Falling From Grace

by SL Naeole

  I did as she instructed, and waited, feeling the soft, but firm strokes of what I could only guess was the brush going across the bottom of my eyelid. "Open your eyes." I did that as well, and she again came at me with another bristled weapon.

  She applied the mascara to my lashes very slowly and carefully, apparently sensing my fear and distrust. "Honestly, I've never met someone so afraid of mascara before," I heard her mutter, while she returned the brush back to its innocuous tube that looked like a stranger on my dresser. Finally, she grabbed the tube of gloss and handed it to me.

  "Okay, you're going to have to put this on yourself. It'll be the only thing you'll reapply, so you'll have to know how to do it without making it look too tacky."

  I know the look I gave her would have been the exact same one I'd have shared had she just told me that I was going to have to perform a triple bypass on a hippopotamus, while tap dancing to the meowing cat Christmas CD that Dad owned. How did one make gloss not look tacky?

  I learned that it was quite simple, really. The trick was to apply it to your top lip only, and then rub it into your bottom one. Janice went through this with me using baby steps, and while I might never get so dolled up again, I might actually get used to the gloss thing after she showed me how easy it was.

  "Well, Grace. I can't say anything else but this. If your mother was half as beautiful as you look right now, I'm fairly certain your Dad was a very lucky man when he married her," Janice exclaimed, not a sound if insincerity in her voice as she stepped aside so that I could finally focus and take a look at myself.

  "Thank you, Janice," I said, and glanced in the mirror. I was speechless. The girl who stared back at me in the mirror surely wasn't me! Was my hair really that rich of a brown? My eyes--did they look green or was that my imagination? The freckles that danced across my face looked as though they belonged there as the rose of a blush crept across my cheeks, drowning out any sign of imperfection. I couldn't believe it.

  "That's not me," I whispered.

  Janice chuckled. She reached for one more box and handed it to me. "This, I believe, is your wrap."

  My what? I took the box from her and opened it up. Inside was a bundle of what looked like the same chiffon that flowed from the front of my dress. I took it out of its box and marveled as it tumbled to the floor, its ends weighted down with the same crystals from the front of the dress. I noticed that it wasn't a narrow strip of material, but rather wide, and multi-layered, causing it to be less sheer, but still giving off that subtle softness.

  "Well, put it on," Janice told me, and helped as I did.

  She ushered me towards the door, opening it before letting me out first, then rushing around me in the hallway so that she could be the first to come down the stairs, her intent very clear. She wanted to see the guys' reactions when I appeared.

  Slowly, taking a deep breath with every other step, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room. Janice's arrival had disrupted whatever it was that the guys had been doing for the past hour, and all three were standing, their faces anxious as I took that last step down.

  The first sound I heard was the intake of air, and then the groan, followed by the sigh.

  Dad was the first one to approach me. Obviously this had all been pre-arranged because neither Graham nor Robert made any move to come forward. "Grace--wow. You look so beautiful." His eyes were damp, and I knew that if he let loose one single tear, I'd have endured that heinous mascara torture for nothing because I'd wash it all away with the flood of mine.

  "Thanks, Dad." I tried to sound rough, stiff, firm. My shaky voice wasn't going to let me win this round.

  "I mean it, kiddo. You look incredible. That's some dress," he said, looking me up and down, and then hugging me fiercely--like a father would right before sending his only child off to war. It was bringing me closer to losing that battle with the tears.

  "Okay Dad, you're going to have to let me go now," I whispered into his ear. He nodded, but didn't release his grip. Instead, it grew tighter. "Dad...?"

  "Alright, alright. I'm letting go. Give an old man a break when he's watching his little girl grow up right before his eyes, will ya?"

  He looked at Robert and sighed after he'd put enough distance between the two of us. "You got my baby into a dress, and you've got me digging up the waterworks here. I don't know whether to hug you or hit you."

  Robert smiled. "I'd prefer the hug, but understand if you'd rather hit me."

  Graham stepped forward then, his mouth a cavern of awe, his eyes wide.

  "You said I'd look better in a whole dress. Are you going to take back your words?" I asked him, my hands on my hips, my feet braced for any biting comment he might make.

  He shook his head, his jaw wagging as he did so. "You look incredible."

  And that was it. He wasn't going to say anything else. I saw him glance at Robert and I knew why. He wasn't going to ruin this moment with any snide comments or off-handed remarks--no matter how much he wanted to make them--because he cared about my feelings.

  Finally, it was Robert's turn. His eyes were filled with happiness as he held his hand out to me. I gladly took it. He raised my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles very softly, faintly. It was something that you only saw in period pieces on television or in the theater. And now, in my living room...but no one ever felt the fierce raging beat that my heart was pounding in my chest, or the breathless joy that flowed through me with each, soft caress.

  "You are everything they've said and more," he said softly. Radiant, spectacular, phenomenal, glorious--you've surpassed any expectation I might have had, and even more so I don't think I've ever, in all my years on this earth, been more stunned than I am right now.

  As unladylike and unattractive as it was to do, I couldn't stop my mouth from falling open at his admission. Weren't you peeking? Looking in my or Janice's mind, looking for our reactions? What I looked like beforehand? Cheat?

  The look in his eyes told me that he had not. His surprise had been genuine. I was amazed. "How gentlemanly of you." I murmured, a secret smile faintly touching my lips.

  Robert offered me his arm then, and looked at Dad. "I think our car is here. I will have Grace back by eleven, if that is alright with you, Mr. Shelley."

  Dad's face was blank. For a first date, he'd probably had some sort of set curfew speech planned in his head, but he hadn't counted on Robert being one step ahead of him and setting one himself at the exact same hour that I would have had to been home had I actually had a social life. He grunted and then responded, "I think that is fine, although if Grace finds herself having a good time, I guess it would be alright if you were to bring her home by midnight."

  I looked at Dad, and then at Robert. It was so quick, I would have missed it if I had blinked; he winked at me. "Thank you, Mr. Shelley. I appreciate and value your trust in my bringing your daughter back home safely."

  This time, it was Dad's turn to wink at me, although when compared to Robert's, it looked more like half his face was falling asleep. "How could I not trust you with her safety, Robert? You saved her life. I think I can bend the rules just a little bit for that."

  Graham, who had been quietly watching the exchange between the two threw his hands up and headed towards the kitchen. "I need something to eat."

  Janice, who had also been standing quietly off to the side, suddenly made a squeaking sound. "I need to get my camera!"

  "Oh no! Let's go, quick, before she takes a picture," I cried, tugging on Robert's arm, but he wasn't budging. I was too late. Janice had stashed her camera somewhere close by, probably in preparation for my escape.

  "Not so fast, Grace! I just want two photos; One of you alone and then one with Robert."

  "Aw Janice, you know photos of me never turn out right," I whined. I sounded like a bratty teenager, and I bit my lip to stop the nasal sound from coming out.

  Janice shook her head, not swayed one bit. Whining never worked. "Come on. Let's get one of just you.
"

  Robert took a few steps away from me, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the living room. Janice called my name and told me to smile. I tried.

  "Hmm. This flash isn't working right. It came out too bright," Janice said, looking at the little screen on her camera that displayed the photo she had just taken.

  "No, that's just me," I muttered, knowing full well that it was.

  "Well, let's try one with you and Robert, then."

  As if he had never left, Robert was at my side, his arm around my waist, his hand resting on my hip. He looked down at me, and I looked up at him. I didn't notice the flash, but I did hear the coo from Janice as she proclaimed her latest attempt at amateur photography a success.

  "It's beautiful. It's like there's a halo of light around the two of you. Come look!"

  I couldn't stop myself. There had never, ever been a photograph of me that hadn't come out ruined in some way. I was in absolute disbelief. But Janice was right. Her little screen held the photo that she had shot of Robert and I looking into each other's eyes. The connection between the two of us was obvious. One could even say that we looked in love. But what you couldn't ignore was the fact that we both seemed to glow. It gave the picture a very ethereal quality, and the irony was almost too much for me.

  "Isn't it beautiful?" Janice proclaimed, and showed it to Dad, who nodded in agreement. "I'm going to definitely print this one up. Want to take one more?"

  "Okay, let's go, Robert," I cried, and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the door.

  "Hold on, kiddo, you have to say goodbye to your old man, first," Dad called out.

  I stopped moving and turned around, not really wanting to have to look into his face and see the tears that had been threatening to fall earlier. I was almost out of the house, tear free!

  Dad pulled me into another fierce hug, oblivious to what the sudden motion was doing to my hair, or my dress. I was, too, but the feminine instinct that seemed to suddenly appear as soon as my hair or dress was threatened caused me pull back and utter words I never imagined I'd ever say. "Careful, Dad, you might mess my hair and dress up."

  He sighed, and let me go. "You're right. Go on. Have fun. I won't wait up."

  I kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Dad."

  And in a flash, we were outside, standing in the driveway. It had happened so fast, I was almost certain that Dad probably still thought we were standing next to him.

  Feeling amused by that thought, I looked at Robert, finally able to appreciate the way his liquid eyes shimmered and rippled like two silver pools. "So, how exactly are we going to get to this wedding?"

  He raised his eyebrows and looked at the street, causing me to follow his gaze. A black car pulled up then. I didn't know what kind of car it was. All I knew was that it was shiny, black, sleek, and here. Someone stepped out of the driver's side and walked around it, deftly opening the rear passenger door, and waited for Robert and I to enter.

  The driver wore an all black suit, and he had a severe look to him. I looked at Robert again, the question already in my head.

  "No. He's not one of my kind. He's just a very loyal friend."

  I nodded and allowed him to lead me towards the car. He helped me get my dress and my cast inside of the vehicle and climbed in after me, the door closing behind him. As we pulled away from my house, I took a good look at what we were riding in and, as it had been doing a lot these past few weeks, my jaw once again dropped in a dramatic fashion.

  "Oh dear bananas, do you know what kind of car this is?" I looked at him, feeling immediately stupid because of course he knew what car this was.

  Everyone knew what kind of car this was. It wasn't like a Mercedes or a BMW, two brands that had become quite common in certain areas of Heath. Oh no. One look at the solitary B in the emblem gave it away quite easily. These weren't common in Heath, much less the whole of Ohio. And I was now riding in one. "How fitting that we should be riding in a vehicle with wings in its logo," I murmured.

  MIXED COMPANY

  My knees were shaking so badly by the time we pulled into the road leading to the Bellegarde family retreat that I had to physically hold them still with my hands. I didn't know why I was so nervous, but a stray thought that had been floating around in my head hinted to me that tonight wasn't going to be a typical first date. Not that a typical first date included riding around in a vehicle that cost more than the average house in Heath was worth, with a bona fide angel to boot, but because I simply did not know what to expect.

  I had no experience when it came to dating, but I knew that tonight wasn't going to be your average dinner and a movie kind of evening. We were going to a wedding for the granddaughter of someone that Robert had known when they were young. This meant that this person knew that something was different about him, and probably knew a great deal more about him than I did.

  Aside from his family and others of his kind, I had held the thought that I was the only other person who knew what he was like a badge of honor, a rare and special prize that was mine and mine alone. To know that I was just one of several felt like I was being robbed of something, even though whatever it was could never be as tangible and real as what I felt every time Robert looked at me.

  And he was looking at me now, his eyes full of humor, as though he knew something that I did not. But, of course he did. He always would. That was one of the many prices one had to pay when they befriended something as wonderful and magical as an angel.

  "I know you hear my thoughts. Just come out and say whatever it is that you're thinking," I told him, not exactly thrilled that he hadn't done so yet.

  "I don't know what exactly to think," he replied, although judging by the way he was smiling, he had already thought of a lot. "I will say that I'm getting closer and closer to figuring out how you manage to keep me from reading your thoughts."

  My eyes grew large in surprise. "Really? How?"

  "I'll let you know when I'm certain. Until then, I have a question I'd like to ask you.

  I held my breath, and waited.

  "I was wondering if you'd like me to remove your casts."

  The air came out of me slowly, as though I were deflating. I nodded my head before really thinking about the consequences, and then decided that I simply didn't care what the consequences were. Oh to have freedom of movement! I twisted my body around in the seat, pulled up the hem of the dress and laid my leg in his lap. I pointed to it with my casted hand, "Can you start with that."

  He laughed. "I can always feel your annoyance when you think about them, but I'm going to have to put them back on before I bring you home. I'm just taking them off for tonight."

  "So my freedom will turn into a prison again at midnight. All I need is a pumpkin and some mice and I'm all set," I responded.

  "And what shall I turn into when the clock strikes twelve?" he asked, his eyes twinkling at me in the darkness of the car as his hands skimmed my toes peeking out from the footed part of the cast.

  "Nothing. There is no midnight when it comes to you," I breathed. Or, rather, I didn't, because right then I felt a strange tingle run up the back of my leg, as though someone had drawn a line running from my ankle to my thigh with a feather. "Oh!" I squirmed, the sensation was so...odd.

  I looked at Robert's hands, and saw that he was tapping the cast at the base of my heel. Only, the tapping was very, very fast, the movement nearly imperceptible. I only noticed it because I could feel it. The cast was great at enhancing the vibrations the tapping created. And then he stopped. I inhaled, the rush of air filling my lugs to near bursting, and then I blew it all out in a gasp of shock when he lifted the cast off of my leg in one piece, although split open along the back, the front looking like it had been hinged.

  "H-h-how'd you do that?"

  "A magician never reveals his secrets." He waggled his eyebrows at me, and smiled.

  "Ugh, what is that smell?!" My nose wrinkled up as the pungent odor assailed my senses.

  He laughed. "That's
coming from you."

  I scoffed, offended, "It is not!"

  He pointed to my leg, which was looking rather sickly pale, and...grotesquely hairy, and smiled. "I'm afraid it is. The cast has done wonders to make your leg a breeding ground of odor causing bacteria."

  I realized he was right. Offended and offensive. Great. What a way to start off a first date. Embarrassed, I groaned. "What am I going to do? I can't go to the wedding smelling and looking like road kill!"

  "Shh. Don't worry. Let me take care of it," he whispered, and held my foot in his hands.

  I stared in muted shock as he brought my foot to his mouth, holding it steady when I tried to jerk it away. He exhaled on it, sending a shiver up my leg and straight to that part of my stomach that made funny little leaps every time he touched me or looked at me in a certain way, only this time, my stomach didn't just take a tiny leap, it did a triple jump, landing somewhere in my chest next to my rapidly beating heart.

  I remembered him doing the same thing on my hand after I had burned it that first day after we'd met, and the blisters had just disappeared. But what could that same ability do to a dank, swampy leg? That was abysmally hairy?

  I felt the strange tingling start at the very tip of my smallest toe. It was like a fly was sitting there, and then it was walking across the span of my toes, each tiny footstep leaving permanent prints on my skin that pulsed and throbbed in ever widening circles.

  I watched, awestruck as my leg started to change in color, the pale, moist skin turning from nearly translucent to a far more normal pinkish beige. I felt my eyes ratchet even wider as I watched the patches of hair seem to retreat back into my skin. I looked back into his face, "Wha-how?"

  He smiled, and pulled the edge of my dress down, covering my now cast free, and strangely sweet smelling leg. He reached for my arm and repeated the rapid tapping on my elbow. When it, too, had been split open, the same awful smell assailed my nose. As he had with my foot, Robert brought my hand up to his mouth and exhaled on it.