Heavenly Lover (28 page)

Chapter 40

Claire walked with Father down the path from the reception hall. He kept his arm around her but was silent except for the methodical crunching of his feet on the diamond dust pathway. She clung to the side of him, hiding as much of herself as she could, leaning into him for support. Several angels stopped what they were doing, but did not venture to come close or look into her eyes. This was not the usual type of homecoming. Claire knew the word had spread, the way it always did. The profusion of flower petals, cherub choirs and hugs after a successful venture—the closest thing to a ticker-tape parade in Heaven—would not be today’s welcome. With her face still streaked with tears, her dress disheveled, she honestly didn’t know when she’d be able to stand straight, stop crying, and look back at them.

Someday.

Claire had forever to perfect closing down her emotions, but her heart wasn’t into making the adjustment any time soon. Maybe now the other angels would leave her alone.

Father didn’t let go of her as they passed by her dorm. Dark green ivy clung fiercely to the stone walls. A group of young angels were reading on a bright green lawn and a couple of them tittered, which caused Father to stop and frown at them until they bowed and scurried into the dorm like a flock of birds. They passed a group of three angels gardening, their white gowns tied between their legs, making them look like they wore huge diapers. As they stood up to stare back, leaning on a hoe or shovel, their faces, hands and cotton smocks were smeared with the dark reddish-brown soil, the lifeblood of the flowering plants and trees that grew there.

The pair walked past the Playhouse with its spires looking suddenly more golden, as if recently polished. Long banners snaked through a gentle breeze, flapping like the wings of a firebird blazoned with an overwhelming palate of color. An older Guardian wheeled a clothes rack of colorful costumes towards one of the side entrances. The rack’s wheels on the crushed diamond path were giving the angel some difficulty, and she muttered under her breath, unaware of Father’s scowl. The enormous Playhouse looked like it was growing up from a bright cloud of white and yellow rose bushes. The intensity of Heaven’s light was brighter than Claire remembered, and she squinted.

There was activity all around them as they silently walked up the glistening path lined with blooming flowers bursting with heady aroma. It was the way to Father’s office complex, one she knew well in happier times. Although it was winter in Daniel’s world, Heaven’s blossoms of narcissus, snapdragons, stock, and bushes of lilac stood tall, invigorated by the mist that covered them several times a day. If only Claire could enjoy these sights, these scents.

Father opened the tall, etched glass-and-metal door for her. Claire dropped her duffel into the chair just inside the entrance, suddenly exhausted. She covered her face and sobbed.

Most humans want to go to Heaven.
Without Daniel, this is Hell itself.

“Come, Claire, we have to talk.” Father held out his hand, and escorted her down the hallway into his private office. The long hall that led to Father’s office echoed like a lonely mausoleum.

Once a warm room where a young angel would tell stories of the human world to the rapt attention of the old man she felt closer to than anyone else in the universe, now the space chilled her to the bone. Claire’s happy memories collided with the gaping hole she felt in her chest.

Of course they had to talk. She’d been so wrapped up with how miserable she felt, she’d temporarily forgotten about the consequences of her indiscretions with Daniel. She shivered, her teeth chattering.

“Sit here, child.” He pointed to the leather chair, warmed by the fireplace nearby. It was the chair she used to sit in during their long afternoon chats, like the day she created her first dust mixture or the morning she returned from her first successful mission. He made a point to be available to her, avidly listening to her theories on humans and why they behaved as they did. Claire found it curious how fascinated he was with all his creations.

Father’s tall statuesque form was motionless as he looked out the rosette window, his face awash in color and light, overseeing the Guardianship and the activity of the day spread out in front of him. He sighed.

Here it comes.

“I am gravely disappointed in you, Claire. I thought you were better prepared for this sort of mission.” He turned around to look at her.

Claire tried to stuff the emotions raging in her chest, but at last gave up. Overwhelmed, she dropped to his feet. “I am so sorry. Your trust and faith in me was all I ever had. But for just a few days, Father, I felt as if…as if…I were…” She looked up at him.

“Human,” he finished for her. “You actually thought you could live like a human? You’re an angel, Claire. Your human life was over years ago. You know this.” His voice was resolute, unwavering.

Claire knew it was absolutely the terrible truth. She nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands. She remained at his feet, while Father continued to stand gazing through the window. He touched the top of her head, then pulled his hand away and did not utter a word.

There was a light rap at the side door.

“Come in,” Father’s deep melodic voice consumed the whole room, rattling the windows just enough to make Claire flinch.

“Sorry, sir, this is for Claire.”

When she spotted Father’s personal assistant, a steaming mug in his hand, her mood lightened. He handed her a hot chocolate, filled to overflowing with whipped cream. Claire had enjoyed this ritual bestowed upon her many times before in Father’s office. Cedric was eternally kind to her, and appeared to be much older than most of the other angels in the Guardianship. His silver hair glistened in the sunlight as his bent frame stooped lower in a bow. He rose and extended the warm mug to Claire and gave her a private wink.

“Welcome back, Claire. So glad you have returned to us at last.”

“Oh, thank you, Cedric.” She immediately stood, taking the mug with a smile. Her hands were cold and the heat felt good. She inhaled the sweet warm mixture with eyes closed, just like she always did. Melted whipped cream spilled onto the white marble floor and on Claire’s dress.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cedric began. “I just wanted to help…”

Claire shook her head. “No, I’m grateful. Don’t worry about it.”

Instantly on his knees, Cedric produced a damp rag and wiped clean the white marble floor and then looked at Claire’s dress, streaked with two long brown lines.

“Cedric, I need a private word or two with Claire. We aren’t finished,” Father said with irritation. The bony assistant nodded and bowed, heading backwards toward the exit. Claire caught a conspiring smile and wink just before he disappeared behind the doorway. Father didn’t notice.

She mused at this small kindness, which warmed her heart as well as her hands, and felt a swelling of courage in her chest. Recalling the day she met Josh at the café when he made her spill her hot chocolate, she remembered how she found the courage then to stand up to the dark angel. She suddenly felt hopeful, although she had to admit, she missed the battle between the dark and light forces already. Giving up and retreating to safety was never her plan. Claire thought they could win the war. Now she was beginning to doubt whether or not she made the right decision to return.

Did I give up too soon? I should have died fighting.

“Please.” Father motioned her to sit again, then sat across from her in the other leather chair. He watched the fire and sighed. Behind him, ancient symbols carved in the dark grain of his old desk were highlighted with sunlight. They almost seemed to dance.

Claire made a big show of loudly slurping the white topping as Father’s eyebrows arched up. She didn’t care how much of it spilled onto her dress now. They’d just wash and send it back tomorrow, perfectly white, or get her a new one. But then of course she wouldn’t want a new one. It wouldn’t smell like Daniel anymore. It wouldn’t be the dress he pressed close to his chest when he said goodbye this morning. No, this dress would never be laundered. It would stay in her closet in her room, stains and all, marked forever with her tears.

She sat before Father and tried to compose herself. How nice it would be to just take a long nap, to wake up and find this all had been a bad dream. That she was in fact a real woman, sleeping safely in Daniel’s strong arms, suffering a nightmare that she had turned into an angel and had to return home to Heaven.

Father was studying her.

“Your days of being a Guardian are over, Claire. I need you to accept that as soon as you can.” He added softly, “I’m sorry it worked out this way for you. In time, you will mend.”

She nodded. She was going to try very hard to feel cold inside to quell the pain. Then later, she might start to feel alive again.

“We have to find something useful for you here. Mother has some good ideas. Perhaps a teaching position, or work in the Playhouse? Maybe the library?” He didn’t make eye contact so did not see the stare Claire drilled into him.

At last, Claire worked up the nerve to speak. “I have a question.”

Father looked slightly irritated with the request. “Yes, what is it?”

“You haven’t once said anything about all the rules I broke. I understood that perhaps I would be retired, banished, or buried in your cemetery out behind the greenhouses.”

“No, those angels didn’t come back. They have gone dark.”

“What do you mean, they didn’t come back? They are buried there, aren’t they?”

“No, they’re not. The white stones are reminders. For me.”

Claire looked up at his face, puzzled.

“I couldn’t just let them leave, be gone. I wanted to remember them, all of them. Over the space of time, there have been only a few.”

“Like Angela,” Claire whispered as she began to understand.

“Exactly.”

“I saw her, you know. She came back to say goodbye to me. She gave me her bag.”

“Yes. I knew.”

“So those angels are still alive?”

“Alive? No, but you’re not alive either, Claire. Do they exist, is that what you mean?”

She nodded.

“Yes. Somewhere, but out of my reach right now.” He winced as he continued. “They choose not to be found right now.”

“So they can come back?”

He smiled. “All things are possible. You know this, my dear.”

She saw the ancient face of a truly supreme being, secure, satisfied, and confident in his work. When his eyes fell upon her she felt ignited, almost human. He always had that affect on her.

Then she remembered herself—the reason for this meeting—and grew sad. “Except for a life with Daniel,” she whispered.

“Only as a dark angel. Do you want that? Really want that?” He was furrowing the large brow on his smooth ageless face.

Claire knew in her bones he could make it happen. He could just snap his fingers and she would be right back in the human world, but as a dark angel.

It took every ounce of her spirit to give him an answer.

“No.”

“The human world is intoxicating. I should know. I made it that way.” His steel blue eyes bored into Claire, and she saw in them ancient battles, heard cries of pain and joy. The rhythm of life was all around him. And he let her see it.

“I give humans choice, free will. I give angels the same, but each of you are two different sides of the same coin. Each of you has different choices available.” He got up, came to the end of the desk and sat on the edge in front of Claire. One knee was bent, the other straight, supporting his frame. Claire bowed her head and focused on her chocolate.

“You were supposed to go down to the human world and save this man, which you did. He probably won’t ever be in danger of doing himself harm again. But he knows about us now. It’s supposed to be his faith that saves him, that makes him strive to be a better man. He’s put his faith in an angel. I wanted him to believe, not know. Do you see the difference? In a way, Claire, you’ve robbed him of that. You’ve robbed him of his faith.”

Claire felt punched. “We fell in love!”

He stood up quickly, walked over in front of Claire, his scowling face leaning into her. “How dare you! How dare you place your own selfish needs above what we do here in the Guardianship. I chose you to become a Guardian because I saw in you a special quality all the angels have here, the capacity to serve, to help humans understand the power and beauty of life. Guardians serve unselfishly, wishing nothing for themselves. What you’ve brought this man is a relationship of the flesh, Claire. You gave him your body. He gets his inspiration from loving you, an angel. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

Claire saw something in Father’s logic. A flaw. A fatal flaw.

“Excuse me, sir. I need to understand something. You created the choices; you created the attractions. You created my body and then took that life away from me. You took me from my parents. I know they must have grieved. But I don’t know anything else about them—you wiped clean every ounce of my memories; you did this because you chose me to serve.” She stood up.

“And I have served you, Father. I have saved more humans than any of the angels here, without one single failure. I have inspired others at the Guardianship to be better angels. I have lived with their gossip and their criticism of my ways and of me. I have had my room searched and my personal things borrowed without permission. And I have never complained about any of it.”

The look on Father’s face was a mixture of anger and shock. His eyes clouded over, began to water.

“And I have given up the love of a man. You created that in me. You made that possible, gave me the choice. Now you want to take that away from me as well?” Claire looked at her feet, then back up to Father’s face.

“Is it necessary that you sacrifice me for your Guardianship? Because it isn’t my Guardianship. It’s yours. Who is the selfish one now?” She stepped closer and said to him softly, “It’s time to let me go.”

“No,” He whispered. “Your work is here.”

“No, Father, my work here is done. The battle isn’t in Heaven. The battle is down in the human world, where I belong.” Claire stepped back away from Father’s imposing figure, suddenly with more courage than she’d ever known. “I have done something you have not. For a few days I lived and loved as a human. I found my soul mate. That’s where I belong.”