by Pace, Pepper
Invisible fingers touched her arm, gliding gently down until they were tracing the lines of her fingers. Her eyes opened and she was standing on the beach. Her feet sank into the warm sand and the waves of the water lapped the shore. She gave Angel a curious look. He was smiling at her.
“Did you see what happened?”
“I see what you see and know what you know.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she smiled along with him. “You made magic happen.”
Her expression grew serious. “Is that what I did?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.” He led them to the water’s edge and she noticed that he seemed to be in a peculiar mood—more happier than normal. Well maybe with this behind them they could focus on more happier things.
“I’ve never been to the beach before,” she said as she stared out into the horizon.
“No. But you will.” She gave him another curious look.
“Another vision? Something good this time, I hope?”
He was smiling mysteriously. “Not a vision for you, one for me.” He stopped walking just short of the water and with the next wave; the cool ocean flowed over their bare feet. He squeezed her hand and seemed about to burst with his need to tell her something.
“What? A vision for you? How is that possible?”
He stared at her. “Leslie, today I was born.”
“What?” The word dragged from her mouth taking impossibly long.
“Today I’m real. For the first time I’m real.”
“You were always real to me, though…”
He was nodding his head. “But there was never anything before or after, there was just you. Now…there is something other than you.” Maybe she was supposed to be happy about this news, but instead she was left with a sense of foreboding. There was something important that she was missing…
“What was in your vision?”
“Us.”
She waited. “And?”
He chuckled and leaned forward to place a kiss on her lips. “What more?” He swooped down and hugged her happily, swinging her around, causing her to squeal in pleasure. “Let’s make love on the beach.” He pushed down his pants and swept off his shirt in one fluid motion.
She sighed at the sight of his beautiful nude body and then stripped out of her own clothes, not caring if they got wet by the waves. Angel’s eyes brightened and he took a few moments to appreciate her nude form before he pulled her into his arms and rolled his hips against her pelvis.
“Ohh…” She sighed. “I missed you so much.”
“I know. I missed you, and was afraid for you and sad…” He punctuated each statement with a lingering kiss. He lifted her in his arms, their nude bodies pressed together and he looked at her. “I love you.” From her position slightly above him she watched him with a sense of total acceptance. He loved her unconditionally; as she loved him.
“I love you, too; always and forever.”
He let her feet touch the sand again but he didn’t let her go. His lips sought out hers and he kissed her deeply, lovingly.
Suddenly he staggered and gripped his head in his hands.
“Angel!” She reached out for him, he was falling. Her hands went through him….
He gave her a surprised look. “No! I didn’t know!”
“Angel?” He lay on the beach looking like he was in pain, struggling to stand and Leslie kept reaching for him, only to have her hands go through him like a phantom’s hand.
“I made this.” His eyes appealed to her. “I wanted to be real so I made this, bu-”
“You made yourself real, but Angel what’s happening?!” She dropped down on her knees beside his naked form.
“I allowed myself to be born! Leslie find me!” Suddenly his body began to shimmer.
“No…” Her chest was heaving. He was disappearing. “No, Angel!” He reached out to her and before she could lift her hands he was gone.
The world around her began to heave and swirl and the air left her body as if she was in a wind tunnel! She squinted against the flying sand and suddenly the world calmed. She blinked her eyes and Leslie Wilke was lying in her bed, completely alone.
Chapter 8
~1993~
Leslie lowered the blinds and locked the door to the bakery. It was only 3pm but it was their stores policy to only bake enough pastries to last for one day and when they sold out the doors closed. Officially closing time was 3:30. Monfort Heights Bakery was one of the best in the city, and since Leslie had taken over as manager, they had tripled their business. She didn’t expand their hours and Leslie would often find herself accosted by customers dashing to the locked doors and begging for a dozen of their signature, melt in your mouth donuts.
She balanced a small box in her hands, as she gripped her keys, purse, and a folder of recipes that she had been considering.
After Glenn had paid for her management course he offered to also send her to culinary school to study as a pastry chef. He had said that she didn’t need to know how to bake in order to be a good manager, but if she did she’d be a great one. So she enrolled in the Cincinnati Culinary Institute and managed to keep very busy. She needed it to be; keeping busy was the only thing that kept her sane.
Leslie soon discovered that she had a love for baking and she immersed herself in all things to do with the culinary arts. While she was being schooled, she realized her bakers were very good at what they did, but they weren’t trained pastry chefs. For the most part, they had been hired on and told to do something a certain way, and when someone new came on board they instructed them to do it the exact same way. Once Leslie showed them the proper way to do things, a good bakery was transformed into an excellent one.
Glenn came into the store on a rare visit, and noted the line that went out the door. His face was amazed when he took her back to her small office.
“Do you want a raise?”
“Yeah, sure.” She said surprised. “Thank you Glenn.”
He was shaking his head at her as if he was disappointed in her. “Leslie? Why didn’t you ask for a raise if you wanted one?” She gave him a confused look. But that was Glenn with his strange questions and round-about way of telling her something.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I’m happy with what you pay me. I mean, I love what I do and you pay me well to do it.”
“Damn.” He just looked at her like she was a curiosity. “Why couldn’t you have been my kid?” He headed out the door. “You’re making me rich, kiddo, so I’ll do the same for you.” That was over a year ago.
Leslie drove to the bank and made her daily deposit. Then she hurried home, not wanting the contents of her box to melt. She still lived in the house that she had shared with her grandmother and besides some updated furniture and remodeled kitchen it still felt like Grandma’s house. She placed the pastry box on the marble counter and then went upstairs to change out of her clothes. Her bedroom was still the smaller one, though she had purchased grown up furniture for it.
After putting on a t-shirt and cargo shorts, Leslie went back downstairs and took the small cake out of its box. She turned it a full 360 degrees peering at it in approval. It was perfect. She had decorated it herself. It was a butter cake with butter cream icing and this year it was decorated with a big yellow sunflower.
She dug through her utensil drawer until she came up with a box of candles. Carefully she inserted two into the beautiful cake. She picked up the box of matches and lit the two candles.
“Happy birthday, Angel.” She whispered. “Today you are two years old. You are walking, and falling and probably getting into things. Your Mom and Dad probably have to chase after you and keep you from putting everything you pick up into your mouth.” Her eyes took on a wistful expression. “You probably have a head of golden brown curls and big beautiful sky blue eyes. I am sure that you are a beautiful baby…just like you were a beautiful Guardian Angel.”
Leslie bent down and blew out the candles. Two fat tear drops fell onto the cryst
alline icing of the cake, looking as if they belonged there.
She went to retrieve a plate, fork, and a cake knife. She cut a slice from it and as she ate she thought of Angel and their time together. He had told her to find him…She knew his birthday and that one day they’d stand on the shore together but that was about all. More importantly, she knew that she’d have to wait eighteen years and that seemed impossibly long. Every night she went to sleep praying that she would see him there; in her dreams.
But she never did.
Her life was a big empty expanse. She had no personal relationships and once she left her professional life she returned to her solitary one. Everyone that she had ever valued was gone now; and without Angel she could no longer visit the dead. Their memory began to fade into the background and desperately she fought to keep Angel’s memories in the forefront. She spent her nights reliving their conversations and the vivid places that were born of their imagination. When she thought of their passionate nights, it was all that she could do to keep her fingers from exploring the space between her thighs. But all that did was to make the need greater and so she ignored it.
Leslie blinked, returning from her memories. She boxed the rest of the cake and placed it into the refrigerator, and feeling nostalgic she moved to her album collection and searched until she found Bobby Caldwell. With a slight smile she pressed the album cover to her nose. Once upon a time her parents had touched this album…
She carefully slipped the vinyl from its cover and placed it on the old stereo. When the opening lyrics began she sat on the floor and clutched her knees. She sang softly as lonely tears began to glide down her face. Suddenly she leaped up and grabbed her purse and car keys and then hurried to her car. Grandma’s car had been replaced with a new Camry. It only took her five minutes to get to her destination because she wasn’t going far; just a few blocks over.
She pulled into the drive-way of a small, run down house. It had seen better days…even back when she was a kid it had seen better days. She rang the bell and listened intently for someone’s approach. If she still had the phone number she would have called first…but she had forgotten her best friend’s number years ago.
An older black woman opened the door and when she saw Leslie her face brightened.
“Hi, Mrs. Rogers. I was trying to get in touch with Missy.”
“Leslie, I haven’t seen you in ages. Well Missy doesn’t live here anymore.” Leslie looked disappointed. “Wait here and I’ll get you her phone number.” Mrs. Rogers left her on the front porch but returned a short time later holding a scrap of paper with Missy’s phone number on it.
Leslie smiled. “Thank you!” She hurried home and picked up the phone pacing nervously. She hadn’t been a good friend to Missy so she might not even want to hear from her. But she would apologize because she now realized that she had stolen something from Missy; when she had withdrawn from the world, she’d also taken away Missy’s best friend.
A man answered the phone after the first ring. “Hello?”
She hesitated wondering if she had misdialed. “May I speak to Missy Rogers?”
“Missy ROGERS? Who’s this?” The man asked.
“Leslie. Leslie Wilke.”
There was a long pause. She wondered if he would hang up on her after saying that she had the wrong number. “Just a minute.”
The phone went quiet and then a few moments later she heard a breathless voice.
“Leslie?”
“Hi, Missy. Yes it’s Leslie.” There was a loud scream and Leslie almost dropped the phone. Then she heard rushed excited words that were hard to make out.
“Leslie, I’ve been thinking about you so much! I missed you girl! How have you been?” Leslie smiled in relief and sank down onto her couch. The two women talked with excited voices, as if there hadn’t been years between their last conversation. Often times their words tumbled over each other as if there wasn’t time enough to catch up on all of the things they’d missed. Missy told her that she was married and had a young baby.
“Who did you marry? Anyone I know?” Leslie’s question was met with a brief silence.
“Derrick.”
“Derrick?”
“Yeah.” Missy responded slowly.
Leslie was so surprised that she almost forgot to speak and covered it the best that she could. “Wow…I had no idea. Congratulations…was that him on the phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow, and you two have a baby?”
“Yes. I sorta thought you knew…and that’s why you stopped talking to either of us.” Missy’s voice was now the one that held a nervous tension.
“No. I never knew.” Leslie was shocked, but not in a bad way. “Missy, I’m happy for you two. The reason that I didn’t talk to you was because I was…in a bad place.”
“Did you stop talking completely?” Missy asked with concern.
“Yes, for a while, but not long.”
“I feel so bad Leslie. I should have been there for you but I…I felt bad about Derrick and I guess guilty. I promise that I never liked Derrick in that way while you liked him. I thought he was cute and all, but that summer you started pulling back. And Derrick asked me if I knew what was wrong with you, if maybe he’d pissed you off at that party April had. Things just sort of…happened from there.”
After the party…Leslie was nodding her head. Things had changed for her after the party when she’d had the dream. She had to face her grandmother’s impending death and it wasn’t something that she did easily. She quickly tried to find something positive to say. “It sounds like you two were meant to be.” Leslie couldn’t see the smile but she somehow felt it over the phone.
“Yeah.” Missy spoke softly.
“Well how old is your baby?! I can’t believe you’re a mom. Boy or girl?”
“A little girl; Natasha. She’ll be six months in a few days.”
Leslie sighed, a smile on her face. “Missy, I’m so happy for you.”
“I can’t wait to see you! We gotta get together. Come to dinner! Yes! You can come tonight. I am making chops and I will thaw out two more!”
Leslie chuckled. “I’d love to. And if you two don’t mind a cake with one slice taken out I’ll bring desert.”
“Oh that sounds great, Les…um because I’ve picked up a few pounds and have a big-ass sweet tooth. I guess it’s a good thing that my best friend is a baker.” She ended softly.
Leslie smiled and her eyes stung. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad because now I have someone else to give my experiments to.”
After hanging up, Leslie hurried to the shower and then contemplated what one wears to a dinner with a long lost friend who had married the guy you used to have a crush on. She selected jeans, boots with a sensible heel, and a black turtleneck. It was fall and might still be a bit warm but it was casual and understated.
Her hair had grown longer over the years and she wore it bumped under and just about shoulder length. When she looked in the mirror these days, she saw a woman that had light brown skin and bright brown eyes. Her scars from the previous piercings were still visible and yet softened by her use of cocoa butter. Her body was toned, not because she exercised but because sometimes she forgot to do the simple things like eat.