Providence: On Angels' Wings

by Lauren Wynn

  “No.” I hold back a laugh so my ribs won’t hurt. “Hey, Prov…”

  “Yeah?” Her voice is muffled by the pillow.

  “When are we getting married?”

  She turns her head up to me, leans forward, and gives me an Eskimo kiss. “July 23.”

  “What day is it today?”

  “June 19.”

  “How long have I been back?”

  “Three days.”

  My eyes widen. “I’ve been sleeping for three days?”

  “Pretty much. Hope said your body is rebuilding and restoring itself. You’ll be good as new in no time.”

  Providence yawns. I painfully lift my arm and brush wisps of brown hair from her cheeks. I pucker my lips. She smiles, presses hers to mine, and nestles close, curling her head toward my neck.

  I clear my throat and begin to sing, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away…”

  She turns her watery eyes up and takes a deep breath. “My dad used to sing that to me when I was a little girl. I think that was the only verse he ever knew because he would sing it over and over rubbing my back until I fell asleep.” She pauses. “Where did you hear it?”

  I smile and see my face in her pupils. “Your dad.”

  She sits up, quickly shaking the bed. “Sorry, sorry.” She pats my shoulder. “When?”

  “When I was gone. Providence…I met your mom too. She’s a beautiful woman.”

  Shocked, she cups her hand over her mouth and lies back down next to me.

  We spent the better part of the next couple hours talking about the storm, the desert, Lenox’s oasis, and my visit with her parents. She told me about her father’s incredibly sad funeral, work, her excellent grades in history and algebra and the first weeks of summer classes, the key details of our wedding, updates on Lily and Falls, Taylor and Knox, organizing the house, Luke selling her dad’s house, Leo taking her flying to cheer her up (which I will handle with him when I have my strength back and no longer have to roll out of bed) and taking Summer, our flower girl, out for ice cream. By the time the sun started peaking through the blinds, we were both so exhausted we fell back to sleep, curled against each other on the single hospital bed.

  * * * *

  “I’m going to change his band. Luke take a look at this.”

  “Ah, let the kids sleep. You can change his bandage when he wakes.”

  Hearing their voices from the doorway, I blink my eyes, opening them slowly. My stomach aches with hunger, almost to the point of nausea, but Providence looks so peaceful I don’t want to wake her.

  “It’s so sweet I could just cry, that they would curl up together in that tiny little bed.”

  “If my memory serves me well, I seem to recall you climbing into a twin bed with me when I returned.”

  I smile and close my eyes for a tad more sleep.

  “Luke,” Hope starts, “I think we just gained another son and daughter.” Her voice conveys the loving smile I imagine on her face.

  * * * *

  After a week and a half, I am finally able to go home, no longer requiring frequent bandage changes and ointment applications. My right arm is still in a sling, preventing my shoulder from moving. Under my shirt, I continue to have to wear the thick white bandage around my ribs, but the cuts that were on my brow and hairline are gone, leaving only the thinnest scars. The skin on my back remains bright red and incredibly tender, but I have gotten used to sleeping on my side or stomach. What I haven’t been able to get used to is eating. Providence always has to remind me, and when she’s at school or work, the growl of my stomach does.

  We make our way down the street in the light of the evening. The sky is a deep orange where the sun is beginning to set. Flowers color the beds of mulch in front of the houses that line our street. Tiger and day lilies wave in the summer breeze. Whiffs of freshly cut grass swirl around us.

  The outdoor air cleanses as it fills my lungs. I have always found a sense of peace in nature and the beauty in all things created. Being tied to a bed for the past several days has made me antsy. So when Providence asked if we should drive the one street from Luke’s to our house, I told her I wanted to walk, even if we moved at a snail’s pace. It’s nice being on a walk with her again, just holding hands, quiet and comfortable.

  “Welcome home, Zan,” she announces as we walk through the wrought-iron gate.

  Holding hands, we walk into our home, and a breeze of clean cotton wafts from the burning white candles strategically placed around the home. Golden light streams in the foyer windows, tinting the walls. Our house looks larger than I remember.

  “Smells good.” My chest rises and falls as I inhale another deep breath.

  “I thought it would feel more like home for you.”

  “It does. Not because of the fragrance. Because of you. You’re my home.” I lean down and kiss her forehead.

  Providence takes my hand and leads me up the winding staircase. Furniture is no longer scattered in the foyer or piled up randomly in the bedrooms. Rather, it’s arranged in just the right locations. Photographs and family pictures hang on the walls and decorate the mantels. She even painted a few walls in the upstairs bedrooms with various accent colors.

  “What do you think?” she asks as I glance around the master bedroom.

  The walls have been ragged with a beige glaze. Red tulips and framed photos line the mantel top. The sliding glass door is now accented with deep-red, sheer curtains, the ones from her old bedroom. A dark-walnut sleigh bed leans against the wall across from the stone fireplace. It is covered with a deep-red and cream, florally printed comforter and a long dresser matching the bed rests against the wall opposite the sliding glass door. Three square pictures of red tulips hang on the wall above the headboard. Golden rays shine in through the windows. Flecks of silvery dust hang suspended. Votive candles in glass containers line the dresser and the fireplace. The flames flicker in the warm June breeze.

  “It looks greats, Prov.” I grin.

  “You said I had to get something larger than a twin, so I did.”

  “And after the past week and a half of sleeping cramped up next to me in that hospital bed, this is going to feel wonderful.”

  “Just because it’s bigger doesn’t mean we have to use all of it.” She winks. “Don’t you think for one second that that’s an option. Hear me, mister?”

  I smile and pull her against my chest with my good arm. “Loud and clear, Little One.” I rest my chin on her head and laugh.

  Wanna test it out?

  I bend down brushing my lips across hers. “Miss me, did ya?”

  “You have no idea.” She guides me backward to the bed.

  On the edge of the bed I prop my feet on the side boards. Providence moves to stand between my legs, presses her moist soft lips hard to mine, and draws a heart shape on my chest. Resting my ear to her chest, I listen to her heart beat.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  I’m finally home.

  The Wedding

  The image shifts to gray as I fall into a daze, staring at the black letters and white-papered background displayed on my computer screen. Settling into my human body and the human world has taken some getting used to. I have to remind myself to eat and drink. It takes me fifteen minutes to get anywhere I want to go, so I find myself missing angel transportation. I frequently have trouble falling asleep at night, which means I often struggle to get out of bed in the morning for work, and Providence doesn’t make that any easier. She’s a night person, so we naturally tend to stay up later, but I’ve also had some restless nights, awakening drenched in sweat from nightmares.

  Most nightmares have me reaching and stretching for Providence’s hand as rain pours down, thunder shakes the ground, and I sink deeper and deeper into thick mud, moving farther and farther away from her as she screams my name. Thankfully, I always wake up lying next to her, the soft sk
in of her hands well within my reach. And I always curl my body close to hers, wrapping my arms securely around her, so I can feel safe again and fall back to sleep.

  Fortunately, I think I’m past the nightmares of lying in the hot, dry, barren desert with the sun beating down on me, blistering my tender skin. I woke always woke up from those not just sweating but bloody from the scars on my back splitting open. The scars where my wings once were are mostly healed but still very sensitive. They will always be thick, shiny black, and curved. They will never go away, another reminder of my past.

  The temptation to misbehave drove us to spend our nights apart and, on occasion, our days chaperoned. We made a pact when I came back that we would sleep together at night, but only sleep. Well, kissing and hugging is okay. There may have been some rolling around, but it was PG-rated. Honestly, it was easy initially. My body was in no shape for anything beyond that. As of late, it has been more challenging, but we have kept to our deal and survived. And now, there is only one night remaining, and Providence is staying with Taylor.

  “How are you feeling, Zan?” Lacey’s voice releases me from my trance. She is leaning against the doorway to my office.

  I smile. “Great. I’m great!”

  “Yeah! Big day tomorrow, huh?”

  “It is. Providence and I are very excited.”

  “Well I can’t wait.” She claps her hands together. “Do you have a sec? Luke asked to see you in the lobby.”

  “Certainly.”

  I leave my large desk behind and follow Lacey down the cream-colored hallway. As I round the corner, the firm’s small lobby is filled with clapping, smiling people, including Luke, Hope, and Providence. My eyes widen and I scan the faces of my coworkers. I step to Providence’s side and grasp her hip.

  “What’s this about?” I whisper in her ear before kissing her temple.

  Not telling, not telling, not telling, not telling were the only two words that scrolled through her mind.

  “What happened to no secrets?” I whisper.

  She glances up at me and smiles. “Hope picked me up ten minutes ago, so I barely know what it’s about,” she says under her breath.

  “Barely—” Luke cuts me off.

  Luke clears his throat. “I have a quick announcement. First, Zan…” Luke places his hand on my shoulder. “Congratulations on passing your exam.” He shakes my hand and pulls me into a hug.

  “Thank you,” I reply over the clapping.

  Providence clasps both of her hands around my bicep, pulling my arm against her warm body.

  “Second…” Luke continues as my coworkers move away from the walls on either side of me, revealing the glass wall that separates Luke’s firm from the other offices on the floor. “We are adding a new partner to the firm.”

  Etched into the glass in frosty lettering are the words Rivers, Abel, & Addison, LLP. I throw my free hand to my chest and gasp in surprise. Providence releases my hand and Luke hugs me.

  “I know you will keep this firm moving in the right direction when I retire in a few years. I pass it on to you, son.”

  When he says “son” I nearly tear up. Luke is the closest I have to a human father, and I still believe it was more than a dancing white dove that led me to him. And I know that I could never have come this far without his help, without great friends.

  “Now, go get married!” They all shout, slapping my shoulders.

  The past twenty four hours have been a whirlwind. Standing in my rather ridiculously large, walk-in closet, I stare at my black, pin-striped tuxedo. Aside from my bride’s beauty at the rehearsal, the image that replays in my memory is that of the empty seat at the dinner table next to her, the one that was meant for her father, the one she wasn’t able to bring herself to fill, and I wonder if her parents are still on the porch swing, sipping sweet tea.

  Two cool hands cover my eyes from behind.

  “Hey there, mister…deep thought?”

  “Thinking about you.”

  “Good thoughts, I hope.”

  “Always.” I spin to face her, resting my hands at her waist, running my thumbs over her hip bones. I love her hip bones. They may be my favorite.

  “And this is why I’m marrying you.” She smiles and rises up on her toes, brushing her lips across mine.

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to see each other?”

  “Ah! Old wives’ tale, plus I wanted to give you this.” Providence hands me a card. “Go on, open it. Wait, it is a wives’ tale isn’t it? This isn’t going to ruin our marriage, right?”

  “Definitely a wives’ tale.” I pull the thick card out of the envelope. A green leaf floats on the ivory cover and the inside reads:

  Once in a while, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.

  “Providence, thank you.” Peering down at her loving eyes I smile.

  “It’s true. You are my fairy tale, my knight in shining armor, my prince, my angel. I was in the middle of a very ordinary life, and then you showed up and you cared for me, you protected me, you loved me. You make me want to be a better person. Though this was not God’s plan for you, you have changed at least one person in this world for the better, and I will proudly stand beside you today and take your name.”

  I can’t take my eyes off her. “God, Providence, I will…I will care for you, protect you, and love you every second for the rest of my life and beyond.”

  I pull her close, tucking her head under my chin.

  “Busted! I knew I’d find you here. Couldn’t even wait two more hours.” Taylor laughs and Providence slinks her body around, hiding behind me, giggling, peeking her head out from under my arm.

  “Come on, Lily’s ready to fix your hair.” Taylor throws out her hand, grabbing Providence’s, and tugs her out of the bedroom.

  With the ceremony minutes away, I straighten my ivory-satin tie and hook the clasps of my vest together. I peek my head out of the small, brick building and watch Leo and Grant escort our coworkers and friends down the white-carpeted aisle to their small, white, wooden chairs, placed in perfect rows on the lawn. In front of the chairs, a rectangular, glossy, wood stage sits about a foot off the ground, skirted in red-velvet steps, away from the park’s overlook. Bouquets of red, orange, and yellow tulips line the stage and two, large, stone pillars, with giant bouquets of various flowers, decorate center stage. Off to the right side the harpist plays as the final guests take their seats. Behind her, the blue water in the oval pool glistens in the early evening sunlight. A slight mist floats off the fountain, cooling the otherwise warm, late July air. A visibly different Eden Park than the one I ran from several months ago, now surrounded by vibrant life, growth, and signs of a promising future.

  “Hey there, Sweet Cheeks! You about ready?” Lily asks, throwing her arm over my shoulder.

  “I am.”

  “You’re up, Zan, Leo’s waiting for you.” Grant grins and slaps me on the shoulder as he walks through the doorway.

  The scent of freshly cut grass, earth, and flowers wafts around me. Leo takes his place next to me on the white-carpeted aisle and the harpist begins our processional music.

  “I thought you weren’t walking me down the aisle,” I whisper to him, a smirk plastered on my face.

  “Takin’ one for the team, Grant got Prov, I got you. Good thing I get Lily on the way back,” Leo whispers back and winks.

  From the stage I scan the guests attending our small ceremony. The melody changes and all eyes shift to Summer as she floats down the aisle, scattering red tulip petals on the white runner. Her blond curls blow in the breeze and just before she reaches the stage, she blows me a kiss and takes a seat next to her mother in the second row. I laugh to myself as her mother smooths her red-satin dress and reminds her to cross her legs.

  Eyes widen as Lily places her silver stilettos on the white, now-petal-accented runner. Her strapless, cherry-red-satin dress falls to her knees, and it’s apparent no eyes in the crowd have missed her long, slend
er legs. Half of her long, platinum-blond hair curls away from her face, held up by a silver barrette while the rest flows over her bare shoulders. I glance at Falls, who has yet to lift his jaw, and find he doesn’t have that wrinkle of fear on his face that most boyfriends display when their girlfriend struts down the aisle at her best friend’s wedding.

  Taylor steps onto the runner, carrying her bouquet of red and rust-colored calla lilies. She wears modest silver heels and a dress that matches Lily’s. Her hair is twisted up with reddish-brown locks spiraling down her back. And, as I would have expected, a downplayed grin raises Knox’s cheek in an attempt to hide the adoration his eyes reveal. Falls elbows him in the ribs, making him laugh, fully exposing his secret.

  The trumpet sounds and the guests rise, becoming a sea of dark and khaki suits and pastel dresses. Leo pats my back and nods as Providence loops her arm through Grant’s at the end of the aisle and holds her calla lily bouquet in the other hand, formally, at her stomach.

  She’s stunning. Her long, brown hair is twisted up, exposing her bare shoulders and slender neck, a part of her I have never noticed until today. Wispy bangs frame her tanned, heart-shaped face and she glows. Her glossy pink lips spread, forming her breath-taking smile. Her ivory satin, strapless, empire-waist dress floats to the ground, covering her toes, which only peek out when Grant takes too big a step. When our eyes finally meet, she grins and bites her bottom lip, a nervous rather than sexy bite. I lose my breath. Leo places his hand on my back.

  As promised, Grant presents her on behalf of her mother and father. They have grown close since Mr. Corban died. He’s like a big brother to her now, having shouldered much of the burden she felt following her dad’s passing because I had left and because she had a hard time adjusting to Dublin, her new angel. It isn’t a one-sided relationship, though. Providence cleans the loft and does his laundry. Angels don’t need much, so she does for him what she can. I think Leo learned about the deal, though, and has been sneaking his clothes into Grant’s basket. I wouldn’t have expected anything different.