Enticing An Angel (12 page)

Once again, Michael felt like he should be
embarrassed, but as he looked at Melanie, with her head hung down
in shame, his hand went to his mouth and he covered a wide grin. He
looked over to his mother who only glared at him. Michael chuckled
and stared back at her. He didn’t care what she thought. She had
started this conversation, and if she didn't like where it ended,
then tough.

Matters only became worse for Mrs. Angel when
Katherine, who was confused by the actions of the grownups, asked a
curious question. She was seated in between Melanie and her father,
and her nose scrunched with confusion.

"What's anlulla nus?" she asked.

Nathan smiled and bent down to her. "That's
an old friend of the Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street," he
said.

"Oh," she said knowingly, and everyone at the
table laughed; all except for Mrs. Angel who rolled her eyes at her
entire family.

"I'll admit that she's nice," Joshua said as
he watched Melanie being chased across the front yard by his niece
and nephew.

"Thanks, Josh," Michael replied.

Michael and Melanie were making ready to
leave, but the kids insisted on one quick game of tag before
leaving. Joshua had taken the opportunity to give his tacit
approval of the relationship, and Michael knew how difficult that
was for the man.

"Anyway," Joshua said. "Thanks for the
present and thanks for the support with school."

"Hey, you’re my kid brother, it's what I do,"
Michael replied.

Joshua shook his head, gave Michael a hug and
headed for the front door.

"Josh," Michael said and his brother turned
around. "Are you ever going to forgive us?" Michael asked.

"For what?" Joshua asked curiously.

"Being right," Michael replied coldly.

Anger flashed across Joshua's face and his
jaw set. He didn't reply to the comment, he just turned around and
headed for the front door.

"Nice going, Moron," Brian said.

Michael turned at the words and located his
brother leaning against the open garage frame with a beer in his
hand.

"Couldn't leave fucking well enough alone
could you?" Brian asked, and then took a sip of beer.

"I just want to help him," Michael said as he
approached his brother.

"You know, for someone that went to college,
you can sure be a dumbass at times," Brian stated.

Michael shot an angry look to Brian and
closed the gap between them. Brian stood to attention and prepared
for the approach.

"What?" Brian asked, "You wanna go a few
rounds, Pansy?"

"You think I can't take you?" Michael
asked.

"Well, it sure would be fun finding out now
wouldn't it?"

The men were very close and Michael closed
even farther; they were now within easy punching distance.

"Give it your best shot," Brian dared
Michael.

"You're an ass," Michael replied coldly.

Brian moved his grip on his bottle and
Michael's eyes closed as he saw the maneuver. They were very close
now and both watched the other carefully for the next move. That
move turned out to be a small hand to each of their chests.

Slightly surprised, they looked down to see
Melanie staring up at them. She was smiling and quiet; she didn't
say a word; she just looked up at each of them, and the men calmed.
For several seconds she smiled warmly, and the silence was only
broken when a little angel intruded.

"You're it," Katherine said as she ran into
Melanie and grabbed onto her leg.

Melanie gasped and smiled down at the little
girl.

"Oh, you little rug rat, but you didn't say
no tag backs; that means I can come get you."

Katherine screamed loudly with excitement,
and the men had to shake their heads in an attempt to alleviate the
pain from the screech. Melanie appeared unfazed and began to chase
Katherine who had detached herself and began to run into the front
yard.

The men watched her leave. Michael turned
away from Brian and ignored the man. He assumed the threat was
gone, and his attention was now focused on the amusing scene before
him. Brian came beside him and watched the scene as well.

"Michael, you have got to marry that woman,"
he said plainly.

Michael turned to Brian and gave him a
skeptical eye. Brian turned as well and shook his head
slightly.

"Look, Michael, I'm your brother and I hate
you. I also love you. Either way, I'll look out for you, and I mean
it. You gotta keep this one."

Michael turned back to Melanie and the kids.
They now had her on the ground and were trying to get pony rides
from her.

"I don't think mom really likes her," Michael
said.

"Fuck mom," Brian replied quickly. "Pop out a
few kids and she'll come around."

He then took another swig of beer, patted his
brother on the shoulder, and headed back into the house.

Michael smiled as he continued to watch the
play. Nathan was quickly on the scene and his kids recruited him
for pony rides. Melanie took the opportunity to escape and headed
to Michael. She smiled broadly while she walked, almost as if she
had just won first place in some important contest.

Michael took her in his arms, kissed her head
and hugged her tightly.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Oh, if we must," she replied jokingly.

The drive to Michael's house was pleasant and
Melanie looked forward to the evening. She’d never been to his
house, and his promise of a night in his residence was pleasing.
She’d even packed a light bag for the night; she didn't think she
would need much else.

"Your family is nice enough," she said as she
watched the trees pass bye. Over to the east she could just see the
mountains. It was getting late, but there was enough light to view
the mounds rising into the sky.

"Oh, they're all right. They seemed to like
you," Michael replied.

"I don't think your mother likes me," she
said as she turned to him.

"I wouldn't say that," he said, and smiled at
her. The look she threw back at him told him to stop lying. Michael
shook his head and turned his attention to the road.

"Well, my brothers like you," he said instead
of finishing his lie.

"I like them too. So, what's David like?" she
asked curiously.

"Oh, about the same as us. He's an EMT, so he
had to work today. He has an odd schedule," Michael told her and
turned to her when he realized she was laughing hysterically.

"About the same as you?" she asked in between
chuckles, "As if the four I met today are all the same. Seriously,
Michael, other than your name, what do you have in common?"

Michael thought about it and shrugged his
shoulders.

"So, what's Brian's story?" she asked. "Why
do you guys hate each other?"

"We don't hate each other," Michael replied
easily. "It's just that we're the oldest. I was the first-born and
the one that our parents doted over. Brian came second and then
David soon after so he got the middle child syndrome. Later, at
school, he had some of the same teachers who played that silly
comparison game. I got straight A's and he got C's."

"Ah," Melanie said. She understood what he
was talking about. The schoolteachers probably asked more than once
why Brian couldn't be like his brother Michael.

"And then there was my dad," Michael
said.

"What about him?" she asked.

"Well, I was always slated for college, and
with Brian's grades and ability to work with his hands, my dad had
him slated for taking over the plumbing business. When Brian didn't
want it, there was a lot of tension. My dad put a lot of pressure
on him. I think Brian resented me because I had a
get out of
jail free
card. My parents expected me to go to college."

"Ooh, that must have angered Brian," she
said.

"Yep, but I guess the biggest reason is that
we're brothers and we're close in age. It was just a lot of rivalry
growing up and it continues into adulthood."

"Well, I liked him," Melanie said.

"Good, he liked you too."

Melanie smiled at the comment and looked out
the window. She thought about each brother in turn and her mind
came to Nathan. He was a wonderful father, and Melanie said as much
to Michael when she turned back to him.

"You didn't say that to him did you?" Michael
asked with concern.

"No, why?"

"Oh, it's probably nothing," Michael replied.
"It's just that when Victoria died giving birth to Joseph, Nathan
took it as a personal mantra to be the best father he could.
Fortunately, Victoria had a life insurance policy. Thank God. It
wasn't a lot, but it was enough for him to buy a small two bedroom
house, and then be able to get by on a part time job."

"Well that sounds very responsible," Melanie
said as she envisioned Nathan tucking the kids in at night and
making breakfast in the morning.

"Yeah, he lives very frugally, but he loves
those kids. But, he doesn't date, he rarely goes out, and when he
does, he's home early. He is not the kind of man to frequent a bar
five nights a week.

"Sounds like his life is the children,"
Melanie commented.

"It is, and we all pull together to help him
out. We've all babysat those little angels so he could go to a
movie with a friend, or if he ended up working an odd shift."

"But he doesn't date?" Melanie asked.

Michael took his eyes off the road and looked
to Melanie. His stare was serious, and he shook his head slowly.
She understood the meaning.

"Did he love her that much?" she asked.

"Maybe," Michael replied as he returned his
gaze to the road, "but he certainly romanticizes their relationship
that much. I think he feels it would be an insult to her
memory."

"Hmm," Melanie said.

She thought about the family as a whole and
had to admit that they were certainly fun to be around; and those
kids were cute as buttons.

They soon reached the house, and Melanie
admired it from the outside. It was nothing ornate—a newer, simple,
single story rambler in a quiet neighborhood with shrubs along the
outside just below the windows. It was blue with white trim and the
cement walk to the front door was tastefully decorated with potted
plants.

"Nice," she said as she nodded her head.

"Well, it's no loft in downtown Seattle, but
the bathroom is large enough."

Melanie gave him a mocking look and followed
him inside. The entryway opened into a pleasing living room and
while Michael made himself at home, Melanie stared at the artwork
on the wall. Artwork was a stretch, what she really saw were
drawings of buildings in various states of completion.

"Michael, did you do these?" she asked as she
stared in amazement.

"Most of them," he said as he headed to the
kitchen. He had leftover food from his mother's to put away. She
continued to talk to him even though he was out of sight.

"These are fantastic," she said.

"Not really. It's just work. Besides, it's
not art like your work."

"Still, I can see the skill and patience that
it must have taken to draw these." She shook her head as she
scrutinized the drawings.

She made her way over to a large framed
picture; it was easily the size of one of her canvases. The
building it displayed was a four-story unit with tinted glass, red
brickwork for the upper floors and a marble face for the main
level. Along the front were flower beds with multicolored
specimens, and the artist had even taken the liberty to draw in
hummingbirds. Melanie put her fingers to the glass and tried to
feel the bird's wings. She knew she couldn't, but the blending
effect made the wings so lifelike. Almost as if she were actually
watching them beat fast enough to appear as a blur. Her eyes went
to the bottom corner of the frame and she smiled when she found the
name.
Michael Angel
was written on the paper with a pencil.
It was dated two years prior.

"Do you like it?" he asked

Melanie turned around and stared at her
lover. She smiled widely, and her eyes danced as she nodded her
head. She turned back to the image and admired the details.

"But why did you add hummingbirds?" she
asked.

"Oh, the clients like to see what their
building can look like when it's done. The birds seemed natural.
Don't you like them?"

"I love them," she answered without taking
her eyes off the drawing.

"You know," she said absently, "you and I
have a lot in common."

"We do?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep," she said, "oh, the details are
different, but we both like art, we both like music, and I think I
like your brothers."

Michael laughed. "Well, that’s a start," he
said. "I think we also share another common interest."

"Oh, what's that?"

Michael put his arms around her, bent his
head to her neck and kissed her gently. He moved upward to her ear
and bit the lobe. Melanie leaned back into him and enjoyed it. When
Michael was done nibbling on her ear, he whispered to her.

Melanie's eyes opened wide as she listened.
There was no need to determine if he was serious. He was already
carefully freeing her from her pants, and his mouth was moving back
to her neck.

"Okay," she whispered as her breathing picked
up. "But next time, I get to give you a treat."

Michael smiled and gently bit into her
shoulder. He would allow her to think that if she wanted. And who
knew, maybe he would let her treat him. However, for the
foreseeable future, he only wanted to pleasure her.

A furrowed brow and look of deep
contemplation spread across Michael's face. Melanie smiled as she
watched him. She was in her loft, sitting on a bar stool, with her
feet off the floor and set upon the rungs; they had to be,
otherwise they might not reach the floor. Michael, seated on her
couch with a sketchpad, began crushing his lips with his left hand
while absently erasing something with his right. He was at a loss
for what to do, and Melanie was amused. She also understood—often
times she was in a similar situation.