During the first month without Michael, I felt like a quarter rolling around in an empty piggy bank. My apartment felt hollow and I rattled around it, lost, aimless, and uncomfortable. I hadn’t realized how much time he occupied in my daily life. During the day, I’d go to work and when I got out, he would wait for me. Ever since Belial abducted me, he never let me leave work to catch the bus by myself. I had tried and failed to convince him not to waste valuable money five days a week on the bus fare, but he never listened. On weekends, we went to movies and plays or walked in the park or perused the bookstores to collect literature I didn’t have yet.
The silence killed me. I had my laptop open constantly to play music to combat the quiet. My weekends were spent sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading. I deleted “Golden Brown” from my playlist and avoided every single sentimental love song I could just to stay sane.
My dinners went back to being simple: tuna salad, spaghetti, fajitas, and lasagna. I just didn’t feel like trying new recipes yet.
Lauren immediately knew something was wrong. After a week of my unresponsive behavior, she dragged me into the bathroom at work and demanded to know what was going and where Michael went. I merely told her that we weren’t seeing each other any more because his job took up too much time and he couldn’t be with me. Part of it was true, after all. She believed me and offered her sympathy, promising to take me out to meet guys. I declined the offer. I wasn’t ready yet.
The second month wasn’t as bad as the first, though the urge to start drinking again got worse, so I started attending local AA meetings. Gabriel checked in on me every other week, sometimes by a phone call, other times in person. I never asked him how Michael was doing because I knew, to some degree. While flipping channels, I’d heard about some of his performances on the local entertainment news. The Throwaway Angels were making their way to the top. I didn’t know how I felt about that.
The other problem was that my nightmares got progressively worse, and it wasn’t just dreams about killing Andrew or Mulciber choking me to death. These dreams involved someone who knew my inner darkness and could bring it to life whenever I fell asleep.
I stood in a pure white field, much like the one Andrew and my mother had brought me to, but something was different. Wrong. In front of me stood a pane of glass that was a thousand feet high and a thousand feet across. On the other side, I could see the silhouette of a man walking towards it. I squinted, stepping closer to see. My breath caught as he came into focus.
Michael stood there, his beautiful silver wings flowing from his back, dressed in all black with the most mournful look on his face. He said nothing, merely lifted one hand and pressed it to the glass. I didn’t understand why, but I did the same. I couldn’t feel the warmth from his hand. The windowpane was too thick. God help us.
Then, slowly, the glass began to darken at the corners, spreading downward until it swallowed Michael’s image in a rush of silver. It had turned into a mirror and behind me there was another man. A man in a suit with black hair on either side of his face and a serpentine smile.
I whirled around, a scream building in my throat, as Belial reached out and placed his gloved hands against the mirror, trapping me between them. He was so close that I could smell the metallic scent of blood on his breath.
“Poor, sweet Jordan,” he whispered, his reptilian eyes swallowing my vision. “Without your angel, who will protect your heart?”
He let his gloved fingertips trail down the left side of my neck, resting the palm over the scar just above my breast. The demon leaned in, his lips brushing my ear and making me shiver.
“Will you give it to me or shall I take it?”
“You can chase me for a thousand years. You can hunt me wherever I go, threaten everyone I love, and take away everything I care about…but I will never…ever…give myself to you.” My voice came out clear and harsh, almost brash, but it was the truth.
Belial inhaled sharply, dragging his hot tongue over my pulse. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
His fangs pierced my skin and I screamed until I woke up.
As if the nightmares weren’t stressful enough, Terrell’s family had engaged in a legal battle about where and when to inter his body. Apparently, he hadn’t specified in his will and his mother’s side wanted to bury him with her grandparents, while his father’s side wanted to bury him in their grandparents’ graveyard. The only reason I knew about any of it was because of his sweet younger sister, Grace. Even after we broke up years ago, she never hated me like his mother did and so she called to tell me it would be a while before they got the issue settled. I tried to refuse the invitation, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer, bless her heart.
When the third month rolled around, the depression slackened. I threw myself into work and put more energy towards solving cases. Ghosts poured in at a steady rate. I took extra care to carry my gun, rosary, and a couple vials of holy water with me in case one of the demons resurfaced, but there was no sign of them. Though I did develop an intense fear of cats. Every time I saw one, I hurried off in the opposite direction. Sad, but true.
I also started watching Food Network on a regular basis. I started simple with dinner entrees and then worked my way up to baking. By the end of the month, I could make cornbread, chocolate chip cookies, and banana bread from scratch. I let Gabriel and Raphael try some of them. After that, all of Gabriel’s visits were in person just so he could try whatever new sweets I’d made that week.
By the fourth month, I still didn’t feel busy enough, so I started looking into enrolling in Excelsior College for their Bachelor of Science program for restaurant management. After all, I couldn’t be a waitress forever. Spending time at the restaurant made me realize how much I enjoyed cooking food and being around people while they ate. It would be a while before I’d be able to afford it, though. I made a folder for the pamphlets I found and wrote “Promises to Keep” on it.
It was the end of March before anything related to Michael cropped up. I sat in my kitchen, sharing half of a loaf of banana bread with Lauren after our shift at work. Lily was at the babysitter’s, because Lauren needed to vent about her divorce over sweets. Our conversation had fallen silent for a few comfortable moments before she spoke.
“I need to tell you something, but first you have to promise not to get mad at me,” she said after downing half her glass of milk.
I eyed her. “Go ahead.”
“I bumped into Michael the other night.”
The sudden mention of his name made my heart rate spike. “Oh.”
She dropped her gaze to the table top, folding one corner of her napkin. “We went out for a drink.”
The look on my face must have scared her, because she held up her hands in supplication. “No, no, not like that. He wanted to catch up, not go on a date.”
I relaxed a little. Before he left, Lauren and Michael did get along pretty well so it made sense he’d want to talk to her.
She continued. “I asked him how things were going and he said he pretty much just writes songs, works at Guitar Center, and sleeps. Nothing in between. He’s not seeing anybody, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t,” I said, and she rolled her eyes at me.
“He asked me how you were.”
“What did you tell him?”
Lauren shrugged. “That you were good. Busy.”
The silence mounted. She folded the napkin into a limp little goose. After a while, she sighed. “Jor, he looked awful. Like he hasn’t been sleeping or taking good care of himself. Around other people, he can hold it together, but I could tell he was miserable.”
She met my gaze, her voice soft. “He misses you.”
I closed my eyes. “Lauren…”
“I don’t run your life. I won’t tell you what to do with it because it’s not like I know anything, I mean, I’m getting a divorce. But he’s not the same without you.”
She dug into her purse and withdrew a CD in a plastic sleeve, placing it on the table. “He did a cover of Eels’ ‘Beautiful Freak’ that I think you need to hear. I cried for a week after I heard it.”
“Look, I appreciate that you’re concerned about fixing things between us. I really do. But some things just aren’t going to happen no matter how much we want them to.” My throat started to tighten. Emotions were welling up beneath the surface of my mind, threatening to spill out if we kept talking about him.
“Okay. I just thought you should know.” She stood up, brushing crumbs off the front of her skirt. “I’ve gotta get going. Call me tomorrow.”
“I will. G’night.” She waved and left the apartment. I sat in silence, staring at the CD at my fingertips for a long moment. My mind told me not to listen. It would only open old wounds and smear salt into them. But my hand reached out and placed the disc in the laptop.
It whirred for a few seconds, and then I heard the polite sound of applause. He had recorded this at the Devil’s Paradise, probably, during a live performance. I folded my hands over my mouth and listened to the first few lines.
His voice was heavy and had a rough texture that made shivers roll down my spine. There were some artists that had a polished, pop sound to them. Michael wasn’t one of them. When he sang, he meant every single word.
I couldn’t get through the entire thing. I stopped the recording and pressed my hands over my face, inhaling deeply. No. I wouldn’t backslide when I had come so far. He had his life and I had mine. We would be fine without each other.
No more, no less.
The next day after work, I walked into my apartment, shut the door, and turned around, only to freeze in place.
Michael was standing in my kitchen.
My throat closed up and my entire body seemed to go cold from head to toe as it tried to absorb the shock of seeing him after six months of no contact. No phone calls, no visits, nothing. Part of me wanted to race across the room and catapult into his arms, to bury my nose in his shirt and smell that familiar scent, to have him smile at me and erase any negative thoughts my mind could conjure. But that was just part of me. The rest was hollow.
“Hey, Jordan.” His voice came out soft, meaningful, and hesitant. The words seemed to jolt me out of my paralysis. I realized I’d been standing there staring at him for nearly half a minute. Lauren hadn’t been lying. There were dark smudges under his eyes and his skin had an unhealthy pallor.
I let my face go blank and slid out of the duster, walking towards the kitchen table and draping it over the back of a chair. “What are you doing here, Michael?”
It was hard to concentrate on anything in the room other than him, but I managed as I went to the refrigerator and searched for the food to get my dinner. Chicken salad. Nothing special.
I heard him take a deep breath. “I have something to tell you.”
I sat the Tupperware container of food on the counter. “And you couldn’t tell me over the phone because…?”
He sighed. “Jordan, don’t do this.”
I slammed the door shut, whirling on him. “Don’t. Don’t you tell me what to do. You can’t just waltz in here and expect me not to be upset.”
Michael shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about. You know I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t have something important to say.”
“What makes you think I even want to hear it?”
His green eyes narrowed just barely. “Because if you didn’t, you would have thrown me out already.”
The truth of his words slapped me in the face, rendering me silent. I crossed my arms, leaning against the counter with a cold expression. “Two minutes.”
The angel set his jaw, but nodded. He turned his back on me and ran a hand through his hair—a painfully familiar gesture—then rested his large hands on the counter opposite of me as he spoke.
“Yesterday, Father called me to His side for council.”
Shock crackled through me. From what I’d heard, direct conversation with God was an extremely rare occurrence. His orders were often sent out through the Son, not the Man himself.
Michael paused to let this information absorb before continuing. “When I knelt before Him, He only asked me one thing.”
I couldn’t help myself. “What?”
“Do you love her?”
My heart rate tripled. I dug my fingers into my arms, trying to keep myself from having a panic attack. It was stupid, really. Of course He knew. He was God. But I had never in my life thought that the thing hanging between Michael and me would receive acknowledgment from on high.
Eventually, I managed to calm down enough to ask: “And…what did you say?”
His voice was a mere whisper. “Yes.”
I closed my eyes. It was true. Over the past six months, I had convinced myself that Michael had merely been struggling with his lust for me, but love…it was too scary to even think about. How could someone so pure and just fall in love with me? Didn’t he see the scars? Didn’t he know how bitter and jaded my soul had become?
When I opened my eyes again, Michael had turned around, his handsome face strained as if he were in physical pain when he spoke. “I have no right to love you, Jordan. I want nothing more than to disappear and leave you in peace.”
“Who says I want you to?” I murmured, staring at the floor and rubbing the goosebumps that had appeared on my arms.
“You don’t know what it’s been like since you left. The dreams…God, the dreams…”
Michael stepped towards me, but I held out my hand, stopping him. “The truth is that I don’t know what to do with this information right now, okay? It’s not like He gave you a ultimatum or something—”
“He did.”
My eyes snapped to meet his. “What?”
It was Michael’s turn to look away this time. “He told me…that under normal circumstances, a human and an archangel would never again be allowed to be together. However, because you are a Seer, you aren’t completely human. You’re one of the anointed. Therefore, you could be with me if and only if you agreed to enter the Marriage of the Souls.”
“Marriage of the Souls?”
“We would be bound together for life, both on Earth and in Heaven. But…in exchange for this, we can never…” he faltered.
I touched his cheek, making him meet my gaze like he had so often done to me before.
“Never what?”
His lips just barely moved. “Have children.”
Those two little words sunk into my skin like liquid poison: thick, sickening, and deep. I slumped against the counter, my head pounding as I tried to understand what he’d told me. “That’s some ultimatum.”
He offered me a weak smile. “You can imagine I didn’t get much sleep after He told me.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Jordan, I won’t ask this of you. I came down here to tell you because you deserve to know and to make a decision for yourself. I don’t want this life for you. I don’t want you to have to wait up nights praying that some demon doesn’t get lucky and finally succeed in killing me. If you ask me to leave and never come back, I’ll do it.”
My voice was quiet. “Even though you love me.”
He flinched. “Yes.”
My breath came out in a long sigh. “Michael, you can’t expect me to know what to say to you right now.”
He nodded. “I don’t. I’ll come back tomorrow for your answer. This is an important decision and I want you to truly think about what you want, whether or not it removes me from the picture.”
His head dipped slightly, as if he were bowing, a gesture so formal that it bothered me. His speech, too, was as proper as it was when he’d gotten his memory back. It made me realize that he was speaking as the angel, not the man. The angel who loved me. Me.
I couldn’t find it in myself to say anything as he brushed past me, wrapping my arms around my waist in an attempt to calm myself. The front door clicked shut, leaving me in a deafening silence. Twenty-four hours to make the biggest decision of my life. Where to start?
I wandered into my bedroom and plopped down on the mattress, staring blankly into space as I tried to figure out what to do. His words echoed in my head until I felt dizzy so I finally resolved to do something slightly childish. I grabbed a sheet of notebook paper from the shelf and a pen, folding my legs so that I sat Indian-style on the bed. Time to do what I did in fifth grade when I had a crush and couldn’t decide if I should tell the boy the truth—make a list.
On one side of the paper, I wrote: Reasons Why I Shouldn’t Do It. Not very elegant or insightful, but it was effective enough. I chewed on the pen cap as I started to fill in the reasons.
- He gets on my nerves
- He’s always right
- He’s too damn tall
I paused, scanning the page. Okay, so these were superficial. I was avoiding the real issues, the ones that scared me, the ones that actually made me want to say no to the offer. Slowly, I lifted the pen again.
- He’ll live forever and have to watch me grow old and die
- I’ll never get to be pregnant
- I’ll never get to have an ultrasound
- I’ll never have a baby shower
- I’ll never get to see my hair and Michael’s eyes on our baby.
- I’ll never be alone again
The pen lowered and I stared at the paper, feeling a heavy weight in the center of my chest. Truth be told, I had never really thought about having kids until now. Sure, I liked them, but I always thought that I’d figure it out when I met Mr. Right. Did I want children? Could I handle having children despite my crazy lifestyle? Moreover, would I even want children if Michael wasn’t in the picture?
Now came the even harder part. Moving to the other side of the page, I wrote: Reasons Why I Should Do It. There were only two things under this category.
- Because I love him
- I’ll never be alone again
They were two tiny sentences, and yet just looking at them made my heart race as fast as it had when I’d found Michael in my kitchen. Somehow, seeing the words “I love him” made me want to freak out. I had loved people before—my mother, Lauren, Andrew—but none of them romantically. Terrell had been the closest I’d ever encountered to The One. He had been handsome, smart, and sweet, God rest his soul. No matter what I chose, I would always regret what happened to him because of me. Still, kind though he was, I never loved him.
Truthfully, loving Michael should have been more obvious to me. He made me laugh. He never seemed to grow tired of me. I didn’t have to act perfect around him. He smelled wonderful. He cooked like a god. His music was amazing. His voice was soothing. When he smiled, I felt the world melting at the edges. Yeah. Pretty obvious.
I slumped back against the headboard, curling my fingers into my hair. Well, now what?
I debated on whether I should distract myself by reading or watching a movie. Another thought occurred to me, so I rolled over and grabbed my cell phone, searching through the numbers for one in particular. It rang about seven times and I almost hung up, but then the voice of an elderly woman with a New Orleans accent wheedled in my ear, making me smile.
“I was wondering when my monthly call was coming.”
“Hi, Mrs. Lebeau.”
“Oh, you stop that, child. Use my first name,” she scolded.
I smiled wider, shaking my head. She never changed. I could still see her in my head even now—her perfectly-styled grey wig, her black-frame bifocals, and her cinnamon skin spotted with freckles across her weathered cheeks. Without her, I’d either still be in New Jersey or dead. I never forgot to call her, but I did forget how informal she liked things between us.
“Sorry, Mrs. Selina. Old habits die hard.”
“Mm-hm. How’ve you been, cher?”
I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice level. “Oh…y’know. The same. What about you?”
“Same as always,” she chuckled. “Shop’s doing well. Hired me some new blood. They cause as many problems as they solve.”
“I’ll bet.” I hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“When your husband asked you to marry him…how did you know he was The One? The right one for you?”
“Hmm…that’s a good question. It was so many years ago, but I recall the proposal like it was yesterday. Anthony and I had been together for a whole year before that night. We had just finished dinner and we were leaving the diner. It was raining. I’d forgotten my umbrella, so Tony lent me his jacket. We walked out into the rain. Halfway to the car, the heel of my shoe broke. Now, mind you, these were expensive shoes that he’d saved up a month’s worth of paycheck to buy and the damn pavement ripped it right in half. I started to get upset, and he told me not to worry about it. I asked him why, why wasn’t he upset since he had spent so much on them. He said that it didn’t matter to him one bit, because he was prepared to spend the rest of his life with me and buy me any pair of shoes I could ever want. I’ll never forget that moment. He knelt down, in the middle of a puddle, no less, and pulled out the ring.”
“Weren’t you scared?”
“Child, I was terrified!” She laughed, her voice soft around the edges. “I’d never thought in a million years that he wanted to spend his life with some little girl who owned a candy shop. He was a beat cop. I knew that if I married him, one day I’d lose him, and I did. But the thing is, my dear…his love was worth the risk of losing him. I knew he was the one because as frightened as I was…I still wanted to brave through the pain for him.”
Her words set in, both affirming some things in my mind and stirring others. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
“No problem, cher.”
“I’ll talk to you soon.”
“I’ll be here.” I hung up, staring at the lit surface of my phone for a long moment just before dialing another number. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hey,” Lauren said, sounding energetic despite the fact that she had also worked for eight hours. I envied her in that regard. She always seemed bursting with life.
“Didn’t think you’d be awake. You worked a long shift today.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty beat. Listen, I know you have tomorrow off too, and I was wondering if maybe we could hang out. Y’know, you, me, and Lily?”
“Sure. She hasn’t seen you in a little while and I’d love the company.”
“Good.”
She hesitated. “Are you okay? Your voice sounds kind of…hollow.”
“I’m fine. I’ll meet you at IHOP around ten o’clock, okay?”
“Sounds great. See you then.”
We hung up. I sat the phone on the nightstand, my thoughts churning in my head. Tomorrow morning sounded nice. I had no idea what to do about tonight. How could I get to sleep with something like this on my mind?
Before I even knew it, I was on all fours on my floor, reaching beneath the bed frame for the bottle of whiskey taped to the bottom. I was a faithful member of AA, but I was still human. And I could really use a drink right about now.
I unscrewed the cap, holding the cold glass up to my lips, when I just went still. I stared at the amber liquid, the intricate patterns of the bottle, and felt a wave of disgust rolling up through my chest. No. That was the coward’s way out. I remembered my mother’s words, the ones she’d written on those papers so many years ago, and they were strong and firm with resolve.
I walked into the bathroom and poured the whiskey down the drain. After the last drop fell, I tossed the bottle in the trash and looked at myself in the mirror.
“I will endure.”
“Lily! Would you give the Frisbee back to the dog, please? Thank you!” Lauren watched her overexcited daughter toss the plastic disc back to the begging black lab at her feet. We had been in the park for nearly half an hour, and she had managed to interact with every single animal in the vicinity. The kid was equal parts adorable and exhausting. After breakfast, the three of us caught a matinee kids’ film, went bowling, had lunch, and came here to watch the sunset.
“She’s going to be a vet someday,” I said. “She is way too good with animals, even at her age.”
“Ha, forget that. She needs to pick a cheaper career. I can’t pay for vet school.” Lauren raked a hand through her bangs. We were seated comfortably on a bench nearby, keeping an eye on the munchkin. Silence fell between us until she spoke again.
“Alright, so what’s this really about? I can tell you have something on your mind.”
I fidgeted in my seat, avoiding her intense eye contact. It was against the rules to tell anyone the truth about ghosts, angels, and demons. It would only be allowed if they accidentally witnessed something they weren’t supposed to. Lauren hadn’t. Therefore, I would have to tread lightly.
“I know you and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named got the divorce finalized this year, but I wanted to ask you…”
“Yes?”
“…knowing what you do now about your ex, if you could do it all over again, would you?”
She paused, turning her head to stare out at the park, now illuminated by the fading gold and orange of sunset. “Damn, Jor. I was expecting you to say you were pregnant or something.”
I let out a small laugh. “No, that would mean I had a life.”
She smirked at the comment, and then sighed. “Well…truthfully…the best thing to come out of my screwed up marriage is Lily. She’s beautiful. She’s my life. Her father was just an unpleasant accessory, I suppose. Things got painful and I know I’ll never recover after being married to him, but I guess I would do it all over again if only because I love her so much.”
Lauren then shifted in her seat, her brown eyes narrowing. “Now tell me why you asked me that. What’s going on with you?”
I licked my lips, choosing my words carefully. “I have…a decision to make. A big one. A very big one. I just want a point of reference. I want to make sure I’m not going to regret it for the rest of my life.”
She opened her mouth and I held up a hand. “And I can’t tell you what it is. Not yet, anyway.”
Lauren scowled. “Fine. But I don’t see why you won’t trust your own judgment. Your first instinct is usually the right one. You may be a cranky, asocial hermit crab, but you’re a smart girl. And if this decision involves who I think it involves, you had damn well better say yes or I’ll disown you.”
I tossed her a sarcastic look and she grinned at me. Just then, Lily scampered over to me with a huge smile on her round face.
“Auntie Jordan!”
“Yes, honey?”
She handed me a dandelion, bouncing up and down. “Make a wish!”
I chuckled, accepting the flo