humans, who were created in God’s own image.
“I know why you sent for us,” Goodness bragged.
Gabriel arched his thick white brows. “You do?”
“You’re ready to give us an assignment on Earth.”
Mercy nodded eagerly. “You’ve already run low on Prayer Ambassadors and are looking to put us back in action. Our methods might not be conventional, but we get prayers answered.”
Gabriel didn’t respond as he made a show of turning the page of the prayer request book. “Actually this has to do with—”
“Sorry I’m late. I was …” Will popped in, and seeing Gabriel with his three mentors, he stopped short.
“I’m pleased you could join us,” Gabriel said with just a hint of sarcasm. He quite liked the lad and felt Will would serve God well once he was properly trained.
“I’m glad, too.” Will straightened to full attention, folding his wings tightly against his body, and stood with his back straight, his look respectful.
Gabriel stepped around his desk and clasped his hands behind him. “It’s come to my attention that the four of you made an unscheduled visit to Earth last January.”
“New Year’s Eve, to be precise,” Shirley supplied and raised her index finger. “I want it on the record that I was against the idea from the beginning. I wanted no part of this scheme, and—”
“But you joined in,” Gabriel said, cutting her off.
“Well, yes, I realize it probably looks bad but I felt having someone sensible tag along was absolutely necessary. There was no telling what trouble Goodness and Mercy could get into without me there to watch over them.”
“We didn’t—”
Gabriel cut Goodness off. “I want to know who was responsible for the fiasco involving Lucie Ferrara and Aren Fairchild?”
Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy all found it necessary to look elsewhere with their lips tightly pinched together.
“That would be me,” Will murmured. He, too, had trouble meeting Gabriel’s gaze.
“Explain what happened.” Gabriel used his sternest voice.
Will stepped forward and stared straight ahead. “To be fair to my mentors I was warned not to get involved with humans, but I—”
“You mean to say you actually mingled with humans?”
Will’s slow nod revealed his reluctance. “Mercy explained only those with spiritual eyes could see us.”
“Did anyone notice you?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?” Gabriel pressed.
“Not entirely, but if I was recognized no one said anything.”
Gabriel walked around his desk. “You’d best tell me everything.” His gaze connected with Mercy, who sighed and moved to stand with Will. “I accept responsibility. I lost sight of Shirley and while I was searching for her, Will disappeared.”
“In other words this trouble is a direct result of your disobedience.” He pinned her with his eyes. He was silently pleased she was willing to step forward and admit her mistake, although he had a sneaky suspicion all three were involved in this debacle.
Mercy squirmed uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny. “I’d like to think of our short sojourn to Earth as an unplanned training exercise.”
Gabriel directed his next question to Will. “And what did you learn, young man?”
“Ah …” Will seemed to go speechless and looked to his mentors for help.
“Well, for one thing,” Shirley said, coming to her charge’s rescue, “I learned not to allow cranky toddlers to distract me.”
“And then Goodness got lured away by those network cameras and I had to distract her before she showed up on the Jumbotron again …”
“And that’s when the bell struck midnight and all those humans started kissing and singing,” Will chimed in.
“And …” Gabriel wanted the full story.
“And I introduced these two people,” the apprentice angel admitted, looking down at his feet.
“Lucie and Aren?”
“I didn’t get their names.”
“Lucie and Aren,” Gabriel said a bit louder.
“They kissed,” Will said excitedly. “I saw them.”
“And you interfered with God’s plan for them to meet,” Gabriel muttered, shaking his head as though thoroughly discouraged.
“You mean God intended for them to meet all along?” Mercy asked, her voice slightly elevated with excitement.
“Yes, but their meeting wasn’t scheduled to happen for several months and now everything is askew.”
“Is there anything I can do to set matters right?” Will asked. “Because I’d be willing to volunteer to return to Earth and do whatever is necessary to make amends.”
I just bet you would, Gabriel thought. It was already apparent that Will had caught the enthusiasm for Earth as badly as his mentors.
“That is,” Will continued, “if you were willing to trust me again.”
To his credit the apprentice looked appropriately chagrined and repentant. Gabriel mused over the question as he rubbed his chin, wondering if there was a simple way around this problem. “Well, with some effort you might be able to untangle this mess.”
“Does this mean it’ll be necessary to return to Earth?” Goodness asked breathlessly, hopefully.
“And naturally as Will’s mentors we would need to accompany him,” Shirley added as though it was understood Will couldn’t possibly handle this awkward situation without their assistance.
“Well …”
“At great personal sacrifice, I’ll personally volunteer to accompany Will without the others,” Mercy offered.
Gabriel watched as Mercy’s two friends glared at her in undisguised outrage. Several feathers broke loose and floated to the floor, a sure indication that they were perturbed by Mercy’s willingness to leave them behind.
“Seeing that the three of you were in this together I feel it’s only fair that you all accompany Will and straighten this out.”
“We’ll leave right this minute.” Shirley didn’t bother to disguise her zeal to take on the project.
“Hold on,” Gabriel said, stopping them. “There have been a number of significant changes.”
“Oh.”
“In order for you to understand the complexity of the situation, you’ll need to take a look at Lucie’s and Aren’s lives now, all these months later.”
He waved his arms and the thin veil that separated Earth from heaven’s view vanished. The three Prayer Ambassadors along with their apprentice intently watched through the clearing fog.
“What’s that?” Will asked.
“That’s Heavenly Delights,” Gabriel said. “Lucie and her mother opened the restaurant in April. It’s doing amazingly well. Lucie creates tantalizing desserts, and the restaurant has caused quite a stir in Brooklyn—and all without printed advertisement. Their success has come by word of mouth.” He wondered if any of them got his small pun. Apparently not.
“That’s wonderful.”
“Lucie puts in long hours. Her mother serves as the hostess. Wendy is warm and welcoming and makes their dinner guests feel as if they were coming into her home.”
“Heavenly Delights,” Goodness repeated. “What a perfect name for a restaurant.”
“Most everyone assumes the name comes from the wonderful desserts, which are said to be inspired,” Gabriel explained.
“You mean it doesn’t?”
“No.” He was quite pleased that the idea for the name had come from someone they all knew quite well. “Actually, another angel, a dear, dear friend of mine, happened to give it that name.”
“What friend?”
“I realize it must come as a surprise but amazingly I do have friends.”
“Of course …”
“Naturally.”
“It was Mrs. Miracle,” Gabriel said, grinning. “Because of Emily, Lucie got a last-minute catering contract just before Christmas a couple of years back. That event is what got the ball rolling with the restaurant.”
“And now the restaurant is a reality.”
“What’s that in the corner?” Will pointed to the refrigeration display unit close to the hostess table.
“That,” Gabriel said, “is a display case for Lucie’s sweet concoctions. Her desserts have become so popular that it’s difficult to get a reservation for dinner. Wendy—that’s her mother—came up with the idea of selling the desserts as a take-out item. The idea has worked exceptionally well.”
“When were Aren and Lucie scheduled to meet … originally?” Will wanted to know.
“In just a few days, Earth time.”
“How?”
“Well, they were never supposed to bump into each other, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Will did look wretched over all this. “I’d like to do what I can to make matters right.”
“And I’ll give you the opportunity.”
“Thank you, Gabriel.”
“Yes, thank you,” Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy echoed.
Gabriel sighed. He hoped he wouldn’t come to regret this decision. “Aren Fairchild works for the New York Gazette as the food critic who writes under the pseudonym of Eaton Well, which is a name owned by the newspaper.”
“Eaton Well,” Mercy repeated. “That’s clever.”
“He’s under contract not to reveal his identity. The Lifestyle editor finds up-and-coming restaurants for Aren.”
“Then he makes a reservation, dines there, and writes up a review without anyone at the restaurant knowing who their secret customer is,” Mercy said, thinking out loud.
“Exactly.”
Will looked crestfallen. “They were originally scheduled to meet at the restaurant, when Aren falls in love with the woman behind the fabulous desserts.”
“Not all matters like this go as planned.” Gabriel didn’t want to break the young man’s spirit. His heart was in the right place.
“What’s happening now?” Mercy asked, peering down into the kitchen.
“Let’s find out,” Gabriel said. With a wave of his arms, the conversation between Lucie and her mother suddenly became audible.
“Lucie,” Wendy said, stepping into the pantry.
Lucie sat on a crate of recently delivered supplies with a copy of the New York Gazette spread open. The instant she heard her mother’s voice, Lucie tried unsuccessfully to hide the newspaper.
Her mother paused and her shoulders sagged. “Oh, Lucie, you’re looking for Aren’s name again, aren’t you?”
Lucie couldn’t see any reason to hide the obvious. “It isn’t here. He must not have taken the job after all.”
Her mother’s smile faded. “I hate that I was responsible for you not meeting him that day. I can barely look at the Empire State Building and not think about the missed opportunity.”
“Mom, stop. It wasn’t meant to be.” She’d told herself that a hundred times and tried to believe it, although she hadn’t been able to get Aren out of her mind.
“But you still think of him.”
Lucie didn’t bother to deny it. She did think of Aren. As hard as she tried to forget him, it hadn’t worked. She couldn’t help wondering how long he’d waited for her that day. Had he stood in the cold, hoping she’d arrive with a logical explanation of why she was late? Did he regret that they hadn’t exchanged contact information the way she did? “If it’s meant to happen we’ll meet again.” She remembered her mother’s prayer and added one of her own.
“I came in to tell you every table is booked again tonight and we’re already getting reservation requests into the new year.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“I’d like for you to take New Year’s Eve off this year.”
“Mom, I can’t do that. It’s bound to be one of the busiest nights of the season for us.”
“Don’t worry … we’ll bring in extra help.”
“Mom, I can’t. I know what you’re thinking. You want me to return to Times Square on the off chance I’ll run into Aren again. I can’t do that. I won’t. It would be nothing more than a wild-goose chase, an impossibility.”
“Oh, Lucie, I didn’t realize you could be this stubborn.”
Lucie laughed. She couldn’t help it. “And just who do you think I inherited this trait from?”
“Your father,” Wendy insisted and then they both laughed.
“I’m pleased to see how well the restaurant is doing,” Shirley said.
“Poor Lucie, though,” Will whispered and exhaled sharply. “She’s never forgotten Aren.”
“What was all that talk about a meeting?” Goodness scratched the side of her head as if she’d missed something important.
Gabriel explained.
“Lucie didn’t show?” Mercy inquired anxiously.
“No, and Aren waited as long as the guards would let him. He returned a second time as well.”
“Oh my, poor Aren.”
“Does he think of Lucie, too?”
Gabriel nodded. “All the time.”
“Just a minute … hold on here.” Mercy started pacing Gabriel’s office.
“What?” Shirley asked, studying her friend.
“What are we waiting for?” Goodness looked from Mercy to Gabriel. “We have work to do.”
Mercy started waving her hand, one wing flapping as she spoke. “I get it. I get it. Aren’s a food critic. His byline will never show in the paper in order to keep his identity a secret.”
“Yes,” Gabriel said and waited for Mercy to complete her thought.
“And he’s been assigned to review Heavenly Delights, right?”
“Right.”
“And that’s how they were originally intended to meet?”
Gabriel said nothing. He wanted them to work this out for themselves.
“He couldn’t let her know about the pseudonym,” Shirley reminded them, “because of his contract with the newspaper.”
“But he would fall in love with Lucie’s desserts even before he met her,” Mercy cried with what appeared to be perfect logic.
“Now it’s our job to be sure Aren and Lucie meet again.” Will’s face brightened with excitement. “We can do that, Gabriel, leave everything to us.”
“You’re sure you’re up to the task?”
“Without question.”
“Then have at it, my friends. And this time make sure you stay on task.”
“Not a problem,” Mercy promised.
Before he could issue a warning, the four disappeared. Gabriel grinned and then shook his head. All he could do now was stand back and watch as these four headed for Earth.
Heaven help them all.
Literally.
“Look, Aren’s already at the restaurant,” Will whispered. Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy joined him and the four gazed down from the light fixtures in the restaurant Heavenly Delights.
“Is that Lucie’s mother?” Goodness asked, looking toward the middle-aged woman who greeted Aren.
“Which woman? There are several.”
“The one who’s leading him to his table.”
“That’s her.”
“Who’s that woman with Aren?”
Will shook his head. “I don’t have a clue. She wasn’t with him on New Year’s Eve. In fact I’ve never seen her before. Have any of you?”
No one seemed to know. Mercy sighed, worried now. Perhaps Aren had met another woman, someone he liked even better than Lucie. The two certainly looked to be chummy, laughing and joking with each other. Oh dear, that would pose a significant problem. Something would need to be done and quickly.
Will wrung his hands, apparently worried as well. “Do you think it might be too late? Do you think Aren’s found someone else?”
“It could be a colleague.”
“Or a friend,” Shirley suggested.
“S-h-h, let’s listen to their conversation. Maybe that will tell us what we need to know.” Mercy didn’t understand why she had to be the practical one in the group. The others were far too quick to leap to conclusions.
“First impressions of a restaurant are important,” Aren said, unfolding the linen napkin and spreading it across his lap, looking up at his sister. “What are your thoughts?”
Josie looked around her, apparently taking in the ambience of the room. “The decorations are simple and subtle. I like that.”
“I do, too,” Aren agreed. Eye appeal was important—the dining experience was never just about the quality of the food.
“What about the hostess?” he asked next. His sister had dined with him several times and he’d come to appreciate her input. Tonight’s dinner was especially important. He’d worked for the newspaper nearly a year now and reviewed many different types of restaurants, from the very expensive to the very cheap, from the most famous and established to undiscovered holes in the wall. But he felt that a new, up-and-coming place like Heavenly Delights provided the greatest opportunity for both his readers and the restaurant.
Josie smiled. “She sort of reminds me of Aunt Lucille, so warm and friendly.” She paused and stared at him. “You’re frowning again. Any time I mention Aunt Lucille lately you get this funny look.”
“Do not.”
“Do, too. I’m your sister and I know a frown on you when I see one. You’re thinking about that girl you met New Year’s Eve again, aren’t you? Her name was Lucie.”
“No.” His denial was adamant. “Besides, I asked you not to bring her up again.” He’d made his case, given Lucie time, and apparently she wasn’t interested. Nothing gained, nothing lost … although Aren hadn’t been able to put her out of his mind.
Josie simply shook her head, Aren noted, indicating she didn’t think it was worth squabbling about. If they were going to argue about anything it should be Josie and her nonrelationship with Jack. His sister did a good job of hiding her broken heart but Aren wasn’t fooled. She was miserable and far too proud to admit it. He didn’t understand how two people who loved each other to the point of getting close to exchanging vows would suddenly decide to call it quits. Apparently, as the time for the wedding drew close, they’d both gotten cold feet. They’d argued and now stubbornness had taken over common sense.
“Are we going to bicker or look at the menu?” Josie asked, opening the menu. “What looks good to you?”
“I’m in the mood for fish.” Aren scanned the seafood section and found it diverse and impressive. The Dover sole served with beurre blanc sauce appealed to him. “That sauce can be tricky and is a good test of a chef’s expertise.” So was seafood, which so many restaurants tended to overcook.
“Did you hear that?” Will said triumphantly. “The woman with Aren is his sister.”
“And he’s still thinking about Lucie.” This was going to work out better than they’d planned. Mercy could see it already. She watched as brother and sister bantered back and forth, obviously good friends as well as siblings. After a few minutes, she glanced around and discovered Will was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s Will?” Shirley asked.
“I’m here,” he said, returning from some unknown destination. Mercy felt it was necessary to explain that it was important that they all stay together, and when she finished she discovered Shirley had disappeared as well.
“Now where’s Shirley?”
——
“The waitress is friendly and helpful,” Aren told his sister. Heavenly Delights was turning out to be everything it promised. If the food was as good as reported, he would gladly write up a favorable review. To this point he found it to be a pleasant dining experience, but the true test, as with every restaurant, was the food.
Several people had contacted the newspaper about this up-and-coming restaurant that had captured the attention of Brooklyn diners. The number of recommendations had been impressive enough for the editor to put it at the top of the list. But in Aren’s experience, many restaurants that came highly touted often didn’t live up to the hype. It was his job to notice the details most diners overlooked. It was like a singer who was gifted with perfect pitch. To anyone else a performer might sound fabulous, but someone with a good ear would instantly recognize when a note was even the slightest bit off key. Aren felt he had “perfect pitch” when it came to restaurants and food.
To this point everything met with his satisfaction. The restaurant was clean. The staff efficient without being intrusive, repeating the specials of the day without needing to refer to notes. Their wine order was taken and water glasses were promptly filled. A few minutes after their wine was served, freshly baked bread, still warm from the oven, was delivered to their table. Almost as soon as they set their menus aside their server came for their order. Ah, yes, this restaurant did show promise.
Aren and his sister sipped their wine and after just the right amount of time their meal arrived. His sole was artfully arranged on the plate with small dollops of whipped potatoes in golden toasted swirls. The vegetable was roasted asparagus topped with lemon zest.
“Oh my, that does look delicious.” His sister eyed his plate appreciatively.
“Yours does, too.” Josie had ordered the chicken Parmesan. The chicken had been fried to a lovely brown and topped with a blend of Italian cheeses. The meal was served with a side of spaghetti covered in a rich, red marinara sauce. Her dinner included both a side salad and toasted garlic bread. The scent of the warm bread and garlic was like an aphrodisiac. It was far too easy to overdo the garlic. The kitchen hadn’t.
“My compliments to the chef.” Josie reached for her fork.
“You haven’t tasted your dinner yet,” he chastised.
“Well, my goodness, if it tastes even half as good as it smells, I’ll be in heaven.”
Aren grinned and rolled his eyes. Looks could be deceiving.
“Speaking of the chef.”
Aren raised his hand, stopping her. “Don’t mention the name.”
Josie set her fork aside. “Why not?”
“It’s better I not know, otherwise it might influence my opinion. I’ve seen too many others in my line of work be influenced by a cooking celebrity.” He didn’t dare say anything that would indicate to anyone within hearing distance that he wrote for the Gazette. Aren judged the food. Not the reputation. Not the number of cookbooks published and certainly not the fame. What mattered to him was the food and the overall dining experience.
“You haven’t tasted your dinner yet,” Josie said.
Filled with anticipation, Aren reached for his fork. The sole was cooked perfectly. His mouth watered with eagerness to sample his first bite. He closed his eyes, expecting sheer delight.
Delight wasn’t the word he’d use to describe the sole. In fact, it took restraint not to spit it out. Only by sheer willpower did he manage to swallow his food.
In a word the sole was dreadful. The beurre blanc sauce was salty to the point that it ruined the entire dish. Apparently the chef realized the mistake and overcompensated with lemon, which left an acidic flavor so powerful he nearly puckered his lips. If that wasn’t bad enough, he distinctly tasted cayenne pepper. The only thing he considered edible was the asparagus, which was cooked to perfection. Unfortunately, everything else on his plate wasn’t fit for human consumption.
This meal was a serious disappointment. By contrast his sister seemed to savor every bite.
“Is something wrong with your dinner, sir?” the waitperson asked as she removed Josie’s empty plate. Unable to force himself to swallow a second bite of the fish, Aren’s plate remained basically untouched except for the one bite of sole, potatoes, and asparagus. Even the potatoes were off, so heavily buttered that their natural flavor was lost.
“No, everything is fine.” Aren forced himself to smile. In other circumstances he would have returned the plate to the kitchen and refused to pay.
“Could I interest you in dessert?” the waiter asked. “We’ve got a reputation for our wonderful desserts. I highly recommend our sea salt caramel mousse.”
“Salted mousse?” Aren repeated. Apparently the chef had a love affair with the salt shaker. Frankly he’d had all he could take. Nothing sweet would redeem this restaurant. He’d already gone through one glass of wine and two glasses of water in an effort to remove the foul taste from his mouth.
“I will,” Josie volunteered, far too eagerly, in his opinion.
“I’ll take a bite of hers,” Aren said.
His sister ordered the mousse and to be completely fair, Aren gave it a taste and it wasn’t half bad. He’d sampled others that were comparable but this chef way overdid the salt. This could be a health hazard to diners with high blood pressure or on a low-salt diet. The menu should come with a warning, which he planned to mention in his review.
“Aren didn’t like his dinner,” Will moaned.
“You don’t know that.”
Goodness was such an optimist. Even Mercy could see that Aren hadn’t taken more than one small bite of the fish. He’d scrunched up his face as if he’d bitten into a lemon and hardly tasted anything else afterward. He’d returned his plate to the kitchen practically untouched.
“His sister ate her dinner.”
A suspicion began to brew in Mercy’s mind. Each one of her friends had disappeared for short amounts of time. Could it be … was it possible …? Surely they wouldn’t tamper with the food.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” Will was more than a little upset and continued to rub his palms together as he mulled over the situation.
“Will, you vanished for a few moments just after Aren ordered the sole.”
“Hmmm, yeah.”
“Can you tell me where you went?”
“Ah …”
“You visited the kitchen, didn’t you?”
“Ah …”
Enough said, that was exactly what Will had done. “You didn’t by chance happen to add a bit of salt to the beurre blanc sauce, did you?”
Will shrugged and then reluctantly admitted to the deed. “Perhaps a little, but just a few shakes. All I was looking to do was heighten the natural flavors.”
“You added salt?” Shirley cried, tossing her hands into the air. “How could you?”
“I was only trying to help,” Will muttered.
“I fear Will wasn’t the only one,” Goodness confessed. “I added a little extra lemon.”
Almost afraid to ask, Mercy looked to Shirley.
“Seeing that red spice, I thought to brighten up the dish a bit,” the former Guardian Angel admitted. “And while I was there I might have stirred in a bit of this and that.”
“Oh dear.” Mercy’s shoulders sank. This was even worse than she’d assumed.
“What about you?” Will asked.
Mercy exhaled slowly and admitted she’d taken part in this, too. “Guilty as charged.”
“We all added extra spice to that wonderful sauce.” Will started to wring his hands. “We’ve ruined everything. Aren won’t have any choice but to write a scathing review. People will read it; it won’t be just the printed version either. Aren’s review will go online and soon it’ll be all over the Internet.”
“Lucie and her mother will be ruined,” Goodness cried. “Their business will go down in flames. Wendy’s entire life’s savings will dwindle away bit by bit and the two of them will lose everything. They won’t be able to pay their bills and will end up living on the streets, homeless and alone, and it will be my fault.”
“And mine,” Shirley wailed.
“We’ve ruined their lives.” Goodness was close to tears.
Mercy waved her arms, silencing her friends. “We have bigger worries than what’s going to happen to Lucie and her mother.”
“You mean there’s more?” Will cried.
“You mean it gets worse?”
With profound sadness Mercy nodded. “Much worse.”
Goodness cupped her mouth. “What more could happen?”
Mercy didn’t hold back. “Gabriel is going to find out what we did.”
Her two friends and Will gasped in horror.
“We’ve really done it this time. Moving a few aircraft carriers around is nothing compared to tampering with Lucie’s sauce.”
“This is the end for sure,” Shirley wailed.
“Did I hear one of you mention my name?” All at once Gabriel stood before them. He’d never looked more daunting, or unapproachable. His massive arms were crossed over his chest as he frowned down upon them.
Will scooted closer to Mercy. Shirley and Goodness crowded her sides as the four made themselves as small as possible.
“What happened here?” he demanded.
No one spoke.
“I asked you a question.” His voice seemed to boom and ricochet around the restaurant. It was a wonder no human heard him, although the walls felt as if they’d buckled with the power of his words.
“We tried to help Lucie impress Aren.” Mercy’s voice sounded as if she’d been tossed into a deep well. It echoed in her ears high-pitched and tinny.
“By adding salt, lemon, and cayenne to the sauce and a bit of extra butter to the potatoes?”
So he already knew.
“I’m afraid so.”
“What can we do to make this right?” Will asked. The dear boy really was concerned.
“It’s too late for that. Aren is going to write a review that isn’t the least bit favorable.” Gabriel didn’t pull any punches.
“Will it affect their business?”
“It will have the potential to destroy this restaurant. The New York Gazette can do that, you know.”
“Oh, no,” Goodness groaned. She had such a tender heart. Mercy knew that her friend would never forgive herself if Lucie and her mother lost the restaurant because of what they’d done.
“We were only trying to help,” Shirley said. “Please tell me that we can go back and undo what just happened.”
Sadness rimmed Gabriel’s eyes. “You know you can’t.”
“But in heaven …”
“This is Earth and we are bound by the frailties of a fallen world. There’s no undo button, no delete key. It is what it is.”
“What’s going to happen?” Mercy pleaded. Gabriel had the gift of being able to look into the future. Unfortunately, that was a skill they didn’t possess.
Gabriel sadly shook his head. “I think it might be best to wait and let you discover this for yourself. The four of you broke one of the cardinal rules of being Prayer Ambassadors.”
“We stepped in to help,” Goodness confessed.
“Our role is to guide.”
“We have a hands-off directive.”
“Now you will see for yourself what happens when you overstep in giving aid to humans.”
“But our intentions were good.”
“Intentions,” Gabriel repeated. “Intentions, my young man, are pavement along the road to destruction.”
“But—”
“This will be a painful lesson for you all.”
Mercy dreaded what was sure to happen next. “We’re banished from Earth, aren’t we?” Never again would they be allowed to visit humans. They might even lose their status as Prayer Ambassadors and be stripped of their wings. The thought was almost more than she could bear to consider.
Gabriel’s gaze focused on the four. “Have you learned your lesson?”
All four nodded simultaneously.
“Can you promise not to interfere in human affairs again?”
“I promise,” Will lamented. “I’ll never add salt to another dish as long as I serve the Lord.”
“Shirley, Goodness, and Mercy.” Gabriel turned his attention to the three of them. “You know better.”
They hung their heads, their wings drooping so that the tips brushed against the floor.
“What about Aren and Lucie?” Mercy felt she had to know how best to help these two … guide them, that is. She and her colleagues were responsible for messing up God’s plan. The least they could do was make things right, if possible.
“Ah, yes,” Gabriel mused aloud. “Aren and Lucie. Well, my friends, we’ll just have to wait and see what happens next.”