14 comments/ 19035 views/ 16 favorites Angels: Bruises on a Broken Heart By: calibeachgirl Affairs of Angels: Bruises on a Broken Heart A Christmas romance from Calibeachgirl Copyright December 2012 An entry in the 2012 Holiday Contest ...edited by Bill, Deep Blue... * Kevin turned his head to the other side of the car wondering where the quiet tinkle of a glass wind chime was coming from. Unseen, the angel sat next to him watching the traffic which he had forgotten about, making sure the man who had once been her husband was safe. She reached across and kissed his cheek, something that she had longed to do for such a long time, even though she had been watching over him ever since she had to leave him to live alone. Ahead, she saw the old truck lumbering along, carrying the woman that the angel had been waiting for, knowing that the time had finally come for him to love again. Once, such knowledge would have caused her such grief but now she knew better. With another chime in the air, she left Kevin as he held his hand to his face wondering where the angelic touch had come from, so like Lucy's as she had kissed him each night before going to sleep, and appeared in the old truck between the two women. "Oh, no, not again... stupid, stupid truck!" the young woman cried out as the almost ancient Ford pickup slowly rolled to the side of the road, dark brown oily smoke pouring from its engine as it ground to a halt. A moment later, the engine burst into flames, blistering the worn blue paint that shared the truck's hood with three colors of primer. Two women plainly dressed in tired jeans and faded blue sweatshirts jumped out and ran to the back, frantically trying to unload boxes from the truck's bed as the fire grew. Taking on a life of its own, the fire was reaching at least ten feet into the cool California winter sky surrounding the tall eucalyptus trees. To the few drivers passing by, it was obvious that an explosion could kill them both yet no one bothered to help until a car finally stopped behind them and the driver, dressed in Air Force camouflage, hurriedly limped toward the desperate women who were still trying to salvage whatever they could from their burning vehicle... but their efforts seemed to be more in vain than anything else. The ropes they had used to safeguard their possessions were now guaranteeing the loss of everything they had as the fire continued to slowly spread across the top of the cardboard boxes. "Leave it!" he shouted, trying to catch their attention but when they continued to ignore him, he grabbed the nearest one by the waist and dragged her back toward his own car as best he could, hoping the other would follow. She fought him every step of the way, her arms and legs flailing as he pulled her from the blazing truck, still favoring his bad leg. The truck continued to burn, the faded paint peeling away from the darkening metal, the cardboard boxes now on fire also and the black smoke was soon carrying burning remnants of clothing across the road. How they caught on fire, he had no idea; he would have thought they were protected, sitting in the back of the truck. Another car finally stopped, followed by an eighteen-wheeler, its driver running with an extinguisher and a large hunting knife. A few slashes had the ropes cut away and now several drivers amazingly joined to help carry as many boxes away from the fire as possible. A loud wail cut through the air. As he was finally able to get a closer look at the two women crying next to his car he saw they must be mother and daughter. He didn't know how much could be be salvaged but the truck was definitely a total loss; even the front tires were now burning dark sending sticky smoke into the air. In the distance, he heard sirens approaching. Someone must have called... something he had forgotten to do trying to keep the women away from the fire. All his training had disappeared in a matter or moments. How that had happened, he had no clue as he watched the truck continue to angrily burn. A long minute passed, broken only by the loud sound of the front tires popping and going flat as they continued to burn, spewing acrid smoke into the air. By the time the fire truck arrived, the fire except for the tires had burned itself out and some of the boxes had been removed to safety. Enough, he hoped, that they would be able to have enough to start over, wherever they were going. The mother stood on the side of the road now, no longer crying, but the daughter, her face smudged with smoke, looked at him angrily. "You could have..." she started to say and then stopped, pushing him away with all her strength. Whatever she was going to say disappeared with her tears. "It's all gone..." she said to herself, pushing the words through clenched teeth, "...all gone." She tried to wipe away the smudges from her face and ran her hand through her dark, sun-streaked copper hair. She sighed as the disappointment rushed over her again, just as it had when they had packed everything they owned and fled north from her mother's abusive boyfriend. All her dreams, all the plans they had made, seemed to disappear in the oily smoke that rose into the now cold sky. Her full lips trembling, she wiped away a tear. They had depleted their savings and were counting every penny and now, this. Actually, he thought, not so much. True, there was damage but it seemed to be much less than even he originally thought. It could be worse. "Don't cry," he tried to say, realizing how inane it sounded and thought she looked so beautiful. Too beautiful for someone like him... The angel watched, satisfied that she had chosen well and with another sounding of chimes, disappeared into the smoke that still lingered. Following a quick call, the next hour was filled with watching the firefighters washing down the area and waiting for the tow truck to arrive. He handed over his AAA card to the middle-aged, ponytailed man and got directions to the lot where the truck was being taken. "I'm sure," he told the two women, "that you'll be able to have your insurance cover this..." But, as soon as he said it, he knew that that wasn't to be the case. Insurance on such an old truck would be negligible, if at all. And, how to cover whatever had been in the boxes? No, he thought, their loss would be heartfelt and severe. The way things were, he thought ruefully, whatever dreams they had were now up in smoke along with their belongings. "Look, do you have some place to stay? There's a Motel 6..." He stopped talking as the two women stared at him, almost as if what he was saying was foolish. "Say, I've got a room at my house if you want... you know, to spend the night... until someone can... uh, come for you." "Thank you, mister..." Soft silky hair, the color of copper gleaming in the California winter sun, framed her delicate face. But it was more than the soft swell of her breasts, the slender indentation of her waist, curvy hips and long legs that caught his attention; it was the sad look of her eyes as she saw what was left of their truck being pulled onto the flatbed tow truck. "Colonel... Kevin... just call me Kevin." How could he become so tongue-tied? By that time, as many as possible of the boxes had been piled into the back seat of his car and trunk and after a quick trip to his house, they drove over to the impound lot to get the rest. He wondered how long it would take to get the smell of smoke and damp cardboard out of his car. Just something to worry about... or, was it? Did it really matter, he wondered. It was early afternoon before everything had been taken care of and he wondered how the lack of insurance was going to affect the situation. For the moment, he decided to be silent about it. Bad news just a few days before Christmas wasn't anything he wished on anyone, especially the young woman standing before him. "Well," he started, "where were you going?" Where, indeed? The daughter looked at him quietly, as if wondering what to say, almost as if she was afraid to say anything to him and hesitated before finally speaking. She thought back to the man lying on the floor in her bedroom, blood flowing from his head surrounded by the broken glass vase, its pieces scattered across the room. It had happened so fast, she remembered, hitting him as he came into where she had been sleeping. It had been hard enough, she knew, pretending to ignore what he had been doing to her mother but when he finally set his eyes on her... "We were heading toward Portland, you know, Oregon... from Texas. My uncle Joseph lives there. He's my mother's cousin but we call him 'Uncle.' We were hoping to live with him... for a while, at least." She wondered if the bleeding man had called the police... or, if he was still alive... not that she cared too much. "Just in time for Christmas in California..." Kevin said, trying to smile. "We were tired of the heat." She still saw the blood in her mind's eye. "You'll like Oregon in early summer... the wildflowers are in bloom. Do you want to call him?" Kevin pulled his cell out from his pocket, figuring that they didn't have one of their own to use. "Thank you, uh, Kevin. Yes, please," the older woman said, reaching out. He gave the mother the phone and went into the kitchen, looking for something he could offer them to eat. Living as a bachelor had its good aspects and its bad aspects and the unexpected arrival of two guests highlighted one of the bad aspects... the lack of food fit for guests. He glanced over at the kitchen trash can filled with many empty frozen food containers... could it really be a week's worth, he wondered. His gaze continued over to the microwave over and embarrassed, he knew at the very least, he'd have to wait until the woman was off the phone before he could make a decision on what to do. He sighed and put the dish he carried onto the table, giving up the idea of eating any dinner at the house. "Kevin... I mean, excuse me. Here's your phone." It was the daughter, her hand out with his phone. She looked miserable, even more so than before, as if she were thinking of something distasteful, something horrible to remember. He put his phone back into his pocket. "Were you able to reach your uncle?" he asked, knowing the answer from the look on the face of the mother. "No. The number doesn't work anymore. I called information but there was nothing. I don't know what we're going to do now." The woman moved from one foot to the other as if unsure what to do next. "Well, right now, I think we need to get something to eat. Is your mother, it is your mother, right? Is she OK?" It had to be her mother, he thought... who else could it be? "I don't know. Mom is still in shock, I think. That truck was all we had and now it's gone." She felt her whole life was gone. Were the police looking for them? For her? He looked at her, feeling there was something else... "Anyway, let's get something to eat after you wash up. Time is going by way too fast and I'm sure you're both hungry." In desperate need for some rest from what turned out to be a very different, busy day, Kevin drove to the nearby Red Lobster. After all that happened, he somehow felt he needed to have some of the cheese biscuits they had and he began to wonder when was the last time the two women had had a decent meal... or, at least, a filling one from a restaurant. Several police cars quickly passed them, sirens blaring and both women moved lower in their seats, as if to hide, quickly looking to see if he noticed. --------- After their drinks had arrived, the women ordered tilapia dinners while he had the stuffed sole. "Remember, my treat," Kevin said, taking a long, well-needed drink of his iced tea and then wiping his wet fingers on his napkin. He looked at the server. "I would like butter with my biscuits, please, and more sugar for my tea." Turning his attention back to the two women sitting across from him in the booth, he finally asked, "So, maybe it's time that I formerly introduce myself. I'm Kevin Calavese, Colonel Kevin Calavese, U.S. Air Force. Uh, mi casa es su casa." The daughter was much more outspoken than her quiet mother who still had a tired look about her. "I am Mary Ellen Carlson and this... this is my mother, Florence . We've come north... well, we were supposed to be with Uncle Joseph but now..." She became quiet and looked at her mother as if wondering whether she should say something more... wondering if her mother would say something and give away her secret. Kevin took another drink, the wet glass dripping onto the tabletop. "What do you want to do about the truck?" he asked, wondering about it himself. "I don't know," Mary said. "I guess it's a total loss. We certainly can't pay to fix it." Her wide eyes sparkled and he saw that she was near tears again. She looked at him, wondering how with everything that had happened, she was finding herself attracted to him, unlike her mother who must be working hard to control her nervousness. It had to be the stress, she believed, that was it, even if the impossible happened and they became friends, more than friends. The day had become so traumatic. How could she think of him as more than a friend? It was just a question of moving on, wasn't it? "I've an idea," he ventured, looking at the mother, trying to bring her into the conversation. "I'll have it towed over to the local high school and see what the boys in auto body can do with it after the holidays. At the very least, it'll be somewhere safe and we won't be paying any storage fees." "You've already been too kind to us," Mary said, trying to smile at him. How, she wondered, was such a good-looking man still single? Perhaps, she thought, he was 'gay.' What was she thinking? Why did it matter what the man was? In a few days, he would be just a memory, that's all, as soon as they moved on... The food arrived just then, stopping conversation for a while. He didn't realize he was as hungry as he was and he could tell from the way mother and daughter started on their salads that they were famished, convincing him that they had probably not eaten well in at least a day or two... probably longer than that if their truck was any indication of their finances. "With your... that is, with Uncle Joe unreachable and your truck out of commission, you're going to need a place to stay and a job. Tell you what... if you want, you can stay with me, be my housekeepers, so to speak. Room and board, some spending cash, at least until you can figure out what you want to do. How's that?" He became silent, somehow hoping they would accept his offer. The two women put their heads together and conversed quietly but rapidly for several minutes, the daughter doing most of the talking. Once in a while, one or the other would look up and watch him. Kevin, for his part, buttered another biscuit and slowly chewed it between taking drinks of his iced tea. What had he been thinking, offering them a place to stay? What if they accepted? What if they didn't? He wondered if introducing them to his friend, the high school campus priest, would be enough to assuage their misgivings. If they didn't trust him after that, he didn't know what to do and they would be on their own. God and country... what else could he do? The fish plates arrived and he squeezed lemon on his, waiting for their answer, absentmindedly wondering if he should have started with some tartar sauce. "We will trust you, Kevin... thank you for dinner." The mother finally quietly spoke. He was so surprised he almost asked her to repeat herself. "My pleasure. Before we go home, we'll have to remember to take care of the truck." ---------- As he left the parking lot, he changed the station to the oldies station and was greeted by the Ronettes... "...do I love you?" It was an age-old question that drove every human emotion and would that question ever be truly answered? As he listened to it, he remembered how much his wife had loved the Ronettes. It had been years since he had heard the song. Why now, he wondered. That early evening, following grocery shopping at Wal-Mart, the two women were busy hanging clothes outside on the line after washing the smoky smells from their clothing salvaged from the fire. The late evening's breeze quickly dried their clothing and Kevin showed them the two rooms they could have... the two rooms he once thought were going to be filled with children, at least one. Now, they had visitors. How his life had changed... changed in just a few moments, once again. The angel went down the hallway, visiting one room after another, something that she had done each night for years, wishing that things had been different. ---------- The kitchen was empty when Mary entered early the next morning, zipping up her sweatshirt. There was no coffee, no sign of life, and she wondered where her mother was. Kevin was going to be up soon and there should be some kind of breakfast waiting for him. She looked out the window through the darkness at the orange trees in his backyard and stepped out the back door to watch the setting moon in the southwestern sky for a moment before the crisp morning air pushed her back into the house. She found the coffee jar on the counter next to the coffeemaker and removing the lid she inhaled the dense aroma and scooped out enough for a full pot. She heard a sigh and turned to look but never saw the angel hovering near the corner of the kitchen, watching her hopefully. Mary leaned back against the counter as the dark brew began to perk. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen reflected its 1950s origins, so unlike the sad apartment they had fled in Phoenix. Her gaze traveled around the room, missing nothing... the light colored walls, the white cabinets, the copper pots hanging on the wall above the dinette... it was homey, solid, comforting... everything she had been missing in her life. What was she willing to give in order to keep something like this, she wondered. What a difference from what they had left behind, especially the fear. She looked at the small, lonely cactus sitting above the kitchen sink by the window, always amazed how plants like it could survive neglected and gave it some water which quickly soaked into the dry soil. Its small yellow flower seemed to smile in thanks. She decided to find it a companion. Mary opened the refrigerator door, listening to its swishing sound and pulled out the gallon of milk inside to fill her coffee mug halfway. After putting the milk away, she filled the rest of the mug with coffee, sighing with contentment as she began to mix up some pancake batter. Kevin quietly walked in, still buttoning his un-tucked shirt and seemed to startle her with his presence. "Good morning..." he said, taking in the unfamiliar scene. For some reason, he felt something he had missed ever since his wife had died and he was content to accept Mary's presence. "Sit down and I'll fix you some pancakes," Mary said, hesitantly gesturing to the batter waiting next to the stove. "I couldn't find a waffle iron but I could look again if you want." The angel smiled, knowing his answer. "Thanks. Two are plenty," he replied, sitting down at the table, watching her work at the stove. Florence walked in, still pulling her robe tightly about her. She slowly went to the refrigerator, opened the freezer and pulled out an ice tray, dropped three cubes into a glass on the counter and then poured orange juice into the glass. Putting the juice away, she moved toward the table and sat as far away from Kevin as possible and still be at the table. "Come," Mary said, "and have some pancakes, Mom." "Pancakes? All right..." Kevin could tell there was still a hesitation in her manner. "Good morning, Kevin. I hope you slept well." She took a paper napkin from the lopsided pile on the table, laughing as it fell over. It seemed almost forced to his ears as he watched her straighten up the pile. Angels: Bruises on a Broken Heart What was he to say, he wondered; the presence of a woman, well... women, for the first time in the house in years and it was all he could think about? "Morning... pancakes sure smell good," he said, now looking down at the plate set before him. Three pancakes, which he quickly covered with melting butter and honey. "Mary, these look delicious, thank you." He took a bite, the honey slowly dripping back onto the plate from his fork. "I'm glad you like them," Mary answered. "What would you like tomorrow?" She poured another pancake, listening to the sizzle of the batter as it fried on the skillet, reminding her of another kitchen far away. "Surprise me." He looked at the clock on the microwave and hurriedly finished his breakfast. "I've got to go. I'll see you later. Thanks." He stood up and placed his dish into the sink. After he walked out, she took an orange from the refrigerator and peeled it, throwing the long rind into the kitchen trash as she ate the juicy fruit. It had been months since she had had one and the memory wasn't as sweet as the real thing. She wondered how her mother really felt. It had to be better, now, even if... The angel watched the woman eat the orange, her memory bringing the taste back to her, her mouth watering. It had been so long, she thought. ---------- "I see you have cocoa," Mary said, nodding toward the kitchen table that evening. "Do you mind if I made some?" She moved toward the table, picking up the teaspoon lying there without waiting for an answer. "Cocoa and Christmas... all we need is some cookies, which I happened to have made, today." She walked to the counter and picked up the plate of sugar cookies. "Here," she said, offering the dish to him, waiting as he took two. He was acutely aware of her movements as she spooned cocoa into a cup and added hot water, sadness still in her eyes. "If it's all the same," she said, "I'm going to bed. It's been a long day. Thank you for everything you've done." It was not going to happen. He was not going to kiss her... and then, he touched his lips lightly to hers once and then again. The next thing she knew, her eyes were closed and his lips were on hers, nudging them apart. It was the kind of kiss you saw in the movies, not in real life, making her tingle, rocking her to her very soul... making her want... need... desire. She had never felt such desire for a man before or experienced anything so wonderful and dangerous and so, so right. He watched her disappear quickly down the darkened hallway, his thoughts remembering back to the last time he saw his wife in the same hallway, the night before she died. If he could, he would have seen the angel shed a quiet tear, something she had thought would not happen, sure that she was able to accept the change of heart she was sure was best for him. Still, it hurt, no matter how much she had tried to convince herself otherwise. In her bedroom, Mary grasped a clump of the extra fabric around her waist, trying to figure out how many pounds she lost since she had worn them last. Ten? Fifteen? She released the fabric so the jeans hung loosely on her hips. Her reflection in the mirror didn't offer a lot of reassurance. The last few years had been hard on her... hard on both her and her mother. Was it over? She had no way of knowing, this far from home. Maybe it was... The way Kevin looked at her... as if he had known what it was like to make love to her... sent shivers down her spine. Tomorrow, she thought, she would start over, a new life. ---------- Kevin woke early the next morning to the mouth-watering smell of eggs and bacon filling the house. "Wha?" he muttered, wiping the sleep from his eyes before remembering he had houseguests, if that was what they were. Quickly shaving, showering and dressing, he entered the kitchen and was greeted by a shyly smiling Florence. "Good morning, Kevin. I'll have your eggs ready for you in a minute." She then put two pieces of sourdough toast on a plate and followed them a few moments later with a Denver omelet, its melted cheese oozing out. Her manner, he noticed, had changed from the day before when she had practically avoided him the entire time. He had been so tired the other day; he didn't remember buying any mozzarella at the grocery. "I'll be home about 4:30, five o'clock. Make yourself at home." Well, that was stupid, he thought, what else were they to do? Florence took the leftover food and slid it into the refrigerator for lunch. He didn't eat as much as she thought he would. All day, he second-guessed his decision about letting the women live with him and was pleasantly surprised when he came home to find his home cleaner than it had ever been since the accident, the shiny windows open and the bedding changed in his room, the rugs showing the track of the vacuum cleaner. Somehow, even his dress uniform, long unworn, had had the dust taken away, the medals shined. On his dresser, he noticed that the wedding picture, pushed back for the last few years to the corner, had been wiped clean of dust and placed closer to the front. He wondered what they had thought of that. He took the picture of Lucy and moved it back toward the corner. It had taken this long to overcome the grief following the accident. He had wanted a home and a family and she had liked gardening and had so wanted children. Now, everything in the back yard was dead or dying and the rooms had remained empty... until now. Goddamn drunk driver, he cursed under his breath, not even a scratch on him while his pregnant wife had been killed. He never even got a chance to say 'good-bye' and he so wanted to kill the man. It was then he stopped believing in God... at least, a personal God that worried about people and their hopes and dreams. Even now, he was counting the days until the man was released from prison. He still considered stopping by for a visit... just to let him know he was waiting... waiting... just to let him know... just to give him something to think about... something to worry about. All that training had to be good for something, even if it was just to scare the living crap out of that miserable... Perhaps he had not overcome his grief and anger as much as he thought. His angel stood next to him, feeling his pain. In the years gone by, she had tried over and over to help him past his anguish, many times taking that torment to herself when she knew it was more than he could bear by himself. ---------- Dinner was roast chicken with corn on the cob and garlic mashed potatoes and if there had been a question regarding the photo, no mention had been made. He decided to let it be. It was hard enough, things as they were, without discussing it and bringing it back to the present. After dinner, he opened his laptop and worked on his monthly report, holiday or not, carefully backing everything up on his external hard drive. His promotion had resulted in more paperwork than he could have ever imagined and the loss of the one thing he truly enjoyed. Looking up, he saw a silent and dark house. It was after eleven o'clock and he groaned. Five o'clock in the morning came early enough, no matter how late he went to bed and today, he realized, was no different. He wished he could get some sleep. Having the women in the house was making sleep impossible and when he did, dreams of what had been and what might have been filled his nights. It was at times like this that he felt the memory of his wife come alive, as if she were still with him. If he were a man that believed in ghosts... "...if you lose your one... and only..." the radio played as he undressed for bed, caught up in his own sadness. Would it ever go away? He wondered... probably not... at least not tonight, he thought. ---------- "Good morning, Lieutenant," Kevin said to his secretary, trying to stifle a yawn that had followed him all the way from the house. Why couldn't he sleep? It was driving him crazy. His angel was there, watching the two speak as they had every morning for the last year. At one time, the lieutenant was a good choice but the rules and regulations made that impossible, especially when the angel knew the young woman was never going to leave the service. The young woman looked up from her computer. "Good morning, Colonel. It's been quiet... so far." It was a standing joke between the two; the military never had a simple day, it was impossible given the number of people involved, even if it was only a few days before Christmas... and the satellites kept their orbits, regardless of whatever was happening on the ground. Sometimes, he thought, if it weren't for the long walks from one end of the building to the other, he wouldn't get any exercise at all. He put a hand to his stomach, deciding once again to leave the Snickers alone. It wasn't too bad but it could be if he wasn't careful. Maybe switch to peanut M&Ms? Maybe, just leave them all alone... Problem was, he knew he needed the sugar jolt the candy bars gave him during his long hours. He just wished his wife had lived long enough to see it. The dreams they had had died that day. He should have known better than to hope for something wonderful. It was as if nothing truly good ever came his way, no matter how hard he tried. Kevin walked over to the parking lot gate. He wondered how his 'guests' were doing at the house and wondered again just what he was doing, inviting them to stay with him. He shook his head and turned back toward the main building, accompanied by his angel who had made the trip with him ever since that day she had to leave him. The building was silent no matter what was transpiring inside... no matter what dark secrets it hid. He made the long walk back to his office, looking into one room after another, occasionally stopping to pick up some litter in the hallway and after reaching his office, he finally brought up his email account. Sometimes, he thought, giving out an email address didn't seem like the smartest thing in the world to do. Eleven-thirty arrived and with three more reports done he made his way over to the cafeteria. How had it come time for lunch so quickly? Five more hours, he thought, and the day was officially over for him, although, he realized, his day was going to push all the way until six because of... because of what? He needed to remember to call home and let them know he was going to be late and then realized they had no phone. He should have set up a calendar for them, he thought. Now, he'd have to drive home to let them know. He walked back to the main office, told them he'd be gone for an hour and drove home. If they were going to stay with him, he'd need to get them a phone. If nothing else, it would have saved him a trip home. ---------- Mary was vacuuming the dark green rug, again. Even though she had done it twice already, she felt she owed Kevin something more than just a cursory cleaning of his house. She wasn't sure how often he had changed his bedding but decided that every three days seemed like a good choice. Nothing felt as good as fresh sheets. She looked again at the wedding photo sitting on his dresser, noticing that he had once again pushed it back toward the corner. The poor woman must have died, she thought. If Kevin was divorced, he wouldn't have a photo in his bedroom, would he? Surely, no man would subject himself to such emotional punishment. Besides, he had the house. No, the poor woman must have died, somehow. When and how, though, would remain a mystery, she knew, until he decided to share such a personal bit of information. Everyone had their secrets, didn't they? Mary looked through the living room curtains once again, wondering if they had been followed to Kevin's house, no matter how silly that seemed to anyone else. She couldn't seem to shake the feeling that she was being watched, even though she knew that wasn't possible, was it? The angel reached out, touching her, bringing a sense of calm and safety that had been lacking for so long in her life. In the kitchen, Florence was listening to the small television on the counter as she washed dishes from the cupboard. There was no word from Phoenix, not that she expected anything. Even if he were dead, a murder in Arizona hardly was worth mentioning in Los Angeles. Yesterday, she had carefully hand-washed what must have been wedding china. The house, while not dirty, showed the benign neglect expected from a single man... a single, lonely man. And, there was that gray and white cat. Was it his? It had stayed on the back porch when she had walked out to hang laundry and she looked but couldn't find any cat food in the house. She opened a small can of tuna and set it out for the animal who looked as hungry as any cat she had ever seen, laughing as she did for the poor cat immediately ran over and began eating. As she moved back into the kitchen, the animal moved carefully between her ankles and then stretched out near the warm oven, giving a now-friendly purr as it closed its eyes and went to sleep. Tomorrow, Florence told herself, they would start seeing what they could do with the backyard, throwing away the dead plants and seeing if they could save the ones that were still trying to live. It wasn't too late for some of them. It wasn't too late, she hoped, for her daughter... or for him. Was it? The pain in his heart, she decided, had to have taken over his life to the exclusion of everything else. The poor man... he needed a wife, Florence thought, someone like her Mary. She reached for another cup, humming tunelessly as she gently washed the light dust away from it before putting it into the dishwasher. Maybe that was only a hopeless daydream... but, maybe not. Who knew what the 'morrow would bring? The front door opened and Kevin walked in to see the two women hard at work cleaning the house. An apple pie cooled on the kitchen counter and the smell of cinnamon filled the house. In truth, he had not expected them to work this hard when he offered them a place to stay and realized that whatever money he was going to give them wasn't enough for what they were doing. He looked at himself in the hall mirror and lifted his shoulders in an expressive shrug. Christmas was only three days away. He would address the money issue then... unless something came up at the base and he never came home. It had happened, he remembered, spoiling his first married Christmas and he was greeted with tears two days later when he finally returned. "I'll be home late, tonight. I won't be needing any dinner. This weekend, we'll get a phone for you to use and I'll give you a schedule." As much as he felt he should share the reason for his late evening, he knew he couldn't. "OK, Kevin, no dinner tonight." Florence looked at the full refrigerator, already holding dinner for the evening. Later, when he came home, he might think differently, she thought. For a moment, she hated reality and wished that life had been different. Her daughter had once been on the way to a Masters' degree and then it had all happened. ---------- Somehow, he worked his way through the weekly meeting. He would have rather eaten with the two women that had somehow made their way into his life. How it was possible he felt that way after just a few days was beyond him. Shouldn't a relationship, if that was what it was, take longer? Shouldn't it? Surely, his crush on her would fade away, wouldn't it? He was confused and worried about his feelings. He couldn't think of her as unpaid labor. When she had laughed, that one time, it was as if small bells had sounded. Kevin pulled into his driveway close to eight and slowly walked to the front door, tired more than usual, his camouflaged coat draped loosely over his arm. He heard music as he opened the door, a change from the usual silent greeting each evening. A slight grin crossed his face. He never expected the Beach Boys to welcome him home. California girls... the California dream... something he still felt he had lost. From the kitchen he heard singing, keeping in tune with the music reminding him of his wife. "Oh! You surprised me. I've saved you some chicken enchiladas," Mary said. "I didn't know how much you had for dinner." She gestured toward the kitchen table, still set for dinner, fully expecting him to sit down and eat. There were those bells again in her laughter. Kevin was going to protest, saying that he was full but remained quiet. He didn't want to be impolite and the smell... the smell was so good. It had been so, so long since he had had a home-cooked meal two days in a row. He became hungry, his mouth watering at the newly anticipated tastes awaiting him. "Thank you. I'll just wash up." He put his coat on the back of his chair and went to the kitchen sink to wash his hands, glad the long day was over. These long weeks were killing him although before Mary and her mother had arrived, they had just seemed to fill the time. "I..." he started to say, turning back toward the table when he bumped into her, her body molding itself to his. It had been so long since he had felt a woman next to him, even if only for a moment, even if only innocently. "I'm sorry," he quickly said, suddenly fatigued. "Please, excuse me," he said softly, his low sexy voice doing strange things to her. Mary gazed at Kevin, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. Tension stretched between them like a taut rubber band as he slowly pushed himself away. He shifted his stance and shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels as she began to clear the table. A stab of pain pierced her heart, along with a familiar, stifling sense of inadequacy. He was the first man to... how could she delude herself into thinking a man like him would be interested in a woman like her for long, if at all? She had been badly burned in the game of love. She was as dull as could be, wasn't that what she had been told by John? She should have known it was only a matter of time before he would have grown tired of a boring homebody like her... still a virgin, even now. She had no desire to be loose, no matter how lonely it caused her to be. Except for her hair, there was nothing spectacular about her. She was short and somewhat skinny, she thought. Mary turned her attention back to the kitchen tasks awaiting her. Housework was all she was good for ever since John had destroyed her. How could he be so cruel? If he didn't love her, why not just say so and leave rather than tear apart her life piece by piece until there was nothing left? How could mother and daughter both find abusive companions? "Oh, God," she said to herself, "what am I going to do?" Another tear slipped down her cheek. Her mother was working diligently in the hallway, taking linens from the closet, bath items for the shower, more sheets and blankets for the bed as the cool California winter approached. "Good evening, Kevin," she said, as he approached. "Evening," he replied, putting his hand on her shoulder, seeking that personal touch only another human could give. He had been alone too long and now knew it. ---------- It was only after driving for a while did he think about what people were going to think all weekend when they saw him with a woman, especially one as cute as Mary. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. And then he realized he didn't care. He had been alone far too long. That's what he thought. He would ask her to the basketball game at the school. ----- They stopped for dinner at a Fifty's diner that had opened a year earlier a few miles from the game. Kevin looked at his plate piled high with fries and ketchup, wondering if he was killing himself eating such food. Maybe he should have ordered a salad but then he looked at Mary's face as she bit into her hamburger, a big smile on her face. It had been so long since he had eaten out with a woman without business also on the table. The last time... the last time was with Marilyn and even then, it had been about some new satellites. Angels: Bruises on a Broken Heart "What?" she asked, her tongue seductively wiping mustard from her lips. "Nothing. You look happy, that's all. How are things working out? Everything OK?" "Yes, thank you. You have been very kind." She took another bite, looking across the table at him, giving him a smile even though she had a full mouth. She giggled, feeling like a schoolgirl. It had been so long for her. Working for him was going to be all right, she was sure of it. The angel took a French fry when no one was looking, missing the taste she had enjoyed for so many years. The only one who noticed was a two-year old girl at the next table, quiet for the first time all day as she watched the angel in gold and white robes slowly fade away. ---------- Mary watched the tournament game without really seeing it, her attention on Kevin the whole time, even when he asked her if she wanted nachos or popcorn and she had to ask him to repeat his question. The number of people that kept coming to shake his hand amazed her. Everyone wanted to talk to Kevin and he introduced her to everyone he spoke to. Was this what it was like to have someone care, she wondered. Was this what it would be like to be married to him? Was it? Suddenly, she wanted to know, even if just in her dreams. How could she dream of such a thing? Even though he was friendly, he was still... what was he? Her employer, surely, even if for something as simple as housekeeping. He was a man, a highly educated man, who had hundreds of people depending on him. What was she compared to all that? "Well," he said, on the way home, "what did you think?" "It was exciting," she replied, hoping that was the right answer. Other than the fact that his old school had won easily, she really hadn't paid much attention to what happened on the court, more interested in what was happening every time someone came to talk to him. The evening had turned into a never-ending social event as alumni and parents vied for his attention. "Want to stop for ice cream?" he asked, looking sideways as he drove. "Ice cream?" Wasn't it too late? "Sure, why not?" His right hand reached out to touch her, seeking the warmth. A few minutes later, he was pulling into the restaurant's parking lot. "They have a good hot fudge sundae here. You'll like it." "That sounds great. Thank you." Ice cream? It was close to eleven o'clock! What a strange life he led. Walking in, he wrapped an arm around her waist and looked at her happily. After they were seated and ordered, thankfully away from a loud crowd of teenagers who seemed to be from the other school, he asked, "How are things going? Is everything all right with you and your mother?" 'Yes, thank you. We are very grateful for your help." "Bill, he's the auto body teacher at the school, says that your truck isn't as bad as it might seem. It's going to need some new body panels and paint and the engine needs a lot of work but it's all doable. It might be cheaper to just drop a new one in. It's just going to take a while but then, the labor is free. He thinks it's worth the trouble." "What do you think?" She took another bite of ice cream. With effort, Mary tried to ignore the tremor of sexual tension wavering between them. She had not felt this way since... since she was going to marry John. It was time to admit it, she realized, that she was very attracted to Kevin even if she could never admit it to anyone else. "Well, you're going to need a car." Would she leave, when the truck was finished? He didn't like that idea... not at all. But, what was he to do? He didn't own her. Mary looked at him. Was he hoping they'd leave when the truck was finished? Was he already sorry he offered a place to stay? She looked down at her dish, afraid to look directly at him. What if? What if? She lost her appetite for the ice cream and watched it melt, the cream slowly filling the bowl and mixing with the fudge as she stared silently at it, wondering why she had so suddenly felt lost. ---------- Kevin read Saturday morning's article about the game, realizing that he didn't remember a single thing about what had happened the night before. Between talking to people and watching Mary, it was as if he wasn't even there. Even now, the sports writers were talking a possible state championship but he was wary of such early predictions. Talk like that was sure to jinx whatever chances the team had if the players let it go to their heads. He expected the phones at the school would be ringing Monday morning but then he remembered it would be Christmas morning. Even now, the papers were highlighting the athletes, something the coach had tried to stop, saying that it was a 'team' effort. Nothing was worse for a team than to have jealousy rear its ugly head. How so like the military, he thought. Kevin closed his eyes for a moment, letting the newspaper fall to his lap. Something had happened last night, he knew, something bad. Mary was in a good mood until... until what? Something happened right after he asked about her truck and then she had become silent, not even finishing her sundae. The ride back to the house had been deathly quiet, worse than being by himself. The aroma of chocolate chip cookies filled the air. Ever since they had taken over cooking, the house was full of good smells that watered his mouth the moment he walked in. There was a cherry pie sitting on top of the stove cooling. He bent over and looked closely at the flaky crust knowing it would melt in his mouth once he got the opportunity to taste it. He was filled with a newfound hunger... for Mary and her food. He walked into his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. He picked up the photo that beckoned to him, seemingly waiting for him all this time. "Lucy," he said, almost a prayer from his lips, wishing that she was still with him, all these years later. Their child would have been four and full of life and Christmas would mean so much more than it had the last few years. He leaned a shoulder against the door frame and let out a deep sigh. There was a sound and he turned to see Mary standing there, waiting for something next to the now opened door. Kevin lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, wishing to restore what they had had the night before... before she had pulled away. Something had happened but... what? His gaze wandered over her face. She moved closer to become a part of him, drawn by his warmth, captivated by the idea of kissing him as he drew her lower lip into his mouth and sucked. She opened her mouth to drink him in and he deepened the kiss, swallowing her moan. She wasn't sure where it would have led if several things had not happened at once. His cell phone shrilly called him, so loud it caused her to jerk her head away... and, her mother turned the corner of the hallway and walked toward them, causing Mary's cheeks to flame so badly she was sure they were neon-red. Thankfully, her mother said nothing and seemed not to notice. Maybe the hallway was just too dark. ----------- Kevin wanted to leave the house. He wanted ribs. Not pork ribs but beef ribs. Long, full of meat, saucy beef ribs. Would she want to go with him? Why was he having such trouble interacting with her when all he wanted to do was be her friend? Was that true? Was that all he wanted? He wanted more. He glanced at the wall clock. It was almost eleven and he could hear sounds coming from the kitchen. If they were going to leave it would have to be now, before the two of them started cooking whatever they had planned for lunch. "Mary! Florence! We're going out to eat, c'mon, close up the house!" He walked around, closing windows without waiting for an answer. Whatever noises had been coming from the kitchen stopped and he could hear other windows closing. One or the other had gone to the bedroom, ostensibly to change clothes. He walked through the house, checking each room, waiting for them to finish whatever they were doing. "You'll like this place," he said. "They have the best beef ribs. I haven't been in a while, I don't know why. I guess I didn't have anyone to..." He stopped talking and waited by the front door, knowing full well why he hadn't gone to the restaurant. It was the last time he had gone out with his wife, their last date. He could still taste her, smell her. Their 'late' arrival for lunch found them waiting almost a half-hour as the restaurant was filled with holiday shoppers celebrating Christmas. Finally, they had a table and after ordering drinks, the two women looked at the menu. Kevin knew what he wanted: beef ribs and plenty of them. Mary and Florence decided to share a plate of ribs and soon had sauce dripping from their faces as they bit into the succulent meat. "My God, this is good," Florence said. "Thank you for bringing us. Thank you for everything." She took another swipe at the meat with her knife and fork. "You're welcome. I'm glad you like it. They have hot towels to clean up with when we're done. God, I love this stuff." He took another bite of the rib, pulling meat away from the bone with his teeth as he chewed it into his mouth. He had almost forgotten how good the ribs tasted. More than a half-hour later, the last rib's meat finally disappeared from the bone. "Do you want dessert?" he asked, wiping his face with the hot damp towel the server had brought. "Oh, no... I'm so full I could..." Mary said, putting her towel down. She looked at her mother who was still busy with her own last rib. "What?" Florence asked, chewing a little more, her fingers covered with sauce. "Nothing, Mama... nothing at all." Why they had kissed, she had no idea other than possible loneliness. That wedding photo said it all, she decided, and yet, the kiss they had shared was the most exciting she had ever had. What was she to do? "Merry Christmas," she thought to herself. Kevin drove south on the boulevard until they reached the coast and turned east toward the Wayfarers' Chapel, the famous glass church that overlooked the Pacific. Parking the car, he escorted the two women into the building, the glass and light-colored limestone reflecting the oh-so-mellow Southern Californian lifestyle. Its airy interior was due to the tall glass walls that gave a view of Catalina just a few miles off the coast. Kevin walked over to the tall window and looked at the island across the channel. The sight never ceased to amaze him and the old song came to mind, once again... 'twenty-six miles across the sea... Santa Catalina, the island of romance...' Mary stood in the aisle and twirled like a ballerina. "It's so beautiful," said Mary, quietly, as if she was afraid of destroying the moment. "A lot of people get married here," Kevin responded reverently, more for sense of being than anything else. "It's very popular with brides." He watched her moving through the church, oblivious to anything else as she went to one window to gaze at Catalina. "What do you think?" she asked. "Would you like to get married here?" Kevin looked at her, unsure how to answer such a direct question. "I... I hadn't ever thought about it." Why did he say that? What was he thinking when he went to sleep at night, lying alone in the big, empty bed? Mary looked back at him. "It's just so beautiful, isn't it?" She moved over toward the glass wall and looked south toward Catalina, the island of romance. It was a long, quiet ride back north along Pacific Coast Highway, as if he was trying to delay the inevitable return to the house. He soon realized taking them to the Glass Church had put ideas into Mary's head and there was no denying she had shown interest... interest in being his wife, or at least somebody's wife. What was he to do, now? He couldn't see himself getting married now, if at all, could he? It was still too soon and his memory of Lucy continued to fill his nights making sleep impossible. How long had it been since he slept the night through? What was he to do? He was so confused... and, suddenly, so damn unhappy. The angel was upset, knowing that the evening had not gone as she had hoped. What to do, she wondered, what to do to bring them back together, she didn't know. Love was a fragile gift and this one was so close to shattering. As Kevin pulled into the driveway, Mary was already out of the car before it had completely stopped and headed toward the front door. Within seconds, she had disappeared inside and Kevin once again wished he had never driven out to the old church. It was a silent evening for Mary had stayed in her room, leaving him alone in the living room to stare at the television by himself since Florence had also left him alone. That night, he lay there, staring up at the dark ceiling, wondering why she had gotten to him when so many other women had never been able to get near. There had been plenty of opportunities and he had shied away from every one of them, throwing his life into his work. Maybe... maybe it was her dark green eyes staring at him when he watched her or her reddish copper hair topped by one of the baseball caps that he had given her. Or maybe it was just a physical attraction, plain and simple. She was a woman and he was a man, it could be as simple as that. Maybe he had been alone far too long, no matter how his heart felt. What was he to do now? He wondered what Lucy would have thought. But no, there seemed something more, something he sensed deep within her. At times, she seemed like a young girl, her eyes full of fear from something that had happened before they met. She tried to hide it but it was there. It made Kevin want to protect her, to touch her... to touch her heart. ---------- The house was quiet Christmas Eve morning when Kevin left his bedroom and went into the kitchen. While the table was set for breakfast, there was no one there waiting and the stove was cold. For a moment, he considered sitting down and waiting but then thought otherwise. He walked over to the coffeemaker, started it and then opened the refrigerator and took out the orange juice. Pouring a glass, he put it back and listened to the coffee drip into the pot. Where were they? Where was she? Had they somehow left? That was something that he really didn't want to consider. Quietly, he went down the hallway and listened at the first door and heard nothing, not even the soft snoring that Mary's mother had usually marked the night with. He walked to the next door, wondering if all he would hear was more silence. He knocked on the door and slowly opened it, expecting to find emptiness... the same emptiness that was filling his heart at the thought of the two women being gone. "Kevin... what are you doing in...?" Mary asked, struggling to pull the light-blue bedding up toward her neck. "I thought you had gone... you and your mother." He felt foolish, standing in the doorway, watching her next to her mother, practically hiding beneath the covers. "I just didn't want to be alone, that's all. Yesterday..." She flattened out the blanket, causing his attention to drift to her breasts pushing against the bedding, bringing back Saturday's memories, good and bad. "About yesterday," he started to say, trying to explain himself. "I was wondering..." "What?" "You know, about you and... about you and me." "What 'you and me'? What do you mean?" Kevin stood there in the doorway, wondering just what did he mean. "You and me, where we're going... together, I mean... if there is a together. I..." "Together?" she asked, looking at him, the blanket slipping away from her chin. "Yes. Together." ----------- "What do you really know about her?" asked Mike as he and Kevin walked down the hallway toward the computer room that oversaw the Pacific geosynchronous satellites. "She makes me happy, I know that," answered Kevin, knowing that his friend only had his best interests at heart and was playing Devil's Advocate. "I've been alone too long. I..." They reached the room and pulled open the door without knocking. It had been two days since he had taken Mary and her mother to the Glass Church and the conversation they had had the next morning. To explain where his heart was took a long drive down the coast to San Diego. He wasn't sure he had explained himself well until she began speaking about her own heartbreak, nothing to be sure as devastating as his but hurtful just the same. She expressed her embarrassment at still being a virgin but he told her it was a gift to be given in love, not something to be thrown away as if it had no value. They spent the day at Sea World, just walking hand in hand from one show to another, accompanied by their own angel, and it was late in the evening when they finally returned to the house. ---------- Florence looked through the window curtains at the car parked across the street, wondering if it was him... the scourge of her life... of her daughter's life. She stepped back into the shadows, her breathing slowly returning to normal. Would it ever end? She thought they were finally free, hidden away at the colonel's house. Who would ever know they were there? But then, the man opened the door and stepped out. It wasn't him, thank God. ---------- "Merry Christmas," he said to both of them as he sat down at the table. They were wearing holiday-themed sweatshirts; Mary had a green one with a Christmas tree while Florence had a red one and happy, smiling reindeer. "Merry Christmas," they replied. Florence put a dish of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of him humming "Santa Claus is coming to town." Kevin looked at the two women and knew he hadn't felt so good in a long time. "Good morning... this sure looks good." He put a forkful into his mouth and smiled. Living the single life had taken a toll on his taste buds and the years of being alone had destroyed his joy of food. He looked away from the table to the small Christmas tree that was set up on the coffee table and wondered how they had gotten it. He still hadn't found them a car and the nearest tree lot was over a mile away. "How did...?" he started to ask, still looking at the tree, its lights shining. "Oh... well..." Florence looked at her daughter and started laughing. "It was just a long walk." Kevin then realized he had forgotten to buy anything for the women and his face turned red in embarrassment. He slowly looked at his watch and then up, again. "I just remembered I have to go to the base for a while." "On Christmas morning?" "It never ends. I should be back in a couple of hours." He stood up and then sat back down, looking at his breakfast. "Guess I'll finish this first, huh?" He quickly ate the rest of his eggs, wishing he could have taken his time with the food and then left. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the mall parking lot and rushed into Macy's, surprised and glad they were open. Buying for the mother was easy, he thought, finding several good-looking sweaters but for the daughter... Walking down the aisle, he chanced upon the jewelry section and stopped to look at bracelets, necklaces and rings. Looking at the rings, he bent over and saw some beautiful engagement rings and wedding sets. "May I help you?" asked the woman behind the counter. "I don't know," Kevin answered back. "I'm still..." And then he stopped talking, wondering what he was waiting for. He had been alone too long, much too long. Lucy would understand, he was sure. "Let me see..." ---------- He arrived back at the house close to an hour and a half later, carrying bags of gifts in his arms. It had been so long since he had bought anyone something for Christmas and, he admitted to himself, he probably went overboard. Laughing, he set a bag down and started to put the key into the lock when the door swung open. Angels: Bruises on a Broken Heart "You're back!" said Mary, excitedly. "We didn't know when you were coming back so we didn't start any food." Kevin walked over to the little Christmas tree and started setting his wrapped boxes down on the table. "I ran into a jolly old fellow and he said these were for you." With almost a child-like sense of joy, the two women approached the gifts, searching for their names on the cards. "Oh, Kevin, you shouldn't have... you didn't have to... we just got you some..." Within moments, gift-wrapping lay on the floor and sweaters and blouses and dresses were held up and admired but he knew there was still one gift waiting... one small gift with a big surprise. At least, he hoped it would be a big surprise, a wonderful surprise. And suddenly, he had a horrible thought... what if she said 'no'? What if they felt they had to leave because of it? He hesitated, unsure of what to do but then realized that hesitation never accomplished anything. "There's one other gift," he said, holding out the small box. She sat there on the sofa, surrounded by wrapping paper, empty boxes and clothing. She saw the box in his hand, then saw him crouched down in front of her, moving to his knee. "Will you do the honor of marrying me? I know we haven't known each other very long but I feel there's something special between us, something that I know will grow into love. I can give you and your mother a good life here." Mary went to her knees in front of him, looking into his eyes as he still held out the box to her, his hands slightly shaking. Her hand went to the jewelry box and opened it, amazed at the beauty of the ring before her. "Yes," she said, knowing that love would grow as time passed. "Yes," she said, "I will marry you." He took the box back and slipped the ring on her finger, kissing her hand. It was only the second time he had kissed her and yet it seemed so natural an extension of their relationship. Hesitantly, he took her into his arms and kissed her on the mouth, hoping that this was the best thing for both of them. "Merry Christmas," he said, quietly, "and, to many, many more," and this time, he heard the soft chime as his angel returned to heaven. ...Thank you for reading my stories...