Angel (Pieces #1.5)

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Angel (Pieces #1.5) Page 11

by Canosa, Jamie


  My mind went to the ‘not so nice’ parts of town and my thoughts took an unwelcome turn.

  “Have you decided what you’d like to eat?” The waitress was back, delivering a much needed mug of sustenance.

  We both ordered the banana pancakes before I was able to indulge in my first sip. I could literally feel my brain cells coming to life. My dramatic sigh brought Beth to laughter again. She laughed a lot. I liked that. There wasn’t nearly enough laughter in my life.

  “Fellow coffeeaholic like me, huh?” She took a sip of hers and groaned. “They make the best coffee, too.”

  “I have to admit it’s pretty good. And I’m a bit of a coffee snob. Not easily impressed.”

  “Glad I picked a place that could live up to your high standards, then. Not like that cart sludge they serve on campus.”

  “Definitely not.” I knew exactly what she was talking about. The coffee cart at school was fine in cases of emergency, but I definitely hadn’t visited it the handful of times I’d caved for the taste.

  “Here you are.” Two plates of steaming pancakes slid onto the table between us and the chunks of real banana baked in set my mouth to watering. “Can I get you anything else?”

  I turned down the offer of a refill and barely even noticed the waitress leaving. “This smells fantastic.”

  “Told ya so. Wait ‘til you taste it.” Beth cut off a chunk and shut her eyes as she slipped it past her lips.

  I caught myself staring. Not that I could be blamed, but still . . . Refocusing on the equally delectable food in front of me, I took a bite of my own.

  “Damn.”

  We lapsed into silence as we savored the sweet taste of bananas, walnuts, and maybe just a hint of vanilla? Whatever it was, it was incredible.

  “So . . .” Beth straightened in her seat and twisted a finger in her hair. She was trying to look nervous, but she wasn’t. Not really. I knew what nervous looked like and she never once broke eye contact. Beth had a ton of confidence. That could be a really attractive feature in a girl, but there was only one reason I could think of that she’d be pretending not to. “There’s this concert Friday night at the theater downtown. I was wondering if maybe you’d—”

  “Beth.” Dammit. I’d had a feeling this was headed somewhere last night, but held to the hope that I was overthinking things, letting my ego get in the way. Evidently, my ego was just fine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. I’m just . . . “

  Just what? Shutting down a perfectly nice girl?

  What was wrong with me? Beth was nice, and funny, and hot. We had a lot of similar interests. The girl was practically the female version of me, minus all the crap. But that was it. That was the difference. The crap hadn’t just affected my life, it had affected me. Changed me. Made me into who I was, for better or worse. Without that, I was . . . I didn’t know who I was, anymore.

  “I’m really busy right now. There’s a lot of stuff that I’m dealing with and I just don’t have the time for a relationship.” Or the emotional fortitude.

  The logic behind my decision was simple. Letting people in was done on a strict need basis. There were people I needed in my life. Beth wasn’t one of them.

  “It’s okay.” She smiled. Perfect, white teeth all lined up neatly between a pair of ruby red lips. Beth really was a beautiful girl, in the classic sense, but it took a lot more than a pretty face to impress me these days. “I get it. I’m really busy with school, too. The workload is crazy this year and it’s only pre-med. Things are just going to get crazier from here.”

  “Yeah.” I sank back in my chair and took another sip of coffee. “Crazy.”

  Fifteen

  The countdown had begun. Only twelve shopping days left. Somewhere there were a dozen drummers drumming. And the ‘spirit’ had yet to hit me. In fact, this time of year had become a bit depressing. Not because of Kiernan. Or Dad. But because that little kid, nauseating, so excited you’re going to puke feeling had disappeared. Overshadowed by reality, it just didn’t hold the same magical fascination it once had. And that sucked.

  Growing up sucked. I didn’t like it. But who said you had to? Kiernan didn’t have to. He was never even going to get the chance to. So how was it fair that he had to leave his childhood behind and yet never reach adulthood?

  It wasn’t.

  And my four AM, seriously sleep deprived brain had a solution for that.

  ***

  The boxes were all in the back of the attic, which was effing freezing. So much for heat rising. It was like the freaking arctic tundra up there. My toes grew numb while I sorted through mounds of shiny, glittery crap.

  What about Christmas demands sparkles? Did it suddenly become some sort of fairy holiday I was unaware of? I was going to have to shower for a week straight to get it all out of my hair.

  Looking a little like the jolly old elf, himself—with red nose and rosy cheeks—I hauled it all downstairs and set to work. It was a bigger project than I ever expected. Before dawn, I’d stabbed myself with more tacks than I cared to admit. Fingers wrapped in half-a-dozen Band-Aids, I cleared a path to the basement—and the fuse box—just in case. The two thousand extension cords it had taken me hours to connect and hide all coalesced through two separate surge protectors into one final plug I held in my hand. I was no electrician, but I didn’t have high hopes as I shoved it into the socket in the foyer and held my breath.

  No pops. No cracks. No spontaneous combustion. That was good.

  Slowly, I twisted away from the wall and . . . Wow. Not to ring my own bell, but . . . Yeah. Damn. Ding-a-ling. Even I had to admit, the sparkles worked. Who knew I had a future in interior design? Maybe all of those hours I’d spent pouring over medical texts had been a waste.

  Inhaling the invigorating scent of smooth, rich roasted beans, I indulged in a cautious sip of the scalding coffee. Black and hot, just the way I liked it. I could feel it burning a path all the way to my stomach, warming me from the inside out as I leaned against the counter and listened to Kiernan’s footsteps coming down the stairs.

  “Wow.” He backed into the room, still surveying my hard work. “Mom went all out this year, didn’t she?”

  I was sure she would have if she’d had the time. With the upturn in nasty weather, the hospital had been overcrowded and understaffed for weeks. Mom was pulling double, sometimes triple, shifts for no other reason than to help out. She was sleeping, eating, and showering there some days. I hadn’t even seen her in twenty-four straight hours. As far as I was concerned, she deserved all the credit in the world. “Looks like.”

  “Where is she, now?”

  “Back at the hospital.”

  “Like I needed to ask.” Kiernan deposited a large white box on the counter and reached for the coffee pot.

  “What’s in the box?”

  He only poured half a mug, and stopped to flip open the lid on his way to the fridge. Black boots with purple markings, fringed with white fur along the top sat nestled inside.

  “Nice style. Can’t wait to see what they look like on your feet.”

  “Shut up. They’re for Jade. For Christmas.” He dumped what looked to be about half a gallon of milk in his cup and turned to the sugar bowl.

  “You got her boots?” I had to hold my gag reflex in check while I watched him shovel sweetener into his mug, mix it all up, and take a healthy gulp. That was not coffee. What he had in his cup was closer to a coffee flavored milkshake. What a waste.

  “And a coat.”

  Oh, brother. He may have had his charms, but when it came to stuff like this, Kiernan was completely clueless. “How romantic.”

  “Stuff it. I wanted to get her a puppy, but I think her mom might have freaked. Besides, she needs a warm coat and you know she won’t be getting one anywhere else.”

  He had a point. His gifts were practical and sorely needed. Jade was the type of girl to appreciate that. But she was still a girl. And deep down, every girl wants something pretty.


  ***

  Playing super secret spy on Kiernan and Jade hadn’t been my plan. It just sorta . . . happened. I was sitting on the couch, flipping through the pages of a sci-fi novel I’d picked up at the library during my last ‘research’ run. It was good, but with the amount of homework the professors kept heaping on, it was difficult to find time for pleasure reading.

  I heard them come through the door and sank lower—concealing myself from view—for reasons I blame wholly on my ego. I wanted to experience her reaction, unhampered by my presence. I wanted Jade, real and unguarded. The way she only ever seemed to be around my brother.

  “It’s amazing.” I couldn’t see her face clearly from my position, but the wistful quality of her voice brought a smile to mine.

  And then . . . she laughed. A sound so beautiful I wished I could record it and play it back whenever I needed to hear it.

  Hello, ego, welcome to the surface.

  I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it. “I love the sound of your laugh. I don’t hear it nearly enough.”

  I grinned, listening to her sputter at Kiernan’s praise until the phone rang and he left to take the call.

  It had been nine days since I’d laid eyes on her. Nine precarious days without hearing her voice or having the slightest clue how things were going for her and her mother. Kiernan spoke with her every day by phone—sometimes several times a day—but I hadn’t heard from her, at all. I didn’t know how to take that. Whether things were going as smoothly as Kiernan seemed to believe, or if she was putting on a show for him and avoiding me, knowing I’d see straight through the bullshit. It was that second thought that kept me up at night.

  I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to know.

  “He’s right, you know.” I shoved up high enough to see her over the arm of the couch and watched as she nearly tripped over her feet in surprise. There was a moment of panic where I knew I’d never reach her in time if she went down, but it settled when she regained her balance. “You don’t laugh enough.”

  When I looked at her, I didn’t see shields. I saw Jade. A crimson flush creeping into her cheeks. She looked so . . . angelic. Like she should be sitting on top of our Christmas tree. I wanted to ask her how things were going. If her mother was doing alright. If she was alright. But I could hear Kiernan wrapping up the call in the kitchen.

  She looked okay. Better than okay. She looked happy. A new look for her. One that I liked. A lot. I’d have to be satisfied with that, sinking back down on the cushions as footsteps bounded down the hall. For now.

  ***

  The clang of weights was starting to give me a headache. After Kiernan and Jade took off, I’d hit the gym. The one located in the east end of the first floor.

  Jeez, I lived in a house with an ‘east end’, how pompous did that sound?

  Usually I preferred the public gym. More people, more distractions. But I wasn’t feeling particularly social. Lack of sleep made me cranky, so I was keeping to myself. For the safety of others.

  I did have one stop on my to-do list for the day, though. The auto parts store. I could have just taken my baby to the shop. I was by no means a qualified mechanic, but a friend of mine from back home—or back where home used to be—had taught me a thing or two about cars. He’d always insisted that if I got lazy and let money take care of what I could do myself, it would have been a waste of his time. We wouldn’t want that. Plus, getting under the hood of a car was about the best way I could think of to reclaim my manhood after my recent delve into the lifestyles of Martha Stewart. Therefore, despite the fact that it was as cold as a penguin’s ass in January, the new air filter was going in today.

  Dropping the barbell back in its cradle, I reached for a towel to wipe the sweat stinging my eyes. I’d done enough. My arms were starting to feel watery and it wasn’t safe to continue without a spotter.

  After a quick rinse in the shower, I was coasting down Main Street looking for an open parking spot. The only available one was outside the jewelry store. A small place, locally owned, with a lot of unique, one-of-a-kind pieces. It’s not like I spent a lot of time perusing diamond earrings and platinum bracelets, but I took the occasional peek when I passed by. Some of their stuff was incredible. Too bad I had no one to buy it for.

  Today was no different. The absurd sapphire hanging on display caught my attention and suckered me right in. The giant thing was encrusted in diamonds and looked ridiculously like something right out of Titanic. Money generally wasn’t a major concern for me, but even I cringed at the thought of the price tag attached.

  “Like that, you should see some of the stuff they have inside.”

  Startled—and somewhat embarrassed to be caught scoping out women’s jewelry—I twisted around to find Marjorie examining the necklace beside me.

  “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  “Shopping.” She hefted the multiple bags dangling from her arms like that should have been some sort of clue. “What’s it look like?”

  Marjorie wasn’t the . . . warmest person I’d ever met, but I was getting a particularly frigid vibe from her today.

  “Come and look.” She opened the door and stood there holding it, not giving me much of a choice but to accompany her inside.

  She wasn’t wrong. The sheer variety alone was impressive. Not everything was as gaudy as the stuff they put on display. Some of it was actually quite . . . elegant.

  “So, are you shopping for someone . . . special?”

  And why did that sound like it had a whole lot of hidden meaning behind it?

  “No. No one special.” No one, at all.

  “Oh, silly me. Here, I thought you’d grown half a brain since shooting Beth down.” Marjorie tipped her head back to glare up at me, not intimidated in the slightest by the massive size difference between us.

  “I didn’t shoot her down, Marjorie.” And I didn’t have the patience for this. “I’m just—”

  “Busy. Yeah. So I’ve heard.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Sounds like a copout to me.” With barely a glance around, she headed back toward the door. “Just in case you work out your issues . . . She’s got a thing for rubies.”

  “Okay.” But rubies were the furthest thing from my mind as the door jingled shut behind her.

  All of my thoughts centered on a single piece hanging behind glass on the wall.

  “Is there something I can help you with?” A woman bustled out from the back room, wiping her hands on the front of her jeans. “So sorry. I was just eating lunch.”

  “No . . .” My brain was operating in slow-mo, most of its power diverted to trying to convince me to let it go. But I’d zeroed in on it and it was like the rest of the world just disappeared. It was . . . perfect. “It’s okay.”

  I really did try to ignore it. To forget about it. Walk away and leave it alone. It wasn’t my place to be giving her pretty things. But as I watched the store clerk box the sparkling, silver angel wing pendant and handed her my credit card, I convinced myself that it was for Jade, not from me.

  It didn’t matter who paid for it. She deserved to have it.

  Sixteen

  Hypnotizing flames flickered as a familiar warmth wrapped around my gooseflesh. I was the first one up Christmas morning, so I’d shuffled downstairs like some kind of zombie to get a fire started in the living room. Not as impressive as it sounds.

  I would’ve loved to have built the thing from scratch. Stacking the wood just right, feeding the flames, giving them room to breathe and grow. I could do it. I used to love camping along the coast with my friends. We’d spend entire weekends on the shore hanging out, talking, listening to music, maybe drinking a little. We used to build bonfires on the sand. Burning entire tree branches. Seeing how high we could coax the flames.

  Here, all I had to do was flip a switch.

  Sinking onto the sofa, I watched them dance and play. Allowing them to draw me back to a place I usually avoided going. I missed the pops an
d cracks of real wood. The hum of familiar voices. The shouts and laughter and the sand between my toes. Everything had seemed so easy back then. Like life had been handed to me on a silver platter to enjoy.

  Then, Kiernan was diagnosed. And I realized that platter could be snatched away as quickly as it was given. My friends no longer knew how to be around me. They didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to act. Neither did I.

  Nothing was easy anymore.

  The ceiling above me creaked. Kiernan was moving around his room. It took some effort to shake the melancholy that was quietly creeping over me, but I did it. It was Christmas. And it was going to be the best damn Christmas any of us had ever seen.

  The kitchen was Mom’s domain. Generally, you entered at your own risk, but today, I thought it worth it. Pulling out a frying pan, a few bowls, and a wire whisk, I cracked a dozen eggs, chopped some broccoli, peppers, onions, and ham, and threw in some butter and milk. You didn’t live with my mother your whole life and not learn a thing or two about cooking.

  “Mmm. What’s that smell?” Kiernan’s arms were extended high overhead as he arched his back into a stretch.

  “Farmer’s omelets. Want one?” I slid the spatula under the fluffy eggs and wiggled my first masterpiece onto a plate.

  “Is that a question?”

  No. It really wasn’t. The plate landed in front of Kiernan without waiting for an answer. I dumped the next batch into the pan while he snagged a fork from the cutlery drawer and plopped down at the kitchen table.

  “Mms ss elly ood.” He sounded like he was speaking some alien language through the massive bite he was trying to chew and swallow at the same time, but I could hear a compliment when I got one.

  “Thanks. Is Mom up?”

  “Yeah. She’s in the shower.”

  Good to know. I was using her stove, the least I could do was have a yummy breakfast ready to appease her wrath when she found out. The concoction bubbled and solidified in the pan. The scent alone had my stomach growling by the time the second omelet was done, but I set it aside for Mom and moved onto the third.

 

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