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Chapter 11

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I woke in the morning snuggled up on the couch with Jerome and Aurora.  We’d pulled out the sofa bed in my parents’ living room when we got to their house.  Dad had driven and we’d managed to each get a handful of French fries down for dinner.  Then we’d turned on a movie and snuggled together on the pullout bed and cried ourselves to sleep.  Even with sleep, my eyes felt raw. I was pretty sure they were bloodshot.  Jerome was still sleeping.  My mom was standing on the front porch yelling at someone. 

I walked outside and joined her.  She handed me her cup of coffee, which was far too dark for me to drink, but I probably needed the caffeine, so I took a couple big swigs.  It was still mostly hot, which surprised me.  It took about a minute of listening to my mom yell to realize she was on the phone with Jerome’s school.  Dad came out a moment later with a cup of white coffee.  He handed it to me and took Mom’s swill from me.  I reached out my hand and Mom waved me away. 

“No, I don’t think you understand.  I know I’m not currently authorized to get Jerome dismissed from classes for the day, but last night his mom died.  He and my daughter, Soleil Burn, are both mourning the passing of Valerie Dussain this morning.  She should not have to call in and explain it to you idiots when I’m doing it!”  My mom screamed and then threw her phone out onto the lawn.  Dad dialed his phone and handed it to me, then he went and got Mom’s phone.  It was answered on the second ring.

“This is Soleil Burn,” I said, speaking over the woman that answered the phone.  “I’m calling to get Jerome Dussain excused from classes for the next several days.  His mother  died in a house fire last night.  I will be down to the school this afternoon to discuss what we should do about all his schoolwork and homework that was destroyed in the fire.” 

“Oh my god, Miss Burn, that’s horrible!”  The woman exhaled the words all at once.

“Yes, it is.  I’ll also need to update his contact information forms.  The school is aware that his mother has a restraining order against her sister, correct?  I want to make sure that stays enforced.  The school is aware of that situation.  I will be meeting with my lawyer to see if we can speed up the adoption process now that Mrs. Dussain has passed away, but it will be a few days before I get to that.”

“Oh of course, Miss Burn, we know that she is not allowed on school grounds,” the woman answered.  “Did you know someone pretending to be you called to get him excused?”

“That was my mom, her name is Sophia. I don’t think she was pretending to be me.  I think she was just misunderstood because she’s in an emotional state right now.  We will be staying at my parents’ until further notice, since it was our house that caught fire.” 

“Yes, Miss Burn,” she said automatically.

“Thank you,” I said and hung up, giving Dad back his cell phone.  I looked at my parents.  “The school will need you to come down and have your pictures taken for Jerome’s emergency contact file.  I’m going down this afternoon, but I’d prefer if one of you stayed with Jerome.” 

“I never even thought about his schoolwork or books,” my mom breathed. 

“Everything okay?”  Jerome’s voice came from behind my father.

“Just a misunderstanding with your school,” I told him. 

“I don’t feel as bad as I think I should,” Jerome said.

“That’s because you’ve been preparing yourself for this day for a while,” I told him.  “Remember Dr. Nice said that might happen.” 

“Speaking of which, we’re supposed to have a family session with her today, do you want to go?” I asked him.  Camilla Nice had kept her maiden name for professional reasons, and she was Jerome’s grief therapist.

“Is she going to see patients today?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, but I need to run by the house and look at it anyway.  We can stop and ask her if you want.  But I can call and tell her it isn’t going to happen.” 

“Let’s go see her, she may not feel up to it anyway, and I’d like to tell her I don’t feel as bad as I think I should,” Jerome said. 

“Okay, kiddo.” 

“Do either of you feel up to breakfast?  I can make waffles really quick.” 

“I would love waffles,” Jerome said.  My mom got up and focused on breakfast.  Raphael stood on the porch with Jerome and I. 

“Do you want anything other than waffles?” Dad asked. 

“Bacon?” Jerome asked. 

“Sure,” Dad said. 

“We gotta eat,” Jerome said to me.  He walked over and took the seat next to me on the porch. 

“Yes, we do.”  By the time the waffles and bacon were done, my parents’ house was overrun with archangels, angels, and others.  I felt numb.  Like Jerome, I didn’t feel as bad as I thought I should have.  My uncles did a good job of walking on eggshells around us.  No one mentioned Valerie by name.  And no one asked if we were okay.  Around lunchtime, Dad loaned me his car and I drove Jerome and I to our house.  It sucked.  Even though dad’s car was larger and built to accommodate wings, I was never going to get the hang of driving with these things folded up at my sides.  I had to fold them, then pull them back behind my arms, and that took some maneuvering even with help from Jerome.

All that remained of our home was one garage wall and one wall toward the back of the house.  My garage door blackened, charred, and full of holes, lay on a pile off to the side of the house.  The neighbors had been watching for us, and everyone rushed out when we got out of the car. 

“You can both stay with us, if you want,” Abagail was saying as she came out her front door.  “They had to pull down a couple of walls left standing that were deemed unsafe.” 

“Thanks, but apparently, all my parents’ children and grandchildren are moving in with them temporarily, which will probably make them happy.”

“It got the neighbor house as well,” Jerome said, pointing to the abandoned house next door. 

“It was a hot fire.” Abagail told us.  She didn’t look bad for a woman that had walked into a burning building the day before.  Even some of Abagail’s vinyl siding had melted and run down the wall. 

“I hope our homeowner’s insurance pays for that,” I said, nodding at her house. 

“It will.  I called my insurance company this morning, and unless you started the fire intentionally, it’s covered.  If you started it intentionally, they want you to personally pay for it.  I know that isn’t the case, so we have no worries.” 

“But it was arson,” I said.

“Do you know that for sure?  I thought it took a while to get the fire investigator’s report.

“I haven’t gotten that yet, I’m just positive it was arson,” I said.  She stared at me, her eyes wide, and I shook my head no.  “Not what you’re thinking.  The security cam footage and the external hard drive were destroyed in the fire.” 

“Soleil, that’s impossible.  No one knew.”

“Yes, they did,” I responded dryly.  Camilla was standing next to us.  She cleared her throat. 

“I’ve cancelled your session today,” she said. 

“Would you mind talking to us for a few minutes?” Jerome asked her. 

“Of course, together or separate?” she asked.

“Together,” Jerome answered.  I shrugged and followed him to Bill and Camilla’s.  Camilla offered us both drinks as we entered her house and led us to her home office. 

I took a cup of coffee; Jerome had a glass of juice. 

“You don’t have to talk to me today if you don’t want to,” Camilla repeated after we’d all sat down. 

“I feel like I need to,” Jerome said.  “I know I’ve been preparing for this day, but I feel numb.  It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.”

“That could be because it wasn’t what you were expecting,” she said.  “It was traumatic, and it may not have sunk in yet.” 

“I should be devastated, but I’m kind of relieved at the same time,” Jerome said.  Camilla nodded.  “I feel guilty about that.”

“Your mom was sick, Jerome, so in some ways, it is a relief.  Whatever you’re feeling, it’s not wrong.  There’s no right way to feel about this.”

“I’m more worried that Soleil won’t be able to adopt me now than I am sad,” Jerome said.  I reached out and took hold of his hand.  He shed a few tears, wiping them away with the back of his hand. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” I told him. 

“Yes, I do.  I don’t want to go live with my aunt, who has already voiced her intention to use my power to make her money!” he said angrily. 

“Jerome, everyone who knows you, Soleil, and Valerie, knows your mom’s intention was for you to stay with Soleil.  You will not have to go live with your aunt or your grandparents.  We will all fight for you to stay with Soleil if we have to, but I can’t imagine it will come to that, since everything was started by Valerie before she passed away.” 

“It’s easy to tell me not to worry, but I do,” Jerome said, still sounding angry. 

“Jerome, I feel numb, too,” I said, trying to ease his mind.  “I can’t believe it and I don’t know what I should feel, but like you, mostly I feel numb, and to some degree, relief that she won’t have to suffer anymore.  I already miss her.  We’ll be okay, though.” 

“Will we?” he asked, turning to look at me. 

“Yes,” I said.  “If I have to go to the Stygian myself and bring back an army of demons to keep you safe, I will.” 

The session was less than 20 minutes and ended with Camilla encouraging us and participating in a group hug.  The hug brought tears from all of us, but not many.  As we were leaving, Camilla reminded us there was no right way to feel and it may take a while for reality to catch up with us. 

Outside, Bill offered to tear down the houses at no charge to me.  I didn’t know what to say.  I shrugged and said it would probably have to be released from the police and fire departments before anything could be done.  Jerome insisted on going with me to his school, and after a few minutes of arguing, I gave in.

We met with the principal and I showed her the pictures I’d taken of the house with my phone.  I assured her the only thing left of Jerome’s schoolwork was what he had in his backpack and what was in his locker.  We left with the understanding that Jerome did not have to attend the last two weeks of school, and that whatever his grades were right now would be his final grades.  Teachers were called in and it was discussed with them. He was passing everything, so we left with the understanding that next year he’d be a sophomore. 

He further insisted on going with me to the lawyer’s office.  I called and they made me an emergency appointment.  He was quiet through most of it.  But toward the end, as the lawyer and I discussed whether this would make it harder to push through the adoption, he interrupted.

“I can’t go live with my aunt or my grandparents,” he told the lawyer. 

“That shouldn’t be an issue,” the lawyer answered.  “Valerie made a point of signing a document a while back, specifically stating her reasons why you were not to go live with her family.  She even had it notarized.  Regardless of the usual difficulties in placing an orphan and the usual habits of the court trying to place them with family, we have Valerie’s statement that you are to be adopted by Soleil and no one else.  She also had me put this provision in her will.”

“Good, then I’m safe?”

“Yes,” the lawyer said.  “If your aunt comes around, we can get a restraining order if need be.” 

“Jerome, I’m not even sure she’s been notified yet.  I haven’t called and told her” I said.

“Good, I hope she doesn’t find out until after the funeral.”  That edge of anger was back in his voice.  About that time, I got a text from Mom telling us to meet her at the mall.  I frowned at it, wondering what on Earth she was doing at a mall and why she wanted us to meet her there.  I showed the text to Jerome after he got more assurances from the lawyer that he wouldn’t be going anywhere. 

We left.  Then my mom, dad, and Gabriel forced us to shop for two hours.  Because they had realized we didn’t have anything, not even clothes, anymore beyond what we were wearing.  Something that hadn’t really set in for me yet.  I hadn’t even thought about changing out of my clothes from yesterday. 

Dad and Gabriel took Jerome shopping.  Mom took me.  It was during this shopping trip that I fell to pieces.  Valerie was dead, Jerome and I didn’t have anything—no clothes, no books, no toys, no schoolwork, no shoes, not even bath towels.  I was one bad month away from being too poor to buy food.  Every dime I had ever saved went into my business and paying off my mortgage on a house that had only two walls left standing.  It could take weeks or months to get the insurance money, because I was sure they were going to mark it as arson and I was going to be investigated for it, or worse, they’d try to blame Valerie because she was dead and couldn’t defend herself against the charge. 

I had less stuff today than I had the day I’d graduated from school with my exorcist certificate, and I’d barely had enough stuff to fill a studio apartment back then. I’d owned nearly 30 towels.  Now I had none. 

I told my mom all of this while sitting in a changing room with a pair of jeans pulled up only to my knees, and my only pair of socks on my shoeless feet.  I cried, bawled, blubbered, and sobbed in despair.  I now had a 14-year-old boy to take care of who had lost not only his material possessions, but his mother.  Through the door, my mom told me it was going to be all right and that everything would work out as it was supposed to.  Even if insurance didn’t pay out for months, Jerome and I would never go hungry or do without anything we needed.  I also heard her explain to someone, probably a salesgirl, why I was having a meltdown in their dressing room. 

Eventually, I stood up and pulled up my pants.  Sitting there sobbing wasn’t going to get me clothes to wear tomorrow or the next day.  It wasn’t going to help Jerome.  I walked out a half hour later with three pairs of jeans, three shirts, three blouses, four business casual suits, and some dress boots with low heels.  Then as I was about to check out, my mom looked at me and frowned.

“You didn’t try any of those shirts on,” she said.

“Yes, I did,” I argued. 

“You forgot you have wings,” she quipped, and I put everything but the pants back.  I spent an hour at a specialty store, staring at price tags, wondering how they could get away with such blatant highway robbery.  My mom ran her debit card when the check-out girl gave me the total, with tax.  Just nine shirts had cost nearly as much as a used car. 

“I have to learn to tailor clothes,” I said to her.  “I don’t mind spending ten bucks on a shirt and making my own wing holes.” 

“Soleil, you couldn’t make a pillowcase with the help of magic in school.  How do you intend to get good enough to create wing holes in your clothes?” 

“I don’t want to spend a hundred dollars every time I need a new shirt and more than 500 when I need a new suit,” I told her.  “Aren’t there stores that cater to poor angels?”

“Online,” my mom replied.  “There are what, a thousand angels in the world, total, maybe 200 nephilim; it isn’t a booming market.  Plus, you have full-sized wings, it’s not like some of your cousins with their stubby little wings, yours are like your dads.” 

“Well that’s just insane.” I said, still defiant. 

“Wings are expensive,” she said as I caught one in a clothing rack and pulled all the clothes off it.  “You need to work on controlling them a little better.”“

“I’m forty and I just got them.  I think there’s a learning curve and I’m way, way behind it,” I huffed, as I righted it and the salespeople ran over to help me put everything back together. 

“I’ve never seen an angel with red wings,” one of the girls said to me. 

“Apparently, when they stay in your body for 40 years, they don’t come out white,” I said and immediately apologized for being catty.  It wasn’t her fault I had wings suddenly.  Then everyone wanted to hear the story because they were all angels.  By the time I got through the serial killer attacking my neighbors, I was drawing a crowd as shoppers were also coming to listen to me. 

The conclusion of the how I got my wings story was the horrible house fire and the death of my best friend Valerie and how she had charged me with finishing raising her son.  I felt surprisingly better.  Several people were crying, even a few of the men.  One woman asked for business cards to pass out to everyone she knew, just in case they ever had to deal with a demon or needed a witch.  Three others walked to the checkout and bought gift cards, then rushed to catch Mom and I as we left and give them to me.  I thanked them and assured them it wasn’t really necessary, but they insisted I keep them.  Mom glared at me.  I decided to avoid eye contact.  Gabriel, Raphael, and Jerome were outside the store waiting for us.  Several people asked if they were archangels.  A few others asked if there was anywhere to donate to Jerome’s education.  Mom continued to frown at me. 

“What on Earth?” my dad asked. 

“Your daughter decided to vent in the store after she knocked over a clothes rack.  She forgot that not only can she make people feel happy, she can make them feel what she’s feeling.  Everyone feels bad for her and Jerome....”  My mother snipped. 

“If anyone cares, I feel better,” I said.  “I needed to unload, apparently.”

“Jerome did too,” Dad said as we walked.  “He had a breakdown while trying on clothes, and even though I insisted he was being well provided for, three people in there bought him stuff.”

“He occasionally uses her magic,” Gabriel smiled.  “I noticed one day when they showed up for a baseball game that being around him made me happy, which was weird, because he’s a wizard, but it wasn’t just happy he was there.  It was a feeling of peace and well-being, like what I experience around Soleil.”