Chapter Three

December 2, 2019

Helen Graham rushed down the hall, sliding her feet along the polished white marble like she was a kid, even though she was far from it if she counted by earthly years. After almost eleven months in this place, she was beginning to get used to the Big Guy’s affinity for all things pure and gleaming, though in her own home on the other side of the park from the administrative office she was visiting, she preferred to have as many colors as possible—bold reds, vibrant blues, and a color she hadn’t even known existed until she’d come here—blueple. Joe preferred more muted tones, but he could have all the browns and dark greens he wanted in his man-cave, so long as he didn’t interfere with Helen’s bright living room and kitchen.

Glancing down at her watch, she saw that she had two minutes. Punctuality had never been her strength in life, and it was something she was working on now as well. Not that the scatter-brained AA she was rushing to meet would likely be ready for her anyway. In their monthly meetings before, Stella hadn’t proven herself to be on top of things, and Helen often wondered how she got to be an Angel Assistant in the first place. She figured Stella must’ve known someone who knew someone who knew the Big Guy well. Either that or she’d just been around so long, she’d managed to get the job that way. With one minute to spare, Helen slid to a stop in front of the large white door, took a deep breath, and went in.

The waiting room was full of other angels, all of them wearing similar outfits to Helen’s white blouse and pants. She wore whatever she liked at home, but when one visited the administrative offices, or if one were lucky enough to be invited to the Big Guy’s home on the hill, it was best to wear white. She stood in a line three deep, waiting her turn, and when she reached the receptionist, she said, “Hello there. Helen Graham here to see Stella Smithy.”

“Yes, dear,” the receptionist, a woman with bright red hair and a large smile, replied. “I’ll let Stella know you’re here.”

“Thank you.” Helen returned the smile. “Your hair is so pretty. I always wanted to be a redhead, but the only way I could’ve managed that was out of a bottle.” She tugged on a lock of her mousy brown hair, which she’d taken to wearing long again now that she wasn’t old any more—not that she was young either. She just was....

“You can be a redhead if you like,” the receptionist, Ginger, according to her name plate, reminded her. “Here, you can be anything you want, so long as it’s pleasing to the Big Guy.”

“Right,” Helen remembered. She wondered what Joe would think if she came home with bright red hair.

“Have a seat, and she’ll call you back shortly.”

Helen nodded and took a seat near a woman who was knitting as she waited. Looking up from her work, the woman smiled politely but didn’t speak. Helen got the impression she hadn’t been here long. Her hands were shaking a bit as she purled.

One of the office doors opened and an AA stepped out, calling a name as he looked around the sitting area. A man dressed all in white except for his black socks, which looked odd poking out of his white loafers, rushed off in that direction, adjusting his belt as if he meant to impress.

Helen was glad she hadn’t busted her back getting here on time since it was obvious all of the AAs were running behind. She glanced at her watch again. Joe would probably be fixing lunch about now. It was so nice to be back together with him. When he’d passed on, she’d never gotten over it. He’d suffered a heart attack a few years after their beloved daughter, Ann, had passed giving birth to their granddaughter, Memory. Both events had been heartbreaking for Helen, and if it hadn’t been for Memory, she might’ve never gotten past either of them. Her granddaughter had been the light that kept her going.

Now that Helen had passed on, she worried about Memory. They’d always been so close, and Memory didn’t have many friends. She was a beautiful girl, but she hardly ever dated anyone. There had been that boy in college—Alex something-or-other—but he’d lived in Indianapolis and wasn’t willing to give up his big city lifestyle to move back to tiny Christmas Falls. Memory had always been a bit different than others, wise beyond her years but not always willing to trust other people, possibly because she’d lost her mom when she was born. She worked so hard and never made time for herself. It was a shame. Memory deserved to meet someone special and start a family of her own.

“Helen?” Stella’s familiar voice called from across the room.

Helen smiled and waved, checking whether or not she’d brought a bag, which she hadn’t because there was no need for such things here, and gathered herself up out of the chair. She made her way across the room and into Stella’s cozy office, closing the door behind her.

“Have a seat,” Stella said, offering a chair across from her desk. She sat behind the large wooden edifice, only her shoulders and head visible on the other side. She was a slight woman, with dark hair bobbed at her chin, and her white pant suit looked slightly large on her tiny frame. Helen might’ve been jealous if she weren’t past all that. She’d always been a larger woman with curves and hips and all that went along with it. Joe hadn’t minded one bit, calling her his voluptuous vixen, but Helen had always wished she could’ve been a bit more slender. None of that mattered now.

Stella opened a file. “This is your... eleven month visit, is that right? It’s been eleven months and two days since your passing?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Helen said politely. “Almost a year.”

“And how are you getting along?” Stella closed the folder, her hand tipping a glowing white paperweight, which fell over with a thud. She went to pick it up, dropped it again, and then managed to sit it on its base, tipping her pen holder over in the process. “Oh, dear.”

“Let me,” Helen insisted, standing and helping the AA put all of her white pens back into their white container. “There we are.” Helen smiled, smoothing her pants as she sat back down. “I’m getting along well. It’s lovely being back with my husband. My daughter, Ann, lives right down the street. I see my parents often, my older brother.... I’m doing well.”

“Good, good.” Stella placed her hands flat on top of the folder. “It’s nice to see you’ve made the adjustments necessary to fit in here. It can be jarring to some people, but you seem to have assimilated nicely.”

“Yes, I think I have,” Helen nodded. “There’s just one thing....” She hesitated, knowing Stella wouldn’t like what she had to say next. She’d asked about her family back on earth a few times before, and Stella had always insisted she wasn’t at liberty to discuss any of that. Still, she had to try.

“What is it?” Stella’s smile was tight, demonstrating she knew what Helen was about to say.

“Well, this is the time of year my family is the busiest. I owned a shop on the downtown square in my hometown, Christmas Falls. It was a quaint little place where people stopped by year round for trinkets and gifts, but during the Christmas holiday, it came to life with ornaments and special gifts. I ran it with my granddaughter, Memory. Such a sweet girl. She lived with me for a couple of years after college. We had the best time together.” She smiled fondly, thinking of Memory’s pretty face, all lit up by the Christmas tree lights. “I’m just wondering... this being our first Christmas apart, how is she doing? You can tell me, can’t you? Just that she’s doing all right? I’d hate to think she’s spending her favorite time of year moping around, missing me.”

Stella’s smile faded for a moment, her lips tightening into a thin line. “You know I’m not supposed to discuss such topics with you, Mrs. Graham.” The smile was back, but it had morphed so that it resembled a jack-o-lantern’s grin more than an angel’s.

“Yes, I know. But surely no one will mind just a quick update. I mean, really, how am I supposed to relax and enjoy the birthday celebrations coming up for the Big Guy’s son if I’m worried about Memory?”

“This is our most festive time of the year as well,” Stella agreed. “The angel choir is working on a new song right now. Whitney Houston will be singing a solo.”

“Lovely!” Helen said, giggling to punctuate her enthusiasm. “I would love to hear it. And I would love to know how my Memory is doing.” She tipped her forehead forward, her eyes wide, hoping Stella would see the desperation.

With a sigh, Stella shook her head. “I’m not supposed to do this,” she muttered. “But I suppose it won’t hurt. Just this once. You should know, however, if you have ambitions to be an AA someday, or otherwise serve the Big Guy, you’ll have to follow the rules.”

Helen nodded. “Oh, yes. I am a strict rule follower. Normally.”

Stella opened up a thin, white laptop and started typing, and Helen reflected on all of the other duties she’d heard of. She didn’t think she’d ever want to be an AA, but there were a few other jobs that interested her. She could’ve joined the angel chorus because she loved to sing, but even in Heaven, she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. Ann worked in the aviary, with the birds they sent down to comfort those who’d recently lost a loved one, and she seemed to enjoy that work, especially with the cardinals. But Helen was most intrigued by the Fixers, the group of angels who went back to earth to make corrections when something didn’t quite go as planned. There weren’t many positions available, but it seemed like an intriguing job, something Helen would be good at. She’d talked to Joe about it a few months ago. At the time, he’d said he didn’t know how he would do without her for any length of time, but as long as her mission was short, he’d love to see her off helping others. He had his gardening duties that he spent his free time attending to, along with a group of other angels who loved to care for the trees and plants that beautified their town. Occasionally, they’d plant a special tree or flower on earth as well, though Joe hadn’t been involved in that since he’d helped plant an evergreen outside of the home he’d shared with his wife, just a couple of years after he’d died. Helen hadn’t known where the tree had come from at the time, but now, she smiled, thinking of all the happy cardinals she’d seen flying about that tree over the years. She’d thought of him every time she looked out the window.

“Ah, here we go,” Stella said, bringing Helen’s mind back to the present. “Memory Wilson, age twenty-five, Christmas Falls, Indiana. Yes—you needn’t worry about her. She is just about to have a pivotal moment! A meet-cute! Ah, I love those.” Stella closed her laptop and smiled at Helen. “Don’t worry—Memory will be just fine. But I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you.”

“A meet-cute?” Helen echoed, trying to piece together what Stella was saying. “What’s that?”

“Oh, that’s what the kids are calling it these days. It’s when two people meet under funny or cute circumstances, and they share a laugh, and the next thing you know, they’re falling in love.” She sighed and her eyes glossed over as if she were thinking back to a meet-cute of her own. “I like to watch sometimes when I know one is coming up. It’s just so... romantic. Anyway, your Memory will be just fine, once Dakota Brooks enters her life, in just a couple of minutes.”

“Dakota Brooks?” Helen asked, wondering what he might be like. She thought she understood the meet-cute reference now, though why it needed a fancy name, she wasn’t sure. But she was curious about this Dakota. “I don’t think I know the gentleman.”

“No, no, you wouldn’t. He’s in Christmas Falls from Chicago—on business. He’s quite handsome and kind. He’s a hard worker, too. Don’t worry. Your Memory will have a lovely life with him.”