All she could bring herself to say was, “I’m sorry.”
Maria nodded and turned her haunted eyes toward the falling water of the fountain.
“Where was your mother all that time, Maria?”
“Lori,” Maria said, gazing off into the distance. “Lori was there, tending to the boys and the house. She was a dutiful wife.”
“Not a dutiful mother to you!” Julia felt her anger rising. “Ignoring the problem is just as bad as doing it herself.”
Maria kept looking out over the manicured lawns of the facility. Her voice seemed to shrink, like the voice of the little girl in the closet. “It’s not Lori’s fault. She couldn’t see. That’s what girls are for, they say.”
“They? Who are they?”
“Our family. All the way back. It’s a longstanding tradition, you know.” She ran a hand through her hair. “That’s why I called the police when you were born. To give you a new family. With new traditions.”
“You called them.” The truth of that sacrifice hit Julia’s core. Her eyes welled up with tears. She decided not to tell Maria that her adoptive father had been Maria’s own brother. Same family. Similar traditions.
I’ll spare you that, Julia thought.
“Thank you, Maria. That must have been so difficult.”
The sound of the waterfalls filled their ears as a silence fell between the two women. Julia felt she should say something more, but couldn’t imagine what. When it came to her, she leaned forward, gently taking Maria’s hand in her own. “You are a good mother, Maria. I never knew how lucky I was.”
Maria only nodded.
“Are you safe here?” Julia asked.
A sly smile touched Maria’s lips as her eyes darted around once again. “I am very well looked after here, Ser…Julia. Some of them think I really am married to Gabriel, you know. They think, if they treat me really well, they’ll get a better deal. You know. In the end.”
Julia couldn’t help but laugh despite all she had just learned. She was surprised to feel a bit of a kinship with this woman she still couldn’t think of as her mother.
Julia found it funny that it was easier for her to accept Gabriel as her father than this woman as her mother. Maybe this kind of crazy was genetic.
“Maria, what else do you know about them?” Julia didn’t say “the angels,” but somehow she knew Maria would know exactly who she was talking about.
“Everything. Nothing. They are what they are. I do know one thing, though, Julia.”
“What’s that?”
Maria’s eyes flicked up over Julia’s shoulder, then back to her eyes. “You can hear them, if you pay attention. And…”
Julia sighed, seeing the now-familiar glaze cover her mother’s eyes. Within a few seconds, she heard the sound of John’s approach.
“Cookies!” Maria spoke to the air. “Grandma made the best cookies! We could never figure out how, even when we followed the recipe.”
John stood in front of Julia. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Visiting hours are over.”
Julia stood, smoothing her slacks and straightening her jacket. She looked at Maria, wishing she had just a little more time, and caught a glint of awareness in her returned glance.
“Cookies!” Maria echoed herself, as John led her down the path back to the building.
Julia did her best to look disappointed with the way the visit had turned out, and walked back down the long hallway, acutely aware of the loud clicking of her heels on the spotless marble floor. John escorted Maria to her room and Julia stood outside the door as it clicked shut, her mind swimming. As John walked away, Julia replayed the sights and sounds of Maria in her mind, evaluating and re-evaluating every word, every touch. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Maria had been trying to tell her something in that last moment of rambling.
A hard thud sounded to Julia’s left, and she turned to face it. She found herself looking through a small, square window into the room across the hall. A man standing on the other side of the door was staring straight at her. His hands and face were pressed flat against the six-inch thick Plexiglas window. When Julia realized she could see his essence radiating from him, she stepped closer to the door for a better look.
He stepped back from the door, and when she saw the wings protruding from his back, she caught her breath.
Who…?
The man wore a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and though she felt the same peaceful air that seemed to accompany the angels, there was something slightly off about this one. Devious. He took another step back and sat on the bed. As Julia watched, the spirit of the angel came out of the man, and just for a second before he evaporated, she caught his profile. His crooked nose and skin the color of almonds resembled a politician from Calcutta whose name she could never remember, though the angel was not quite as charismatic. It vanished, leaving the hollow shell of a human sitting on the edge of the hospital bed with a steady stream of drool dripping off his chin, and leaving Julia feeling much like that patient looked.
She wondered if the angel had seemed off because of the body it had inhabited, or if there was something more. Michael would know, she decided, and resolved to mention it later. Julia heard the click of the door latch turning behind her and averted her eyes. She didn’t understand what she had just seen, but she wasn’t about to share it with John the orderly.
She continued toward the reception area, the sound of John’s footsteps behind her. She forced herself not to look back. It was enough to make a person crazy, having just seen what she had seen, and feeling like everyone in the building must have known she saw something. Something “normal” people wouldn’t have seen.
Julia pressed the buzzer on the intercom and looked up into the camera over the door so the receptionist could see it was her. In the few seconds it took to get buzzed through, her heart pounded. Part of her was sure they’d heard every word between Maria and her, and seen everything she’d seen, and were now going to lock her up, too. Part of her thought maybe they should.
She let out a sigh of relief when the lock clicked. She pushed the door open and strode over to the desk. The receptionist looked up over the rims of her glasses and greeted Julia with a genuine, sympathetic smile.
“It’s never easy the first time, honey,” Suzanne said, sliding the sign-in book towards her.
Julia nodded, plucking a pen out of her purse to fill in the appropriate line. When she was done, she closed her purse and straightened. “Suzanne?”
“Yes, dear?”
Julia smiled, but fidgeted with the straps of her purse. She wanted to appear vulnerable, not calculating. “Does anybody ever visit her? My mother?”
The receptionist leaned forward, lowering her voice. “It’s against policy, but I’ll tell you anyway. Since she’s your mother and all.”
A grateful smile touched Julia’s lips, though her eyes were still creased with sadness.
“No, you are the first visitor she has had for the fifteen years I have worked here.”
“Who pays the bills, then?” Julia dropped her voice.
“I’m not sure.” She glanced up at the camera that was suspended from the ceiling and raised her voice. “I’m sorry your first visit with your mother didn’t go so well.”
As Suzanne spoke, she casually rolled her chair back and swiveled it to face the filing cabinet. She leafed through a few files, closed the drawer, and then spun back around, a triumphant gleam in her eyes.
“It really went much as I expected,” Julia lied.
Suzanne pushed a stack of papers back toward Julia. “Fill these out, in triplicate, and I will be able to send you that information you requested, Ms. Samson.”
I should have known, Julia groaned inwardly as she scooped the papers up. “Thank you, Suzanne, you have been wonderful.”
“My pleasure, hon.” There was a glint in Suzanne’s eye as she looked from Julia to the papers. “Will you be returning soon?”
“I’m not sure. Thank you again.�
� Julia headed for the doors.
Julia’s head buzzed as she climbed into her rental car and set the papers on the passenger seat. She focused on driving back to her hotel.
Having just witnessed the vision of Maria’s father’s demise, Michael arched an eyebrow, his eyes cold and intent on watching Gabriel.
“It seemed…fair.” Gabriel had no other defense.
“When did we ever worry about fair?” Uriel interrupted. “Our only concern is balance.”
Gabriel lifted his wings, ruffled them, and settled them back in place, turning to face Uriel. Only the movement of his wings betrayed his anger. His voice was cold and even. “Within balance there can be fairness.”
“You had no place to step in and kill him, Gabriel. You crossed the line with that one!” Uriel’s voice boomed. Somewhere on Earth, there was a thunderstorm wreaking havoc.
“Judgment is not yours, Uriel. Not for them, and not amongst ourselves,” Michael said. “Before you criticize, I suggest you find out the purpose of our actions. That man was to die that day. We needed the girl in one piece—physically. Had he lived, she would not have survived the night.”
“Then why do you look at Gabriel with disapproval? You two always have your own agenda.” Uriel’s eyes moved from Michael to Gabriel and back. “I suggest you let me in on what’s going on.”
Michael’s voice grew hard. “When did you become the lead, Uriel? Save your suspicions for those more deserving. We do not report to you. More importantly, I do not report to you. Are you so bored that you need to spy on me? I would be happy to arrange some extra duties for you.”
Uriel tossed out his wings as he glowered at Michael. With a flamboyant flap, he disappeared.
“He tries my patience,” Michael said. “Ever since I chose Zachariah to father the other Children.”
“He’s had opportunities to do the same,” Gabriel answered. “Perhaps that he feels the failure of Otho de Lagery is why you didn’t choose him again.”
Michael pondered this. Otho became the pope that led the first Crusade in a holy war that cost millions of lives and more than two centuries of battle and suffering.
“His view is skewed,” Michael scoffed. “I have never held one of us accountable for the actions of any of the Children. Perhaps he thinks that the fathering of the Children would give him more sway.”
“The desire to be a Creator is what drove Lucifer to disobey. Perhaps he feels the same pull.” Gabriel shrugged. “Regardless, Uriel’s ambition is not an immediate problem.”
Michael shook his head, turning back to Gabriel, who had shifted his focus back to Julia and her mother.
“That scene was not meant for her eyes,” Gabriel said, “but…”
“He deserved all that he received from you,” Michael said, clenching his teeth. “And all that he received afterward.”
Gabriel turned to face Michael, surprised by the fury of his voice. Neither spoke for several moments. Michael faded away, the sound of his voice lingering.
“I suppose allowing the girl to witness that did no harm. It probably even gave her strength.”
Gabriel returned his attention to Julia, just in time to see her climbing into her car.
“Be safe, Child,” he whispered into the wind.
XXI
COOKIES? Really? She couldn’t have meant anything by that, Julia pondered, stepping into her suite at the hotel. She tipped the bellhop and shut the door behind him when he left.
Julia leaned her suitcase against the wall and set her purse on the mahogany double dresser in front of the beveled mirror. The room Isabel had booked for her was nothing like the motels she was used to staying in. The room was furnished with Victorian-era antiques, including the lamps on either side of the bed. She suppressed the urge to move one, just to make sure it wasn’t nailed down.
The burgundy velvet drapes pulled back easily, and Julia gazed out at the city through the sheers. She wasn’t familiar with Dallas, and all the buildings looked just like every other cityscape she’d seen on television. She took off her heels and walked over to the bed, flopping unceremoniously onto the white down duvet.
“Ahhhh!”
After lying there for a few minutes with her arms stretched out to the side, she sat back up and began massaging her feet. Out of habit, she closed her eyes and envisioned herself perched on the boulder in the middle of her pond. Instead of sitting cross-legged and facing out to the water as she always had, though, she looked to the shore, hoping to see Alex there as he had been only a few days ago.
She was alone. And she felt more alone than she had for a long time. She wished he were here to share her meeting with her mother, to confide in him all the confusing emotions she felt. Her heart ached for him. Julia forced her eyes open and brushed a stray tear from her cheek.
“I guess I won’t be going there for peace anytime soon,” she said. She reached for the remote and turned the television on, flicking through until she found a news station. The date was on the lower left-hand corner of the screen, and it made her wince. One year ago, to the day, she had tried to take her own life. She smiled wryly at the irony of spending the anniversary of that day with the woman who had given her life.
“And how does that make you feel?” Michael’s voice split her reverie.
Julia snapped her head around to face the towering Archangel who had suddenly appeared by the window.
“Michael,” she said, catching her breath. If he had been anyone else, she would have admonished him for not knocking. “How does what make me feel? Are you my therapist now?”
“Meeting your mother after all this time. Witnessing. How does it make you feel?” He glanced out the window and then back to Julia.
“Witnessing?” Julia countered. She wasn’t sure what Michael was talking about—Gabriel murdering her grandfather, or the angel visiting the man across the hall from Maria. “I haven’t really had time to process it.”
Michael nodded, moved to one of the armchairs, and sat, draping his wings over the back. His dark eyes held Julia’s, and she knew he was waiting for her to answer. He might as well have said, “So? Process it, then.”
Julia had closed off the confusing mixture of feelings surrounding her birth mother. Deep inside her was a feeling of loss, of incompletion. She suspected every adoptee felt that on some level. She wanted to hate Gabriel for having been there for Maria, but never for her. But she also wanted to love him for saving Maria. Julia wanted to love Maria, too, but found the most she could muster was a quiet gratitude for giving her life. And pity.
She met Michael’s dark eyes, expecting to see the usual mirth, but only saw a heavy sadness. All thoughts of Maria and Gabriel fell away.
“Why are you sad, Michael?”
Though his face cleared of any discernible emotion, his wings raised and settled as though he were startled by her question.
“We do our best, girl,” Michael said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “That is all we have ever done.”
Julia tipped her head to one side. Was that an apology? It didn’t matter; it wasn’t Michael from whom she wanted the apology. For that matter, she figured it wouldn’t do any good coming from Gabriel. He likely didn’t think he had anything for which to apologize.
“I need to get some air,” Julia said, shutting down her budding anger.
Sliding off the edge of the bed, she slipped her shoes back on, slung her purse over her shoulder, and headed out the door.
Julia walked along, trying to focus on the windows of the boutiques she passed in Dallas’s downtown shopping district. She was suddenly having a difficult time looking at people. Before, her ability to see the essence of people had come and gone—and rarely. However, she was steadily seeing more energy than physical forms, and she wondered if meeting Maria was the cause. The dizzyingly bright moving light of people’s cores swirled around them. It was overwhelming.
Julia averted her eyes and found herself looking into a store window. She was thrilled to
discover that, by looking at reflections, she could see physical beings only. So she made her way down the sidewalk, watching the reflection of life instead of the real thing. The problem, however, was that her depth perception was skewed through the windows. Seeing two-dimensionally caused many near misses as she wove down the crowded sidewalk. She felt like she was being jostled from one person to the next—like a kid on the first day at a new school.
Between buildings there were no windows, so she looked at her feet. She was only able to see her physical self, so it was easier on her eyes. It was a question she had intended to ask Michael, why she could only see her physical self. The wind was knocked out of her as she plowed into a man.
“Sorry!”
“Watch where you’re going, lady!” the man called after her, shaking his fist in the air.
There must be some way to control this and shut it off!
She looked through a shop window at a sales clerk inside, and again found herself squinting against the brightness of his inner being. Only the reflection, then, could protect her vision, not looking through the window.
Well, she thought. It will have to do.
Ahead she saw three more ladies’ fashion shops, a magazine shop, and a handbag and accessory store, and carefully picked her way through the people. She looked back over her shoulder at her hotel and decided to forge ahead. If this was something she needed to learn, she wanted to learn it. She spied a small café just up the street.
If nothing else, Julia thought, I can sit and read and enjoy some coffee. Forget the gift. And I just won’t look at anyone.
She continued on toward the café, narrowly avoiding running into a couple of kids. They were laughing as they ran past her.
Children are so much brighter than adults, she noticed.
Julia caught the reflection of a young woman pushing a carriage and she felt a sharp pang in her chest. Alex had wanted children.
She couldn’t resist the natural urge to turn and see the baby, and her thoughts of Alex stopped cold when she caught her first glimpse of it. In the reflection, it had appeared to be a normal child, watching her step past. When she looked straight at him, she could see his brilliant light, and the wings extending from his shoulder blade area. And he was staring straight at her.
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