Angel's Decree

Chap 5

Monica looked into his attractive face, at a loss for words. “Andrew… I… don’t know what to say.”

“Well,” he whispered, “Now you know.”

“And I wonder if it will change things...” she mused out loud even though she knew in her heart that it already had.

It was very late when he dropped her off at home, neither of them having said much after his big confession. He was positive he had ruined everything with her and so he went home, kicked off his boots and fell into bed without even calling off from his job. In the back of his mind, he wondered, darkly, if anyone would die tonight because of his negligence, but somehow that seemed oddly appropriate.

There was a part of him that felt let down by this careless behavior – but what were humans if not flawed? And anyway, he felt as if his heart was breaking.

By the time he fell off into a restless slumber, his dreams were plagued with the strangest notions. He was dressed all in white, which was odd because he didn’t even own anything white, and Monica was there as well, glowing as if lit up from within. She was so bright that he could barely stand to look at her, but she was so beautiful that he couldn’t turn away, and the urge to kiss her was almost overwhelming. But the Countess appeared out of nowhere and told him that he couldn’t kiss Monica because she was his sister!

The idea alone was enough to jerk him out of his sleep, so hard that he gave himself a slight headache. Instead of dwelling on it, though, he got up and got dressed for work, his hands still shaking. He was more than an hour late, but at least he’d still make it.

Meanwhile, miles away, Monica sat up, Indian style on her bed and watched the array of emotions that crossed her roommate’s flushed features. Jaime stood near the threshold, her back against the door as she fumbled her way through a weak explanation.

“Yeah, don’t believe anything Caryn says about me. It’s all lies.”

“Oh?” Monica tried to wrap her mind around that possibility. Perhaps Caryn really had lied, but why?

“Oh sure! Caryn lies all the time – especially about me. I didn’t want you thinking I’m some kind of…” Jaime hesitated. She didn’t really know where she was going with this.

“We can talk about it if you’d like.” Monica interjected.

“Oh. No. It’s fine.” Jaime put on a brave front. “Anyway, you’re not my type.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing.” Monica smiled good naturedly.

“Oh definitely.” Jaime, waved a nonchalant hand. “I never go for artists or red heads or… Irish accents.”

“What a coincidence.”

“I know, right?” Jaime smirked, wiping a bit of perspiration off her brow. “Anyway, yeah. Don’t believe what Caryn says. It’s all lies.”

Monica stood up and went to Jaime. Something Andrew had told her was still fresh on her mind, well, actually most of what Andrew had said was on her mind, but at least some of that she could share with a friend. “If you ever feel alone and need someone to talk to, then you should talk to God.”

Jaime looked into Monica’s cocoa colored eyes and quickly looked away. “I don’t believe in God, Monica.”

“It’s not too late to start believing in him.”

Jaime rolled her eyes. “And what good could it do?”

“I think…” Monica pondered out loud, “…that it could do a lot of good.”

Jaime shook her head, eyes misting. “But will it take away the pain?”

Now Monica didn’t have an answer. She’d never had issues so big that they couldn’t be solved with a hot cup of coffee or a few strokes of a paintbrush. Most of her issues were small in comparison to Jaime’s, but lately… she wasn’t sure. The latest realization with Andrew could prove to be a big new change in her life – good or bad.

“Right.” Jaime said, answering her own question. “Just as I thought. You don’t even have an answer.” And she sauntered off down the hall to her own room, shutting the door behind her.

Monica stared after her and felt terrible because she hadn’t had an answer. She honestly didn’t know what God was capable of. She didn’t know what he could do for Jaime or how he would heal her. She felt that he could, but she didn’t know how to express it in words. And then her mind began to wander back to Andrew. The concert was coming up at the end of this week, and she didn’t even know what she would say to him when she saw him again. In those private little moments, when she let herself truly feel, she had to admit that his words excited her, made her feel alive, made her feel like a woman. But something about that felt wrong.

Two days later, Caryn took Monica dress shopping.

“You have to look gorgeous – not that it’ll be hard for you.” Caryn made a face at Monica. “You’re ninety-nine point nine percent of the way there already. I think you should go with red or burgundy. Something to bring out your lips.”

Monica blushed. “It doesn’t have to be red, does it?”

Ignoring her shy roommate, Caryn slipped through the dress racks, looking for something in Monica’s size. This was a high-end department store, and she didn’t want to spare any expense. Monica deserved it, after all. And she deserved to be happy with Andrew – even if Monica herself didn’t understand it yet.

As it turned out, Monica tried on eight different dresses, all in varying shades of red until finally, at Monica’s request, she tried on something in a cream color, and they made their decision because it made her look so ethereal and otherworldly, Caryn’s breath was taken away.

“Whatever you do, don’t let Jaime see you in that dress.” Caryn murmured as they ate lunch in a little bistro later. “She might have a coronary.”

“I wonder what Andrew will think.” Monica said in a small voice.

Caryn snorted. “Um, you mean after he picks his jaw up from the floor?”

Monica smiled, a shy little smile. “He told me… he said he may be falling in love with me.”

“Of course he is.” Caryn dipped a breadstick into her soup before taking a bite. “It’s so obvious, Monica. You’re the last one to know.”

“Am I?” Monica took a sip of her water with lemon.

“Has he kissed you yet?”

Now Monica was coughing, having nearly swallowed said lemon. “What?…”

“Has he tried to kiss you?”

Monica shook her head, dabbing a napkin at her mouth. “Of course he hasn’t.”

Caryn rolled her eyes and told Monica that she was, as usual, a big old prude, that most people would have kissed after the first date and by this time would be planning to move in together or in some cases, picking out baby names, which of course made Monica nearly choke again.

Then Caryn told Monica maybe she should consider cozying up to him because the future looked bleak for Jaime and she didn’t know what she was planning to do with herself. It would be nice to have Andrew to depend on.

“But I don’t want to depend on him.” Monica said quietly. “At least… not yet.”

“What’s stopping you?” Caryn seriously wanted to know. She looked deep into Monica’s eyes, and she saw so much uncertainty that it saddened her. “What’s holding you back from taking the plunge with him, Monica? He’s the best thing that’s come along in forever. It’s like God dropped him right on your doorstep just for you. He didn’t give him to Jaime or me, God forbid. He gave him to you, specifically. So, what’s holding you back?”

Now Monica’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know.” She whispered, and she truly didn’t know what it was that was keeping her from loving Andrew whole-heartedly. Deep down, she wanted nothing more than to be with him, but it seemed like there was a barrier in the way. Any normal woman would have killed for a man like him, would be planning an engagement party already and house hunting and all the rest, but Monica felt different. She wasn’t driven by any of it, not the way she should be.

Later, after she and Caryn came home, and Caryn went back out again, Monica prepared herself for work. Her beautiful dress hung in the closet and she kept looking at it as she combed her hair and knotted it into a bun at the nape of her neck. She wondered what Andrew was doing right now, if he was thinking of her as she was thinking of him, if he could still feel her warm fingers entwined with his as she could feel it.

At work, she went by in a daze, counting down the time until the concert, which was coming up the very next night. She hadn’t thought much about the Countess, but she was pulled taught as a bowstring in preparation to see her. It was as if she’d been waiting an eternity to hear her sing, and she was more than ready for it.

That night, when she got off work, she slipped into the apartment, so as not to disturb her roommates and lay her head down without even changing out of her work clothes. She felt exhausted tonight, more so than usual. And her dreams were colorful and filled with song.

She was standing near the stage, and the Countess was belting out music that seemed too pure for human ears. It was God’s choir with the Countess at the lead, and the melodies were so harmonious that Monica’s eyes overflowed with tears of emotion. Beside her, Andrew was as caught up as she was. Not only was the Countess strikingly beautiful, but also her voice was like a warm quilt woven with bullion.

Monica woke up shivering and cold. Her dreams took her places that seemed so peaceful and heavenly only to wrench her out of them, back down to earth where things were cold and harsh and confusing. She felt like she was just born, forced from the soft, protective womb and into the world where she was alone again.

That night, Monica dressed in her room, her pale naked body shivering until she pulled on the silky soft under things Caryn had persuaded her to pick up in the lingerie department – ‘just in case things get hot and heavy with Andrew later’, she’d said. But of course, Monica wasn’t planning for anything like that.

The slip of a dress slid down over her thin frame easily as she smoothed it down in the front, resting her hands on her narrow hips. She didn’t know what to think of herself. She thought she looked pretty, but she wondered what Andrew would think. She also wondered what The Countess would think even though, odds were, she wouldn’t even get to meet her face-to-face.

She fiddled around a bit with her hair, wondering if she should pull it back or leave it down or twist it into a knot or curl it or leave it naturally wavy. In the end, she decided to curl it and let it drape down her back, tendrils falling past her temples.

The apartment was quiet since Caryn had gone to visit her parents that day, and Jaime was nowhere to be seen, but then she heard a voice behind her as she reached for the door.

“You look nice.” Jaime’s words were slurred.

“Thank you.” Monica said, trying to see her in the shadows.

“He’s a lucky guy, this Andrew.”

Monica paused before replying. “That’s very kind of you to say.”

“Well, have fun.” Jaime’s voice was full of irony. “I know I will.”

“Alright.” Monica wasn’t sure what else to say, but she felt that she needed to say something. “Goodnight.”

Outside, Andrew’s truck was parked next to the curb. They had promised to meet at six-thirty, but he was almost convinced that she wouldn’t want to meet him after their last outing. He was sure he had said too much, but he couldn’t take it back now. He only hoped maybe she had forgotten.

When she came out of the building, he felt his heart flutter at the sight of her. In an off-white dress that hugged her slim body but flowed like rippling water around her, he would have sworn he was looking at an angel. Her hair was immaculate, fluid russet rivers, overcast with her natural red highlights. He got out to meet her and felt that his breath had been ripped from his lungs as she approached the car.

“Hello.” she said in her silky voice, and he had to avert his eyes.

“Hello.” he went to open the door for her. “You look… beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him. “So do you.” And he did, in his pale gray turtleneck and dark blazer to mach his slacks. His blond hair had gotten longer in the few weeks she had known him, and he had it pulled back into a little ponytail that gave him a charming look. When they were both seated, she surprised herself by reaching across and touching his hand.

“I missed you, Andrew.” she couldn’t look at him as the words flowed forward. She didn’t even know where they came from or for how long they had been bottled up, but she couldn’t rein them in. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight ever since you invited me. But also, I’ve been looking forward to… just being with you.”

Andrew, for his part, was stunned. Monica had never expressed any interest in him outside the realm of friendship. Now, however, she seemed to genuinely like him. Her words ignited something inside him that felt so wrong, but so terribly right. He couldn’t ignore his basic human instincts any longer.

“I can’t tell you how glad I feel right now.” he said, his voice almost inaudible.

“You can’t?”

“No.” he shook his head, “But I can show you.” and he leaned over, slowly, giving her every opportunity to protest, his hand leisurely reaching to push a long dark tendril of hair away from her face, his fingertips brushing the soft skin of her cheek. She shivered and wondered what to do, panicking internally, but staying still otherwise, the anticipation of what he was about to do making her freeze in time. His mouth was so close to hers right now that she could almost taste him, like fear and mint tea. He thought about his dream and about the Countess’ words and pushed them away. It was impossible for Monica to be his sister, even metaphorically. He loved her too much, and he suspected that she loved him.

Monica’s hand held Andrew’s wrist, not pushing him away, but rather anchoring herself as his lips brushed hers for the first time. The ground seemed to move beneath them as he held on, parting his mouth a bit to get a taste of her in case he never got this opportunity again. Monica’s eyes slipped shut as she got lost in the euphoria of it. She never thought it could be like this. She never even wanted as much, but now she felt she could spend an eternity this way, locked into a kiss with Andrew.

When they came up for air, it was only a fraction of an inch between their lips, before taking the plunge again. This time, Monica took the helm, kissing him gently, her breath catching in her throat as his hand came up to touch her bare shoulder, his fingers moving up to lightly caress her slender neck.

And then Monica pulled back, breaking the kiss. She was warm all over and terrified of what they had just done, but more than that, she had started to feel that they were drowning in it. This passion was too overwhelming. “We should go,” she breathed, and Andrew exhaled and slid back over into the driver’s seat, sliding the key in the lock and starting it up. His hands were shaking as he clutched the steering wheel and pulled away from the curb.