Quiet Angel (16 page)

He sprinted out to the beach, still damp from the night tide, the morning sun nearly blinding him. He rubbed his eyes to focus. He looked out to the ocean, but no one was there. He looked up and down the beach, storm clouds forming all around, and made out a figure in the distance surrounded by light.

The figure was walking towards him. It looked like a woman. The clothing looked like a sundress. He couldn’t make out a face, but it had to be her. He gnashed his teeth for a moment, pissed she’d left, slipped out of bed again. He jogged towards her and yelled out her name. “Layla!”

“Gage, what is it?” she called out. “What’s wrong?”

He reached her and grabbed her by the arms. “You can’t keep disappearing on me! You can’t ever do that again!” He saw her eyes grow wide and let go. “Don’t ever do that again, please.”

She ran her hands through his hair. “I left you a note on the pillow.”

“There was no note.”

“Yes, there was, and I poured you a glass of water. It was on the kitchen counter next to some leftovers from last night. I made a plate for you.”

Gage pinched the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing out here?”

“I just wanted to check out my grandmother’s old cottage. Is that OK with you?”

“No.”

She laughed. “
No
?”

“No.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m totally serious. I can’t believe you’d leave. Our first morning together!”

“I didn’t
leave
! I left you a note!”

“You left.”

“I was coming right back! You make it seem like I crawled out the window again!”

“I guess I should be grateful.”

She looked him up and down, her eyes narrow and hard. “F off!”

Gage nearly fell on his ass. He couldn’t remember her talking like that ever before. Granted, she hadn’t actually said the word, but it was close. A loud thunderbolt ripped through the sky. He looked out at the ocean, sheets of rain on the horizon.

“Last night was great, but you’re being a real jerk now. I’ve tried to be completely open and honest with you. I can’t change the past. I’m not looking for sympathy or pity. I can only tell you what happened. And it’s up to you to do what you want. But I’m
not
going to put up with this. It’s not going to work like this, not with you throwing a tantrum about when I get up in the morning.”

“It just scared the shit out of me to wake up and not see you! All sorts of awful things started running through my mind.”

“I’m not a scared teenager anymore. I’m not running away.”

“
I
was scared, OK?”

She took his hand. “It’s fine to be scared. But you need to handle it better than this. I mean, news flash! I might need to pee in the morning! I might not be there right when you wake up.”

“Hold it.”

“No,” she said, grinning.

He saw the rain getting closer. “Let’s go. I’ll call the limo to drive us back to Savannah.”

“We’re not flying back?”

“Not in this weather. I’ll take a commercial flight to Atlanta from there.”

“Before we leave,” she teased, “be sure to check for the note, the leftovers, the glass of water. It’s all there.”

“Oh, I will,” he said and pulled her into a hug. “While I’m doing that, you should arrange for someone to cover the store for you. Since we’re driving, I’m not sure I can have you back for opening.”

“It’s fine. I’m off today.”

“Then I think I’ll take off, too. Let’s go to your place.”

*

Gage shut off
the water and stepped out of her shower, bumping his head on the rod. It didn’t hurt at all. It was actually more uncomfortable taking the shower, crouching below her low ceiling, squeezing in the space no bigger than a tiny closet. He reached for a towel and wiped off his face. The towel smelled like Layla, like sweet lavender.

His clothes in the wash, he wrapped the towel around his waist and ran his fingers through his hair. He wiped some steam off the mirror and rubbed the stubble on his face. He needed to shave, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to the office today. It felt weird not to go. He couldn’t remember the last time he missed a day.

He came out of her bathroom and looked in the backyard. Layla was sitting barefoot on the grass surrounded by her brightly colored flowers. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted towards the hot Savannah sun. Her damp hair was tied back in a braid—just as it often was 12 years ago. He smiled at her peaceful face and walked outside.

She felt him coming towards her. “Want to join me?”

“What are you doing?”

She took in his muscles, his abs, and bit her bottom lip. “I’m at church.”

“I think the Pope would disagree,” he said and sat down across from her. “Church is on your knees, sitting in hard pews.”

“You’re wrong about that,” she said. “I still go to Mass on Sundays, but I feel closer to my angels, my God—or Goddess—outside in nature.”

“I remember you doing those beach yoga services, the ones my dad did. Seemed like a bunch of hippies.”

“When do you feel most at peace, most centered, most happy?”

“When I’m flying, I guess.”

“Then that’s your church,” she said. “Want to try with me?”

“What am I supposed to do? Chant?
Um, Um, Um
.”

She laughed. “Are you judging me? You know what Mother Theresa used to say about judging people?”

“I don’t recall. Am I in Sunday school?”

“She said if you judge people, you have no time to love them.”

“Now you’re making me feel bad. What do I do?”

Layla took his hands in hers. “Whatever you’re comfortable doing. You can say the rosary, just talk to God, talk to your Guardian Angel.”

“What do
you
do?”

“Different things. A minute ago, I was just saying a little prayer to send out light and love to the world.”

He bit his tongue not to laugh. “
Light and love
? For real?”

“Close your eyes.”

He did as she said and sat in silence for a minute. It seemed like an hour. Every few seconds, he’d peek at her, finding her eyes still closed, her pale skin growing a tad rosier. Then he’d close his eyes again. In between peeking, he said a little prayer for Layla, thankful she’d come back into his life, even if she apparently was some hybrid Catholic New Age freak. Maybe she always was. He didn’t care. She was the same girl he used to know, the same girl he always loved. He kissed her gently on the lips and lowered her to the ground, his towel doing nothing to hide how much he wanted her.

Layla pushed him back with a smile. “Stop being in such a hurry. The 12 years are gone. We can’t get them back.”

“We can try,” he said and put his hands on her hips, looking into her eyes. “I want you.”

“I can tell,” she said, looking at the bulging towel.
He’s used to getting what he wants.
“I’m not going anywhere. So there’s no need to rush.”

Gage groaned and rolled on his back, staring up at the heavens. A butterfly landed on his head. He went to swat it away, but she grabbed his hand. “Layla, it’s sitting right on my head.”

“Wish I had a camera.” The butterfly flew off and fluttered around them. “Butterflies are signs from angels. They mean change is coming—a transformation.”

Gage smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

*

Gage spent the
rest of the day trying to work from her sofa. But more often that not, he just watched Layla mill around her place, whether making a perfect mess in her kitchen, paying some bills, doing her laundry, calling some customers about book orders. For so long he’d wondered what she was up to, how she spent her time. Now he had a front row seat.

This is what he’d been missing.
This is what my life with her will look like.
It sure was better than a life filled with back-to-back conference calls and constant emails, especially from the political operatives who always knew how to find him. He didn’t want it to end. He pulled her to his lap on the sofa.

“I’ve had a good couple days with you,” he said, stroking her chocolate hair, “but I’ve got to fly back to Atlanta in the morning.”

“I figured,” she said quietly.

“I hate to leave.”

“I know. Me, too.”

“I’ll fly back here tomorrow evening.”

“You can bring some things to leave here, if you want.”

He smiled and searched her eyes. “Marry me? Marry me so I can hold you every day?”

“Not today.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Not tomorrow, either,” she said and pulled him into a kiss.

“One day you’ll tell me ‘yes.’”

Over the next
few weeks, Gage never missed a day in Savannah. Sometimes he’d sneak out of work and be at her shop by lunch. Sometimes he’d be waiting inside her house when she came home, then insist on taking her to the nicest restaurants or some show or festival going on around town. Other times he’d have to work late and show up at her house when Layla was already in bed. He’d slip under the sheets and wrap his arms around her until they fell asleep together.

Today he needed extra time to get to Savannah and set up a surprise at her house, so he snuck out of the office early. He worried a little he wasn’t spending enough time in the office—even though no one ever complained or probably even noticed. Mary didn’t care. She was happy he was happy. He told himself not to worry. He could miss a few days here and there. Plus, he was more than capable of running the company from his phone or laptop. He finished setting up just before Layla’s key hit the door.

He heard her giggling when she walked in. “What did you do?” she cried.

“I went shopping,” he said and greeted her with a kiss.

Layla picked up a teddy bear. “For stuffed animals?”

“I thought you could use some new ones.”

She looked around her den—every piece of furniture, every nook and cranny, covered with stuffed bears, cats, dogs, ducks, elephants, lions, and every other animal on Noah’s Ark. “You are totally insane! I love it!” She greeted each animal with a little hug then looked at him standing in the middle of the room, thinking her heart might burst that he remembered, that he thought to give her back—tenfold—something taken from her. “I don’t deserve you. This is too much.”

Gage wrapped his arms around her. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it! I love you!” Her eye caught something above the fireplace, behind a row of stuffed animals on the mantle. It was a huge flatscreen TV. “You tried to cover it up, didn’t you?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

She rolled her eyes. “You can keep it there. I presume it’s for you anyway.”

“Well, you’re not having sex with me, so I need something to do,” he said. “I have one more gift for you. And I’m a little worried about this one.”

Layla watched him disappear into the guest bedroom. She couldn’t imagine what else he had. She didn’t need anything else. He came out holding a small dog, a brown and white Cavalier King Charles Spaniel with big brown eyes, decked out in a pink rhinestone collar. Layla threw her hands over her mouth and almost melted to the floor. “Oh my God! She’s adorable!”

“Her name is Pippa,” Gage said, gently handing her to Layla. “She’s four.”

“Where’d you get her?”

“A rescue place in Atlanta,” Gage said. “She’s totally healthy, house-trained. She was found on the side of the road. She had an infection, and they had to fix her. They think she was probably used for breeding in a puppy mill. And when she got sick, they just threw her out.”

“I love her,” Layla said and snuggled into Pippa, wagging her tail.

“I thought she could go to the store with you. And she was good on the plane coming here, so you can bring her with you if I ever get you to Atlanta.”

“I’ll get there soon. The store has just been crazy.” Pippa licked Layla’s face. “She’s just the cutest dog I’ve ever seen!”

Gage pointed to the back door. “I installed a doggie door before you got home.”

“Good thing I like her.”

“My back-up plan was to drop her in Emerson’s backyard. The kids would go nuts.”

Layla carried her new friend to the sofa, and Gage sat down beside them. He patted Pippa then let his fingers slide onto her long legs, then under her shirt onto the small of her back. “Just snuggle with me,” she said.