Page 36 of When the Angel Falls First

“I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead,” she scoffed.

“Nana!”

“I know you don’t like it when I talk that way, but that’s why I’m living it up in the meantime.”

Sometimes, Nana’s humor was a kick to the gut. “So, did you love the party?” I asked, settling into the plush reading chair. I could open the shop a couple minutes late. There was no one at the door.

“Oh, it was just delightful, dear. You wouldn’t believe the shenanigans we got up to after you young’uns left. Why, Mabel and I whipped out our dancing shoes and cut the rug until the wee hours, singing at the top of our lungs. And we just might have wrapped the neighbor’s fir tree with toilet paper. I haven’t done that in at least ten years! What a thrill!”

“Nana!” I exclaimed, both scandalized and amused. She was never going to change, and thank goodness for that.

Nana’s hearty laughter rang through the tablet again, her eyes filled with feigned innocence. “What? I’m just a harmless old lady having fun,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes in pretend bashfulness, her eccentric hat bobbing with the movement. I couldn’t help but join in her laughter, the image of Nana and her geriatric crew partying into the early hours of the morning bringing a much-needed lightness to the emotionally heavy start of my day.

“And you? Recovered yet?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with her signature mischief. “And you know I mean recovered from that history-making kiss from your beau.”

“Oh, that.” I waved my hand. “It was nothing.”

Nana sighed and tensed her lips, her tone turning serious. “It wasn’t nothing. And we need to talk about this.” Her eyes were still twinkling, but it was as if they held secrets now, secrets that were waiting to break free. “It’s time you knew. It matters now.”

I blinked at her sudden change, my smile faltering. “Knew what, Nana?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

Nana wasn’t one for secrets, or so I’d thought.

She leaned toward the camera, the brim of her sunflower hat falling out of view. There was an excitement there, a mischievous glint that hinted at tales of yore and adventures untold. It was a look that I’d seen in my customers’ eyes when they picked up a book they couldn’t wait to dive into.

“Once upon a time,” she began, a playful grin breaking across her face. “When I was about your age, a little older maybe, I met someone.” She held my gaze, her eyes intense.

I leaned in closer, curiosity piqued. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who was it?”

She held up a hand, wagging her finger at me. “Nuh-uh. Patience, dear. I’m getting to that. This wasn’t an ordinary someone. This person… couldn’t even truly be called that.” She paused dramatically, her eyes gleaming with excitement. I had a sense that whatever she was about to reveal was something big.

“Couldn’t be called a person?” I asked, now genuinely intrigued. The store opening could wait.

“He was celestial,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Did she just say what I think she said?

“Celestial?” I echoed, my voice catching in my throat. I waited for her to break into laughter, to tell me she was just pulling my leg, but she remained serious. She nodded solemnly. “Yes, celestial, dear. Not too unlike the ‘fictional’ characters you’re so fond of in your books.”

I stared at her, unblinking. Was Nana suggesting that she’d experienced something like what I’d experienced? No, she couldn’t be.

But the knowing look in her eyes told a different story. I felt the color drain from my face as I grappled with the implicationsof her revelation. My mind spun, questions ricocheting around my head.

Nana met an angel? Does she know what Caleb is?

“I know, dear. It’s a lot to take in,” she said softly, a hint of compassion in her eyes. “But it’s true. And now that you’ve met one too, I thought it was high time I shared this with you.”

The way she said “met one too” with such nonchalance, as if meeting celestial beings was as normal as running into an old friend at the grocery store, made my head spin.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I had so many questions. I needed answers. And it seemed like Nana was the only one who could provide them.

“You know about Caleb…” I began, my voice barely a whisper.

Nana just smiled, her eyes filled with understanding and maybe… relief?

“Indeed, dear,” she murmured. “Indeed.”

We sat like that, looking at each other and not knowing what to say, until there was a knock at the bookshop door.

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