Bailey (Angel Institute #3)

Chapter 6

Six

GLADYS

T he twinkling lights of Benton Falls’ town square shimmer before me, a kaleidoscope of colors against the velvety night sky. I need to connect with Bailey on a deeper, more personal level if she’s going to trust me. The state of my girl’s heart is so sad, mean, she doesn’t even trust an angel.

Christmas is rapidly approaching, and I’m acutely aware of the ticking clock. My first assignment as a guardian angel in training, and I’m starting to worry I might fail before I’ve even properly begun.

I fidget with the hem of my sweater. I can’t bring myself to put on one of the heavy coats I see people wearing. I think it would smother me. I round the clock tower and find Bailey staring up at it, a contemplative look on her face. She is a beauty, with her long dark hair and big eyes.

She notices me coming and walks toward me.

“Gladys?” Bailey calls out as she approaches, her voice hesitant.

It is dark and late at night. I’m sure she doesn’t want to meet up with a stranger out here. “Yes?” I respond. “It’s me.”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable with what she’s about to say. “I was just wondering... do you have a place to stay?”

“Like a place to stay on Earth?” I ask, buying myself a moment to think about what this means.

Bailey nods slowly, her hazel eyes searching my face.

I take a deep breath and decide that honesty is the best policy. “I don’t have accommodations at the moment,” I admit. I can’t lie, it’s against the angel code. Plus, lies are dark and sticky, and they attract other lies. I don’t like them.

Bailey’s expression softens, and I sense a wave of compassion emanating from her. It’s a beautiful feeling, warm and comforting.

“Well,” she says, the words coming out in a rush, “if you need a place to crash, you could stay on my couch. Just for tonight, I mean. If you want. It’s cold out there.”

I’m momentarily stunned. This is unexpected, to say the least. Bailey, who’s been so guarded and prickly, is offering me a place in her home? I would never have thought she’d be open to that.

It’s also more than just a kind gesture—it’s a chance to get closer to her, to understand her better, and to find a way to serve her.

“Are you sure?” I ask, giving her an opportunity to back out. I can’t mess with free will; this has to be her decision.

Bailey nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s cold out, and... well, no one should be alone at Christmas, right?”

My heart swells with joy at her words. This is progress, real progress. A cactus with a heart. “That’s very kind of you, Bailey. Thank you. I’d be happy to accept.”

As we walk to Bailey’s apartment, I can’t help but marvel at the way things are unfolding. Henry always says that God works in mysterious ways, and I’m starting to better understand what he means.

Bailey’s apartment comes into view, a charming old structure with the Pampered Pooch Pantry on the ground floor. The lights above the shop are on, and there’s a Christmas tree in the window. We walk up the stairs and to a landing where she fishes her keys out of her pocket.

“It’s not much,” Bailey says as she unlocks the door to her apartment, “and it’s a bit of a mess with all the contest preparations.”

As we step inside, I’m enveloped by warmth and the unmistakable scent of creativity, a mix of paint, fabric, and glue. The space is indeed cluttered, but in the most fascinating way. Every surface seems to be covered with sketches, fabric swatches, and half-finished decorations. It’s as if Bailey’s imagination has exploded outward, filling every nook and cranny with potential and possibility.

“I think it’s wonderful,” I say, unable to keep the awe from my voice. “Your creativity is truly remarkable, Bailey.”

She blushes slightly at the compliment, ducking her head. “Thanks. Um, make yourself at home. I’ll get some blankets for the couch.”

As Bailey disappears into what I assume is her bedroom, I take the opportunity to look around more closely. The living room is dominated by a large work table covered in sketches and materials for her contest entry. I finger a dull lime green swatch that’s laid next to a sparkling raspberry-colored one.

Bailey returns with an armful of blankets and a pillow. “Here you go,” she says, arranging them on the couch. “It’s not the Ritz, but it should be comfortable enough for a night.”

I’m touched by her thoughtfulness. Despite her gruff exterior, there’s a genuine kindness to Bailey. “It’s perfect,” I assure her. “Thank you again for your hospitality.”

She shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with the gratitude. “It’s no big deal. The bathroom’s down the hall if you need it. I’m going to turn in; got a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

“Of course,” I nod. “Goodnight. And truly, thank you.”

“Night, Gladys.” She gives me a small smile before retreating to her bedroom.

I settle onto the couch, arranging the blankets around me as if I intend to sleep. The sounds of Bailey getting ready for bed filter through the thin walls, water running, drawers opening and closing, and the soft pad of footsteps. I wait, listening intently, until I hear her breathing even out into the steady rhythm of sleep.

Once I’m certain Bailey is deep in slumber, I carefully extract myself from the blankets. It’s time to return to heaven. I want to check in with Henry. With one last glance around the apartment, I focus my energy and I’m off.

The air here is different—cleaner, purer, filled with the faint sound of distant choirs and the gentle rustle of wings.

I make my way to Henry’s office, my footsteps echoing softly in the vast, shimmering hallways. I love this campus. There’s a spirit of learning and wisdom that raises me higher than I thought I could be. The door to his office stands open, warm light spilling out invitingly. I take a deep breath.

“Ah, Gladys,” Henry’s voice greets me before I even step through the doorway. He’s seated behind his imposing desk, a kind smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He has several clocks around the room and one of them is open on the side table, its gears spilling out and tiny tools laid just so to the right. “Come in, come in. How goes your assignment?”

I enter the office, immediately comforted by its familiar warmth. The scent of old books fills the air. I sink into one of the plush chairs across from Henry’s desk, trying to organize my thoughts.

“Well,” I begin, “I think I’m making progress with Bailey. She’s starting to open up, even invited me to stay at her apartment tonight. But...”

Henry leans forward, his blue eyes twinkling with interest behind his thin glasses. “But?”

I sigh, the frustration I’ve been feeling bubbling to the surface. “But it’s so slow, Henry! And I’m not even sure if it will stick. She’s changing her mind about one person—me!—when I need her to understand harmony with everyone. I don’t have time to do this person-by-person in Benton Falls, let alone the world.”

The words tumble out in a rush, and I feel a twinge of guilt at my impatience. Isn’t patience supposed to be a virtue, especially for angels?

“You know,” I continue, unable to stop now that I’ve started, “it’s so much easier on the Blessing Hotline. I can take care of things quickly and then move on to the next case. This... this is like trying to melt a glacier with a matchstick.”

Henry listens to my outburst with a patient smile, nodding understandingly. When I finally run out of steam, he leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers.

“Gladys,” he says, his voice gentle but firm, “do you remember what I told you when you first started your training?”

I rack my brain, trying to recall the specific piece of wisdom he’s referring to. “That... every soul is precious in God’s eyes?”

Henry nods. “Yes, that’s true. But I was thinking of something else. Do you remember what I said about porcupines?”

The memory clicks into place, and I can’t help but smile. “You said that God loves porcupines too.”

“Exactly,” Henry beams. “Now, why do you think I told you that?”

I consider the question, thinking about Bailey and her prickly exterior. “Because... even the most difficult people are worthy of love and patience?”

“That’s part of it,” Henry agrees. “But it’s also a reminder that sometimes, the souls that need the most love are the ones that make it hardest to get close to them. Bailey is like a porcupine, Gladys. She’s built up her quills to protect herself from hurt, but in doing so, she’s also keeping out love and connection.”

I nod, understanding dawning. I’ve been calling her a cactus, and now Henry says she’s a porcupine. All I’m getting from this conversation is pricked. “So what does that mean, as far as my assignment goes?”

Henry’s eyes twinkle. “A porcupine lowers its quills when it feels safe. If Bailey can feel safe with you, and then another person, and then another, she’ll trust herself more. That could be the ticket to this whole thing.”

His words resonate deeply, and I feel a renewed sense of purpose. “I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I admit. “I’ve been so focused on the big picture, I forgot that small changes in direction can plot a new course.”

“That’s the spirit,” Henry encourages. “Give your assignment room to grow, Gladys. Trust in the process.”

I stand, feeling reinvigorated. “Thank you, Henry. I needed that reminder.”

He rises as well. “Keep up the good work, and remember, God’s timing is perfect, even when it feels slow to us.”

My eyes fall to the clock he’s building. One cog at a time, I tell myself.

As I’m leaving, Celeste hurries up to me. “Gladys, I’m so glad you’re here. Can you cover my shift? I have a test and I need more time to study.”

I nod. It’ll mean not being there when Bailey wakes up. But how can I say no? I remember my first few tests in guardian angel training classes. They are tough. “I’ll head over there right now.”

“Thank you so much!” Celeste hurries off in the direction of the library.

I second guess my willingness to take over for her. I should be on Earth right now, –the pull to help Bailey is strong. But doing good for others always pays off, right?

With a nod to myself, I hurry off to the call center.