Chapter 5

After a few rings, she said, “Marjorie? Can I speak to Michael, please? Yes, I know this is the busy season, but it’s an emergency. Yes, I’ll hold.” Through the handset, Helen could hear a Muzak version of “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” and thought it most appropriate.

It took a long time for Michael to pick up. When he did, he sounded angry. “Yes, sir, I know,” Stella said. “It was an accident. No, I know this is your busy time of year. No, I’m not trying to mess everything up. Yes, sir. I know. I realize you have no Fixers available. Yes, I know this one is one that really needs fixing. What if... what if Helen goes?”

She was quiet for a moment, and Helen couldn’t hear Michael either until he distinctly asked, “Who’s that? I don’t have a Fixer named Helen.”

“No, sir, you don’t. She’s... she’s the woman’s grandmother. She’s in my office now.” More yelling. “No, no she wasn’t trying to watch. She just... startled me, that’s all. Yes, I know a blast of wind can cause havoc with anything, sir.” She rolled her eyes, and Helen wondered how it had been the wind that had stirred up trouble this time. “No, she’s never done anything like this before, but she knows Memory better than anyone.” More chatter from Michael, then Stella said, “Memory is the woman’s name. Yes, I know it’s an unusual name. No, I don’t know why her parents named her that. Yes, I think her grandmother can handle it. She seems... competent.” Stella looked at Helen for a moment, so she stood taller, trying to project confidence. “Yes, I will explain it to her. I understand. Yes, sir. Let me see.” She pulled out a drawer. “I have a copy of the handbook. Yes, all right. I understand. Thank you.” Stella hung up the phone, hanging her head as well. She pressed a few fingers to her forehead and inhaled deeply.

Helen waited, holding her breath, trying to be patient as she anticipated Stella’s acknowledgement. After what seemed like five minutes had passed, she finally said, “Well?”

Stella looked up as if she’d forgotten Helen was there. “Michael has agreed to let you go.”

Helen couldn’t help but clap her hands in excitement. She loved the idea of seeing Memory again—as well as her two little great-grandchildren, Lorelei and Anson, and their parents—her granddaughter Kirsten and her husband Maison. Her son-in-law, Bryce, had always taken such good care of her. There were her friends from church....

“Mrs. Graham, I hope you understand, it is vitally important that you be successful in this endeavor. Michael has threatened to fire me from my position if you do not come through. I’ve been doing this job for hundreds of years, and I enjoy it, so please pay careful attention as I go over the rules with you.”

“Yes, of course,” Helen said, focusing on Stella. She sat in the chair she’d previously vacated but kept her bottom on the edge, ready to leap up.

Stella pulled out a drawer in her desk and brought out a book titled Angel’s Handbook. It wasn’t very thick and would easily fit in the palm of Helen’s hand. “Now, this book contains information for every job an angel might be assigned. You’re going to want to carefully read Chapter Six, ‘Fixing Things Up.’ It will explain everything to you.” Stella handed the book over, knocking over the paperweight in the process. She righted it as Helen opened the volume.

The print on the page was minuscule, but somehow, Helen was able to read it. She now understood how the book could be so small. It might take her ages to read through all of this. “I will certainly read it,” Helen promised, “but might you be able to go over the highlights?”

Frustration seemed to bubble out of Stella’s head. “Essentially, the rules are quite simple. You may not reveal your true identity under any circumstances. You may use magic when it suits you, but not for things like bringing yourself or others back from the dead or for manipulating people’s feelings—use it strictly for travel and for handling inanimate objects when none of the living are looking. I will be able to speak to you directly through prayer--which is two-way communication, contrary to popular belief.” Helen nodded, but she still had several questions. Stella didn’t pause. “You will have until Christmas Eve to complete your task. If you cannot do it by then, when you will return here, I’ll lose my job, and Michael will have to find some other way to fix the problem—if it’s even fixable. Also, you cannot reveal anything about Heaven that isn’t specifically mentioned in the Bible. You will be given a new identity, money, all of those types of things that you need, but nothing more. At night, when everyone on earth you’re interacting with is sleeping, you may check in with your family here if you wish since you will not require rest. What are your questions?”

“How will they not recognize me?”

“You will look like a different woman—however you want to look,” Stella said with a shrug. “We haven’t had time to plan out what sort of a person might be able to fix this problem, so I suggest you don’t stray too far from your own personality. What else?”

Thoughts of what she might look like flooded Helen’s mind as she tried to remember her other questions. “When can I leave?”

“As soon as you like.”

“Can I say goodbye to my husband and daughter?”

“Yes, but don’t go into too much detail about what you’re up to. I have a feeling no good can come of it.”

Helen thought things through again. It seemed like she should have a million questions. “Can you tell me what was supposed to happen?”

Stella let out a loud sigh, aggravation building as she thought about how everything had been ruined. “Memory was sitting on a bench outside of the coffee shop, reminiscing, I suppose. She had a book on the bench next to her. When she stood to leave, she was supposed to forget the book. Dakota came along a moment later. He was meant to see the book, pick it up, and hand it to her—meet-cute in full swing.”

Helen nodded. Memory was always forgetting things, leaving them behind. It sounded like her granddaughter. “What happened instead?”

Her face turning slightly red, Stella folded her arms. “Not that. Let’s just say, when I waved my arms, I created a blustery wind.... It doesn’t matter. Now, you have to fix it. So, have you decided who you want to be?”

“Not exactly,” Helen admitted. Thinking back to the receptionist, she said, “But I know I’d like to have red hair. And a slender figure.”

Stella looked down her nose sharply at Helen as if she were saying looks weren’t everything. “Anything else?”

“I’d like to be in my late-fifties. My bones felt better then, not as many aches and pains as when I was older. Oh, and if I could be taller....”

“This is not a beauty contest, Mrs. Graham. All right. I’ll see what I can put together. You go on home and say goodbye to your husband and daughter for a little while. You’ll be able to check in with them but otherwise you’ll be gone for a few weeks. Oh, I hope this works. If not....” Stella ran her hand across her desk lovingly and gazed around the room.

“It’ll work,” Helen assured her. “I know my Memory. I’ll find a way.”

Stella nodded, but her frown stayed put. Excitement bubbling inside of her, Helen spun around and headed for the door, grateful she’d have a chance to see Memory again, even if her granddaughter wouldn’t recognize her. Watching her fall in love would be the greatest Christmas gift Helen could think of.