Some Kind of Angel (16 page)

“Umm.  That pear tastes like candy.  Wonderful.  You have a piece.”

Instead, he cut another slice for her.  He followed it with a large, red grape.

“Two can play this game.”  She mimicked his actions, cutting the pear, offering him the grape.  “See how you are, Michael?  You’re so kind and generous that you make me kind and generous, too.  Did you learn that in your alien world?”

“I guess I must have.”

“Aha.  So I was right.  What alien world did you come from?”

“A planet from another solar system.  If I said the name, you would not know it.”

She got up from her chair, came over and settled herself in his lap.  “And you said you didn’t joke.”  She kissed him and he tasted the tang of cocktail sauce in her mouth.  He said, “Let’s go to bed, Leslie.”

“An excellent idea.”

“To sleep.”

“A crappy idea.”

“You need your rest.  We have to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“And I thought I liked you.”  Even her pouty child seemed adorable to him.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed.  She would be too hot sleeping in the robe, so he helped her out of it, pressed her down against the mattress and covered her nude body with a sheet.  When he moved away, she caught his arm.  “I’m not going to sleep without you,” she murmured.

“I was just going to shed my robe, love.”  He tossed his robe on a chair and moved in beside her to press her back against his chest.  He watched her beautiful long lashes spread against her cheek.  “Don’t leave me, Michael.”

He thought it strange that she would say that.  “Never, my love.”

The next morning, as he packed to vacate their honeymoon nest, Michael could not make out Leslie’s mood.  She was silent with a strange expression on her face.  He realized that she did not like having their honeymoon cut short, and he would like to have granted her wish to stay longer, but now that he was an earthly man, he had earthly worries.  The store, for one thing. Money for another.  He was responsible for supporting three people.

“Leslie, you know we have to go back.  This is the way we planned it.”

“Why do we have to stick to a plan?  Why can’t we stay here for another day?”

“Because our return plane tickets are for today.”

Now that her animosity was out in the open, she gave vent to her temper by throwing her clothes in her suitcase. 

Cautiously, he said, “Would you like to tell me what is wrong, my love?”

She stopped punishing her clothes long enough to look up at him and say, “You.  You are what’s wrong.  We’ll never again have what we had here.  Time is my enemy.  I’m going to grow big and fat and you won’t want me.  Then we’ll have the baby and he’ll cry at night and keep us apart because one of us will be walking the floor with him.  So you see?  You are what’s wrong.”

Michael had no one to tell him that her hormones were raging, being brought to life by her pregnancy and their long session of love making, but he sensed it without being told.  She was essentially crazy.  He’d have to walk on eggshells, and even that would be tricky.  “You do not think there will be times when we can be together like this?”

“No,” she said, pouting.  “It’s all over.”

“Leslie.”  He went to her and drew her into his arms.  “There will never be a time when I won’t want you.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove it?”

“Take me to bed.  Now.”

“We’ll miss our plane.”

“I don’t care.”

He made one last try for sanity.  “We’ll end up sitting in the airport for several hours.”

“I don’t care.”

She went to him and began to unbutton his shirt.  And so, he stood beside the bed and watched her undress him, and then herself.  The sight of her beautiful body was too much even for him.

She lay down on the bed and opened her arms.  He forgot about schedules and planes and lay down on top of her to fit his now more-than-ready body into hers. 

After they dressed, there was the ritual of saying goodbye to everyone in Leslie’s family.  Elizabeth caught Michael in her arms and whispered in his ear, “I know you’ll take good care of her.  Thank you for marrying my daughter.”

Michael smiled at his mother-in-law.  “You’ve raised a remarkable woman.”

Jake shook his hand with a glint of admiration in his eyes.  This man might be able to tame Leslie.  “You be good to my little sister.”

“I will.”

Leslie hugged Dorian.  “If you need me, brother, just call.  We’ll talk.”

He smiled at her indulgently.  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yes, there is.”  She kissed his cheek.  “You’re an old soul, Dorian.  Listen to your heart.”

“Be good,” he told her.

She laughed.  “Too late for that.”

Laura stood there with eyes that glistened.  Leslie told her, “Don’t cry, sis.  After the baby comes, you can fly up to visit me.”

“I’ll help you change diapers.”

“Perfect,” Leslie said, smiling.

Seated in the car, I took one last look at my family.  I turned away, tears gathering in the back of my eyes.  Maybe it was a mistake, being so far away from them.  But Michael was my life now.  Michael and the coming baby.  My new husband started the car and drove around the circular driveway, and my family disappeared from sight.

At the airport, when they made it through security in record time, Michael thought they might be able to board.  But when they got to the gate, the plane had already rolled out.  Althea and Jeremy were on it.

Michael went to the counter and arranged for another flight.  When he returned to Leslie where she sat with their luggage, he said, “It will be another four hours, love.”

“This is all my fault.”

“Not to worry, my sweet.”

He sat down beside her and she looped her arm in his.  “I just want to keep touching you.”

“I’m right here, Leslie.”

She managed to lean against him and drowse.  He was glad she was resting.  Probably the best thing for her. 

Before the four hours ended, the plane that Michael and Leslie had missed taxied back into the bay.  When the passengers started to pour through the gate and settle into the chairs around them, Althea and Jeremy came to sit down beside them.  Michael asked Althea, “What happened?  Why did your pilot come back?”

“The plane lost cabin pressure.  The pilot had to bring the plane down to a lower altitude in order for us to make it back here.  Let me tell you, when the flight attendant told us what happened, that cabin was completely quiet.  No one said a word.  I thought I just might be meeting my Maker.”

Michael could only think,
thank heaven we weren’t on that plane.

He expected Leslie to gloat a bit when he told her, but all she said was, “If I’d been on that plane, I would have been so afraid.”

“Yes,” Michael said.  He thought he might have been a little panicked himself.  It was a new experience to him, worrying about those he loved dying.

Once they got into their newly scheduled flight with luggage stowed and seat belts on, Leslie leaned her head against Michael’s shoulder.  “I wish we could have stayed home a little longer.”

“I know.”

When they returned to the city, Michael was relieved to find the store in good order.  It was dark, but Herman had remained, knowing they were coming in.  He’d sold two articles in their absence, he told Michael, beaming with pride.  “I sold the large white angel in the window and…wait for it.” Herman spread both his hands out like an entertainer on stage, making Michael wonder why everybody in New York had to be dramatic about the simplest things, “the mahogany Victorian bar server for five thousand forty one dollars, plus delivery.”

“A thousand over the ebay price,” Leslie said, coming in behind Michael.  “Herman, you’re a genius.”  She circled around Michael to give Hermon a smacking kiss on the cheek.  “We might have a hamburger this week along with our macaroni and cheese.”

Herman’s success seemed to start a trend.  A mother came in on Monday, looking for a play house for her daughter.  Leslie found an inexpensive bureau that she convinced the mother would work. Herman could remove the drawers from it and turn into a tiny playhouse.  Michael discovered he had something of a knack for finding out what the customer wanted and searching the store for an acceptable item. 

He sold the four tapestries that Leslie had hung in the window as a backdrop to the angels.

They hired a moving van from a small company to take the few pieces of furniture Michael had in the apartment and install them in the space above the store that they were turning into their home.  There was already a bathroom and a kitchenette installed in the second floor space.  Leslie was anxious to get everything transferred so they could stop paying rent on the other apartment.

By the first week in December, the few pieces of furniture that Michael had were all relocated to the second floor above the antique store.  Then it was a matter of cleaning out the boxes that had been left up there.  There were several boxes of Christmas decorations which Leslie was delighted to find, and boxes of odds and ends that Bernard must have thought he couldn’t sell.

Leslie had insisted that the bed be set up so they would have a place to sleep that night.  After that was done, Leslie oversaw the hauling of the Christmas décor down into the main store.  She was crawling around in the front display window, directing placement of the snowman and the Santa Claus when she sat down suddenly on the raised floor of the window with a strange look on her face and her hand on her belly.

Michael went on instant alert.  “What is it, my love?”

“He…kicked me.”  She looked dazed.  “Michael.  Come put your hand here.”

Michael did as she directed.  There was nothing.  “It must be your imagination.”

“No, wait.”  She smiled up at Michael.  “The little devil knows I want him to move so he’s staying very still.”  She kept Michael’s hand under hers.

“There.”  She was triumphant.  “Did you feel it?”

A child, Michael thought in wonderment.  There is a child inside Leslie with legs and feet already developed.  This was a miracle.

With his hand still under hers, Leslie leaned forward to kiss Michael.  Caught up in her exuberance, he returned her kiss fully, exploring her mouth, thrusting his tongue in a lover’s embrace.  In their excitement, neither one of them heard the front door open and close.

Sitting there on the raised floor of the display window with Michael’s hand on the place where my child grew, I looked straight up into the face of my former lover and the father of my baby.

“Adam.  What are you doing here?”

“I came…to see you.  I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

He wanted to make sure I was all right?  He didn’t give a flip about me the night he scrambled out of my apartment as if the hounds of hell were after him.

He looked strange to me.  There were new lines in his face that made him look older.  How odd.  I had almost forgotten him.  I looked at his finely boned hands and knew he had touched me intimately, but it felt as if it had happened to another person.  “I’m fine.  As you can see.” It felt so strange, trying to make casual conversation with Adam.  What was even stranger was looking at his handsome face and feeling nothing.  “I understand the play is going well?”

“Very well.”

“And your wedding.  It’s this spring, isn’t it?

“June.”  He didn’t seem interested in talking about his wedding.  “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your…friend?”

“Of course.  How remiss of me.  Michael, this is Adam.  Adam, Michael.  Michael is my husband.”

“Your husband.”  He said the words flatly, almost in disbelief.

It pleased me to see Adam look shocked.  “I’m sure you haven’t heard about my wedding.  I was married in Florida at my family’s ranch two weeks ago.”

“Well, that was quick work.”  He aimed the arrow straight and true.  I was pleased to feel it bounce off of me painlessly.

“Needs must,” I said airily, doing my best to show him his words hadn’t hurt me, grabbing Michael’s hand to stand up with me so I could show Adam how handsome my husband was and how devoted he was to me. “I just felt my first kick this morning.  Would you like to feel your son moving in my body?” I challenged Adam, moving nearer to him.

“That’s probably not a good idea.”  He looked torn, as if he really would like to touch me.  “I should be going.  I just wanted to make sure you were all right, Leslie.  Now I see I’m keeping you from your work.”

Michael said, “Yes, you are.”  He tried to let Leslie take the lead in handling this encounter with her former lover, but he was having a hard time keeping his fisted hands at his sides.  He hadn’t known he could ache with the urge to hit a man.

“I’ll take my leave then.”

Michael watched Adam open the door and step out into the street.  Adam’s car was a Ferrari, a long, low-slung red machine.  No doubt it was a Christmas present from his doting mother.  Adam swung into the car and without turning his head to check the street behind him, accelerated away from the curb at a high speed.  Michael supposed he was anxious to put Leslie far behind him.  Leslie was a mistake, and Adam was a man who didn’t like to admit to mistakes.  Whatever had possessed the man to come here to their place of business?  It seemed to Michael the last place Adam would want to be seen.  He turned to Leslie, trying to get a reading of her feelings from her face.

“Was it bad, love?”

She shook her head.  “It was…strangely liberating.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.  He’s going to miss out on so much.  He won’t be there when his son says his first words, when he opens a Christmas present, when he starts to school.”

“Very true, my love.”

“I used to hate Adam, but now I just feel sorry for him.”

“He is a man to be pitied.”  Michael ran his hand down Leslie’s cheek.  “Are you going to feel like going back to decorating the front window?”

“Yes, of course.  Why wouldn’t I?”

They decided on a medium-sized Christmas tree to be the focal point.  “Let’s keep the angels and scatter some snow around.  Do we have fake snow in that box, Michael?”

He brought out a box that was labeled Indoor Snow.  “Might this be it?”

“Yes.”  She looked as delighted as a child, crawling back into the front window and scattered the shiny snowdrops around on the floor, the angels and the tree.  It was as if Adam had never been there.

‘It’s beginning to look like Christmas,” she told him.

Michael plucked a large Christmas ornament from the box labeled “Ornaments” and placed it on the tree.  “You haven’t told me what you want for Christmas, love.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Leslie said, offhandedly.  “I suspect we don’t have a lot of money for gifts.”

“But surely there is something you need, perhaps something for our new apartment.”

“Well, we do need a dish drainer.”

“Yes, we do.”  He tucked the idea of a dish drainer away in his mind, thinking it would be awkward wrapping it, but if that was what Leslie wanted, that’s what she would get. 

“What do you want for Christmas, Michael?”

A gift for Christmas was a totally foreign concept to him.  He had no idea what to say.  “I am not accustomed to receiving presents.”

“There must be something I can get you.” 

She looked so anxious and lovely that he said, “I have everything I need here.  You, the store, the baby.  What more could a man want?”

“Oh, Michael.  You’re so…unusual.”  I already had an idea what I would give him for Christmas.  A lovely old pocket watch had come into the store as a remnant from one of our estate sales.  I would take it to a watch repairman who had a sweet little shop tucked in between the bakery and a store that sold knockoff designer shoes.  He could make sure it was in good running order and engrave it,
To Michael, the angel in my life.

The week before Christmas rolled around and Michael had just finished tallying up last week’s sales.  Thanks to Althea Hudson and several of her newly acquired well-to-do friends, the store had shown a healthy profit.  Michael thought they just might make it to the end of the year without having to borrow any money.  He worried about money constantly.  He still didn’t have enough to pay for health insurance and the baby was due in May.  He would need to get something in place before then.  But just as he thought he had everything under control…Michael knew before he went down the stairs on this particular morning and opened the door at the bottom that separated their apartment from the shop, he would find an unwelcome visitor waiting for him.  Obviously he needed to talk to Herman about letting people into the shop before regular hours.

The man didn’t look like a gangster.  He was youngish, probably in his late thirties, a little older than Michael.  He looked like any New York man obsessed with working out and developing his muscles.  He wore a light blue t-shirt in a stretchy cotton specifically designed to show off his impressive biceps.  His hair was cut short in the latest fashion.  He prowled along the aisle, restless as he waited for Michael. 

“Mr. O’Malley.  I’m Luciano Mortelli.”  The man extended his hand.  This man’s aura was strong, a gray miasma that contained a lifetime of wrong doing.  Michael tried to hide his reluctance to touch the man, but he was forced to accept the handshake.  Michael nearly shuddered.  It was as if he could feel all the evil that lay inside that man, the people he’d killed, the people he’d ordered killed.

“Mr. O’Malley, we had an understanding with the previous owner.  I don’t know whether you were aware of that agreement when you purchased the store.”

“No, I was not.”  Gabriel was not there to ping him for lying.  “Mr. Capperelli made no mention of any outstanding agreement.  At any rate, such an agreement would not extend to me.”

Mortelli picked up an angel figurine and played with it, performing the trick of rolling it from one finger to the next.  How was such an innocuous act threatening?  Yet Michael knew that’s exactly what it was intended to be.  “You have a lovely wife, do you not?  And a baby on the way?  It would be a tragedy if something happened to that beautiful wife of yours.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No, Mr. O’Malley.  I’m not threatening you.  But as I say, if something should happen to your wife…”

“What do you want from me?”

“Just a small amount of cash each month.  Protection money, if you will.  For your wife.”

“How much is a small amount of money?”

“Shall we say…five hundred dollars?”

“This store does not make five hundred dollars a month.”

“Perhaps I can lower it to four hundred.”  He smiled at Michael as if he were doing him a great favor.

“Do you have this agreement with the other business owners on this street?”

“That would be none of your business, Mr. O’Malley.”

“I cannot afford a monthly payment of four hundred dollars.”

“Then I suggest that you find a way to increase your store’s income.  For if I lower your payment any more, then I would have to lower everyone else’s payment.  You can see what a snowball effect that would have on my income.”

“The income that you neither earn nor deserve.  So you do have an agreement with the other store owners.”

With great care, Mortelli replaced the angel on top of the glass case.  “You’re new to this neighborhood, Mr. O’Malley, so I’m inclined to cut you a little slack.  But do not think I will tolerate such a slight to myself in the future.  Our agreement begins January first.  Happy New Year, Mr. O’Malley.”

With a swagger that was meant to telegraph to any observer that he was not a man to be trifled with, Mortelli made his way through the display of furniture and pulled open the door to step out onto the street as if he owned the sidewalk as well.

Michael had known it was coming.  Bernard had told him about the extortion scheme at the very last minute.  He bowed his head, wishing devoutly for his connection to Gabriel.  What could he do?  He could not pay that amount of money, but he certainly couldn’t put Leslie in danger, either. 

The police.  He would go to the police tomorrow.

He returned from the police station that next afternoon totally disheartened.  Why couldn’t they help him?  Why couldn’t they take his word that Mortelli had threatened him?  Why did they need proof?  They wanted him to wear a wire every day so when the man came in to collect he could record their conversation.  This seemed to be of no help to him at all.

That night in bed, he rolled away from Leslie.  He could not make love to her when he had so much on his mind.  Why hadn’t he realized life as a mortal would have so many pitfalls?  Still, he couldn’t blame Gabriel.  Gabriel had tried to warn him.

Leslie rolled toward him in bed and he felt the slight roundness of her baby bump.  “What is it, my love?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you think that after this much time together I can’t tell when you’re worrying about something?”

“It is nothing, Leslie.”

“Now don’t think you can fob me off with your, nothing-to-bother-your-little-head-about voice.  Tell me what’s troubling you.  I know it has to be bad for you not to be interested in making love.”  I reached down and began to stroke him, pleased to feel him becoming hard and full.

“No,” he said firmly, removing my hand from his body.

“No?  It’s because I’m getting fat, isn’t it?  See?  I told you this would happen when we were in Florida.  I’d get fat and you wouldn’t want me…”

“Shut up, Leslie.”  He rolled over on top of me and plunged himself into me, thrilling me with his sudden possession.  He began to move, lifting my buttocks up so that he might go deeper into me, thrusting into me again and again, hardly giving me time to come up to his level of passion.  When his climax came, I was only just beginning to enjoy it. 

He rolled away and lay looking at the ceiling.  What kind of a monster had he become, taking her only for his own pleasure?  He sprang up out of bed and went into the kitchen, a small partition the only thing separating the bedroom from the main part of the apartment.  He sat at the breakfast bar with his head in his hands.

“Michael.”  She came up behind him and leaned on his back, her arms around his neck.  “I’m sorry.  I’m a thoughtless witch and I…”

She should hate him.  Instead, she was apologizing to him.  “You’re no such thing.”  He brought her around to perch on his lap.  “You’re the sweetest, most loving woman I’ve ever known.”

“And have you known a lot of women, Michael?” she said playfully, teasing him, catching one of his strands of hair that drooped down on his forehead.

“No.  I don’t need to know a lot of women to know what you are.”

“Come back to bed.  I’ll let you alone, I promise.”

“You go ahead.  Just let me sit here for a while and think.”

“Can’t you think in bed?”

“Not with you in it.”

“That’s one of the nicest compliments you’ve paid me.”  I brushed his lips with a kiss and climbed off his lap.  “I’ll go and let you alone.  Although it kills me to do it.  You owe me one, Mr. O’Malley.”

“I owe you one?  I owe you one what?”

He sounded so puzzled that I chuckled.  “You owe your wife a climax, Mr. O’Malley.”

“Oh.”

“Succinctly put.  Goodnight, sweetheart.  Don’t stay up too long.”

He talked to Gabriel in his mind even though he had to supply what he thought Gabriel’s answers might be.  He no longer had communication with his mentor and he missed him.  He sat there till almost dawn with no solution coming to him.  It was when he went back to bed to get a few hours’ sleep before his work day began that a solution came to him.  Perhaps Gabriel had whispered the answer to him after all.  Everybody loved their mothers…particularly Italian men.