| |
I'VE MET ABRAHAM LINCOLN, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King Jr. I taught Robert the Bruce how to be an Archangel. I used to hang with Jimi Hendrix when he was a part of Haniel's band. None of these legends made me half as nervous as Luciana Alvarez's mother.
Now that her training is over, Lucy doled out a mission to me. I'm supposed to convince Mrs. Alvarez that Lucy has what it takes to be a good Helper. While I'm at it, I'm going to ask for permission to court her daughter. That might sound old-fashioned to someone like Lucy, but the last time I dated a young lady, getting permission from a parent was required, and the girl was often accompanied by a chaperone. Perhaps I'm stuck in the past? I need to upgrade my dating habits.
Conchetta Alvarez is an intimidating lady. As soon as she sees me, her eyebrows snap together to form a disapproving glare.
“Well... he's handsome, I'll give him that,” Conchetta says. “Isn't it unusual for an Archangel to visit his student at her home?”
“It is unusual. But Lucy is a very special student,” I reply.
My eyes lock on Luciana, who's standing behind her mother. She winces when Conchetta asks, “How is she special?”
“Mom!” Lucy whines. “Don't put him on the spot like that!”
“No. It's alright.” A pale brown dog decides to crash on my lap, so I give him a few light pats on the head.
“That's Poncho,” Lucy identifies the scraggly terrier, giving me a reprieve from her mother's question. “He likes strangers more than he likes us, I swear.”
As I massage Poncho's head, I say, “You know how Archangels can hear a person's thoughts? Well... we can hear animal thoughts too.”
“Oh really?” Lucy crosses her arms and challenges me, “In that case, what is Poncho thinking right now?”
“He's thinking...” I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I prepare to reveal the canine's innermost thoughts. “He's thinking ruff ruff... ruff ruff ruff... rowl.”
Lucy gasps at my answer .“Oh my god... did Archangel Azrael actually crack a joke? That's a first.”
“Oh, I wasn't joking. I'm absolutely serious,” I insist, grinning impishly. “Unfortunately, I have no idea what it means. I don't speak dog.”
Lucy's right. I don't crack jokes too often. I like to think I have a fairly decent sense of humor, but my delivery is poor. It's usually too dry or too monotone.
“Excuse me!” Conchetta speaks up. “You said my daughter is special. I'm still waiting to find out why you think she's special. I think she's special too, but I want to hear what you have to say. And why should she be a Helper?”
This time, my answer rolls from my tongue. “Lucy is bright, sweet and determined, and she's wise beyond her years. She empathizes with her charges in so many ways. She's a personable young woman, very easy to talk to... and she even got me to open up to her. Even though she's been through some tough times, she radiates with so much light, she spreads it to others around her.” Lucy's cheeks are overrun by shades of pink as I praise her. She's blushing, and it's adorable. “Also... she has the prettiest smile in the world, the cutest laugh I've ever heard, and I wish I could work with her for one more day.”
“I wish I could work with you for one more day!” Lucy echoes the sentiment. “Why couldn't we work together on a mission someday?”
Lucy's mom jumps in before I can answer. “Why do Helpers have to work alone? It sounds like a stressful job as it is. Why must they be lonely too?”
“It's just the way it's always been, ma'am. It's—”
She interrupts again. “That isn't an answer. It's a cop out.”
“Mom...” Lucy groans into the palm of her hand. “Can you give him a break? Please?”
“Not if he doesn't answer my question!” Conchetta says.
I try to flesh out my answer for Conchetta. “In the mortal realm, people are always dying. Always. Helpers are in high demand. There aren't as many of us as there could be.”
“So? Here's a solution for you! Hire more of them. If you add more Helpers, maybe they could team up?”
Lucy's mother is an outspoken lady with unwavering opinions. I think it's refreshing. Not many people are brave enough to argue with an Archangel.
“I'll consider that,” I tell her.
“Good. Now I'm going to manifest some of my homemade chocolate chip cookies,” Conchetta says. “I challenge you to find a better cookie in the entire world.”
A mountainous pile of cookies suddenly appears on the table in front of us.
“Eat,” Conchetta demands. “They're hot and gooey too, just the way Lucy likes them.”
I sample one of the cookies, and as I chew, I give her a thumbs-up.
“They're delicious, aren't they? Of course they are!” Conchetta exclaims. “Now... what were you saying about Lucy's pretty laugh and cute smile? If I didn't know any better, I would think you had a crush on her.”
“Moooom!” Lucy really stretches out the word as she whines yet again. “Oh my god, you are so embarrassing today!”
“You could say, I suppose, that I have a crush on her.” Personally, I think the word crush is too small to describe my feelings, but I keep that thought to myself. “I admire her very much.”
“Admire her... or like her?” Conchetta asks.
In the corner of my eye, I can see Lucy's face diving into the palm of her hand.
“I like her,” I admit. “In fact, I was hoping I could ask for your permission to date her.”
“Permission? Why would you need my permission?” Conchetta swats my arm so hard, I almost drop my cookie. “If an Archangel wanted to date my daughter, I would be jumping for joy! I do have one more question, though. Didn't you fire her once? Why?”
“Because I liked her too much.” My gaze drifts back to Luciana, whose face is an even more violent shade of pink than it was before. “I was afraid of liking her too much. To be honest, I... hadn't liked anyone for a very long time.”
Conchetta asks, “Isn't that what Archangel Jophiel used to say when he wanted a woman to like him?”
Poor Jophiel. After his trial, everyone seems aware of his scandalous past. I wonder if he'll ever be free of that reputation? “Jophiel's technique was... somewhat similar. But in my case, it isn't a lie. I've chosen to be single for a very long time.”
“And Lucy is the girl who's going to end that for you? That's nice. That's—”
Lucy doesn't let her mom finish the thought. She gives her an impassioned lecture in Spanish and pleads for a change of subject.
“How about we watch a movie, then?” Conchetta suggests. “Lucy said you were a fan of movies.”
“I actually didn't say that,” Lucy corrects her. “Mama... this just proves you never listen when I talk, because I actually said the opposite. Azrael doesn't like movies and he thinks they're a waste of time.”
“Actually, I would be happy to watch a movie, Mrs. Alvarez,” I speak up. “What movie did you have in mind?”
“My favorite.”
Lucy groans at her mom's answer. “No, Mom. Please don't make Archangel Azrael watch Dirty Dancing. Please.”
“Why not? We could watch the sequel, if you prefer. I don't care what the critics say... I really liked Havana Nights.”
I want to impress Conchetta, so I assure her that any movie is fine with me. About five minutes into Dirty Dancing, Lucy whispers to me, “I've seen this movie, like... twenty times. Mom made me watch it. A lot.”
“She must be quite a fan.”
“She is. She can quote the whole thing. It's ridiculous.”
I silently study the plot, even though it's nothing I would choose to watch on my own. If Lucy and I are going to date, I should expect to watch plenty of movies in my future. She seems to be quite a fan of them.
When the last dance has been danced and the credits roll, Conchetta hugs me twice and makes me promise to visit again. She seems to have accepted the fact that her daughter is going to be a Helper. She may not like it, but she's given up the fight.
Lucy walks me to the door, and for a moment, both of us are quiet. Neither of us knows how to proceed. Lucy has little experience with men, and I've forgotten how to woo a girl. Furthermore, I have very little knowledge of modern dating rituals.
I lean down to kiss her cheek. I wanted to aim for the lips, but I lost my nerve.
“So... I'll hear from you soon?” Lucy asks.
“Yes. I'll be in contact with you about your first solo mission.” My reply sounds disgustingly formal. I hate it.
“Good. I'm a little nervous about it.”
“Don't be. You'll be fine.” I want to touch her cheek or tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. I want to do something besides stand in awkward silence, but I can't. “So, uh... I guess I should dismiss myself?”
“I guess.”
She sounds disappointed in me, and I don't blame her. I'm disappointed in me too. I'm the one who should make the next move, but I'm a useless lump. At the very least, I should remind her about our second date, but I don't. I mutter a polite farewell and excuse myself.
Maybe, deep down, I'm still afraid to let this happen? If Lucy was mine, I wouldn't want anything or anyone else.
How is that not a terrifying thought?