by C. L. Wilson
Maya’s rapid approach faltered for a split second, her eyes widening, but she recovered with a gracious, welcoming smile.
“Kat, I’m so glad you could come.” With any other friend, Maya would have held out her arms in greeting, but she had learned years ago not to offer hugs to Kat. Instead, Maya turned her attention to Micah, and though she was much more self-contained than Zoe had been, there was no mistaking the clear interest in her intelligent brown gaze.
“Maya, this is my…friend, Micah. Micah, this is Maya Simon. Maya, I hope you don’t mind that I brought Micah with me. He arrived…unexpectedly from out of town and is staying with me.”
“Of course I don’t mind. The more, the merrier. Micah, it’s such a pleasure to meet you. You’re the first friend Kat’s ever brought over.” She hesitated, clearly uncertain whether or not Micah shared Katrina’s quirks about touching people, but when he freed one hand from Kat’s waist and held it out, Maya smiled and shook his hand. “Please, come on in, both of you. Terrel’s out back, firing up the grill.” She rolled her eyes. “I swear that man would grill in subzero temperatures.” Terrel was Maya’s husband, a former Atlanta Falcon football player whose injuries had ended his sports career after a few short years.
“I’ll go get him!” Zoe offered, and off she ran, her beaded braids bouncing against her shoulders.
As Maya led the way through down the hall towards the family room, she said, “So, Micah, have you and Kat known each other long?”
“I’ve known her all her life,” Micah said, at the same time Kat said, “No, not long.”
Maya’s brows rose.
“Micah knew me years ago, when my parents were still alive,” Kat explained. “He only recently got in touch with me again. I keep telling him he can’t say he’s known me all my life when we spent most of that life in separate states.” She inwardly cringed at the way she’d just twisted truth like a pretzel, but Maya seemed to buy the explanation.
They’d reached the kitchen, a beautiful, spacious, chef’s paradise, which Terrel—who was now a general contractor—had completely remodeled with antiqued cream wood cabinetry, granite countertops and stainless steel appliances. The kitchen opened up to a great room with whose vaulted ceiling was currently filled with colorful balloons and streamers and a string of shiny metallic letters that spelled Happy Birthday Isabella. It was tradition in the Simon house not to put up Christmas decorations until after Izzy’s party. Large glass windows looked out over the heavily wooded back yard and a spacious deck with a huge outdoor grill and a space heater that had been Maya’s gift to Terrel last year. Standing by the grill, Terrel was currently bending down while Zoe whispered in his ear.
“Where’s Isabella?” Kat asked as she added her present for Maya’s daughter with the others.
“Resting.” Maya’s smile grew strained. “It’s hasn’t been a good day.” She switched her gaze to Micah. “Our youngest daughter has bone cancer.”
“So I understand,” Micah said. “Katrina has been very concerned about her.”
The outside door opened. Stomping to knock the slushy snow off his shoes, Terrel swung Zoe inside then stepped in after her. “It’ll be just a few minutes on the grill.” His gaze went immediately to Micah, doing that narrow-eyed, sizing-up-the-interloper thing that men so loved to do. The look rolled off Micah like water off a duck’s back. The angel was not susceptible to intimidation. At least not the sort of intimidation that came from a six foot four, two hundred fifty pound former linebacker.
“This is Micah,” Maya said. “He’s known Kat since they were children together.”
Terrel eyed Micah. “Has he now? Funny, in all the years we’ve known her, she never mentioned him. Not even once.”
“Terrel,” Maya said, her tone chiding.
“It’s all right, Maya,” Micah said. “Your husband is protective of the women he cares about. I respect that. I am grateful that Katrina has had you both in her life these last eight years. She needed you, in more ways than she ever knew.”
That took them all aback, including Kat. A smile softened the serious line of Micah’s mouth, and his eyes warmed as he met her gaze. A fierce tingle of connection fired across every nerve ending. Magnetic attraction. Physical, yes, but so much more than that. It was as if every part of him fit her perfectly.
“Why don’t you go check on Isabella, baby?” Maya suggested to her husband. “I promised we’d wake her when Kat arrived.”
Terrel disappeared down a hallway off the great room. Fifteen minutes later, he returned pushing a wheelchair containing a small, wan girl dressed in a bright pink dress. A matching scarf, covered with shimmering, snow-flake shaped beads, was wrapped around her head. The instant she saw Kat, a big, gap-toothed smile spread across her face and she gave a happy squeal.
“Auntie Kat!”
Kat crossed the room in a few quick strides and, after the briefest hesitation, bent down to hug the girl. “Hello, sweetie. Happy birthday.”
“Auntie Kat,” Isabella breathed when Kat pulled away, “you hugged me.”
“I guess I did, didn’t I?” Her heart was beating double-time, and her palms had gone a little sweaty from nerves, but she’d done it. With a self-conscious laugh, Kat pulled back. Everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing to stare. Everyone, that is, except Micah, whose eyes held only approval, not surprise.
I owe you for that, she thought, and his smile deepened. Kat smiled back and held out a hand to him. “Isabella, I want you to meet my friend Micah.”
As he approached, Isabella’s eyes went big and round. “Have you come to take me to Heaven?”
###
“I’m sorry about that,” Maya said a short while later as she and Kat chopped vegetables for the salad. “The ideas that girl gets in her head.” Maya shook her head and glanced over into the great room, where Micah, Zoe and Isabella were playing a game of Clue. “Although, granted, if angels really do look like him, Heaven’s pretty darned heavenly.”
Kat smothered a laugh. “You sound like my neighbor, Josie.” She had to admit, Micah had handled Isabella with aplomb. While her parents had sputtered with jaws dropped open and Kat had been paralyzed with fear that Micah might blurt out the truth, the angel had calmly knelt by Isabella’s side, taken her small, thin hand, and said, “No little one. I have come with my friend Katrina to wish you a happy birthday.”
She wondered if he hadn’t worked a little angel mojo as well, because Isabella had stared into his eyes for what seemed like a very long time, then just smiled, said “Nice to meet you, Micah. Do you play Clue?” The rest of them had laughed in bewilderment, then Terrel and Maya had tried to snap everything back into normalcy by jumping into the final preparations for dinner. Terrel was outside grilling the steaks, Micah was entertaining the girls, and Maya and Kat were making the salad.
“You know how I feel about prying,” Maya said, “but you’re family, Katrina, so a little prying’s to be expected. You know I have to ask. Have you really known him all your life? And if he’s such a close friend that you’d let him stay over at your apartment, then why haven’t you ever mentioned him to us before?”
Kat went still, her knife poised over the washed red pepper she’d been about to slice. “Micah’s okay, Maya,” she assured her friend sincerely. “You don’t have to worry about him with either of the girls. I would never bring anyone here who wasn’t completely trustworthy.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t,” Maya said. “That thought never even crossed my mind. In all my life, I’ve never met another person better than you at knowing who’s all right and who to stay away from. It’s like a sixth sense.”
More like an angelic gift, Kat thought. Just like her child-whispering.
Kat diced a red pepper and tossed into the waiting salad bowl.
“I’m not asking about Micah because I think he might be dangerous,” Maya continued. “I’m asking because I love you, Kat—Terrel and I both do—and this is the first time you’
ve ever brought anyone to meet us. It’s only natural we want to know more about him. Like everything.” She smiled to show that she was only partially serious about the last comment.
“I can’t tell you everything.” Mostly because she didn’t know everything. “But I can tell you he’s a good man.” Kat’s gaze wandered helplessly towards the direction of the great room, where Micah and the girls were crowded around the coffee table playing their game. Of course, he wasn’t a man. Even though he looked like one. And not just a man, but Man with a capital Mmmm. Man Ultra. Kat flushed at the inevitable direction of her thoughts.
“Interesting.”
Kat flicked a glance at Maya. “What’s interesting?”
“You like him.”
Kat’s shoulders lifted in a fake attempt at a careless shrug. “I like plenty of people.”
“No, Katrina. I mean you like him.”
Kat set her knife down. “I do not.”
“Deny it all you like. I’m not buying.” Maya ripped the plastic wrap off a box of mushrooms and dumped them in a colander. She sprayed the mushrooms to wash off any remaining soil, then began to chop. “You have a sense about people—about whether they’re good or not, honest or not. Well, I have a sense too, Kat. I can sense when two people are attracted to one another. And the two of you”—she paused to fan her face—”are definitely attracted.”
Kat scowled and hacked at the innocent vegetable on her chopping block. “Even if that’s true—and I’m not saying it is—it doesn’t matter. Micah’s leaving on Monday.”
“Just because that’s his plan doesn’t make it so.” Maya smiled. “Sometimes, a woman has to take what she wants.”
“I don’t want Micah.” The lie lay bitter on her tongue.
“Well, if you don’t, that’s a real shame, then,” Maya murmured. “Because he definitely doesn’t feel that way. He’s hardly taken his eyes off you since you got here.” Slice, slice, slice. A mushroom sundered beneath Maya’s expertly flashing blade. “And since he’s the first man I’ve ever seen you willingly put your hands on, I was sort of hoping you’d finally found the happiness you deserve. Sort of your own, private little Christmas miracle.” Maya arched a brow and set down her knife to take a long, leisurely sip of red wine.
###
Maybe it was Maya’s mention of a Christmas miracle. Or maybe it was the way Isabella had instinctively known Micah was an angel, then promptly assumed he’d come because she was going to die tonight. Or maybe it was just observing the contrast between Micah’s strength and vitality next to Isabella’s wan frailty as they sat beside each other at the dinner table.
Whatever the cause, at some point during dinner, Katrina found herself wondering if Micah actually could work a Christmas miracle. Oh, not the romantic happily-ever-after Maya had in mind, but a real miracle.
A healing sort of miracle.
It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. After all, the angel had healed Kat of her injuries that first night.
After dinner, Maya lit the candles on Isabella’s cake, a lovely confection featuring all of the Disney princesses. Zoe helped her sister blow out the candles, and after eating their cake and ice cream, they gathered around the coffee table in the great room.
Kat sat next to Micah and found herself leaning against him as Isabella opened her presents. They were mostly all books and crafts. Isabella loved reading and doing crafts. They helped pass the time when she was in the hospital or undergoing chemo. Kat had gotten her a complete set of Andrew Lang’s fairy tale collection.
She watched the little girl pore through the exquisitely bound fairy tale collection, oohing and ahing over the gorgeous illustrations. Without help, Kat doubted Isabella would live long enough to read through that entire collection, and the thought of it ripped at Kat’s heart. She squeezed Micah’s hand hard to stop from crying.
If you can heal her, you have to do it, she thought forcefully. She turned her head, meeting his gaze in a fierce challenge. You need me to forgive my grandparents and sing to the Seal. Well, that’s my price. Heal Isabella, and I’ll somehow find a way to forgive them and do what you need me to do.
He held her gaze, his expression calm, his eyes intent. “This is your choice? Made of your own free will?” He kept his voice so low none of the others could hear.
She nodded. “Yes”
He raised his hand and brushed a feather-light caress across her skin. “So be it.”
###
In Isabella’s frail state, it didn’t take much to tire her out. Within an hour of opening her presents, she began to slump in her wheelchair. Over protests silenced only when Kat and Micah promised to read a couple of her new fairy tales to her before they left, Maya whisked her youngest off to get ready for bed.
When Isabella was bathed, night-gowned and tucked into bed, Kat and Micah walked back to her bedroom with one of the Lang fairy tale books in hand. Terrel, Maya, and Zoe crowded in the room, too, making Kat fret that Micah wouldn’t be left alone to work his angel mojo, but just as Kat finished the first fairy tale, Terrel suddenly remembered he had to go clean the grill. A minute after that, Zoe suddenly remembered that she had homework to do and ran off to do it. Midway through the second fairy tale, Zoe called her mother to come help her.
“Go, Maya,” Kat told her friend. “I’ve only got a few pages left.”
When they were gone, Kat pushed the bedroom closed and turned to the angel. “What do you need me to do?” She had no doubt he’d somehow “arranged” for Maya, Terrel and Zoe to leave the room.
“Just keep reading.” Micah walked around to the other side of Isabella’s bed.
“What’s going on?” Isabella asked.
Micah smiled gently. “One last birthday present from your Auntie Kat, sweetheart. I need you to close your eyes and lie quietly. Can you do that for me?”
Isabella stared up at him with earnest eyes. “Are you going to take me to heaven now?”
Kat’s heart rose in her throat, but Micah only smoothed a strong hand across Isabella’s hairless little skull. “No, little one.” His voice resonated with gentle reassurance. “That’s not why I’ve come.”
“Can I at least see your wings before I close my eyes?”
Micah didn’t even try to deny what he was. “If that is your wish.” He bent to press a kiss on Isabella’s forehead. When he straightened all pretense at humanity had dropped away from him. Though he kept his wings folded so as not to disturb the contents of Isabella’s room, they fluttered at his sides, spreading just enough to make Isabella’s eyes go wide and her mouth form a round O of awed wonder.
“Now close your eyes, Isabella-dulcea, and listen to the sound of your Auntie Kat’s voice.” He nodded at Kat, who resumed reading the fairy tale. Without conscious effort, her voice fell into the child whispering rhythm and Isabella’s small face went lax as she drifted off to sleep.
“Keep reading,” Micah said, then he closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and began speaking in a language Kat did not recognize. The tones and rhythm of his voice merged with hers. He began to glow with gold and white angelic radiance and her skin went warm as his power washed over her. Her voice trembled, but she continued to read.
The angel’s wings spread wider, their whiteness dazzling now. He held his hands over Isabella’s body, palms down, fingers splayed. Kat felt a tug in her chest that made her arch her back, as if the angel was drawing something from deep inside her. Radiance poured from his hands into Isabella like rivers of golden sunlight, and the child’s skin lit up, turning a translucent rose filled with the delicate traceries of her blood vessels.
The tone of Micah’s chant grew forceful, commanding. Kat found herself clipping her words in a sharp counter beat, and for a moment she floated free of herself. She was still sitting in the pink ruffled chair by Isabella’s bedside. She was still reading from the Andrew Lang fairy tale book. But she was also floating outside herself, pouring down the stream of light emanating from Micah’s hands, rush
ing through the veins and arteries and tiny capillaries in Isabella’s body.
“Good God.” The sound of Maya’s shocked exclamation yanked Kat back into her own body. She turned to find her friend in the now-open doorway to Isabella’s room, gaping at the sight of the radiant angel standing over her child’s body.
Katrina! Micah’s voice rapped in her mind.
She turned back to him, tried to pick up the rhythm of the story again, but she was too aware of Maya, and she couldn’t recapture that strange, out-of-body feeling. Micah continued to chant for a few minutes more, but his blinding brightness faded rapidly. Within a few minutes, his angelic radiance was muted golden glow.
Maya was still staring at him, mouth agape. She reached out to grab the doorframe for support. “Is he—are you—my God, Kat! Micah is…an angel?”
Micah drew a deep breath. His wings still visible and folded against his back, he circled Isabella’s bed and laid a hand on Maya’s stunned face. “Be at peace, Maya Simon.” Maya’s eyes glazed, though she remained standing, and Micah turned to hold a hand out to Katrina. “We should go now.”
The moment her hand slipped into his, he pulled her hard against him, and wrapped his arms and wings tight around them both.
“Close your eyes, carissima,” he said. She did, and the world flashed bright against her shut eyelids. The next minute, they were standing in the center of her living room. Micah released her and stumbled, falling first to his knees, then toppling over.
“Micah!” she cried. She fell to her knees beside him. His skin was cold and pallid white. His eyes were closed, sheaves of blond hair spilled across his face. She couldn’t feel a pulse. “Micah!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
After the initial rush of panic, Kat finally did detect a pulse. It was weak and thready, but still a pulse, which was good, because she didn’t dare call 911. Even with Micah unconscious, his wings remained very much in evidence, and Kat had no way of explaining that to the authorities.