Chapter Seven

 

Luke swung his leg over the cloud, unable to gather no energy to perform the smallest task. Riding his beloved Harley held no appeal. It only made him wish Alice were sitting behind him.

On great gilded wings, Peter approached across the skies. “Hello Luke.”

“Peter.” Too bad he couldn’t add, good to see you. Seeing Peter made him think of Alice too. As if Luke needed a reminder. All he did was think of her.

Peter settled beside him. “If I’m not interrupting, we need to talk.”

“About what.” He didn’t have to phrase it as a question; he couldn’t avoid this conversation if he tried.

Peter’s long white hair flowed as he raised his head to send Luke an admiring smile. “First, congratulations on your first assignment. Splendid job. So good, in fact, I have another for you.”

A wince and a groan. Double slip. “No.” Make that triple.

“Pardon?” Peter steepled his fingers.

No matter the punishment, they couldn’t force him. “I’m not going back to Earth. I want nothing to do with humans.”

Peter nodded. “I see.”

“Do you?” Anger surged up. “Why did you send me there? You knew what would happen.” Of course Peter had known. The assignment had been a test. Luke had failed. Was still failing.

A slow burn gained strength in Peter’s eyes as he glared.

The heat of it sent a chill down Luke’s spine, until Peter spoke.

The archangel slowly cocked his head. “You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me?”

“Cut the De Niro.” He’d like to insult Peter and say he did an awful impression, but Peter must have been practicing.

“Come now, Luke. You can’t sit here for all eternity.”

“Yes I can.” Now he sounded like a petulant child.

Peter snapped his fingers. “Why not join me on the Welcoming Committee?”

“At the Pearly Gates? No thanks.” Then he’d search every incoming face for hers, waiting to see her. He might even wish for her demise to happen sooner, and he wouldn’t wish her ill. She deserves happiness. Pampering. Then he imagined a man taking her to dinner, kissing her, and Luke dug his fingers into the cloud, sparking lightning.

Clasping his hands behind him, Peter floated. “Oh dear. This presents a dilemma.”

Perhaps for the saint. Luke had no problem idling away the eons.

With a mischievous gleam, Peter turned. “Would wings brighten your outlook?”

Luke shrugged. He used to yearn for them, envy those angels with magnificent pairs of them. Now, he didn’t want them. All he could think about was returning to earth. To Alice.

Peter sighed. “I have an appointment. I’ll get back to you.”

“I’ll be here.” He nestled back and closed his eyes. An image of Alice loomed in his mind. The night she’d fallen asleep in his arms. The best night of his existence. He’d watched her, more angelic than any of his contemporaries, so beautiful it made his soul ache. That was when he realized he’d fallen for her.

Wonder what they do with fallen angels? He had no idea; he still hadn’t read the Ground Rules. He’d endure whatever punishment they meted out. He wanted to be with her.

In an instant, Luke stood beside her bed. Her hair spread across the pillow like a halo, but even though she slept, she had a pained expression. He wanted to reach over to ease the crease between her brows.

He settled for tugging the comforter over her exposed foot. Not before he admired the pale pink polish on her toes. Drat, he shouldn’t have looked. It only made him miss her more, if that were possible.

He had to stop this. It was the third time in her week he’d transported here. Archimedes acknowledged him with a purr.

Would Alice still see him, too, if she awoke? He fought the urge to curl himself against her. The night during his assignment when he had given into the very same temptation, he’d experienced a bliss better than any in heaven.

He leaned close to her ear. “I miss you, Alice,” he whispered.

She stirred, clutching the pillow. “Luke?”

Her soft voice tore at his heart. He glided to the shadows in the corner of the room and waited for her to close her eyes again. He’d have to content himself with watching, though he no longer held that title.

Officially, he no longer held any title. If the former pope thought he’d done away with limbo, then that meant Luke couldn’t even claim to be in that state.

He was more hopeless than ever, lost to this earthly world and the next. Only the memory of Alice made him feel real.

She wasn’t supposed to remember.

But if she called out for him, she must.

His heart twisted in his chest. Something else that shouldn’t happen. But most definitely did.

 

*~*~*

 

“Luke?” Alice dreamed so vividly, she thought they must be real. Awakening, she still had an awareness of his presence, and could swear he’d been there. Maybe her memory played tricks on her.

He was the last thing she thought of before falling asleep, and the first thing when she awoke. She thought of him all day, no matter what she did. Against all reasonable line of thought, she expected to find him at the grocery store, in the library, in the art supply store. She went to every church within walking distance to sit in the back pew and listen. And beg: Please send him back.

The number seven held power, Luke had said. Magic.

Seven must hold the key to bringing him back. She made seven origami motorcycle ornaments. Seven snowflakes. Seven angels. Though she only wanted one angel, in reality: Luke.

She hung the ornaments on the tree, hoping each set would multiply the power of seven. Every night, beginning at seven o’clock, she wished seven times.

She tried everything she could think of to summon him, with no result. Each failure seemed more futile than the last.

One day, she returned to her apartment to find the window open enough for Archimedes to slip through. He lay in the sunshine on the fire escape. When she opened the window to stroke him, the cat turned slitted eyes toward her.

“Was he here? Did Luke open the window for you?” She picked up Archimedes and cradled the cat against her. Why hadn’t Luke stayed?

Within minutes, Penny called with another project, again from Michael. “A lovely story about a fallen angel who gets lost on earth. It’s called Ground Rules.”

Alice barely croaked out, “What?”

“Hello? Our connection’s gone bad. I’ll email you the information.”

Hanging up, Alice’s hand trembled. Was this a sign? Or some cruel joke?

Turning on the computer, her nerves jangled, waiting for the email to arrive. She clicked on it the moment it appeared. She’d heard correctly. Michael wrote the most beautiful tale about an angel who couldn’t bear to be in heaven, away from loved ones. So he returned to earth.

Her breath caught in her throat. Another sign? If so, what did it mean?

After pressing print, she caught each page as it came through. Maybe they’d granted her another gift. Another chance. Maybe she had the power to make her own wish come true this time.

She rushed to the easel. Images rushed into her mind. Almost without effort, she rendered each illustration with loving care, and turned them in much sooner than the deadline.

Again, Penny loved them, and Michael acted overjoyed. So happy, he invited her out to celebrate.

Excuses ran through Alice’s head. “I’m seeing someone.” Much as she hated to hurt Michael, she had to spare his feelings now. She’d never love him.

“I see. Congratulations.”

Might want to hold off on the wedding toast. “You’re a very special friend.” If only she could talk to him about Luke. She ached to talk about him with someone. Anyone who might listen without thinking her insane.

Michael chuckled. “Ouch.”

“No, really. You’re a wonderful man. You deserve the best happiness.”

He flashed a tight smile. “Apparently not of my choosing, though.”

“Someday, you’ll understand.” Maybe she’d even understand the meaning. Why things happened as they did.

Right now, it all seemed a terrible, unsolvable mess.

 

*~*~*

 

Alice scowled out the window. Snow used to excite her. Make her want to run outside, kick up the fluffy newfallen layers with girlish glee. Throw her arms wide, twirl and catch snowflakes on her tongue. Where others saw drudgery, Alice saw magic.

Now snow, like Christmas, served only as a bitter reminder. She couldn’t wait for it to disappear. Like Luke. But when the snow returned next winter, would her heartache deepen?

A bitter chuckle erupted. How could it get any worse?

Every day, she walked through the cold snow, not caring when slush seeped through her shoes. She couldn’t get any more numb. Like the Christmas tree she couldn’t bring herself to take down. Each day she swept up more needles, like dried up bits of herself.

How could she dismantle the tree when her treetop angel had never returned? Its absence had to mean something.

When Penny called, Alice knew better than to ignore it. Her agent would only call and call.

“We’re having a huge celebration this Saturday. It’s Valentine’s Day, but thanks to you, we’ll celebrate Christmas all year.”

Great, then the entire year would be torture. “Great.” Cupid didn’t seem a good bet either. Holidays in general seemed hazardous.

“So you’ll come?” Penny pressed.

Alice had successfully dodged her agent’s invitations for weeks. She wasn’t about to break that streak. “No thanks. I have plans I can’t break.”

“Is everything all right? You haven’t been yourself since Christmas.”

Christmas changed everything. Nothing would ever be the same. “Of course. Have a great time.” Alice had a date with a wish. Every night, with tomorrow night marking seven weeks. Surely tomorrow, her wish would be granted. Luke would return. They’d celebrate with margaritas.

Sinking into the sofa, she watched the Christmas lights until dawn. Excitement gave way to trepidation.

“Soon. Any minute.” She had to stay awake, be ready.

Sleep found her, finally. She awoke with a start.

Breathless, she listened, but heard only Archimedes’ low purr. “Luke?” Her throat constricted as she rose and went to the window. The world had grown dark except for the gleam of new fallen snow.

Magical? Bitterness surged through her. Hardly. Snow no longer held any promise. No magic existed anymore.

How could they possibly have been refused a wish so desperate? Because she’d already used her only allotment of wishes? Surely they must know how deeply she loved Luke. More than a wish, she needed him with every breadth of her being.

Sadness pinged within her. Maybe Luke had refused to come? No, she wouldn’t believe it. Not the way he’d held her. If anything held magic, his kisses did.

Why should Christmas be the only magic day? She’d leave her tree up all year, and beg the Christmas angel seven times seven times seven. More, if she had to.

 

*~*~*

 

Unable to stand his own company any longer, Luke wandered to one of the choir’s music rooms. Good, no one occupied it. He pulled the bench up to the piano and let his sadness roll over the keys. The melodies floated through the air like birds in springtime, free for the first time from their nests. Soaring and beautiful, or slow and tragic. He wanted to remember them all. Each was a tribute to Alice.

When Peter appeared beside him, Luke cut short a song, waiting for the inevitable.

Peter didn’t disappoint. “Play it again, Sam.”

Luke sighed.

“Too obvious?” Peter floated to the side of the baby grand. “Your songs are wonderful, Luke, but not enough to justify your status.”

Oh, tedium. Now what? “My status?” As a loaf?

With a thin smile, Peter continued. “Even here, dear boy, we must apply ourselves. Do our best. I’ve been monitoring you since you returned. I’m disappointed, to say the least.”

“My apologies.” Disappointing people was what Luke did best. Ask Alice. He’d left her broken-hearted, though not by choice. He’d like nothing better than to hold her again. Kiss her. Stay with her. Grow old with her. He deserved to have that at least once in his existence.

In his version of pacing, Peter floated back and forth. “Though you don’t apply yourself here, Luke, I suspect you applied yourself too liberally in your last assignment.”

Not as liberally as he’d have liked. “I’m sorry, Peter.” Sorry he ever came back.

“So you admit it?”

“Yes. I broke the primary Ground Rule.” He’d become involved with a human subject. But he’d restrained himself. Barely.

Peter’s face hardened. Beneath his flowing robes, his form grew rigid.

Luke had never seen Peter angry, but right now, the saint appeared full of wrath.

Peter pointed at him, and bursts of light shot out like bullets. “I know what you’re thinking. Did he fire six shots, or only five?”

Good Lord. He’d mistaken wrath for a bad Dirty Harry impression. With a sigh, Luke rolled his eyes. “Peter…”

“You have to ask yourself, do I feel lucky? Well do you, punk?”

“No.” The retort burst from Luke, unable to contain his frustration. “I feel like the most unlikely person who ever lived.”

Peter’s expression softened. “You’re not alive, Luke. You haven’t been for two hundred eighteen years.”

Thanks for the reminder. Though a short while ago, he’d felt more alive than he ever had, even when he breathed and walked the earth. “I know.”

Peter sighed. “You violated the most important Ground Rule. I’m afraid you’ll have to make reparations.”

Oh, more tedium. “In what way?”

“The standard punishment is confinement to this realm for the next century.”

Alarm shot through him. A century? Alice would live out her life without him. “What happens if I don’t agree?” He couldn’t stand the thought of her heartbreak extending for decades.

Furrowing his brow, Peter said, “I’m afraid that’s not an option.”

So Peter intended to keep him imprisoned behind the Pearly Gates? No way. So as not to alert the saint, Luke nodded, and kept his head down.

“I’m sorry, Luke. It’s for your own good.”

Peter had no clue what did Luke good. “I understand.” Luke clenched his jaw, waiting for the saint to disappear.

“I must confer with the Subcommittee on Angel Assignments. I’ll bring you their final decision as soon as I have it.”

Whooshing air indicated Peter had taken off.

Glancing around to be sure, Luke released a breath.

Finally. He had to act now, or he might not get another chance.

 

*~*~*

 

The Harley waited like an accomplice. Luke straddled it and jammed his foot on the starter. Normally the loud growl of the engine filled his heart with joy. Now, it increased his fear. If they heard him leaving, they’d stop him.

Luke couldn’t let that happen.

After revving it to warm it up, he sped away into the clouds. After clearing the seventh chamber, he steered the bike down.

No extreme riding today. Unless imitating a bird of prey in a freefall dive counted. He broke the speed of light. The blue orb of Earth came into view, and he pressed against the handlebars, willing the Harley to move faster.

A glow of light appeared beside him, matching his pace.

Peter frowned over at him. “Turn back.”

Luke grimaced. “I can’t.”

“I have the subcommittee’s decision. Stop now.”

Luke pressed lower over the motorcycle. “No.”

When Peter dropped away, an unease crept over Luke. He glanced around. Had the saint given up? It seemed unlikely but—

A lightning bolt shot past his ear.

“Whoa!” Luke steered the bike away.

Another bolt zinged by, then another. Obviously, the saint hadn’t aimed to destroy him, or Luke would be a smoldering pile of ash.

Luke flattened himself against the Harley and hit the gas. “Sorry Peter. Alice needs me more than you.” And I need her. More than he wanted to admit. He couldn’t face eternity without her.

A cloud in his path darkened to charcoal, and a light shone from within. “Luke. I want to talk to you. Stop.”

Not even Peter could stop him. “I said no.”

“Don’t be a fool, Luke. Is Alice worth your demise?”

“Yes.”

“So you admit you believe in love? That you have feelings for the girl?”

“Yes, I love her! I believe!” With the admission came the most freeing, wonderful feeling. Luke loved Alice. He couldn’t wait to tell her.

“All right,” Peter said. “Have it your way.” The cloud dissipated.

Luke passed through the thinning mist. A jolt sent him flying from the Harley. Both spun down in a wild dance. Pure white feathers whirled around them.

The earth rose up faster than Luke would have liked. His ethereal form filled in with flesh and bone. Breakable bone.

Just in time to splat on touchdown.

“Peter, you can’t.” Not now. He had so much to say to Alice. So much to share with her. Now he’d never have the chance.

Buildings loomed larger. “Please.” Luke whooshed past a church spire, stained glass images of pious souls, so much more pious than himself. “Forgive me!”

Peter’s voice echoed from above. “That’s all you needed to say. The subcommittee decided to grant your wish.”

My wish? Arms flailing, he braced for impact with the sidewalk he rushed toward.

A flash blinded him. The scene evaporated into light.

Through it, Peter’s voice echoed. “You will return to earth as a man, Luke. Winning Alice’s heart will be up to you.”

The next moment, Luke stood on Main Street. Across town from Alice’s loft.

Scanning his body, he patted his chest. Flesh and bone. A man. “I’m me. I’m here.” He wore his same boots, jeans, tee shirt and leather jacket, more dull than before. Limbs shaking, but he felt. Felt the snowflakes on his cheek, cold and wet. Felt the frosty air scrape his lungs. Felt the old familiar nervousness mingling with excitement.

He was on Earth. He had another chance. He had to find Alice. Now. But how?

In one of the pockets, he found keys to a motorcycle. Glancing to his left, he saw it. His Harley. A little battered than he remembered, but absolutely real. “Thank you, Peter.”

The bike roared to life, but Luke hesitated. What if she didn’t want him in dull human form? Fear held him in place until he resolved he had only one way to find out.

 

*~*~*

 

A flutter of white caught Alice’s eye. “No. No more snow.”

Beside the Christmas tree, she found a feather, the purest white. “He’s been here,” she told Archimedes.

Holding it tight, she closed her eyes. “You’re my wish, Luke. My most fervent, final wish in this world.”

Her breath caught when a motorcycle rumbled in the street. “Who’d be crazy enough to drive one in February?”

Only one person she knew would be that crazy. She ran downstairs, barefoot. Definitely feeling the snow, but she didn’t care.

The Harley sat by the curb. The rider cut the engine. He rose, and swung his leg over the bike to stand on the sidewalk.

“Luke?” It was him, she knew it. It had to be. She wanted to run out there, throw herself at him, but fear froze her in place.

The guy just stood there, snowflakes swirling all around him. Finally he took off his helmet and set it atop the bike. “Hello Alice.”

He sounded different. Looked different—no glow about him, not picture perfect as he was before. The helmet had matted his hair. He no longer appeared perfect.

He was… human.

Joy welled up. “Luke!” It freed her to run to him. Her bare feet slid on the cold slush, but it barely registered. She reveled in the solid feel of his body as she flung her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d be back.”

Through a grin, he winced. “No you didn’t.”

“I believed.” She stroked his hair. Not as silky to the touch, but she loved it even more. It felt real—like him.

Looking down at her, he shifted a hip. “You doubted.”

“Okay, maybe a little. I am human. So are you.” She filled her arms with his solid form. So unbelievably good to hold him and know he couldn’t vanish without a trace.

“Yes.” He appeared shy, uncertain of himself. “Are you sorry I’m here?”

“Don’t be crazy. I wished for you.” Why wasn’t he kissing her?

One side of his mouth tugged up in a lopsided grin. “I know. I heard.”

Her heart raced, but still she held back. “But I have to know—did you wish for me too?”

He dropped his chin to his chest. “Alice…”

“Did you?” If he didn’t want to be here, could she stand the fact she’d forced him into returning? He’d hate her.

His eyes shone with a light brighter than any treetop star. “From the first moment I saw you.”

She released a sharp breath, giddy with relief. “Really? Because I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t really want to be here. With me.”

He rested his forehead against hers. “It’s all I’ve wanted.”

She breathed in his warm exhale. “Me too.”

His blue eyes had no eternal, shining depth, but she preferred them like this.

“You might regret it,” he said softly.

“I might,” she admitted. “Sometimes.”

At his crestfallen look, she went on. “So might you. But that goes with the territory.”

“The territory.” He glanced around. “I kind of like the territory.”

Would he never just…“Shut up and kiss me.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“Don’t wait for me to ask. Just do it.” Tightening her embrace, she drew him close.

If his kiss as an angel had thrilled her, his soft lips as a man felt even better. Her excitement doubled with the thought he would be staying. She jerked her head back.

“Now what’s wrong?” He slumped. “I knew it. I knew you’d be disappointed.”

“You are, right?” When he tilted his head in question, she clarified. “Staying. You’re here for good?”

His face softened. “Yes. For as long as you want me. Or as long as heaven allows.”

Thank God. “I guess we better not waste any time then. Why don’t you come upstairs?”

“Again, I thought you’d never ask.”

She clutched his jacket. “Again, don’t wait for me to ask. You have a lot to learn.”

He chuckled. “Apparently. Lucky I have you to teach me.”

“Yes you are. I’m lucky too.” She’d be grateful forever.

From somewhere in the distance, above the clouds, sounded a voice: He’s back. And this time, it’s personal.

Alice scanned the heavens, but saw nothing. “Who was that?” Or should she ask what?

Luke’s smile was lopsided. “A friend. Let’s go inside.”

Squeezing his hand, she led him to the door. “This is the best day ever.”

“No, the best day yet.”

In frustration, she turned to scold him for arguing already. Until he smiled.

“We’ll have plenty more.” Pulling her inside, he pressed his lips to hers in a heavenly kiss.

 

 

###

 

 

About the Author

 

Cate Masters has made beautiful central Pennsylvania her home, but she’ll always be a Jersey girl at heart. Most days, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of contemporary, historical, and fantasy/ paranormal stories with her cat Chairman Maiow and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com, and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.