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Authors: Sharon Hamilton

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BOOK: Heavenly Lover
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Chapter 21

Doris struggled up the circular stairwell at the Guardianship dorm. She was attempting to get two of the largest paintings up to Claire’s room without injuring them. She wondered how long it would take before she would be detected.

She didn’t get far.

Ava stood at the top of the stairs. Doris was a little relieved it was one of Claire’s friends. She’d made a habit of being scarce and barely knew anyone.

“What are you doing, Doris?”

“New form of exercise all the rage down below. Haul bubble wrap canvases up and down stairs.” She stopped as she lost her grip on one of them, but Ava ran to catch it in time before it went sailing over the handrail.

“Where’d you get these?”

“Claire.” Doris didn’t really need to say more. They walked down the hallway, each holding one large canvas, bigger than they were. “Hope you got a key, or I’m breaking in.”

“There isn’t one.” Ava opened the door.

“Jeez,” Doris exclaimed as she looked at the disarray that was Claire’s private sanctuary. It had been ransacked. They hadn’t even tried to cover it up. “Little shits. Oops, sorry, girlfriend.” Doris halfway expected an electric jolt from some unseen finger.

“I completely agree. For all she does for us you would think they would treat her with more respect.”

“Claire would never do this, even in retaliation. That’s what makes her so good. They’re just young and out of control. Selfish. Not enough supervision.” Doris sounded more reasonable than she was feeling. But she was in Heaven, after all.

They leaned the paintings on an interior wall, away from the sunlight streaming through the one window.

“I think I’d better get the others from the transport before we get spotted. Can you help me?”

“How many more?”

“Four.”

“Wow. She must be inspired.”

“I wouldn’t exactly put it that way. I was thinking of another word, but I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut.”

They hurried down the stairs. There was a small crowd around the transport.

“Alright, alright, nothing to see. Go on now. Don’t you guys have a class or something? Someone to save? A plant to plant?” Doris said as she shoed away the six or seven angels who were looking inside the windows of the transport. They stayed in one group, whispering as they retreated.

“Guess it’s not a secret now,” Doris sighed. She opened up the rear door and carefully took out the other four canvases. The two angels each took two, and started up the path to the dorm. “Next I’ll get the summons.”

“What will you tell Mother?”

“Beats me, kid. I’ll think of something.”

“Does this mean Claire is coming home soon?”

“Nah.” Doris stopped to catch her breath. She wasn’t used to this kind of work. “That angel is going to stay down there as long as she can.”

They continued up the front steps of the dorm building.

“Can you tell me who made them?”

“Her new charge, Daniel. Boy, is he a stunner. I’d ride him around in my cab all day, if you know what I mean.”

Doris saw Ava smile and consider her comment. She was pretty sure Claire’s books were quite an education for the young angel. Doris preferred books about bad boys on bikes. She kept them in the trunk of her locked transport, and in the safety deposit box she managed to sneak past her auditors in New York City. She figured Ava had no firsthand experience—that she knew of.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s not complaining. And that’s a little new for her. Last few times she was, I don’t know, just not happy with the job.”

“Is she going to keep her record?”

“From what I understand—now this is just rumor, mind you—as long as Claire is around, this Daniel guy ain’t going anywhere. But I think they’re on a collision course.” She adjusted the grip on her two packages before mounting the stairwell.

“Collision course? Like an accident?”

“Honey, there’s no accident about love.”

Happy for you, Claire
.
About time that girl had someone who could love her back as intensely as she loved others.
Doris still worried about her, though.

They set the other four against the wall, checking the coverings.

“Should we open them up?” Ava asked.

“God, no! Oops, sorry. I don’t spend much time here; I’m out of practice. Ava, I honestly don’t know what is underneath these wrappings. What if it was a bunch of nudes?”

Love to see it, though. Wouldn’t that be a scene?
“Kid, what if they were nudie pictures of Claire herself?”

“I see your point.” Ava glanced at the condition of Claire’s room and said, “I’ll tidy up a bit, and then I’ll sneak a peek under the bubble wrap.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Doris returned with a wink, and left, closing the door behind her.

Ava straightened the silk embroidered pillows on Claire’s daybed, and repositioned some of Claire’s romance novels back onto the bookshelf. A couple of the books had spines so well worn, the pages fell out. She smiled as she remembered the tour she and Claire had taken that first day they met, on Ava’s first day in Heaven. What a magical day that had been.

It had felt like she woke up from a deep sleep as someone kissed the top of her head gently and whispered, “Welcome to Heaven, child.” She had passed through a warm lighted mist that left the faint scent of lavender and citrus on her skin. She realized she was dressed in a white gown, sitting on a wooden bench seat in a small boat behind a row of other girls similarly dressed. In the distance a cherub choir was singing.

These little ones are angels too.

At the front of the boat was a long neck of a swan carved in wood extending up into the mist so high she almost couldn’t see the top of the bird’s head. There was a small thump as the boat reached its destination and, as if on cue, all the girls stood. Beyond the dock was a golden landscape punctuated by green gardens of brightly colored flowers waving in the gentle breeze.

Straight ahead soared a translucent building several stories in height. It appeared to be carved from one solid piece of glass with a roofline so tall it extended up into the clouds and disappeared.

Ava felt a hand lock into hers and turned to gaze on the new angel she was paired with. Her short, blond hair spun out of control in the sunlight, and her pale blue eyes reached deep into Ava’s soul. Her new escort had flawless white skin, looking like it was carved from alabaster.

“I’m Claire. Welcome to Heaven,” the angel said.

They only had a week together before Claire was sent away on her emergency mission with the painter. But they were inseparable during that time and knew somewhere in their erased memories they must have known each other. She missed Claire deeply.

They both loved the playhouse performances. It was packed on Friday and Saturday nights. Old fashioned candle stage lights and torches were used for lighting, illuminating the room in a flickering, constantly changing form, like the wings of butterflies. And of course, fire was never a problem.

One couldn’t ask for a better audience, as angels were a most enthusiastic crowd. Regardless of the quality of the performance, the angel crowds always gave standing ovations. On occasion, there would be a lot of fluttering. The audience would elevate happily and throw off their dust. Sparkle would be everywhere.

When it got especially exuberant, it was not only a heady mess of scent, but emotions as well. Occasionally there would be little ones younger than five in the audience. They had to be watched carefully. Ava had seen them run out of the Playhouse screaming. It was a lot for them to take in.

Father had an ornate box in the first balcony to stage right. He would sit in his box with several of the Guardian Mother Instructors, his ladies as he called them. Ava had seen his face light up and knew the playhouse had a special place in his heart. He never missed a performance of Peter Pan. Never.

Peter Pan was everyone’s favorite, performed with an all new cast each month. They had lots of time to prepare. The play had been adapted, and the Tinkerbell role was extremely coveted, but since it was given each month with a different cast, anyone who wanted the role would have the opportunity.

They came to the part where Peter asks the house to clap loudly for Tinkerbelle. The clapping was supposed to help her survive the poison she ingested to save Peter’s life. It was the house’s favorite part.

The last time she and Claire attended, there was more than the usual flutter and sparkle spray and clapping. Seated in the first three rows was a large contingent of the cherub choir, recently expanded. It was their first performance and they were perhaps a bit on edge, fluttery already. Their rosy cheeks bloomed under the house candlelight, and their sweet scent, warm smiles, and rapt attention added all kinds of emotion to the stage for the actors, as well as the rest of the audience. In fact, the angel who played Wendy became so overcome, she started crying spontaneously on stage and forgot her lines.

These types of performances were, in fact, what the audience loved best. Her scene drew a standing ovation. Tinkerbell was saved, as she was every month, the house rescuing her from certain death by their exuberant clapping. All ended in a happily ever after. Peter vowed never to grow up, and, as an angel here in Heaven, he never would.

Next, the cherub choir made their way noisily to the stage from the first three rows, with their director hovering about, attempting an orderly rank and file. In the end, it was useless.

What the choir left behind in the three rows they’d vacated was an assortment of stepped on jelly beans, spilled sodas in colored plastic cups, popcorn, caramel corn, and M&Ms—all favorite snack foods. That was when she learned the little ones loved the rewards of candy and soda, and they were allowed these indulgences without limit. Heaven had rules for its older angels, but the cherubs were literally spoiled at every opportunity.

But the candy and soda made it harder for this choir to stand with freshly starched white choir smocks. Most of them were smudged with colorful smears or spilled drink. Most things in Heaven were perfect, but Father allowed these little imperfections. In Heaven, no two performances were exactly alike.

Violence was never tolerated, and when a little tugging match ensued, four cherubs fell off the stands. Someone was led off the stage by his ear. The rest of the choir got quite distracted by the events and stopped singing, though the pianist hadn’t noticed and for about ten bars exuberantly played a solo. The song had to be started over.

They got a standing ovation, of course.

Ava closed the door to Claire’s straightened room, and wondered if she’d have to do this again. But, she wouldn’t mind. She liked being in her space, basking in the warm light this legendary Guardian spent so much time in.

Come home to us, Claire. Be safe. Come home.

Chapter 22

It was a difficult decision, but Claire knew she needed to seek Father’s advice. She summoned Doris with the message, and had an answer back within an hour. Father would to see her right away, this afternoon. She hoped it would be a quick conversation so she could be back to Daniel by dinnertime. She hated to leave Daniel, but he’d be painting all day and into the evening anyway. He wouldn’t miss her if she left for a few hours.

Daniel focused on work. He needed to finish more paintings, and, because of the windfall sale from the day before, he was out of inventory unless he sold his personal favorites. Now that he had a little cash in the bank, he met with the bank manager, who was clueless when it came to all the problems he’d been having.

“There’s a gremlin in our computer system, I’m sorry to say. And he’s focused on you. I will personally purge it for you.”

Daniel hoped this was true. Perhaps his worries were starting to get behind him. He wouldn’t have to let loose of his favorite paintings to make ends meet. Not just yet. But he would if he had to. The manager offered to hang one up in the lobby. Daniel only thought it fitting to give him one he did of Claire smelling the dusty pink roses at the Farmer’s Market, which was not for sale.

The manager looked at the title, “‘Guardian Angel.’ Nice. We all could use one.”

“I’m hoping she’ll watch over my accounts here.” Daniel was serious.

He had some things to do to get ready for his dream tonight. He wanted to push the envelope a bit with Claire. Used to getting his way with women, he had never pursued an angel before. And when he thought about it, the women had done most of the pursuing, anyway.

But first he had to get some preliminary sketches done. He waved to the bank manager and turned for home.

He was bent over his easel when the girls arrived. One had lifted her shirt and had pressed her bare chest into the glass of his living room window and the other stood with her hands on her hips. Daniel was filled with more alarm than attraction. He seriously preferred to paint. He had completely forgot about Josh’s “gift.”

Knowing they probably would not leave unless he talked to them, he muttered to himself and crossed the room to the front door. He heard bantering and giggles on the other side of the glass window frame.

He didn’t know what to say, but before him stood two absolutely drop-dead gorgeous girls—girls he’d usually consider his type. One was a blonde with shoulder-length hair, accessorized with some of the largest tits he had seen. They looked like they were raging to break out any second. The girl had a tiny waist, but nice hips. Daniel liked curvy girls, liked meat on them, and this one fit his tastes to a “T.” Boy, did Josh know him.

The other girl was a brunette with long hair worn straight at the sides of her face, framed by bangs. This girl had an almost white complexion, highlighted by her luscious red lips. This one, Daniel noted, appeared to be the leader. Her black eyes pinned him before he had a chance to say anything, almost casting a spell on him. For a second, he couldn’t move.

As if releasing the hold she had on Daniel, the dark-haired girl walked past him into the living room, surveying the surroundings. She turned, dropping her long jacket to reveal a see-through pink dress and the absence of underwear.

“Nice, very nice. We can have some fun here,” she cheerily remarked.

“Oh, lookie, Maya, a fireplace!” The blonde ran up to it and raised the back of her skirt to warm her bottom. Daniel didn’t have to look. He knew she probably did not wear underwear as well.

“Ladies…” he wondered if that was the appropriate term. “Ladies, as lovely as you are…” He was sincere, they aroused his healthy maleness as he wasn’t a saint and he wasn’t dead, after all. “I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.” He gave them a mock frown.

The girl in the pink dress with the statuesque alabaster body came directly towards him. Before he knew what was happening, she had him in a lock-lipped suction kiss that left him breathless. And he was getting aroused, no denying it. Her hand to his groin was dangerous, but welcome. It had been awhile since that part of his anatomy had been touched by a female, and it responded like a thirsty animal in the dessert.

“Oh, you are a nice one.” She sighed into him, and he felt suddenly dizzy. His ears began to buzz as he searched her lips and down her long neck to the place between her breasts. This one would be hard to get away from, he thought. And he only halfway wanted to.

But he found the strength inside. “Look, there’s been some kind of mistake. My friend got the wrong impression. I’m really not interested, but thank you anyway. Maybe some other time.” He thought he sounded respectful. Something about this encounter reminded him of the way he began his involvement with Audray. It didn’t make him feel very secure. But something was tugging on his insides, urging him to partake in something that would interfere with his painting, and came up against his strong feelings for the angel. There was a tug of war going on and he wasn’t sure he was winning.

“There’s no mistake.” The brunette slithered closer to Daniel as he walked away from her, backward. “We just want to distract you for a little while.” She stalked him. “We’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Daniel knew they weren’t talking food. And yes, he was hungry too, but for a different sort of companionship.

“No. The answer is no. I’m working tonight and I’m expecting company.”

“We don’t mind. We share if you do.” The blond was cutest when she pouted, Daniel noticed.

Both girls descended upon Daniel, but he cut them off before they touched him again. “Enough! I want you out of here or I’ll call the police.”

He didn’t figure it would scare them, but the strength and resolve in his voice he hoped would get them to stop. He was right. Both girls exited the front doorway, the brunette tracing down his cheek and over his lips with a forefinger.

“You will call me if you change your mind. If you want some private time, you know, just you and me, I’m not opposed to that.” She handed Daniel a business card he refused to take. He pushed her fingers back toward her.

“I’m not interested. Not interested in any of this. You have the wrong guy.”

They slinked their way back to their BMW. The blonde one made the sarcastic comment, “Way I hear it, you got the wrong girl, Daniel.”

He thought about this for awhile as he watched them drive away, waving kisses. He had not mentioned Claire to Josh, although he’d been about to. He thought he would wait a little longer. Even though Josh was his best friend, telling anyone he wanted an angel sounded insane. But how the hell did these two know about Claire if Daniel never said anything about her to anyone?

He decided maybe they were seen together, but couldn’t figure out how that could happen either.

Daniel went back to his sketching. He wanted to get the bones down on paper, and then he needed to run his errands. Claire had said she would be home later than usual.

Father stood tall, dressed in his usual brilliant white shirt and slacks, and looked through the rosette stained glass window overlooking the center. Although he never aged, his white hair seemed whiter today, framing a handsome face with clear blue eyes the color of aquamarine. His office sat atop a green flower-lined knoll, and he had the best view of the Guardianship.

“I am well aware of the dangers in the attraction to the world of Humans,” he said. “After all, I made it,” he continued softly, with a little catch in his throat.

On occasion, Claire had seen emerald and red spires of other worlds in Heaven, but never asked about them. Maybe soon she would. Maybe she would need this knowledge.

She could only see the side of him and his hands folded behind his back. The colors of the glass in the sunlight reflected complicated patterns across his face like the canvas of a colorful painting.

Like one of Daniel’s.

He turned and looked down at her as she sat before him. She noted how his face was full of pain, his eyes moist with centuries of tears shed. These were things she never noticed before. Although never aging, now he seemed especially weary and sad. His demeanor reflected what her heart felt like inside.

“So then, Father,” she began. She folded and unfolded her hands in her lap, as if their icy coldness could warm as she talked. “If you made all these emotions, these possibilities of feelings between my angel life and the life of this … human …” She could hardly get the word out of her mouth. “… Daniel …” Her eyes filled with tears, her throat constricted, and she could say no more. She drew her palms up to hide behind them for a moment. The warm tears flowed through them and dropped silently in her lap.

Claire uncovered her face and watched Father turn back to the stained glass window and close his eyes, as if he was struggling with something. She could tell this was not the talk he had imagined.

“What makes this more difficult, Claire, is I have built free will into your DNA. You have to understand, I mean, it must come as no surprise that I feel a special closeness to you.” He paused again, looking at something in the glass, then following a line up and across the archway. “It is always difficult for a Father—and I am your father in every way but the human way—to do something that is going to hurt his child. But, sometimes we must make decisions in the short term for the health of all involved in the long term.”

Claire sat very still, looking down at her hands again in her lap. She wished now that she had not come back.

“I didn’t consider until today that giving you this free will would land us here, in this position. I knew you would have to make choices. I didn’t understand it would be this painful for you. I probably should have known, but I honestly did not think of it.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” Claire was sincere. She sat still, staring at his back.

“I have to stop the pain from spreading before it gets out of control,” he said, his jaw clenched.

Claire remained silent.

“You bring so much life-force to Heaven. You bring so much love.” His voice broke a little. “Your bright countenance … do you know I miss you when you go on your guardianships?” He turned and looked at her while he said this, his eyebrows upturned.

Claire looked down. She could not return his gaze, did not want to see the pain evident there. Her eyes began to tear up again. Father turned back to the window.

“You walk along a cliff and you look below, aware of the large gash in the earth, and you are afraid. You imagine how it would feel to fall into it, how much it would hurt. You can’t help it, what we call human nature. You revel in its beauty, the power of the danger lurking there, all the time understanding fully that if you jump, you will perish along with memories of everything you love.”

So that was going to be the answer, Claire thought. “But Father, what if everything you valued was lying at the bottom, dead, unable to rise, unable to call out? What if you cannot rescue the only thing in the universe you care about? What then? What keeps me from jumping then?”

Father rushed from the window with a speed that almost frightened her. The full force of his being and his intense turquoise eyes steeled her, as he held her head in his two powerful hands. He drew his face within inches of hers and breathed into her that which had been done some ancient time ago with the making of the first man.

“Life!” he boomed. It vibrated every muscle, bone and tissue of Claire’s body. “You have life and the will to live, always!” She felt suddenly small now, like a child, comprehending the awful truth just spoken. Preserve life was the prime directive. It always has been and always would be.

She closed her eyes, tears starting to flow freely in ribbons, dripping down her gown, staining his hands. She lightly nodded. Father wrapped his huge arms around her, drawing her up off the chair and into his chest. He had never done this to her before. He rocked her from side to side without saying a word. She shuddered in his embrace, knowing he could feel the pain, the fear, and the sadness that rocked her body. She felt the wet part of his shirtsleeve where her tears had found their resting place.

They remained in that embrace until Claire’s eyes could no longer bring forth tears. Only in Father’s arms was Claire partially sure she could go on. She needed his strength, the knowledge that she was loved in the larger sense. At last, she resigned herself to the fact that this calling, her life’s purpose, was worth more than the love of this human, as difficult to admit as it was. But she wondered how she would be able to explain this to Daniel. And could she, really?

And who is going to explain it to my heart?

Father unlocked their embrace and held her at arm’s length, and with his soft, deep voice, spoke to her. “You will go back tonight and tell him. You must find a way, Claire. And then you will come back home to us. You have one week.” He drew her to him again and sighed holding her in his gentle arms.

“What if I can’t do it?” she whispered to his chest.

“Then don’t go back. Stay here now. Someone else can finish the job.”

Claire closed her eyes and drew in her breath suddenly. As difficult as it would be, she couldn’t just abandon Daniel without saying goodbye.

“Alright then. I’m ready,” was all she could manage to say.

Daniel drove home in a festive mood. He ran from the car with a big bouquet of pink roses. He put some in the kitchen in a large glass vase. Others he put on the nightstand next to his bed so Claire would be able to smell them all night while he was in the deep dreamless sleep. He changed the sheets on his bed.

He was a little surprised she did not join him in the shower. He whittled away time, using lots of shampoo and lathering his body twice. Still no trace of her. He wondered if maybe she had returned when the two girls were there. Perhaps she was not coming, after all. Maybe she deemed him unworthy.

He rubbed his body dry, listening, trying to feel her presence. He opened the medicine cabinet and put the lime drops on the palms of his hands and patted his face. He strained to feel anything of her, and then quickly put a fingertip of lime at his belly button. Perhaps they could figure something out there.

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