Another Angel of Love Read online

  “Bill, Mary, Henry,” he said, looking at each of them in turn. “Next spring when I leave my store and home—”

  “Yeah?” Henry blurted, barely hanging on to the edge of his seat.

  “I will be going to Gravelbourg. It’s a small community about 250 miles from here.”

  “But why do you have to go away?” Henry’s voice was steeped with disappointment.

  Mr. Engelmann looked at his young friend reassuringly and put a hand on Henry’s.

  “There is a seminary there,” Mr. Engelmann’s voice rose, unable to contain or control his excitement any longer. The words of his music had reached a crescendo and had to be sung gloriously. “I…I am going to become a priest!”

  They were all stunned. They stared at him, transfixed, mouths open. Then gradually, as if awakening from a coma, one by one they nodded their heads. Henry and Mary jumped up and smothered him with hugs. In the excitement, Mr. Engelmann’s piece of lemon pie landed across Bill’s nose and cheek.

  They all laughed. Mary used the napkin beside her plate to wipe the pie from her husband’s face. After settling down, David told them how he’d come to his decision.

  “It came to mind last Sunday when I was here for dinner and we were talking about what I might do,” David said.

  “Yeah, I remember,” Henry said, adding, “You wouldn’t tell us anything.”

  David smiled, “Yes, well, that’s because I wasn’t sure myself. This past week, I went to see Father Connelly and talked with him about it. He thought it was a wonderful idea. He spoke with the archbishop, who told him he wanted to meet with me. Thursday afternoon was my meeting with the bishop. You may recall I was away for over two hours. He already knew a lot about me from Father Connelly, and had heard about Anna’s funeral and said that I might be a little ahead of my time. In the end, he said they would send me to Gravelbourg for two years. When I finish, they will place me in St. Mary’s Church as an assistant to Father Connelly until such time as I am ready to have my own parish.”

  “You’ll be a wonderful priest,” Mary said sincerely.

  “Yeah,” Henry said. “You’ll be great. There’s only one problem, though.”

  Everyone looked at him.

  “What is it?” Mr. Engelmann asked.

  “You’re gonna have to give up your favourite vest for a black robe.”

  David looked down on his old red, blue and grey checkered vest, and they all laughed again.

  Once the laughter died away, David pushed himself from his chair. “Thank you so much for that wonderful dinner, Mary. You truly are an excellent cook. You are all so dear to me. You have no idea what it has meant to be part of your family. I love you all very much.”

  “And we love you too, David,” Mary quickly responded.

  Bill and Henry smiled in agreement.

  Mr. Engelmann got up and made his way to the front door.

  “Would you like a piece of lemon pie to take home?”

  “No, Mary, thank you very much anyway.”

  “How about a drive home in the van, David?” asked Bill.

  “Oh no, that’s fine. I need the fresh air and a little exercise to work off this wonderful meal. The sky was clear when I came, so the moon and stars should be out. I like to think of my Anna beside me as we stroll under the heavens. It’s hard to give up the romance of one’s life, no matter how old you are,” he said, winking at all of them.

  Just before the door closed behind him, Henry called out, “Good night, Father Engelmann!”

  David turned and smiled.

  The next morning, the phone rang at eight-thirty.

  “Good morning, Engelmann’s Grocery.”

  “Mr. Engelmann? It’s Joseph Dance. I’m a lawyer with Travis McKechan. Mom phoned and said you were looking for some advice, and that I was to get right on it or there’d be no apple pie on Sunday when I came for dinner,” he said, chuckling.

  Mr. Engelmann laughed too. “Pie or no, thank you, Joseph, for calling so quickly.”

  “Well, you and your wife have done a lot for the people who come to your store. Our family has talked a lot about the difference you’ve made to the neighbourhood.”

  “That’s very nice to hear.”

  “Mom said you have some legal concerns. What can I do for you?”

  “I would like to sell my store…and I think I have a buyer. A Mr. Webster came in last week; though he didn’t say it in so many words, I think he might represent Safeway. There’s one down the street. I suspect they want to buy me out.”

  “Did you settle on a price yet?”

  “No, he just came in and said the company he represented was interested.”

  “I see,” said Mr. Dance. “Unfortunately, Mr. Engelmann, I’m a litigator, not a real estate lawyer. If you’re ever in trouble and have to go to court, I’m your man. But with mortgages, land title transfers, deeds and business sales, you need someone else. The good news is I know just the man who can help you. Johnny Balfour is an amazing man and one of the best negotiators I know. If anyone can get the deal done for you, it’s him.”

  “I would appreciate it. How much do I owe you for your trouble?”

  “Oh, there’s no charge. You’ve both been so good to my parents over the years, especially your wife. She was a very close friend of my mother’s. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Oh no, I will pay,” Mr. Engelmann insisted. “You are a busy man, I can’t accept—”

  “No, that’s fine,” Mr. Dance reiterated, with a tone of finality. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

  Twenty minutes later the phone rang again. This time it was Johnny Balfour. After chatting briefly about Johnny’s aunt and uncle who used to frequent the store, they got down to business.

  “Joseph mentioned that this Mr. Webster approached you about purchasing your business on behalf of another company, is that correct?”

  “Yes, yes, that is so. Mr. Webster never mentioned who he was representing, but I think it is Safeway since I am their biggest competitor in this community.”

  “I’ll find out. Should only take a phone call or two. What do you think your business is worth?”

  “Well, I didn’t pay very much for it in 1944, but we have made improvements to the property and in the last three years, with the help of a very good employee, the business has improved immensely and has become very profitable. I also own the empty lot beside the store, which could be used for expansion.”

  “I see,” said Mr. Balfour, “then what do you think you might want for the business?”

  “Well, I’ve had a look through the financial statements and think it might be worth $40,000.”

  “Okay. What about good will?”

  “What do you mean ‘good will’? Do you mean how good I was to the people?”

  “That has something to do with it. It means how much you have added to the business because of the service you provided.”

  “I think that’s in the price I quoted to you.”

  “All right, we’ll see,” the lawyer replied.

  There was silence for a few moments except for a rustling of papers on Mr. Balfour’s end.

  “Would you be agreeable to me looking after the negotiations with Mr. Webster? I assure you I won’t let your business go for anything less than the figure you mentioned. In fact, I’ll do what I can to try to get more. According to Joseph, the entire neighbourhood community are very loyal customers; you’re likely doing significant damage to Safeway’s bottom line.”

  “That may be so. And so I think they are trying to buy me out,” Mr. Engelmann agreed.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to meet with you, but if you’ll allow, I’ll put together a few people who can help assess your business’s worth. All you need to do is ask Mr. Webster if he is prepared to meet with us at my office on…” more rustling o
f pages “…October 4, at eleven a.m.”

  “Yes, that would be fine. And where do we come to?”

  “We’re downtown on Scarth Street, across from Victoria Park, south of 12th Avenue,” he said, giving him the address.

  Mr. Engelmann jotted down the details and repeated it back.

  “That’s it. I’ll see you, then—and don’t worry about a thing, Mr. Engelmann. Leave it all up to me.”

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Balfour. How can I repay you?”

  “Don’t worry about that, either. There’s no charge. It’s all being looked after.”

  Mr. Engelmann was startled into momentary silence. He hadn’t expected this. “B-but, by whom, Mr. Balfour?” he wondered aloud.

  Mr. Balfour’s smile was audible. “Think of it as a small acknowledgement for all you and your wife have done for the neighbourhood. I really must go now. I’ll see you at my office on the fourth unless I hear from you otherwise.”

  He was dumbfounded by this good fortune—to think one phone call from behind his meat counter had brought instant results with such far-reaching consequences. One call from an east-end mother had set a network into motion that would gather together a very impressive team of professional people.

  At the end of the month, Mr. Webster stepped through the door exactly when he’d said he would.

  “Good morning, Mr. Engelmann. How are you today?”

  “I am fine, Mr. Webster. And a good morning to you.”

  “Have you given any further thought to the matter of selling your store?”

  “Yes, yes, as a matter of fact I have. I discussed the matter with my lawyer,” Mr. Engelmann said, looking at the other man over his dark-rimmed glasses, more confident in dealing with Mr. Webster now that he had professional representation.

  “That’s good,” Mr. Webster said. “And what were his suggestions?”

  “He wants you to meet with us on October 4, if that’s suitable.” Mr. Engelmann fished a piece of paper out from under the drawer under the cash register and showed him the details.

  “And your lawyer is…?” asked Mr. Webster.

  “Johnny Balfour.”

  Mr. Webster’s face paled, although he did his best to cover his reaction with a nervous grin. “My client’s lawyer and I will be there,” he agreed. “Have you settled on a selling price?”

  “Yes, I have,” Mr. Engelmann nodded.

  “And, what did you decide?”

  The phone rang.

  “Excuse me just a moment, please. Engelmann’s Grocery.”

  “Johnny Balfour here, Mr. Engelmann. Is Mr. Webster there yet?” the lawyer wanted to know.

  “Yes, Mr. Webster is right here. He has agreed to meet with us at your office.”

  “That’s good. Look, Mr. Engelmann, if he asks, don’t tell him what you want for your business,” Mr. Balfour said.

  “Oh?” said Mr. Engelmann meeting Mr. Webster’s gaze across the counter. “We were just discussing that—”

  “Did you name a price?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, don’t. Please let me handle that for you. That’s why I called. We’ll talk about that at our meeting. Until then, please don’t mention any dollar figures. You can tell him that I am handling all the business valuation on your behalf. All right?”

  “Yes, yes, of course, if that is what you wish.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll see you on the fourth of October at eleven.”

  “We will be there, Mr. Balfour. Goodbye.”

  Mr. Engelmann hung up and turned back to Mr. Webster, unsure quite how to broach things now. .

  “You were about to tell me the sales figure you’d arrived at,” he prompted.

  “Yes, yes, I was. But on the advice of my lawyer, I would like to keep that information to myself until we meet with him.”

  Mr. Webster stared at him, and David suddenly understood he had just foiled some of the man’s plans.

  “I see,” he said.

  “Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Webster,” David said, injecting his voice with a confidence that was becoming more firm. “I will see you in a few weeks. I’m sure you can wait until then.”

  “Absolutely, sir,” he said, a hint of desperation in his tone.

  David had the distinct impression that Mr. Webster was not pleased with how the visit had ended.

  “Good day to you, Mr. Engelmann.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hello? Just a moment please…Jenny? It’s for you, I think it’s Tammy.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I was just going to my room—I’ll get it up there, okay?”

  Jenny dashed up stairs to her room and grabbed the extension, calling out, “Got it Mom, thanks—you can hang up,” then spoke into the phone, “Hi, Tammy, is that you?”

  “It’s me. Jenny…oh, Jenny, I’m so nervous and afraid. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “What’s wrong, Tammy—is everything okay with the baby?”

  “Yes, but my mom and Robbie are insisting that I have an abortion! Our family doctor refuses to do it and he’s concerned that the fetus might be close to three months already.”

  “What do you want to do, Tammy?”

  “Oh, Jen! To be honest with you, I’m just so confused. Mom says I’m too young and that this will interfere with my education and—and that it’s my body and I have the right to make my own decision. And Robbie feels the same way; he’s worried about his scholarship and says that getting rid of the baby would solve everything…”

  “But Tammy, you still haven’t said what you really want to do. Have you thought about adoption? There are lots of married people out there who can’t have children and desperately want a baby.”

  “I know, but just the thought of walking down the hallway at school with a big tummy scares me to death. Can you imagine what everyone would say? And I know Robbie would be embarrassed beyond belief. I’m—I’m afraid he’ll leave me if I don’t do it.” Tammy started to cry and Jenny listened, heartsore, unsure what to say to her friend. She knew what she would do, she would keep the baby for sure, but Tammy needed to make up her own mind.

  Just as Jenny was about to speak, Tammy blurted, “Mom’s been on the phone for the last two days trying to track down someone who will perform the abortion. She’s talked to three midwives already. There’s one in Toronto who will do it, but I don’t know Jenny. I’ve heard there was one woman who started to hemorrhage and the midwife couldn’t stop it. She was rushed to the hospital and the doctor on duty refused to treat her since he didn’t want to be responsible for her death or any complications and she almost did die from an infection afterwards.”

  “If that’s your choice, it would be best if it were done in a hospital,” Jenny said quickly, “And by a doctor.”

  “Well, Mom wants to get a doctor too. She’s been trying to reach this doctor in Montreal who has apparently been doing a lot of abortions, he feels it’s a woman’s right.”

  Jenny wondered how someone who took an oath to save lives could be such a strong advocate of destroying them.

  “Gosh, I don’t know, Tammy. Do you really think it’s our right to…” Jenny didn’t want to say kill, “well, you know, get rid of a baby.”

  “See, that’s why I’m so confused, everyone says something different! Even my dad isn’t sure. He says maybe it’s best to keep it and give it up for adoption. I was surprised he said that, but he’s worried about the whole procedure—that I might not be able to have children after or regret doing it.”

  “Listen, Tammy, I think you need some time to think this through. Why don’t you come over on Friday night and spend the weekend with us? The grounds are so beautiful; the leaves are changing colour and it’s so peaceful—you can sit in the gazebo and think about this away from all the pressure.”

  “I’d like that, Jenny. I h
ope there’s time, everyone is worried about how old the baby is, and the sooner it’s done the better. But yes, I’ll come over tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, Tammy, you’re my best friend and I really care about you—I’m keeping you in my thoughts and prayers every second. I know you’ll decide what’s best for you and your baby. And you know,” Jenny added, “I could call the social worker who helped me sort things out with Camilla—I’m sure she’d talk to you about it.”

  “Yes, okay. Maybe that’d help,” Tammy said, and Jenny could tell she was crying. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow night.”

  “All right, Tammy. See if you can get some sleep—and try not to worry. Things will work out, I just know it.”

  As soon as Jenny hung up she went over to her bedside and knelt down. Oh, dear Jesus, please help Tammy do the right thing. She’s so confused and troubled. I know what she’s going through. Please help Robbie to accept his responsibility and if he won’t, dear Jesus, if you help Tammy decide to keep her child, I promise I’ll help her look after it. Thank you for the guardian angel who has helped me so much, and let Tammy’s angel help her feel the comfort of Your heavenly love, too.

  Tears came to Jenny’s eyes and she lay her head on the bed.

  The phone rang. Jenny picked up the extension to find her mother had already answered. Tammy was asking for her.

  “I’m on the phone, Mom, I’ve got it.”

  The receiver clicked as Jenny’s mom hung up downstairs.

  “Hey, Tammy, is everything all right?.”

  “Mom says I can’t come over tomorrow night and she doesn’t want me talking to you anymore right now.”

  There was a long silence between the two friends and then Tammy spoke again. “Mom got ahold of that doctor in Montreal. She’s made an appointment for me to see him Monday morning. She’s already called the airline and booked tickets. We leave at seven on Sunday night. Oh, Jenny, I’m so scared! I really wish you could come with me!”