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Authors: Carey Corp

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The Guardian (22 page)

BOOK: The Guardian
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Somberly considering this woman, who would be led by music to open her home to a surly teenager and whose personal demons flicker in her guileless eyes, I can’t be angry. Suddenly all I feel is spent, exhausted on a cellular level. “Thank you.”

Finally, I comprehend her small, tight smile that comes from seeing and hearing—from knowing and feeling—too much and keeping it inside. Her transparency is not without a cost, which makes it all the more precious.

“You’re welcome, Alex. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Later? I think I’ve reached my limit for now.”

With a nod, Kate stands. “Whenever you’re ready… for you I’m an open book.”

As she turns to go, I find myself compelled to ask, “What if I’m never ready?”

Unconditional acceptance, the warmth of Kate’s understanding assails me. “‘Never’ is a long time, Alex.”

*

The next morning Steven calls me to the phone and I’m acutely aware of the sympathy in his eyes. Kate’s told him everything, of course. I don’t begrudge him her confidence but it doesn’t make it any easier to face him. Thankfully, he gives me some much needed privacy as I lift the receiver to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Alexia.” The anguished relief in Gabriel’s voice is unmistakable. Yet my heart hitches because part of me hoped it was—needed it to be—the one sane thing in my life, Derry. “You didn’t call me last night. Are you okay?”

My answer, heavy with disappointment, comes out in a flat monotone. “Nana Kransky told me… you know… about the Gift of the Saints.”

He sighs and, over the phone, I can’t tell if it’s out of concern or relief. “I’ll be right there.”

“Maybe that’s not the best idea—”

“I’ve been going crazy. I have to see you.”

“Steven’s here. And Kate and her mom—”

“Then meet me.”

Any other time, I would thrill to the urgency in his voice—but not today. Today I just want to curl up in a ball and pretend stuff like Divine gifts and Seraphs don’t exist. “Gabriel—”

“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. Either you come to me, or I’m coming to you.”

I can tell he means it. And this is not a conversation I want to have within earshot of the Fosters. “Fine,” I grumble, rolling my eyes as if he can see me. “I’ll come to you. Where do you want to meet?”

“Do you know the little park around the corner off of Euclid?” For the first time, there’s hopefulness in his voice and it pierces through my own misery to tug at my heart.

“Yes.”

“Meet me there in fifteen minutes.”

Still in my pajamas and slippers, I quickly calculate how soon I can be dressed. “Make it thirty.”

“Okay.”

“Fine.” I start to hang up the receiver when his rock-solid voice stops me.

“But if you’re a minute late, I’m coming to you.”

Even before I reach the park, I know exactly where Gabriel’s waiting. The spot where he stands is ablaze with white-hot fire. And I’m amazed that the snow around him is intact rather than melted or boiling. Reflexively I shield my eyes, squinting as I search for his face.

He comes to me so fast that he’s a blur—a shooting star hurtling across the frozen earth. Looking every bit an avenging angel, he glowers at me before pulling me into his iron embrace. Crushed against his chest, I’m hyper aware that his body’s trembling—whether from anger or fear, though, I can’t be sure. His scent of evergreen and hardwood is so appealing that I burrow my nose into his sweater, breathing deep and slow. Relaxing.

Still bristling with an excess of emotion, Gabriel bends his head to my ear and whispers, “Everything’s going to be okay.” He could just as easily be reassuring himself as me, but the promise causes me to stiffen. In my mind, there’s only one way to make things right.

Flatly, I tell him, “I don’t want it.”

He pulls back, gently, to look at me. The decrease in bodily contact causes me to shiver as he regards me with grave yet patient eyes. “I know it’s
a lot
to comprehend. Take some time to process.”

My head shakes as desperation fuels my denial. “I don’t want to ‘take some time’. I’m not a Saint—I’m not even sure I’m a good person. How do I get rid of it?” I beg, “Please?”

“But you are good,” he insists. “Goodness is a trait you possess, like intellect and compassion. You’ve got your gift because of who you are, and it’s been given for a reason—you’re meant to use it.”

“So tell me what the reason is?”

“Alex—”

“Right—you can’t.” Suddenly, his embrace is suffocating. I push at his chest until he’s forced to step back and release me. “Just like you couldn’t tell me about your being an angel or that I have the freakin’ Gift of the Saints!”

“Don’t—”

“No, you ‘don’t’—I’m done!” 

As I turn to leave, Gabriel closes the distance between us. Gripping my shoulders from behind, he pleads, “Wait!”

Keeping my back to him, I clamp my eyes shut, torn between my fury and the hold that he has on me. But in the end, I love him too much to walk away. Grudgingly, I let him turn me around so that I’m staring into his heavenly blue eyes. When he speaks, his words are as penetrating as his expression.

“If I’d told you about your gift, you wouldn’t have learned about Kate or her mom. And you wouldn’t have confided in them. I have to let things happen the way they’re meant to occur. Other than my purpose, I can’t interfere in your life. You’re supposed to confide in Kate and Steven and Mrs. Kransky—they’re important to your future. And I won’t let you rely on me for answers. My time with you is finite.”

“More secrets.” The anger dissipates leaving me as bereft as if he’s already gone.

Gabriel’s fingers are warm, nearly burning, as he strokes my frigid cheek. “Even though I can’t give you all the answers, I always have your best interests at heart. The
only
reason I’m here is you.” Leaning in, he touches his lips lightly to my forehead before murmuring against my skin, “You’re freezing. Let me walk you home.”

Wrapping his arm around my shoulders, Gabriel tucks me against his side, safe from the biting wind. As we walk, silent and close, I’m reminded of the first weeks of school, when he was just a boy and I was a girl with nothing to lose. Now I have the Fosters, Nana and Derry, Jonah, Becke, and a Seraph in the guise of devastating perfection.

And a gift that—like it or not—I am destined to wield.

As we approach the walk to the Fosters’ porch, the door opens and Nana Kransky, dressed for the cold down to her boots and heavy gloves, steps out to wait for us.

Glancing at Gabriel, Nana Kransky’s eyes are alight with expectation and something else, something subtle I’ve trouble putting my finger on. “Alex,” she admonishes, her lined face puckering into a gentle smile, “Don’t you think it’s time you introduce me to your young man?”

I open my mouth to protest Gabriel being my young man, and then snap it closed as I reluctantly admit to myself—boundaries notwithstanding—that’s exactly what he’s become. My cheeks start to heat despite the cold, and I can feel the blood rushing into them as I stammer, “Uh, this is Gabriel. Gabriel, this is Kate’s, uh, mom, Mrs. Kransky.”

Nana Kransky grasps his hand warmly. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Gabriel. I apologize for my rude behavior yesterday.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for—Alex comes first.”

 “That is something we agree on. You may call me Nana Kransky, or Judith, or Mrs. Kransky—whatever you wish. Alex seems to prefer ‘Ma’am’.” She gives me a playful wink that causes my cheeks to heat up.

Eyes twinkling with amusement, Gabriel slides a reassuring hand into the small of my back. “The pleasure’s mine, Ma’am. Alex has told me much about you.”

“And she has told me a little of you. You are from Los Angeles, yes?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Nana Kransky’s pupils expand slightly as she tips her head considering him. “There was someone I knew a long time ago. A man who came to my aid when I was unable to help myself. Of course, Mikhail had dark hair and eyes, but there was something in his demeanor, his presence… I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you remind me of him.”

There’s not a shade of panic in Gabriel’s clear gaze as he submits to Nana Kransky’s scrutiny. “I’m happy someone helped you when you needed it. And I’m glad I remind you of him, Ma’am.”

Satisfied, Nana Kransky nods. “I hope, children, especially now that the weather is colder, you will have the good sense to come inside instead of loitering out of doors. You are most welcome, Gabriel.” She turns to go, giving us our privacy. But over her shoulder she adds, “We expect to see much of you during the holidays, for Alex’s sake, of course.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

The spot on my back sings from Gabriel’s touch as Nana Kransky leaves. Still shaky from our encounter at the park and now flushed from embarrassment, I lead Gabriel into the kitchen and flop down on a stool at the counter feeling as weary as the previous afternoon.

Chuckling, Gabriel sits on the stool next to me. “Are you all right, Alexia?”

Shaking my head, I think I may never be “all right” again.

 

 

 

CHAPTER 12

 

Christmas morning. Kate and Steven’s living room is littered with scraps of brightly colored paper, a warzone of consumerism at its best and most extreme. The Fosters have gone completely overboard, buying me a new laptop with travel case, a new desk/media center for my room, an iPhone, iTunes gift cards, and certificates for at least a dozen other stores I’ve never been to. It’s too much, but objecting would hurt their feelings, so I do my best to swallow my shock and honestly thank them for their generosity.

At The Children’s Center each kid got one gift, always brand new, age and gender appropriate but donated and never uniquely chosen for the recipient. Some years I’d get lucky, like with the pink MP3 player or the year I got a backpack full of junk food, other years all I had to show for the holiday was a doll or a green and purple polka dot purse. But even a polka dot purse was better than some of the presents from Christmases spent with foster families.

Being with Steven, Kate, and Nana Kransky, this is the first year Christmas feels truly special and worthy of celebration. So although my presents are overwhelming to take in, they’ve been given in love, so I do my best to be gracious. And while the Fosters’ generosity moves me, it’s Nana Kransky’s gift that causes my eyes to sting with gratitude. She gives me a thin case containing a compact, digital camera. “So you can capture your memories and document your journey,” she says simply with a wise, all-knowing expression. “So you never forget the friends, family, and love waiting for you. Unconditionally.”

From anyone else the words would be trite, but coming from this Titan of a woman, knowing her history, her capacity to accept others, her simple truth touches me deeply. My life has changed so much in such a short amount of time, and I want to cherish every aspect—every day and each person—of my new life.

Turning it round and round, I think about how I’ve never wanted a camera. But now that it rests bright and shiny in my hands, I’m deeply thankful. Silent tears flow as I realize there are things I want to capture: Kate and Steven, the way Jonah gazes at Becke when he thinks no one’s watching, my beautiful Gabriel in all his multi-faceted glory, even the wise insightful face of Nana Kransky, and sweet Derry—his wide, guileless smile, his perceptive gray eyes infused with warm chestnut flecks, the rapt expression on his face when he’s thinking about Star Wars—I’m overcome with the need to document it all.

Holding the camera close to my heart, I don’t try to fight the tears as they roll down my cheeks. “Thanks Ma’am,” I manage to croak between sniffles. Then I ask Nana Kransky to be the subject of my first photo. 

Later, stockpiling my expensive and totally unexpected gifts, I can’t help but wonder about the experiences my friends are having. Did Becke get her My Little Pony set? And did Jonah get my tip about the dolphin earrings? And Derry. Is he having a similar morning at the Eccles or is his experience the opposite of mine? I hope with all my heart that despite their shortcomings, Derry’s foster parents are making the day special for him.

And what of Gabriel?

Of course he’s alone in the vacant house that serves as his base of operations. But how is he spending this morning? My curiosity produces an ache of yearning that fills my chest and makes me desperate to see him. Luckily I won’t have to wait for long. At Nana’s insistence, Gabriel will be joining us for dinner, since his “family” celebration on Christmas Eve leaves him conveniently free today.

Despite the cold, I anxiously await Gabriel’s arrival out front. Freshly cut pine garlands, anchored with giant bows in the same shade of red as the front door, and twinkle lights give the porch a festive atmosphere despite the gloomy, overcast day. Even with the lack of snow on the ground the temperature’s below freezing and my breath comes in short, white bursts like smoke that I try to form into shapes while I pass the time.

Since our confrontation at the park, Gabriel has been respectfully silent about important topics like gifts and fulfilling one’s destiny. Of course, he’s waiting for me to broach the subject. But it’s the holidays—my first holiday with a real family—and I’ve decided to make it a vacation from halos as well. My boyfriend comes over every day—and we talk about normal stuff—almost as if we’re a real couple.

BOOK: The Guardian
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