"I can see that happening," Melanie smiled.
After a few moments pause, Melanie saddened.
"Michael, you have to apologize to your mother," she said.
"What?" he cried as he sat up and put his back against the cold brick wall.
She turned to him and put her head on his lap while gazing up at him with her innocent smile.
"I will not come between you and your mother," she stated. "You must apologize."
"I think it's the other way around," he said as his hand went to her hair and he began to stroke her.
"Do you really think she will apologize? She's a mother, they don't do that."
"Melanie, she called you a tramp," he stated.
His lover startled with the news and then calmed and shrugged it off as if it were nothing.
"I've been called worse," she said.
Michael just shook his head, looked out across the loft, and down to Melanie's work area. Her canvas was well lit; he found that he liked leaving the light on so he could stare at her easels and supplies from the heightened position. To that end, he had flipped the switch to the on position after she had turned it off for the night. Taking a deep breath, he thought about her words.
"How about we concentrate on us for the moment?" he asked. "Let's see how we do, and then I will address my mother as needed. Besides, it's only been a day. Knowing my mother, she will need a few more to think about what she's done."
"Will that matter?"
"Nope," was the quick reply, "But I'm still angry, so a few days will calm my nerves."
Melanie continued to look at him and smiled. She thought about his response and decided a few days would be fine.
"Michael," she said cautiously. "Where is this going?"
Michael looked down to her and his eyes widened. "Isn't it a little early to be having this talk? We've know each other less than two months."
"Just asking?" she said mischievously.
Michael chuckled and stroked her hair. After a moment, he smiled and then addressed her as if relating a story.
"You know I had another part of the present from last week. I wasn't sure if I should tell you, and I'm still unsure. Of course, now that you've burned the sketch you may have to suffer."
"I didn't burn it," she said.
Michael looked to her and raised an eyebrow.
"It was too beautiful to burn so I framed it. It's hanging above the couch."
Michael's face went blank and he crawled across the bed forcing Melanie to move off him. When he reached the edge of the loft, he looked down to the couch. There, above it, in a simple frame, was his sketch. How he had missed it earlier, he couldn't guess. But it must have been there all this time, unless gremlins had magically appeared and hung it in the last few seconds.
He stared at it and the bright reflections that bounded off it. The light from her workstation gave it an odd appearance as if it were permanently caught in the flash of a camera. Lying down on his stomach, he put his hand to his chin and his mouth swished about as he thought. Melanie joined him at his side with a flop on the bed. Her small frame made it more of a soft plop than a heavy flop.
"So the other half of the present was an odd thing that happened at work," he started to say. "When I showed the clients the sketch, they liked the design. When they asked me where I got the idea, I told them that I stole it from my wife."
Melanie's eyes widened and Michael turned to her. Their heads were at the foot of the bed, but Michael didn't care. He turned to his back, stretched out his arm, and Melanie curled up to him, allowing him to bend his arm around her.
"I caught a lot of hell from my co-workers after that. They all wanted to know when I got married, and they wanted all the details. I had a lot of clean-up with that one."
"What did you tell them?" she asked.
"Serious?" he asked in disbelief. "After I drop a bombshell like that you want to…"
Melanie turned to him and gave him a glare. Michael shut up and shrugged his shoulders.
"I told them that it was a figure of speech, and that I was not married, but I was dating a wonderful girl. They were placated."
"Ah," she said.
Michael watched her carefully, but she didn't say anything else.
"Melanie?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Have you ever done something, or created something and you just know it feels right."
"All the time, but it usually feels wrong," she said. "Look at my canvas."
She whipped around and they both turned to her work. It was nearly complete, and it was stunning.
"It felt wrong for the longest time. I didn't know why, but then I changed it, and it just feels right. So, I guess my answer is yes. I know what you mean."
Michael looked at her as she turned her head away from the canvas. She was teasing him and they both knew it. His comment about her being his wife would not be addressed, but it also would not be ignored, not completely anyway. Melanie smiled and kissed him.
"Hey, we should get some sleep sometime tonight, don't you think?" she asked
Michael rolled his eyes playfully. "If we must," he said.
Chapter 18
For the next few days, Michael and Melanie were practically inseparable. Tuesday morning, they woke up, went to work, and immediately afterwards Michael picked her up from work. The two of them had decided on a peaceful setting away from the city, so starting that first evening they spent their time at Michael's home.
Melanie enjoyed herself and insisted on doing the little things like cooking and cleaning, which she made certain Michael helped with. Then they would watch a movie or listen to an album together. Michael took the time to introduce her to his neighbors, and while Michael found the act to be commonplace, Melanie appeared enthused.
Thursday night, after spending several minutes with a very boring neighbor, at least to Michael's estimation, Melanie began making something in the kitchen, all while dancing around with her ear buds firmly in place. She stopped suddenly when an odd thought occurred to her. She cried out to Michael, and he was soon at her side.
"You called?" he asked as if she were a queen.
"Where's my ring?" she asked.
"You're what?"
"My ring," she repeated. "You know. R. I. N. G." she spelled.
Michael nodded his head. "I know what a ring is," he said.
"Great, well if we're going to talk about marriage, then where's my ring?"
"You do realize that we still have a long way to go before that?"
"Oh, don't freak out," she said as she continued her preparations and began searching for some odd ingredient.
"We still have to talk about kids, and where to live, and which side of the bed I will allow you to have," she was joking, and Michael smiled.
She found her ingredient and continued her preparations. Michael didn't say anything, he merely smiled and watched; he was just pleased that she had bothered to remove at least one ear bud in order to have this conversation.
When he didn’t answer her, she turned to him and gave him a funny smile.
"I think you're correct," she said to him.
"Oh, about what?" he asked
"This just feels right."
Michael went to her and gave her a hug. He kissed the top of her head and gave her a squeeze.
"Tell you what," he said. "This weekend we'll go shopping for rings. We'll take it slow and see if we like anything. Then if and when we decide to move forward, I will propose properly and have the ring all picked out."
"Oh no, Michael Angel. If you think I'm getting some store bought ring then you're crazy," she said as she pushed him off her.
Michael was confused and queried her about her comment.
"I will design my own ring, thank you very much," she said, and after a moment's thought, her eyes glazed over and she left the kitchen.
Michael knew that look, he was still becoming accustomed to it, but he had enough experience to turn around an
d shut off all the burners and anything else that might be turned on.
When he next found Melanie, she was on the couch with one of his sketchpads in her hands; the spatula she had been holding was unceremoniously deposited on the armrest. He chuckled quietly, retrieved the spatula, returned it to the kitchen, and returned with paper towels to clean the couch.
She appeared frustrated as she used a pencil to sketch out designs. The pencil she had was limited in its applications, and it took only a moment for him to retrieve his wider assortment of drawing supplies. She didn't notice when he deposited them, but she did use the implements without questioning their magical appearance.
"How about you design mine and I design yours?" he asked from behind her.
He had taken to his knees behind the couch and was looking over her shoulder. Michael was uncertain whether she would even hear him, but she must have; without looking up from her work, she spoke.
"Nope," she said shaking her head lightly. "I'll probably get some square symmetrical piece with a Koehler toilet," she finished, and Michael had to laugh.
"Okay," he said as he went to grab a pad for himself along with templates, rulers, protractors, and other items that he would need. He soon joined her on the couch and began to draw. She freehanded her work; he used his tools.
"How about we design them together?" he asked. "We can make drawings until they feel right."
Melanie paused, looked up, and stared at him. Her face was blank, and she blinked only once. Michael found it all amusing. She was thinking hard about the idea.
"No diamonds," she said as she pointed her pencil at him.
"Okay," he shrugged. "How about Jade?"
"Ooh, I love that," she said as her eyes went wide. "Or maybe black pearls. Can you cut pearls into segments and imbed them around a band?"
Michael had no idea and shrugged his shoulders. Melanie didn't take too much time considering it and soon went back to her drawing. Michael began to chuckle.
"What's so funny now?" she asked without looking up.
"Nothing, it's just that this is a great story. The first thing that you and I collaborate on are wedding rings," he said, and then turned his attention to his pad. He continued to chuckle as he did.
"Well, have a good laugh, funny man. These things are going to cost you a fortune," she said.
"Screw it, we'll have your asshole dad pay for them," he said.
Melanie suddenly looked over to Michael. His hand moved with precision, drawing quickly on the pad. He was so damn cute with that tablet, and his comment about her father was so flippant that she found it endearing. She threw her tablet to the side and went to his left side, pulling her knees up to her as she stared at him.
"Is there something I can help you with, sweetie," he said without taking his eyes of his drawing.
"Nope, I just wanted to say I love you," she said with a large smile.
Michael looked up and stared blankly at her. She smiled widely and gave him that cute innocent look.
"That's pretty bold," he said.
"Yep, but it feels right," she responded.
"Well, I guess someone had to be the first to say it," he chuckled and turned back to his drawing.
"Oh, Michael, you already told me you love me," she stated as she wrapped her arms around his forearm.
Michael turned to her quizzically. "When did I do that?"
She just cuddled up to him tighter.
"And I'm the flaky one," she laughed as she shook her head at Michael's confusion.
Chapter 19
The following night a loud knock on the door garnered Melanie's attention and she went to it quickly. There was no compunction about opening it, it wasn't her house, but she felt comfortable enough to treat it like it was hers; Michael saw to that.
"Brian," she said when she saw an Angel brother towering over her.
"Melanie," Brian stated coldly. "Is he here?"
"Yep," she said. "Come on in."
Brian passed Melanie and waited in the front living room while Melanie left to find Michael. It wasn't long before she returned with Michael in tow. The confused look on the eldest Angel's face was understandable. Brian certainly knew where all his brothers lived; he just chose not to visit with them.
"You owe mother an apology," Brian stated.
"Do I?" Michael asked.
Before anyone could say anything else, Brian punched Michael rapidly with a fist he had kept at the ready. The jab was quick, but hit home. Michael fell backwards a step and spread his arms which encountered the entryway walls to the kitchen, and as Brian moved forward, Michael regained his balance.
The came together and Brian caught Michael with a hook to his eye while Michael tried ducking to avoid the attack. It was a glancing blow but obviously made contact. Michael ignored it, wrapped his arms around his brother and shoved him backward slamming him against the door. A loud thud was heard as Brian's back made contact and his head shortly thereafter.
"Stop it," Melanie yelled.
She came to the two men and began to interject herself in between them. They were held tightly in a wrestling hold and she found it tough to get in between them.
"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" she cried in a loud shrill voice that caused the men to turn their heads to avoid the sound. She continued to yell until their bodies quit moving. They were still in a tight embrace, but at least they were not trying to actively kill each other.
"Get away from each other," she cried, and when the men didn't move, she yelled once more "NOW!"
Michael pushed backwards hard which slammed Brian into the door again. Brian took the hard shove physically well, but moved forward in an angry stance. He was unable to get anywhere because Melanie had moved within the space.
"It's my fault, Brian," she said. She didn't look at him directly. She was too busy keeping her arms spread like wings in an attempt to keep the men apart. When Michael tried to step forward, Melanie pointed her finger to him.
"Ah," she said curtly. "Not a single step, Michael Angel."
Brian tried to move away from the door.
"Ah, that goes for you to, Brian Angel," she said as she glared at him.
"Now you," she said to Michael. "Go take a seat at the dining room table."
Michael eyed her warily but she returned a look that did not allow for any defiance. She was angry and Michael nodded his head. His face displayed his own animosity, but he backed away and headed for the dining room.
"And you," she pointed a finger at Brian and then poked him in the chest. "How dare you come into my house and start this. Now, get in there and sit at the other end of the table, and don't say a word until I tell you."
She turned sideways and pointed her arm while extending a finger. Brian was at a loss for what to do. His eyes were wide, and unlike his brother, his anger was gone, replaced with confusion and wariness. When Melanie wiggled her hand as if to shoo him along, he complied.
She marched in directly behind Brian in order to ensure that the boys behaved themselves. They did. Brian took a seat at one head of the table while Michael was seated at the other. They stared icily at each other.
Melanie took a moment to look at Michael's eye and frowned. He wouldn’t need stitches, but he needed ice.
"I'll be right back," she said. "Don't say another word until I do."
"Asshole," Brian spat at Michael.
"Not in this house, Brian!" she yelled at him, and her angry stare told him to shut up.
"Ah," Michael said as he cringed. He had put his hand to his eye and winced in pain.
"Oh, don't be a baby," Melanie said as she began to leave in order to retrieve the ice. Brian chuckled, and she paused long enough to glare at him again. He stopped chuckling, but kept a defiant smile on his face.
It was not long before she returned with ice wrapped in a towel and handed it to Michael. He accepted it and applied it to his eye. Melanie took a seat between them on the side of the table and looked to each of them in turn.
<
br /> "Brian this is my fault, not Michael's," she said clearly.
"Oh really? You asked him to assault our mother?"
"Assault?" she asked incredulously.
Brian just stared at his brother; Michael returned the look.
"It wasn't that bad," Michael said eventually.
"She said you almost hit her," Brian said.
"Well she did hit me," was the reply.
"Oh, fucking grow up, pansy."
"Brian Angel, watch that mouth," Melanie cried out. Brian didn't turn his head away from his brother but his eyes turned to Melanie. After watching her icy stare, he gave the slightest nod. Melanie then turned to Michael.
"Is this true?" she asked.
Michael shrugged. "I was very angry, but I kept it in check." he stared at Brian, and then asked a curious question."Brian, exactly what did our mother say to you?"
Brian paused for a second and then related the story of the argument. It was as Michael expected—mostly true but edited for content. That was a typical tactic of their mother's, and Michael rolled his eyes as Brian finished.
"Did she tell you that she called Melanie a tramp?" Michael asked.
Brian sat upright. This news obviously shocked him. Before he could settle, Michael began to speak again.
"Now, little brother, let me tell you my side," he said, and then proceeded to give an unedited version of the argument. Melanie had not heard this much detail, but she knew it was true. Michael was just as hard on himself in this version as he was on his own mother. When he was finished, Brian nodded his head; he was much calmer.
"I owe you an apology, Melanie," he said as he shook his head.
"I think you owe it to Michael," she replied.
Both men suddenly burst into spontaneous laughter, and Melanie sat stock still in shock. The men continued to laugh and suddenly the tension was gone. For the life of her, Melanie couldn't understand what was happening.
"How about a beer, Brian?" Michael asked as he stood.
"Absolutely."
Michael went to fetch the beer and Melanie tilted her head oddly back and forth at Brian. He just watched her amusedly. It was not unlike how Michael watched her.
Enticing An Angel Page 15