by Carly Fall
Chapter 19
The next morning, Adela and Liam sat in the local café. The air was heavy with a wonderful smell of orange blossoms. She inhaled deeply, wondering if there was a bubble bath or body lotion with the same beautiful scent.
They sat close together, talking quietly so the other patrons would not hear what they were saying. Adela doubted that would be an issue though—most seemed very engrossed in their own table conversations based on the low-level buzz surrounding them. Neither had brought up their late-night chat this morning, which was fine with her.
She kept to herself in her angel role and had never spoken of her death in such detail as she did last night. It was cathartic to tell the full story and to have someone appreciate the anger and hostility she experienced. Because of this, she felt a connection with Liam that most certainly hadn’t been there before, and it was as if they were truly partners in saving Jeff. It felt right.
She almost felt as though she had lied or committed some other transgression by not telling Liam of her husband and lost children. She reminded herself he had asked about her death, not her life. Talking about her babies would be very difficult, even after all this time.
“Did you see the look on his face when Jeff spoke about his wife?” Adela asked, knowing that her face never glowed with love when she spoke of her husband hundreds of years ago.
“I did. He’s our guy, and she’s the one he’s supposed to be with.”
“How in the world are we going to manage this? Where do we find her? How do we bring them back together?”
Liam stared out at the street. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I’m not above breaking and entering into his apartment so we can get more information.”
“For God’s sake he’s a police officer, Liam. That would be very stupid.”
Liam nodded. “I know. But what else are we supposed to do?”
They sat in silence for a moment.
Adela thought about Jeff’s tattoos peeking out of his T-shirt. They were on his biceps, and she wondered how far up they went. Did they cover his chest? His back? From what she could see, they were a swirl of color, but she couldn’t make out what they were.
“What do you think the tattoos meant?” she asked.
Liam shrugged. “Don’t know. Usually tattoos have a meaning to the person who wears them. Most of the time you don’t know the significance until you ask them.”
Adela’s mind wandered, wondering what type of tattoo she would get if she were so inclined. A woman in Puritan clothing? A picture of a noose? Angel wings? It was something to think about. What picture would she put on her body and what would it signify? What would it mean to her?
“We need to form a bond—a friendship. We need to earn his trust so that he confides in us,” Liam said.
She sipped her coffee, thankful for the sunglasses they had purchased yesterday. It made sitting outside much easier on the eyes.
“I agree. Jeff and Missy have been neighbors for a long time. I bet she can give us information on Jeff’s wife.”
“I think I’m going to have to step up to the plate here, Adela. I think this has to be a man-to-man thing. Maybe take him out to a club or pub. Have a few drinks to get him talking.”
Adela considered this. Would she be comfortable going out to a club? Probably not, even though she had been in many of them. She had delivered a soul who’d passed in the bathroom from a drug overdose in one club, and in another, there had been a knife fight where three people had died. Being in a club hadn’t been a big deal when she was an angel, but now that she was human she felt apprehensive. The assault of high-powered music, the smells, the crush of bodies . . . no, she wasn’t quite ready for that.
“I think you’re right,” she agreed. “This is something that you should take care of, man-to-man, as you say.”
Liam nodded and sipped his coffee.
“However, I feel the need to remind you that you aren’t an angel any longer.”
Liam grinned. Adela tried to see behind his sunglasses, but they were too dark. “Oh, I’m very aware of that.”
They sat in silence a while longer and Adela contemplated love. What did it feel like to be so miserable without another person in your life? What did love feel like? Did it make a person feel physically different? It was an emotion, so she suspected there was a fundamental change on that level.
She thought of her own marriage. It had been arranged, and it wasn’t something she had questioned, just something that needed to be done. No, she definitely hadn’t loved Edward, and she never felt anything like love from him. They had simply joined together because it was expected of them. Her parents’ marriage had been arranged as well, yet they seemed to like each other. But were they in love? She didn’t know.
She vaguely remembered a friend of hers, Julia, who claimed to love her husband. There were stolen glances between them, and Adela witnessed a gentle caress of hands every now and then or when they thought no one was watching, a chaste kiss. Was that what being in love looked like? Two people holding hands? Kissing? Her parents did none of that in her presence.
Adela had certainly upheld her wifely duties, but had she enjoyed them? Perhaps “enjoyed” was too strong a word. Just like everything in her marriage, she tolerated the act.
She glanced over at Liam. She wanted to understand love, but she didn’t know where to go to for the answers. Then she remembered that Evangeline had said something about Liam being in love at one time.
“Tell me about when you were in love,” she said, taking a sip of coffee.
Liam stared out into the street, and after a moment he said, “Nothing to tell. I loved her, she loved me, she died, I didn’t.”
“What does that mean? That she died and you didn’t?”
He turned to her. “It means she died. I didn’t. We were in an accident together.”
Liam’s mouth was in a hard, straight line, and she wished she could see behind his glasses. She had a feeling his green eyes would be flashing in anger. But she pressed on.
“How did the accident happen?”
“I don’t like to talk about it, Adela. It was a long time ago and sometimes stuff is better left in the past.”
He turned back toward the street, and Adela knew she was right—he was definitely angry.
“I’m hundreds of years older than you, so it couldn’t have been that long ago, Liam,” Adela murmured.
Liam stared out into the street for a moment. “You’re right. It wasn’t long ago when you put it like that. In fact, it was so recent, it’s still painful.”
Adela stared at him for a moment and decided not to press it. She had just gotten a glimpse of something besides the obnoxious Aussie, something that told her there was more to Liam than met the eye.
“I’m sorry I upset you,” she said, playing with her coffee mug.
“You didn’t,” he bit out.
Ah, it certainly sounded as if she had done just that.
Adela’s thoughts went back to love and the emotions involved. Where could she find the answers she searched for? Glancing over at Liam, it was obvious she wasn’t going to get them from him.
Then she remembered seeing a sign down the street that pointed to a library. A library had books. Surely, they would have books on the subject that she could study. The more she studied the subject, the more effective she would be in her role as an Angel of Affection.
But she wasn’t going there with Liam. He seemed focused on the task, not wanting to share his experience with her. This would be a mission she completed on her own.
“I’m going to head back to the apartment,” she announced, standing, “but first I’m going to make a quick stop.”
“You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
“Absolutely. Finish your coffee and I’ll see you back at the apartment shortly.”
Adela walked down the palm tree-lined streets and turned right. A block later she saw the sign for the library. It was a small building p
erfect for the small community. She went directly to the front counter and was greeted by a small gray-haired woman with a bright smile.
“How can I help you?”
Adela blushed, now feeling somewhat stupid about her inquiry. How did she tell this little, old woman that she was interested in learning about love?
“Um . . .”
“Yes?”
Perhaps she should take the Liam approach and just be blunt. “I’m interested in learning about love.”
The woman arched her eyebrows and stood. “Very well. Let me show you what we have, honey.”
Adela followed her through the stacks of books, marveling at all the words housed in the small building. She slowly traced her finger over the spines, seeing many different names and titles. So much creativity and hard work from so many different people left her feeling awed.
The woman stopped and ran her fingers over the book spines. “Here we go. Take a look at that, and if it’s not what you’re looking for, let me know and we’ll try something else.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“Of course, honey, that’s what I’m here for.”
Adela found a chair next to a window in quiet corner and opened the book. She read the first few pages and yawned. The sun filtering in through the window warmed her shoulders, making her feel like she needed a nap. She flipped ahead and saw all types of graphs with footnotes mentioning studies about brain function, along with pictures of the brain in different colors. It was a book about how the brain reacted when a person was in love, and although she supposed it could be interesting to the right person, it wasn’t for her. She was looking for something different, but she wasn’t sure what.
On her way back to the front desk, a book with the title, The Salem Witch Trials, caught her eye. She thumbed through the book, reading bits and pieces, her stomach coiling at the rudimentary drawings. She found the page where the “witches” were listed and she saw her name—Adela Bonner.
“Oh my word, I’m in a book,” she mumbled, both awed and angered as she recalled why.
Setting the book back on the shelf, she tried to focus. She was here to learn about love. She made her way to the front desk.
The woman smiled. “Not quite what you’re looking for?”
Adela smiled. “No. But frankly, I’m not certain what I’m looking for. I just want . . . I want to learn about love between two people. I’ve never been in love and I . . .”
The woman smiled and stood. “So you’re looking for something with a little more . . . zing?”
Nodding, Adela had no idea what zing was, but it had to be better than the book she had just leafed through.
“Follow me, honey.”
Back into the stacks of books they went, and the woman stopped at a wall with hundreds of books. Above them was a sign that said Romance.
“Love and romance always go together,” she said, patting Adela’s arm. “Pick a few. Do you have a library account?”
Adela shook her head, staring at all the books, feeling a little overwhelmed.
“Once you make your choice, come up to the front desk and I’ll get you set up with a library account.”
Adela stared at the books, unsure of what to pick. Finally, she randomly pulled five off the shelves and brought them up to the counter. A few minutes later, she was the proud owner of a library card and had a stack of books that would tell her about love. Perhaps she would finally understand it.
