When Elvis released my hand to open the door to my room, the separation from his touch woke me from my thoughts. Standing in the open air corridor, rain drops, the size of marbles, began to fall. I watched as each one, unique from the other, splashed to the ground outside the shelter overhead.
“I’ll be in my room if you should need me,” Elvis said softly.
“But…” I started, but was interrupted by the seemingly always impossibly timed ringing of my cell phone.
I made no move to answer it.
“You should take this call, honey.” Elvis looked pointedly at my purse.
Sighing, I began to rummage around. And I was just about to give up when my fingers stumbled over their mark.
“Hello,” I grumbled.
“Samantha?” My father’s reprimanding tenor fired in my ear.
A smirk slipped over Elvis’ lips as he stepped to the doorway.
“D…Daddy?” I stuttered like a child caught sneaking out of the house.
Elvis pushed the door open and stepped aside. I hurried past my angel, nibbling absorbedly on the tip of my finger nail.
“Where are you?”
Silence.
I prayed this would be the time I could quickly deliver an acceptable response to my father.
“Sa-man-tha.” He spoke my name in broken syllables which was never a good sign.
When I still didn't respond, Elvis only chuckled and then reached over to gently remove my finger from my mouth.
“I’m here, Daddy.”
After a soft kiss goodbye, Elvis initiated his departure.
“Where in the world are you, baby girl?”
I watched as Elvis crossed my room, and headed towards the adjoining door that led to his. For once, I did not dwell on the emptiness of his leaving. Instead, I was taking too long to give my father an answer, and could think of nothing he’d want to hear that wasn’t a bold-faced lie.
Elvis paused briefly, watching me in sideways glances. Only the truth will do, I realized. And my angel gave a nod, an indication of his approval, before stepping through the door and closing it behind him with a smile.
“I’m in Alabama?” My confession sounded more like an inquiry to what I hoped was a good answer.
“Alabama?” Daddy’s voice rose.
“See, daddy, it’s complicated, but I had gone to Memphis and…”
“Yes, yes, Heather mentioned that, but why are you driving back to Atlanta, Samantha?”
Heather, her name meant this phone call wasn’t random at all. If daddy had called Heather, then that action alone sparked a dozen red flags. Heather and my father rarely spoke. They were opposites, often agreeing to disagree. Suddenly, I was listening very carefully.
“I appreciate everyone’s concern daddy, but I just needed some time to myself.”
“Well, I don’t think a female should be driving that far alone.” My father grumbled.
“I know you’re worried, but I will call you first thing tomorrow morning. I promise.”
“Well, I suppose that’ll have to do.”
“Daddy, were you napping earlier?” I casually shifted the subject. I knew good and well how much he loved his ritualistic afternoon nap.
“What?”
“Did you get your nap today?”
“Why?”
“Was it a pleasant sleep, Daddy?”
“A pleasant sleep?” He repeated my question, slowly, and after a noticeable pause.
My father was never at ease discussing things of the heart, unless it was in the safety of a large church congregation.
“Did you have sweet dreams?” I held back a snicker.
“What does any of this have to do with you driving alone across the country?” Daddy’s voice rose once again.
“Nothing, I was just checking to see you were getting your rest.”
There was no need for me to question further. My father’s inability to share his dream told me all I needed to know. He had indeed been dreaming, just as Elvis had said. I smiled, happy to prove my angel was right: love does reach to Heaven.
“I have to go now, Daddy. I’ll call you soon.”
“But…”
“I love you.”
“What?”
“I said, I-love-you.” I chuckled.
“I love you, too, baby girl. Be careful, please.”
“I will,” I said in close, and hung up the phone, flopping gratefully onto the well-worn hotel bed.
My father was worried. And as much as that warmed me, it also concerned me. It was unusual for Heather to involve my father in my crisis. It went against the best-friend clause. Something was out of place. I vowed to get to the bottom of it.
Chapter 14
Standing at the window, I mindlessly twisted my hair. I watched as the rain bounced in a deluge of tiny circular balls from every roof top. The reverberation was hypnotic. And when the sky sparked with a flash, and a moment later a loud crack sounded, I almost jumped out of my skin.
The clock by the bed displayed the default time of 12:00. This storm could last all night, I moaned, and glanced at his closed door. As much as I wanted to knock, I had to consider if it wasn’t best that we stayed apart for the evening. My heart sank with the thought. Then again, if he invites me into his sanctuary, I might actually sleep, I thought, and tilted my eyes to the heavens.
“I promise to behave,” I told the Lord, and then smiled.
Who would have thought that shy little-me would actually be considered a threat? And while I stood there, staring at the four beige walls around me, I half expected God’s response to appear like with Moses and the burning bush. Absurd, I let out a chuckle, but then quickly held my breath to listen. Nothing. Shrugging, I opened my travel bag and dug for my sleep wear resigning to a night alone. I lifted my cherry-red silk night gown, and could not help but frown. How presumptuous of me. I should have brought my flannels!
Standing in front of the vanity mirror, I brushed out my long dark hair, stealing a glance back to the door between me and my angel with every stroke. Daddy always did have the worst timing, I pouted. Elvis all but ran to the solitude of his room.
I slipped on my night-gown and sat down on to the edge of the bed with a sigh. The long shiny fabric reached my feet, and I realized my toes matched the garment perfectly. The irony of such a thought-out detail, made me laugh out loud. And then in looking down to my low neck line, I rolled my eyes and flopped back to the bed.
Unease sank in. Lying on my back, I counted the tiny flakes that sparkled inside the aged plaster on the ceiling. I stroked my stomach, shifting the soft fabric over my skin with the palm of my hand in small comforting circles. What was he thinking leaving me here alone? He knows I’m a big chicken.
I should go over there and knock on the door, I craned my head to look over at the barrier. It seemed to glow red with a forbidden do-not-enter sign. Sighing, I lifted one shapely leg into the air and pointed my toes upward. The fabric fell to my hips. I had my mama’s legs, I considered, slender yet shapely.
“Samantha!” A voice bellowed from next door, and my startled scream filled the room. I slapped my hand to my mouth, and jumped off the bed. What’d I do now?
My bare feet padded on the worn carpet as I drew near the door and laid my head against the aged wood.
“Come in here, Samantha.”
Grimacing, I cracked the door and peeked. I spotted Elvis’ long, lean frame lounging across the bed, his gaze focused on a thick book he held in his hand. My mind switched channels, and the seductive entrance I had many times rehearsed in my head in preparation for just this opportunity was useless here. Besides, he was reading the Bible, and probably the King James version.
He was fully dressed, right down to his well-shined boots. I stood momentarily paralyzed, both wanting and feeling unworthy of his attention. And when his eyes rolled up from the good-book and settled on me, I fought the urge to tug at my nightdress.
“I-I was lonely in there all by myself,” I
pointed back to my room, where oddly I was ready to return at any moment.
Elvis pursed his lips and nodded.
“I was!” I set my jaw, all too aware of the message my alluring attire must be suggesting.
In what looked to me like slow motion, he closed the imposing black book calmly inside his two hands. Unable to maintain my insolence, I dropped my stare to his boots, which were as still as the wind before a striking tornado. That nervous energy, he always seemed unable to control, was gone. He seemed to be having a moment of — I didn’t know what — an evaluation of his own emotional condition or contemplation over my motives, but once again, I compulsively began to nibble on my finger nail.
“Alright, get in.” Elvis said, and I could have sworn I saw his lips twitch before he quickly regained his control.
With the Bible still in his strong hands, he folded his arms over his chest and watched me attempt to get comfortable in my new environment. I wriggled into position as the golden etched bindings nearly glowed in the dim lamp light.
“Situated?” His eyes danced.
“Yes, thank you.”
“You should be the one reading this, you know.”
“I read the Bible.” I said rather smartly for a woman who didn’t want to sleep alone.
His eyes widened. “Oh? Was it while you were planning your, uh… attire.” His eye brows quivered like that Marx brothers’ character from the movies. All he lacked was that absurd cigar.
“Funny. If I make you uncomfortable, I can leave.” I sat up.
“No, you don't,” he snatched me by the arm with a chuckle. “I-I think I can handle you.”
He was joking, but I could feel his hand trembling as he held my arm firm. The struggle we were destined to share was painfully real.
“Your virtue is safe anyway, I promised the Boss.” I tried to lighten the situation, and he struggled to hold his composure.
He drew in a deep breath, through his nostrils, which evoked a sensual snarl that quickly tickled me. And when I started to laugh, he managed to hold his chuckle for only a fraction of a second before he slipped into outright laughter.
“Was the promise made with or without crossing your fingers?” He roared, and his humor skipped as he tried to catch his breath.
I shook my head at him. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I said with a smile that only grew wider the more he laughed.
“Well, if you weren’t so cute mad,” he brushed the bridge of his nose with his hand, an attempt to hide his amusement.
“Very funny. Why don’t you be a good angel and read me something from the Bible?” I slipped my hand under my pillow and settled in.
Elvis regarded me with great interest before opening the thick book. His eyes scanned the delicate pages as if trying to decide what was best.
“Here, lets read like my daddy used to when I was small,” I leaned over and placed a finger randomly on the page. “I’ll pick, and then you read.”
He watched me with eyes that sparkled with humor, and then without a word, he looked down and began.
“My God sent his angel and shut the lions’ mouth, so that they may not hurt me.”
When he was done, his face softened in the same peaceful way my father’s used to when in awe of God’s perfect timing. I wanted to reach out to him, but instead rested a soft touch to his arm. No words were needed to describe the feelings that lingered under all of our jousting.
“Come’ ere, let me hold you.” A sensual smile flickered across his lips.
“I gave my word.” I heaved a sigh, and enjoyed his exaggerated scowl.
“Get over here, woman,” he grumbled as he slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me into his arms.
Side by side we lay. Inside his embrace, a different kind of love stirred. It far overshadowed the physical passions between a man and a woman. We were bonded by something stronger than the flesh, and I knew he wished more for me than a single moment of passion. He wished for me what he could not give me — a lifetime, my lifetime, of love.
If only I could convince my heart.
Chapter 15
I opened my eyes slowly, briefly unfamiliar with my surroundings. In all my years as a flight attendant, and all the successive mornings of waking up someplace different than the day before, this feeling of disorientation should not have startled me. However, on this morning, one thing was pleasantly different. I was not alone. A heat radiated by my side. At first I had not noticed his presence, having forgotten whose bed I had fallen asleep. But then, my mind cleared, and I realized that my angel was sleeping only inches from my side.
Slowly, I rolled over to see my living dream. He had his back to me, and slept with one arm tucked under his pillow. He looked as peaceful as a sleeping child, his shoulders rising and falling in rhythm with his every breath. He wore no shirt, and for a moment I fantasized about what else was missing, and then remembered the promises and realizations of last night.
Slowly, and pausing often to see that I had not disturbed his slumber, I inched closer. I didn't dare breathe as I leaned over him to gaze at his face. To see those pouting lips with a hint of a curl, even present as he slept, made me smile. I longed to wrap my arms around him and cuddle closer, molding my body with his from behind.
Deep in sleep, he shifted slightly on his pillow, and a patch of blue-black hair drifted over his left eye. My hand shook as I reached out to gently brush away the obstacle and unblock my view. He stirred, and his eyes fluttered open like an oyster displaying the pearl gems inside. Slow to come out of his dreams, he glanced around and seemed unfamiliar with his own surroundings. I had never considered that angels would suffer that same confusion.
“I thought angels didn’t sleep,” I whispered, and his head turned to look over his left shoulder, towards my voice.
He inhaled deeply, taking in his first deep breath of the morning, and rolled over. When our bodies touched under the covers, my temperature rose.
“I’m making up for all those years I couldn’t.” He said, his lips shifting into a slow easy smile as he took my hand and lifted my fingers to his mouth for a good morning kiss.
Content, he placed my hand flat against his bare chest. His soft chest hairs felt like silk rose pedals under my touch, and I resisted the urge to lower my nose to his sweetness and inhale his scent.
“Catching up on lost winks?”
“Something, like that,” he yawned and his nose wrinkled so sweetly, I laid a finger to it.
I giggled openly as he looked from my face to my finger and back again. And when a mischievous look flashed in his eyes, I braced myself. His reflexes were fast, and I barely flinched when Elvis shifted his weight and repositioned himself over me. Flat on my back, the weight of his body pressed heavily against my small frame. His belt buckle dug into my stomach, proving he was indeed dressed from the waist down.
“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you how to give a man his proper good mornings?” He asked, still grinning from ear to ear.
It's true; I enjoyed the round-and-a-round nature of our teasing games. Flirting was all I was allowed to enjoy, but there was one problem. Elvis played to win! One could be sure there’d be no mercy, and cheating was never completely off the table.
“I know how to greet my man in the morning, yes.” I played my part perfectly.
“Well, then?” His smile shined over me.
“You’re not my man.” I said, and his only response was the shifting of his gaze to my lips. My game plan quickly distorted. “Y-you’re my, uh… angel and all, but,”
“You talk too much," he droned, "just kiss me.”
He asked for it, I thought while reaching up to wrap both hands around his neck and pulling him to my lips. I kept my eyes open long enough to see his rising in stunned surprise, his complaint muffled by my lips. And when he jerked back, licking at his bottom lip, I let loose a burst of laugher.
“A-ha, a-ha, a-ha…” He mimicked.
“I always wanted a crazy sta
ge-side kiss,” I laughed harder.
“You…,” was all I heard him say before I felt his teeth nibbling on the side of my neck.
I screamed, and my squeals mixed with his outright laughter. He held my hands firmly over my head with one hand while tickling me with his other. Pinned under him, there was no escaping, even if I had wanted to. As my body went limp, exhausted from the tear-shedding laughter, Elvis chuckled victoriously and relaxed his hold.
When our humor subsided, all was quiet in the room, apart from our labored breathing.
“You’re silly,” he heaved.
Panting nose to nose, we each struggled to catch our breath. And though my watery eyes blurred his beautiful features, I could sense his lips were just a kiss away. Without thought, I turned my head and lifted my mouth to his. He drew in a breath of surprise, and then his eyes drifted close.
Elvis loved to kiss. He kissed with the eagerness of a teenager, and all the patience of a man. His lips were supple and soft like the South’s finest spun cotton. And I made good use of his tendency to linger, shifting my lips and attempting to enjoy every scrumptious curve of his full mouth.
As usual, he pulled away first.
“Better?” I purred, enjoying the look of melting self control in his eyes.
“Hmm, almost, perfect.” His smile was broad and dazzling, but I frowned anyway.
“You have to leave room for improvement, baby. It’s better that way.” He placed a quick peck to my nose and then slid off the bed.
Barefoot, shirtless and wearing only the pair of trousers he had on from the night before, he strolled across the room.
“We need to get on the road.” He ran his hand through his tousled hair. “Your Daddy is waiting.”
I opened my mouth to speak.
“No arguments now.” He pointed to my abandoned room as he walked passed, headed to the bathroom, and then slammed the door behind him in one smooth motion.
I knew it was silly to pout, but I couldn't help it. I kicked at the bed sheets, flinging them off of me. When that didn’t relieve all my frustration, I thrashed against the mattress until I tired.
Dream Angel : Heaven Waits Page 11