Christmas Angels Read online

  A Christmas Story? No.

  Miracle on 34th Street? Nope.

  It’s A Wonderful Life? Absolutely not.

  Kate stopped at House Hunters International and watched as a couple searched for a home on a tropical island.

  “I so should have gone somewhere this Christmas,” Kate said out loud, grabbing another iced cookie—this one in the shape of a star—and eating all five points off of it. “Somewhere sunny,” she mumbled, crumbs again falling out of her mouth.

  She looked out at the cold St. Louis night. Her neighborhood was aglow in holiday lights, while her home was dark. Kate tried to stop her mind from wandering back a year, but she couldn’t, and she remembered snuggling on this couch with Tyler watching holiday movies, after spending the day making Christmas cookies.

  Making iced holiday sugar cookies with her grandmother’s heirloom cookie cutters—metal cutouts of Santa, the North Star, candy canes, Christmas trees, bells, snowflakes, and, Kate’s favorite shape, angels—was one of Kate’s treasured childhood memories.

  When Kate would press out each cookie’s shape, she could feel her grandmother’s and mother’s hands reverberate in the worn wooden knobs of green and red that backed each cutter.

  She had loved the memory and cookies so much that it had become her company’s signature thank-you gift to every client who had hired her during the season. Kate had bought new holiday cookie cutters, but they could never match the history and beauty of the heirloom ones.

  Kate reached for another cookie—ones that her mother had made and sent to her today—but stopped herself.

  I won’t be making cookies this year, she said.

  Kate then thought of Coop.

  Do I really believe in angels? she wondered. Or did I just lie to him to make him feel better? And did my mom do the same to me?

  Kate nervously eyed the wrapped package that sat next to the tin of cookies.

  To: Kate, the gift tag read. Love: Mom.

  She had been able to open the cookies, which were marked FRAGILE! COOKIES! PRECIOUS CARGO! in her mother’s looping cursive, but she had not yet been able to open the accompanying card or gift as she didn’t know if she could yet handle her mother’s chipper optimism and unsolicited but well-intentioned advice.

  She nervously grabbed another cookie—this one of a pretty bell—and shoved it into her mouth.

  “Here goes nothing,” Kate mumbled, grabbing the card and gift. She could feel the sugar coursing through her body as she opened the card, which featured an angel sitting atop a Christmas tree.

  For my angel, it read on the outside.

  Of course, Kate thought.

  She opened the card.

  My Dear Kate:

  These cookies are just a little reminder of how sweet life is. Remember how much fun we had making them with Grandma? We will miss you for Christmas this year. I know how busy you are during the holidays, but I’m holding onto the rest of your gifts until I can watch you open them in front of me. The first week of January will be our delayed Christmas, OK?

  I’m worried about you, sweetheart. I know that you’re sad. But you know that work won’t bake a Christmas turkey with you, or holiday cookies, or sit under the tree with you and open presents.

  You need to have some fun. Get back out there. Life is short. Make cookies for your clients. Go have a drink with a friend. I bet you got invited to a hundred parties.

  Remember what your grandmother used to say:

  “Life is a pain in the patootie, and everyone’s pain and sadness is magnified during the holidays. But the joy can also be magnified, too.”

  Life isn’t perfect, Kate, like the world you decorate and the parties you throw, but it can still be as beautiful as every tree you light.

  My first gift to you this Christmas is the most personal: I hope it helps you find your happiness again, helps you soar, helps you get the holiday spirit again.

  Don’t lose your shine. You’re the brightest light in the world. You’re my brightest light, too. You’re my angel.

  Love, Mom

  P.S. And don’t eat all the cookies in one night. Put the cookie down, Kate!

  Kate laughed out loud and then ran her fingers over her mother’s handwriting. She reached for the gift, which was wrapped in Peanuts paper—Charlie Brown, Linus, and Snoopy around the fragile Christmas tree with the falling needles Charlie had rescued and Linus had wrapped in his blanket.

  Kate opened the box and gasped: Her family’s heirloom cookie cutters were inside.

  She pulled out the cookie cutters of Santa, the North Star, candy canes, Christmas trees, bells, a snowflake. Kate finally picked up the cookie cutter of an angel.

  Kate set the package down and tried to calm herself. She picked up the remote and again changed the channel to distract herself, this time stopping at the Food Network, where the show was a holiday cookie bakeoff.

  Is the universe trying to tell me something? Kate thought.

  Her phone trilled, and she picked it up without looking, thinking it must be her mom.

  “I put the cookie down, Mom,” she said.

  A man’s booming laugh echoed over the other end.

  “Glad to hear it,” he said.

  “Who is this?” Kate asked, suddenly panicked.

  “Chad Cooper,” he said.

  Kate sat up, her heart racing.

  “Is everything OK?” she asked, even more panicked as she realized she hadn’t heard from him since she’d decorated his home with his son.

  “More than OK,” he said softly. “I…” Chad hesitated. “I’m sorry to call out of the blue, but I just had to give you a ring. Your assistant gave me your home number.” He stopped. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did here.”

  “Well, it was all your partners’ doing,” Kate started.

  “No,” he said. “I mean, the decorating is beautiful, but it’s really what you did for my son. He’s…” Again, he hesitated, and his voice softened, “… back. He’s back to being a kid.”

  Kate was silent for a moment. The emotion in Chad’s voice was palpable, almost as if he were willing the words to come out, and the meaning behind his words touched Kate’s heart.

  “I didn’t do anything,” she said.

  Wrong thing to say, Kate thought as soon as she spoke the words.

  “I think a jury would rule otherwise,” Chad said. “If you get a chance tomorrow, Coop would love it if you could stop by. There’s something he wants to show you.”

  “I’m awfully busy,” Kate started.

  “I know,” Chad said. “I just thought…” He stopped. “I just wanted to thank you. Have a great weekend. And if I don’t see you, have a great Christmas.”

  And, with that, Chad hung up.

  What just happened? Kate thought.

  Kate’s eyes darted to the TV, where amateur chefs were making their best holiday cookies. The show cut to a commercial when one of the bakers realized he had forgotten to add baking powder to their dough. Kate began to change the channel, but a commercial for a holiday angel food cake stopped her cold.

  Kate stood, grabbed her gift, walked into the kitchen, clicked on the lights, turned on the oven, pulled out some granulated and powdered sugar, flour, butter, eggs, vanilla, and then readied her aqua blue mixer. She lined up an army of food coloring—red, green, blue, gold—as well her best holiday cookie baking friends: colored sprinkles, holly sprinkles, assorted colors of nonpareils, small and large sugar snowflakes, decorating bags and tips, and toothpicks. She set aside her signature handmade gift tags cut out in the shapes of little trees for the holidays. Kate then placed her family’s antique cookie cutters on her counter.

  Without thinking, Kate said, “Alexa, please play Holiday Classics from Pandora.” As Bing began to sing, Kate remembered all the holidays she had made cookies with her mom and grandma, all the holidays when family had been near, all of the clients whose lives she had made a bit happier during the year, and even the love she had felt f
or Tyler.

  As Kate began to mix the ingredients, she stopped and picked up the cookie cutter of an angel, running her fingers over its heavenly outline, feeling the wooden knob that had been lovingly held by generations of her family.

  A smile crossed Kate’s face, and she began to bake.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Tree Topper

  “This is a surprise,” Chad Cooper said the following day when he opened the door, looking dapper in a black turtleneck and gray slacks.

  Kate suddenly wished she had put more effort into the jeans, old sweater, big scarf, and ancient bomber jacket she had tossed on.

  At least I threw on the angel pin, she reasoned.

  “I brought cookies,” Kate said, the words tumbling quickly out of her mouth.

  Chad smiled, but then his face dropped as he scanned Kate.

  Why didn’t I wear something cuter? Kate thought, seeing his reaction.

  “So, did you finally put the cookie down and bring me the leftovers?” Chad deadpanned, shaking his head.

  Kate winced and then laughed. “You have a memory like an elephant,” she said.

  “I’m a trial attorney,” Chad said, his hazel eyes glowing in the sunlight. “Come in. It’s freezing out there.”

  He led Kate into the kitchen, and she handed over the cookies.

  “May I?” Chad asked. Kate nodded, and he popped the Tupperware. “Wow! These are works of art. Just like your holiday decorating.”

  “Thanks,” Kate said, her face flushing.

  “And delicious,” Chad said, picking a Santa cookie and chomping off his heavily frosted beard. “Do you make these for all your clients?”

  “I have in the past,” she said. “But not this year.”

  “Why’s that?” Chad asked, stuffing Santa’s red frosted hat into his mouth.

  Kate looked away nervously.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I tend to ask way too many questions. It’s in the DNA. Would you like anything? I mean, you brought me cookies. A cup of coffee, water, glass of wine…?”

  Kate checked her watch with great drama. “Wine? It’s only two p.m.”

  “It’s Sunday, I’ve been to church, and I’m Catholic,” Chad said. “So wine at two is also in my DNA.” He smiled. “Janet took Coop to a holiday thing at the zoo. They should be back in a bit.”

  “OK then,” Kate said. “I’ll have a glass of something red.”

  “That’s the right answer—and color—for the Queen of Holiday Decorating.”

  Chad pulled a bottle from a wine rack and grabbed an electronic opener.

  He poured two glasses, handed one to Kate, and said, “Follow me,” leading her into the family room.

  She took a seat in a Hemingway-esque leather chair near the roaring fireplace and sipped her wine. “Mmmmm, this is lovely.”

  “It’s a Côtes du Rhône,” he said. “I bought a case on a trip to France.” He gestured toward the tree with his glass. “Bet you never get a chance to enjoy your own work,” he said.

  “I don’t,” Kate said, his simple statement resonating deeply with her. “I hope you like what I did. It wasn’t the easiest of jobs under the circumstances.”

  Chad lifted his glass to drink but stopped. For a few seconds, there was silence.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Kate said nervously, trying to fill the awkward gap. She hesitated and took a sip of wine. “It’s just, you know, with your partners hiring me, and you not knowing, and me not knowing you, and Coop being here…” She stopped. “I’m babbling.”

  Chad smiled. “I know you didn’t mean it like that,” he said, settling into a matching chair opposite Kate. “No need to apologize. It must have been a bit of a strange situation.” This time, he hesitated and took a sip of his wine. He looked at Kate and said in a soft voice, “People find it hard to talk to me now. They’re nervous all the time. They treat me as if I’m going to collapse, or scream and run away, or … I don’t know what.”

  Chad looked into the fire, the warmth making his handsome face glow. “My wife was sick for a very long time,” he finally said. “I went from her fiancé to caregiver in the blink of an eye. And we fought to have Coop. I wouldn’t change a thing. Our love was…” Chad stopped, and Kate could see his lips quiver. His gaze landed on the Christmas tree. “… pure. As big as heaven.”

  Kate could feel her heartbeat in her throat.

  “I’m so tired,” he said, looking at Kate. “I can never admit that to anyone.”

  Me, either, Kate thought. Losing Tyler was hard, but I can’t imagine losing a spouse and a mother.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know,” Chad said. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I think it’s partly because I don’t know you very well and partly because I think you’re one of the first people to let my son know it was OK to smile again, to have fun, to remember his mom and yet go on living without her, no matter how hard it is. We need to hear that, you know. I want Coop to be a little boy again, and you helped him do that.” Chad lifted his glass. “So thank you.”

  Kate smiled and leaned over to clink his glass.

  “Why aren’t you with family?” he asked. “We’re only a few days out from Christmas.” Chad stopped. “See, in the DNA.”

  “Why aren’t you?” she asked instead.

  “I … can’t,” he said. “I’m just not ready this year. You?”

  “Me either. Long story,” Kate said. “Broken heart.”

  “Tell me about it if you want,” Chad said. “I’m a good listener. I know a lot about broken hearts. And you want to know a secret?” Kate nodded. “I wasn’t watching football when you got here. I was watching an old Lifetime movie. It’s one of my dirty secrets.”

  Kate laughed out loud and then—for some reason—she told him all about Tyler. When she finished, their glasses were empty. Chad stood, and Kate thought he was going to refill her wine. Instead, he leaned down and gave her a hug so tender and heartfelt that Kate could feel her body calm for the first time in ages.

  “Thank you for listening,” she said. “It felt good to get that out.”

  She smiled as Chad sat down again. I feel a little silly telling him that after all he’s been through, Kate thought. I can’t imagine a dad and his little boy being all alone.

  Chad sensed her emotions and said, “Loss comes in all different ways,” he said, “and affects each of us differently. I miss Ella every day, and I’m sure you still miss Tyler, too.”

  Kate nodded. “So is that why you didn’t attend the holiday party at your firm?”

  Chad nodded. “I just couldn’t do it,” he said. “Just like I can’t see my or Ella’s families this year. It sounds so incredibly selfish, and I know Coop needs his grandparents, but…” He let his voice trail off. “… people don’t really seem to want me or Coop to move on yet. I know it’s early for them, for me, for all of us, but they sort of want us to remain as we always were—in still life, like the art I collect—but that’s not real life, and it’s not what Ella would have wanted. I thought it was important that it just be the two of us this year.” Chad hesitated.

  “I took care of her for almost a decade,” he continued. “I loved her more than anything in this world except for our son. But I’ve been in this holding pattern for a long time, almost like I’ve been holding my breath.”

  Chad exhaled. “I need to start breathing again, one day at a time,” he said. He stopped and turned toward the tree. “Ella loved the holidays.” He hesitated again. “Why the angels? How did you know they were special to our family?”

  “I didn’t,” Kate said. “I just went off of intuition. You mentioned angels a few times. And then Coop told me how much his mother loved them.”

  “I’m sorry, but I have to ask where you got that pin,” Chad said, his voice suddenly soft. “It’s been on my mind ever since I saw you in my office.”

  Kate nodded. “And it’s been on my mind since Coop show
ed me a photo of your wife wearing a pin just like mine,” she admitted. “Such a strange coincidence, isn’t it? This was a gift from my ex. It was the last gift he gave me … last Christmas … before we broke up.”

  “Do you mind if I see it?” Chad asked.

  “No,” Kate said, removing the angel and handing it to Chad.

  He studied it closely, turning it over and running his fingers over every angle before looking Kate in the eye. “It’s my wife’s pin. I’m one hundred percent certain.”

  Kate’s mouth dropped. “What? There’s no way. It can’t be.”

  Chad looked at the pin again closely. “I don’t know what came over me, but I couldn’t bear to look at the pin any more after Ella died, especially right before Christmas. She wore it every day during the holidays. I got it for her our first Christmas. She loved antiques, and she loved angels. This pin was just sitting out on her dresser—seeming to wait for her—and it haunted me. I was so grief-stricken, I picked it up one day on my way to work, stopped at an antique jewelry store downtown on the way home, and sold it. It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I never thought I’d see it again.”

  He began to hand it back to Kate.

  “No,” Kate said. “You keep it. It’s yours.”

  “No,” he said softly. “It’s yours.” He looked at Kate. “It needs to be yours. It fits you.”

  He stopped and looked out the window before again turning his gaze on Kate, who realized his eyes were nearly the color of the tree’s branches. “There have just been so many coincidences between us, haven’t there? The bumping into one another. The decorating. The angels. It’s like our flight paths have been intentionally crossed on purpose.”

  Chad handed her the pin. She took the angel and pinned it on her sweater.

  “I think it’s my wife’s doing,” he said softly. He looked up at Kate, his face emotional. “It sounds crazy, but I do.”

  Kate ducked her head.

  “What do you think?” Chad asked.

  “It’s not crazy,” she said. “I think angels surround us.”

  “Do you believe in angels? I know I asked you before, but I’m still on the fence.”