The Devil and Danielle Webster by Cynthia Cross Page B

ridiculous is worth a
moment’s giggle.  “Thanks, Miss Webster,” she said sweetly.
    They left again.
    They were back in another 30 seconds. 
    Daemon Lucifer waved a paper under my nose.  “Is this
her mom’s signature?  She got it too fast—I think she forged it. 
Does it look like Angel’s signature to you?”
    I saw a physician-worthy scribble on the signature
line.  “It could be her mom’s,” I said uncertainly.  I was feeling
bad for her mom.  Then on the date line, I saw in large childish print:
“p. 6.”
    “Angel, you wrote your mom’s signature on here, didn’t you?”
I asked.
    She opened her eyes wide again, and then opened her mouth—
    “--You put ‘period 6’ here for the date,” I explained before
she could lie.  Your mom wouldn’t have done that.”
    “Mom lets me sign things from school all the time,” she
argued.  “She won’t care.”
    I shook my head at the Devil.  “Mr., er , Satin,” I said.  “You should deal directly with
the parents.”
    He sighed.  “Damn kids.”  Turning to Angel, he
said, “Third time’s the charm.  Come on, brat.”
    “Bye, Miss Webster!”
    They were gone.  This time they stayed gone.
    “What was THAT all about?” Tina asked. 
    “I honestly don’t think we want to know,” I said. 
    “I took a class on the Mormons, once,” Doug said. 
“They have an unusual way of looking at the Devil.  He’s the brother of—“
    “Doug, never mind,” I said.  “Honestly.  We’re all
sleep-deprived and this whole situation is surreal enough.”
    “Second that,” said Patty.  “Check your texts.”
    I picked up my phone just as a call came through.  I
must have missed it the first three go-rounds because the phone was
silenced.  It was Josh.
    “What are you doing calling?”
    “Sorry, I’m working graveyard shift.  I thought you’d
be up getting ready to drive back home.”
    “Well, I am up,” I admitted.  “What do you need?”
    “When are you picking up the kids?” Josh wanted to
know.  “I should tell you, Mike has been inviting a bunch of his friends
over to your house this afternoon.”
    “Today?   Why on earth today?”
    “He says he wants to have a surprise birthday party for his
girlfriend.”
    “A birthday party?   Today?   If that isn’t Mike all over.  It’ll have
to be at your house.  I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”
    “Danielle, Leann and I just can’t do that—“
    Yeah, I could have guessed.  “Josh, you’re lame. 
You never want to do anything you haven’t planned three months ago.  I
don’t understand how your son can be so completely opposite.”
    “Probably because he takes after his mother,” Josh fired
back.  “It was one of the most frustrating things about you.  You
could never make plans in advance!”
    “You were the problem.  You run your life like it’s boot camp, and expect everyone else to do the same.”
    “Life would be a lot simpler if it were run like boot
camp.  Leann and I both feel being organized is important.”
    “That’s great, but really, Josh, if you haven’t figured it
out yet, life isn’t simple, especially once you have kids.  Have you ever
heard the quote, ‘Life is what happens while you were busy making other
plans’?” 
    Daemon Lucifer was back.  “Do you need some help?” he
asked.
    “With Josh?   Always,” I
blurted without thinking.

Chapter
8 – The Party of No
     
     
    The next instant, Josh, dressed in his tan corrections
officer uniform, stood before us.
    “Oh, God,” Patty uttered.
    “Hush,” I whispered.  “He’s so annoying that the Devil
may just let us all go, just to get away from him.”
    “Danielle, you can’t do this,” Josh said angrily.  “I’m
supposed to be watching fifty prisoners right now.  If they decide to
cause problems, this will all be your fault.”
    “I didn’t do it,” I said.  “This guy did, do you know
him?”
    “Oh, hey, Mr. Santana, I didn’t even see