Angels Walking (39 page)

The ocean air helped him believe he was really here. He needed constant reminders.

When they reached the shore they took off their shoes and walked to the water. For a minute they stood there, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the ocean, holding onto the moment. Trying to believe it. Finally he felt her take a determined breath. “Mary Catherine says when a person starts to live for God, when he steps out of the box of rules and rehearsed ways of living, he becomes real.”

Tyler thought about that. “Hmmm. I like that.”

“She says she wouldn’t date a guy unless he was real.”

“Smart girl.” He turned to her and she looked at him. Again he took his time. He had only one thing he wanted to say, one thing that mattered. “Sami?” He still had hold of her hand. “Can I hug you?”

Her eyes shone prettier than the sunlight on the water. She whispered just one word, “Please.”

He took her in his good arm and held her with a desperate sort of longing. He wore a new brace—and would for another four weeks. But his shoulder didn’t hurt. They fit together like they were born to be this way.

After a while, they pulled back enough to see each other. “I got hired by the Dodgers. I’m going to help coach the pitchers.”

Her smile lit up her face. “That means you’re staying!”

“Yes.” Again he loved this about her. She wasn’t impressed that he’d be working for a pro baseball organization. Just that he would be here. Near her. “For a very long time.”

“That’s amazing.”

“It is.” He brushed her windblown hair off her cheek and allowed himself to fall into her eyes. “More than I could ask or imagine.”

“That’s how good God is.” She looked serious for a moment. “I never saw that when I was living with my grandparents. The God in their imagination was . . . so different.”

“Yes.” He was tempted to think about the time they’d lost, the months and seasons and years. The mistakes he had made along the way. “I’ll never be perfect.” His smile felt sad for the first time since she got out of her car. “I already tried.”

“I’ll trade perfect for something else.” She put her hand over his.

“What?”

She brushed her cheek against his, clearly as lost in his eyes as he was in hers. “Real. That’s all I want from you, Tyler. The man you are here, now. The real you.”

He let that settle into his soul. The sun was setting in the distance and it occurred to him that he’d finally caught up with it. He was finished chasing his happily ever after. He didn’t need to. She was standing right in front of him.

“So I’m real, is that it?” He loved this, that he could tease her, that this time they had so easily found their way back to yesterday.

“Definitely.” She grinned. “Very real.”

His heart felt light enough to fly them both out over the surf. “Would it be crazy if I kissed you?”

Her laugh danced in the breeze and mixed with the sound of the water around their ankles. “It’d be crazy if you didn’t.”

“Good.” His laughter faded and so did hers. There was no need to rush the moment. He’d waited six years for it. When he couldn’t wait another heartbeat he put his hand alongside her face and brought his lips to hers. The kiss was tentative at first, filled with a hope that still held its breath. But then fear and doubt and worry fell away and all that remained were the feelings between them. Feelings that already knew what their words had not yet declared.

They were home.

A bigger wave washed up and knocked Tyler to his knees. The jarring motion didn’t hurt his shoulder, but it dragged Sami to the sand beside him. They started to laugh and didn’t stop, not even after they helped each other up to their feet. Suddenly he remembered the tickets waiting for him at the player’s window at Dodger Stadium. His parents and Marcus’s were going to use four of them. He had definite hopes for the other two.

“Hey . . .” He wiped the saltwater from his face. “Wanna be my date tonight? Game six of the World Series?” He brushed wet sand off his jeans with his good arm.

“I look a little messy.” Sand stuck to her jeans as well. She kept laughing as she tried to clean herself up.

“That’s okay.” He looped his arm around her shoulders as they started back to the cars. “Perfect is overrated.”

Sami tilted her head back and laughed again. “So true.”

They left her car at Zuma and drove together to the stadium. Their seats were behind the Dodgers’ dugout, and already
his parents and Marcus’s were there. Not until Tyler and Sami were side by side in the seats did she lean close and whisper, “I like this better.”

“What?” He wanted to kiss her again, but he had a feeling there would be time. Forever, if he had it his way.

“You and me. Sitting together.” She grinned. “I’ve watched enough games by myself.”

He had never cared about her more. With his parents talking to Marcus’s parents, Tyler slid his fingers between Sami’s. He still wished he could’ve known Ben Hutcheson. A smile started in his heart. Someday he would. When they would have forever to talk about Virginia and families, love and baseball.

Life was short. Love needed to have its way while there was still time.

The Dodgers won the World Series that night, and as Marcus Dillinger pointed up after the winning pitch, Tyler was convinced that somewhere in heaven Virginia and her husband and their baseball-player son had a front-row seat. Not so much for the game.

But for the miracle.

Tyler remembered something from the day he blew out his shoulder. Something the first paramedic told him—Beck, the one who had later directed him to Merrill Place. His words at their first meeting came back to him. As they did, a sense of wonder filled Tyler’s soul and chills passed over him despite the warmth of the setting Los Angeles sun. Beck had been right after all. His injury wasn’t an end.

It was a beginning.

Tyler could hardly wait to see what happened next.

Epilogue

Town Meeting—The Next Mission

O
RLON CALLED THE MEETING
for two reasons: to celebrate the success of Ember and Beck’s mission. And to lay the groundwork for the next one—the one in which terrible things were about to happen.

His team of angels—all twenty of them—were huddled around Beck and Ember, hanging on every detail. Orlon smiled. They would need this time, this chance to revel in the greatness of God and the victories won. Joy to get them through the coming storm.

Orlon set his notes on the mahogany table at the front of the room. It was time to begin.

“Everyone sit down. Please.” His tone was kind. He liked seeing the angels laughing and swapping stories. But time was short. “Beck, Ember, come to the front of the room. We’d like a full report.”

Gradually the voices quieted and the angels found their seats. Beck and Ember moved to the front of the room and sat on two tall chairs facing Orlon and the others. They looked victorious, full of life, invigorated by the mission.

“First, welcome back.” Orlon smiled at them. “The rest of us stayed in constant prayer throughout your time on earth.” He leaned against a shining wall and folded his arms. “You experienced great success. Congratulations.” He looked at the others. “You all watched, front row, praying, calling out to our Father.”

Around the room the angels nodded, their attention keen.

Orlon picked up the piece of paper from the table. “Our Angels Walking team accomplished quite a list. Remember, ultimately we seek to protect a child who has not yet been born—Dallas Garner. The one who will be a very great teacher and turn hearts back to our Father. Because of the success of this mission, the eventual birth of this baby is still possible. For now, anyway.”

He rattled off a few of the highlights, then he smiled again at Beck and Ember. “Nice work on all that, by the way. Very creative.” He shook his head, still amazed. “I especially liked how you put the Dodgers game on in Virginia’s room.”

“That was Ember’s idea.” Beck patted her knee. “It was a last-minute victory.”

Around the room the other angels were wide-eyed, clearly impressed.

They rose to their feet clapping and shouting their enthusiasm to the Creator. Ember and Beck smiled, then joined in the applause, the praise to their Creator. He was the only true Source of victory for any of them.

When the celebration settled down, Orlon angled his
head, curious. This was the part only Beck and Ember could answer. “Were any humans aware?”

Ember took the lead this time. “As you saw, we interacted with a number of sons and daughters of Adam.” She looked at Beck. “Several times.”

Beck’s face was serious again. “There were curious moments for several of them—Tyler, Sami, Tyler’s parents. Even Marcus.” He exchanged a look with Ember. “But no one suspected angels.”

“Good.” Orlon set his notes down and faced the others. “It’s a delicate balance, team. Our Father wants humans to be aware of the spiritual battle for their souls. His word reminds them that every now and then a stranger might actually be an angel.”

Again a chorus of agreement came softly from those in the room.

“But we never want man to turn his worship toward us.” Orlon straightened himself. This was one of the aspects of the job Orlon was most passionate about. “We are messengers, helpers. We are never to be worshipped. If that happens—though we succeed at a task—we fail at pleasing our God.”

Beck looked relieved. “Our Father received credit for our work at every turn. Our Angels Walking mission went undetected.”

“Perfect.” Orlon searched the room. “We will need a different set of angels walking for the next mission. The stakes will be even higher.” He paused. “Life will be lost.”

As with all missions, Orlon did not know every detail. He took a settling breath. “Tragedy is about to strike in Los Angeles. When it does, the faith of our humans will be more than
tested. It will be shaken to the breaking point.” He paced the room, thoughtful. Michael had been very concerned about what was coming.

The angels nodded, some of them intimately aware of the truth.

“We act on behalf of the King of kings. The One come to bring life.” He paused. “Even in the face of death.” Orlon slowly studied each of the faces in the room. “Any questions?”

Jag sat in the front row. He was blond and fierce, a warrior angel accustomed to battle. He raised his hand.

“Jag?” Orlon pointed to him.

“Is there a chance . . . we could lose one of them? Will the battle be drawn out?”

Orlon didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”

Jag nodded slowly. He had suffered much in his last Angels Walking mission. His story was legend. As a result, he had been moved to this team. In many ways, Jag was the most diversely skilled angel in the room.

“Anyone else?” Orlon waited. “Okay, then. We will meet again tomorrow and choose the next team.”

Long after the other angels had dispersed, Orlon remained. He would stay here praying until tomorrow’s meeting. Every angel had his or her strength. But he had to choose just the right pair of Angels Walking this time around.

The real battle was about to begin.

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