Heather Graham by Angel's Touch Page A

beginning to appear. His cheeks were just beginning to sag a bit, and his flesh was acquiring a ruddy tinge. He needed a shave. He smiled at the fat man buying him a drink.
    “Thanks, Harry,” O’Connor told the fat man.
    “Whatcha doing out on Christmas Eve, a married fellow like you?” the fat man asked.
    Jimmy shrugged. He lifted the shot glass of whiskey before him to salute the fat man, swallowed it down. “Just stopped by for a quick one. And to give Angela her Christmas tip.”
    Angela was a dancer. Very busty …
    “Limber,” Cathy commented to Don as Angela dipped the lower portion of her body toward Jimmy, who slipped a bill into the very thin strip of elastic still holding a feather in a strategic location.
    Don lost what Jimmy was saying next because Cathy added, “She really is a very good dancer. I always wished I could do that.”
    “Dance with a pole?”
    She smiled. “Dance … sexily like that. Don’t you remember Jamie Lee Curtis in True Lies ? She was spectacular. I didn’t want to have to dance with a pole for a living or anything—I would just have liked to have been that sexy for you.”
    “You were sexy as sexy could be.”
    “Not that sexy.”
    “The sexiest.”
    “Really? You’re not just saying that? I was your wife, you know,” Cathy said skeptically.
    “To me, you were the sexiest creature alive.”
    “We did have a good life, didn’t we?” Cathy asked.
    “We did.” he said. And I realized it far too late , he thought, but he didn’t say so out loud.
    “He’s heading for the John,” Cathy said suddenly.
    “Who?”
    “Jimmy O’Connor! Your miracle boy.”
    “So what? You want me to follow him?”
    “Of course. You have to keep an eye on him. Maybe you can help in there.”
    “Help him what? Pee?” Don demanded.
    She shook her head. “Power of suggestion. Go play on his mind.”
    “Cathy—”
    “Do you want me to go?” she demanded.
    Don swore. Cathy kicked him. He stared at her, shaking his head. “I’m a dead man in a strip joint on Christmas Eve, and you want me to watch my language?”
    “Just go!” she commanded.

Chapter 5
    W ITH DON GONE, CATHY drummed her fingers on the table. Christmas Eve, she thought, was slipping away. She drew out their list again and read about her own first “Christmas Miracle.” She needed to find a homeless woman named Maggie St. Johns.
    Boston was a big city. And, unfortunately, there were far too many homeless people in it.
    Lots of drunks, too, but they’d found Jimmy O’Connor easily enough. She drummed her fingers. She didn’t dare call on Gabriel for her first miracle. She drew out the little instruction book and turned to page one and read, “Always look for the obvious. Always make good use of coincidence; remember that the right set of coincidences can be miracles all on their own.”
    Look to the obvious…
    She glanced toward the men’s room, then slipped from her bar stool and hurried toward the front door of the pub. She thought she bumped into a man, but he didn’t notice; he walked right by. She bit into her lower lip, realizing that he had walked right through her.
    She was dead. Really dead.
    The thought made her want to cry; they’d had so much more left to do! It didn’t matter, she realized. She had tonight. Tonight to make sure that she and Don could stay together throughout eternity. How strange! She’d been so lucky; she’d always loved her husband. Now, when he was groping a bit to deal with this, she loved him all the more. She’d always been a fighter, and now she was fighting for all eternity.
    She stood outside in the dusting snow, looking both ways, up and down the street. The night was growing quiet, but she thought she saw movement way down the street. She stood very still, watching. Someone bundled up in a threadbare coat was tentatively checking out the garbage behind a donut shop. There seemed to be nothing there.
    The badly dressed woman started walking again. Very quickly,