Falling for Heaven (Four Winds) (14 page)

             
“You have a choice to make, Uriel.  I sense a weariness in you boys that is almost palpable at times.  If you are tired, you make mistakes."  This confused Uri.  He had felt a weariness from dealing with the same types of humans over the years, arrogant, proud, greedy.  The flaws in his targets had frustrated him recently, but he hadn't realized that it had affected his performance.  "You can choose to continue to be one of my archangels, delivering my humans the choice of their destinies, or you can choose to become one of them, and fulfill your own destiny.”

             
“My own destiny?”  Uri thought that that's what he'd been doing for centuries.

             
“Your very own destiny, Uriel.  You have the choice.  In order to fall to humanity, you must fall in love with Heather.”  Uri watched as the Boss leaned back on His hands, waiting patiently for Uri’s decision, a satisfied smile on His face.  Uri knew that He already knew which choice he would make, he just wish He'd let him in on it.

             
“Love?”  Uri stifled his indignation.  He had watched humans do some pretty stupid things for love, and it sickened him.

             
“I know you consider love a human weakness, but it’s actually the most beautiful emotion in existence.  What do you think separates human from beast?”

             
“Free will.”

             
“No.  It’s love.  The capacity for love is what separates humans from beasts.”

             
“What do you want me to do, Father?”

             
“This is your decision to make Uriel.  I just want you to be happy.”  He reached across and softly tapped Uri’s chest.  “These feelings that are confusing you so much, are feelings related to love.  Jealousy, anger, confusion, they are all the dark sides of the light.  Without darkness, there cannot be light.  With love comes something more, that I can’t describe to you.  But it will dispel the darkness.”

             
Uri felt like he’d been slapped.  He was speechless.

             
“Goodbye, Uriel.  Know that I love you with the love that surpasses all understanding.  Please go in peace and know that I am with you, always.”  The Boss disappeared into an ethereal mist that hovered over the ground briefly, before dissipating.

             
Uri felt as if he’d been abandoned.  An unquenchable thirst took over, and he knew without understanding why that he needed to see Heather.

Chapter 17

              When Heather turned from locking her apartment door, Uri was standing in her yard, looking at her desperately.

             
“What?” She hadn’t seen this look in his eyes, and it made her a little nervous.  Uri usually seemed so put together, and right now he looked a little undone.  She wondered if he’d received bad news from someone.  Realizing who he was most likely to have spoken with, she panicked a little.  “Has something happened?”

             
He looked a little wistful, as he shook his head slowly.  “No.  I just wanted to spend a little more time with you.  Where are you going?”

             
“To visit my mother.  You are welcome to come along, if you want.”

             
Looking relieved, he nodded.  “I would like that, I think.”  He walked with her to the bus stop, reaching for her hand and clasping it tightly.  The contact, as always a warm current, made Heather feel comfortable in a situation that typically made her apprehensive.  She was never sure what was going to happen when she saw her mother.  Surprising herself, she realized that having Uri accompany her made the trip seem less like a chore.

             
They climbed up the bus steps together and chose a seat.  Uncomfortably close for strangers, Heather treasured the thrill of Uri's thigh pressed up against hers.  She could smell his spicy scent and wondered again what it was. 

             
Before she could ask him, he questioned, “How far along is your mother in the Alzheimer’s process?”

             
She shrugged.  “She’s pretty much in the intermediate stages.  In her lucid moments, she’s angry with me for putting her in the home.  Sometimes, she doesn’t recognize me.  That’s only happened a handful of times, though.  Usually, she’s just angry at me.”

             
“I’m sorry.  That must be hard for you.”

             
“It is, but I know it’s not my mom.  It’s the disease.  That makes it better, in my head anyway.  It still hurts, though.”

             
Uri put his arm around her, transferring a sense of strength, and they rode the rest of the way in comfortable silence.

             
At the home, Heather tapped in her security code to the Alzheimer’s wing of the facility and watched as Uri’s faces scrunched up at the smell.

             
“It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”  She asked, the smell getting to her on good days, not having a clue how much of it he smelled.  She suspected his senses were super-powered.  She chalked it up to something else she didn't really know about him, wondering if she ever would.  How much longer could he stay, once he realized there wasn't any special destiny for her?

             
“Yes, I’ve never much enjoyed the smell of sickness.”

             
“I can’t imagine how you could.”

             
On the way to her mother’s room, a nurse stopped Heather, bubbling false cheerfulness.  “Oh, we’re so glad you came in today.  Your mother isn’t doing too spiffy.  Maybe a familiar face will help.”

             
Heather blanched.  “Will she know me?”

             
The nurse smiled at her.  “We can hope so, can’t we?”

             
Uri squeezed her elbow reassuringly and led her on to her mother’s room.

             
Sharon was sitting in her chair, worrying the small blanket in her lap, staring at a blank TV screen, muttering letters under her breath.

             
“Buy a vowel, A.  A.  A.  A.”

             
“Mom?”  Heather asked hesitantly.  “I’ve brought a friend of mine to visit, if you’re up to it.”

             
Her mother’s attention snapped to Heather, and a confused look darted over her features before she turned her gaze to Uri.

             
“This is Uri, Mama.  Uri, this is my mother, Sharon Calloway.”  Heather made the introductions, her voice filled with hope that a new face would be good for her mother.

             
“Mrs. Calloway, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  He clasped her hand in his and bowed low, grazing his lips over her knuckles.  Heather was stunned by the old-fashioned greeting, but Sharon’s eyes twinkled with delight.

             
“My, what a charming guest.  What was your name, dear?”  She asked.

             
“Uriel.”

             
“And who is this lovely creature that you brought along with you today, Uriel?”  She looked at Heather, again with the confused expression.  Okay, so she was a new face, too.  Heather decided to just go with the flow.

             
“This is Heather, Mrs. Calloway.”  He winked at Heather, and the gesture melted her heart.

             
“Come.  Come sit next to me, both of you.”  She waved her hand over the sofa next to her. Heather and Uri complied, she uneasily, he with an air of anticipation that Heather marveled at, until her mother spoke next.

             
“I used to paint, Uri.  Did you know that?”  Heather was shocked at the revelation.  She didn’t know her mother used to paint and wondered if it was true, or a figment of her imagination.

             
“I didn’t know that.”  Heather said simply, dumbstruck.

             
“Well, how could you?”  Her mother answered with a tinkling laugh.  She had never seen her mother like this and wondered if she was actually flirting with Uri. Her jaw dropped in astonishment when Sharon grasped Uri’s arm and began stroking his bicep.

             
“My, you are strong.  Would you do me a favor, with your big, strong muscles?”  Heather watched as her mother regressed in front of her.  Suddenly, she was a teenager, fighting for the attention of the pretty boy at the party.

             
“Anything you would like, Mrs. Calloway.”  Uri answered politely, eager to please.

             
“Oh, piffle on the Mrs. Calloway.  Please, call me Sharon.  Alright?”

             
“Alright, Sharon.”  Uri acquiesced.

             
“I want to re-arrange my seating area to better accommodate my guests.  But I can’t manage by myself.  Would you mind terribly helping me?”

             
Uri looked questioningly at Heather, who nodded.  Then, for the next thirty minutes, Uri cheerfully moved furniture around in Sharon’s room, until she was satisfied that all of her “guests” would be properly seated.  The end result was better, but Heather wondered if Sharon would still like it tomorrow.

             
Once Uri rearranged her furniture, Sharon needed the pictures hanging on the wall moved, to look balanced with the new seating arrangement.  Since Uri was “so tall,” he was the only one who could manage for her.  Uri happily re-hung her calendar, and her paintings, and the family photos, which Sharon referred to as “those nice looking people” on different walls according to where the furniture had been placed. 

             
The entire time, Sharon stayed in her chair, which apparently did not encompass the seating area, as it stayed at the foot of her bed, two feet away from the television set.

             
When he was finished, Uri sat on the sofa next to Heather and asked the question which had been bothering Heather since her mother first brought it up.

             
“So, you used to paint, Sharon?”  The question was genuine, not just an attempt at solicitousness, and Heather wondered why it mattered to Uri.  Why was he trying so hard to know her mother?  For that matter, she thought, why was he trying so hard period?  She honestly didn’t understand his purpose here.

             
“Yes, I did.  How could you tell?”  Sharon sat a little straighter and visibly preened herself, her hand smoothing her hair, then running down her neck.

             
Uri shrugged, good-naturedly.  “I could just tell.  You carry yourself like an artist.”

             
“Well, yes.  Before I got married.  Have you met Buddy?  He’s my husband.  He should be home soon.  We just moved here.  He wants me to stop painting and have children, but I’m still not sure.  I don’t see why I can’t do both.  Do you?”

             
“No ma’am, I don’t.”

             
A fog of confusion seemed to cloud Sharon’s eyes, and she looked at Uri, then at Heather.

             
“Who are you, again?”

             
“I’m Uri, and this is Heather,” Uri said, patiently.

             
“Are you trying to sell me something?  Because my husband doesn’t usually leave me with the checkbook, unless it’s grocery day.  And today is Wednesday, and I do my grocery shopping on Monday.”

             
It was actually Thursday, but Heather wasn’t going to correct her mother.

             
Instead, she said, as brightly as she could, “We’re not here to sell you anything.  Just a visit.”

             
Sharon darted her eyes, warily.  “I think you’d better leave.  My husband won’t like you visiting while he’s not here.”  She leaned over and patted Uri’s knee.  “Why don’t you come back this evening and have supper with us.  He would be glad to meet you.  Tonight’s roast chicken night.”  Heather felt a pang of regret at the memories of her mother's cooking.  Wednesday nights had been roast chicken night, until her dad had died.

             
“That would be lovely, but I’m afraid we have other plans for tonight.  So, we’ll be leaving now.  It was a pleasure meeting you Mrs. Calloway.”  Uri extended his hand in a formal farewell, and Heather followed suit. 

             
Midway through her handshake goodbye, a flicker of recognition flowed through Sharon’s face.  Heather took the opportunity to pull her mother into a hug.  “Goodbye, Mama,” she whispered into her mother’s ear.  When she released her mother, the confusion was back.

             
They left, and had boarded the bus riding back in silence when Uri finally spoke. 

             
“I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but it’s crucial to you that you remember her before.  Don’t let the memories of her illness take over the memories of her before she got sick, Heather.  Okay?”