“Right.”
“What will happen to you?”
A range of emotions crossed his face—ebullience, fear, longing. He lowered himself to the ground and sat atop the fresh snow, not leaving an indent. “That, I don’t know.”
No one would ever know the angels had been there, and if Flora died without reaching the Gates, she too would soon forget Elizabeth. But if they did make it to Heaven, would she forget Peter, her mentor, her advisor, her friend?
The divine plan certainly came with a fair number of what-ifs. And what did Elizabeth want in the end?
All at once, everything felt less certain, but somehow so much more real.
Part X
Elizabeth came back into the tiny clinic waiting room and found Flora just as she’d left her, staring vacantly into space, her face an unreadable mask. She wasn’t certain whether it was better to say something or give her charge more time to come to terms with her approaching death.
So she waited and thought over all that Peter had revealed in the wintery abyss. “Make things right,” he’d said. “This might be it. She could make it. You could make it together.”
She remained unconvinced, for Flora had lived a life filled with service and sacrifice. Didn’t that mean she’d become a Protector, too? And, if it did, what would happen to Elizabeth?
“No, that won’t happen,” Peter had said flatly when she voiced her concerns.
“But think about it, if she—”
“It doesn’t work like that,” he snapped. Peter never snapped.
He turned away from her and seemed to shiver despite not being able to feel the cold.
“Just go to her. Help her resolve any unfinished business. Greet the end when it comes, and then we’ll see what’s what.”
“Elizabeth?” the meek voice that called to her didn’t belong to Peter.
Flora had finally decided it was time to talk.
“Yes, darling?” The moment had arrived. It was time to speak of Flora’s life in the past tense, to make conjectures about what happened next, to urge her to make things right—as if anything were actually wrong. Would they go to Heaven together? Would they take on a new, more solitary set of lives? Would Flora become a Pearl and Elizabeth dissolve into nothingness?
So much rested on what happened next.
“We should go. They probably need this room for another patient.”
The mundane pragmatism of that statement startled Elizabeth. Where was the earth-shattering epiphany? Where was the reflection, the emotion? Surely, Flora had to be feeling something as she prepared to meet death head on.
“Go where?”
“It’s too late to finish our loop today, so back to the shelter. We can start fresh tomorrow.”
“Back to… the shelter? What about the hospital? What about chemo, or at least a comfortable bed to sleep in?”
Flora let out a sad chuckle. “No. Why should I change things just because I’m going to die? I like my life, and I plan to live the days I have left.”
“But, Flora, you’re sick! You’re weak! You need—”
“I need to do this my way, Elizabeth. You know I love you, but this is something that I need to handle, and in a way that makes sense to me.”
Elizabeth wouldn’t make any ground this way, not with Flora being as stubborn as ever when it came to making even the slightest change in her routine.
Suddenly, an idea.
“Are you sure the shelter will be comfortable enough, though? Maybe we should consider going home.”
Elizabeth paused, her spine straightened, and she spoke so softly Elizabeth almost couldn’t hear her.
“Home.”
“Yes, wouldn’t it be nice to check in on your mother and brothers before…?” She let the implication linger as she watched Flora carefully for any signs of giving in.
“I haven’t been there since Mama threw me out of Pop’s funeral. Was that fifteen years ago? No.” She began to walk again, faster now. “Home is the shelter. That’s where I belong.”
“But don’t you want to say goodbye?”
“I want to be happy, Elizabeth. Don’t you understand? Why would I want to go back there and be faced with my very worst memories in life? Why would I want to be reminded of how I failed as a daughter, and of how she failed me as a mother? No good can come of it, I promise you that.”
“Maybe it still can. You could forgive her. Imagine how good it would feel to leave this life with no regrets.”
Flora rounded her shoulders and focused her gaze straight ahead.
“No.”
Well, now what was Elizabeth supposed to do?
* * *
Elizabeth needed to speak with Peter to get his advice when it came to managing Floramaria’s unwillingness to visit—and forgive—her mother. But the other angel was strangely absent for the weeks that followed.
Elizabeth tried her best to convince Flora to set things right, but the more she brought up the topic, the more Flora began to shut her out. She was so weak these days that they couldn’t even do one full loop of the city, let alone multiple rounds. Now they only walked a half dozen blocks from the shelter and spent the entire day seated at a fountain Flora had a particular fondness for.
They watched together as the water burst into the air then rained back into the shallow pool below. Pennies glinted just beneath the surface, wishes that still had the potential to come true. But what about Elizabeth’s wish? What about her desire to cross through the Gates with her dear charge, to no longer face the constant uncertainty of life after life, failure after failure?
“Are you the Homeless Prophet?” A girl who appeared to be in her twenties came up to them.
Flora opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to find the effort too tiring. Instead, she nodded slightly and smiled wanly. She was weak, dying, and sitting out in the sun all day certainly didn’t do her ailing body any favors.
“We’ve been studying you in sociology class. Could I… if it’s not too much to ask, maybe have your autograph?” She rummaged in her pack and brought out an old style composition journal.
This, Elizabeth realized, was her last chance to do as Peter had told her. If Flora wouldn’t go to her mother, perhaps Elizabeth could bring her mother here. Flora wouldn’t listen to her suggestions, but could she fight off Elizabeth’s dodge in her weakened state?
Flora gripped the pen the student handed her, and Elizabeth reached for it too by moving through Flora’s fingers. She felt her charge relax into her, completely unaware of the betrayal Elizabeth had planned.
“It’s for your own good,” she whispered as she made a series of loopy letters in the notebook. By the time Flora realized what the angel had done, it was too late.
Please tell my mother I need to see her before I die. Have her meet me here tomorrow at the fountain. Her name is Anita, and she lives at 555 Sandy Springs Drive.
The girl’s lips moved and she read over the note, then she flapped the journal closed and fixed a smile on poor, meek Floramaria.
“Yes, I will. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
* * *
Flora was angry with Elizabeth, but she was also a creature of habit. As planned, she awoke early and took the walk into town to wait by the fountain. Her feet dragged beneath her, and she had to take several breaks during the short trek, but she made it.
When they arrived, Anita was already waiting. She remained seated on a nearby bench and watched as Floramaria took the final steps to reach the fountain. She did not smile, but she also didn’t look away. She just waited, as if she too needed this to happen.
She helped Flora to sit once she had reached the lip of the fountain, and even handed her a pair of pennies. It was a long time before either of them spoke, and, while Elizabeth was glad Anita had finally made an effort when it came to her daughter, she was also furious. How could this woman so carelessly and deliberately throw away the one thing Elizabeth gave her life to protect?
But this meeting
wasn’t about Elizabeth’s anger; it was about Flora’s—about making things right.
Finally, Anita cleared her throat and spoke, although she stared at the pennies she’d placed into Flora’s palm rather than making eye contact. The words that came out were obviously rehearsed.
“If I had a wish to make, it would be that I hadn’t let my fear come between us. But I have been following the stories about you in the paper and on the news, and I’m proud of the woman you’ve become. I like to think that maybe I had a small part in that.” She smiled wistfully. “So actually I won’t apologize, and I won’t make a wish today, but I thought maybe you could borrow mine. That way you have two if you need them.”
Flora nodded sadly. “I forgave you a long time ago, but I only just realized that now.”
“Well… I won’t intrude on your day any longer.” Anita pinched her mouth into a tight line, then rose to her feet.
“Wait,” Flora called before Anita could make it more than a few paces. She struggled to her feet with raspy, labored breaths.
Elizabeth marveled at how such a simple motion—one so easily taken for granted in the day to day—had become such a struggle, almost as if she’d somehow forgotten how.
At last, Flora closed the small distance between herself and the mother who hadn’t wanted her. Tears threatened to spill, the first since they’d received the doctor’s diagnosis.
Anita remained stuck in place, a monument to everything Elizabeth had never wanted to be, all she had worked so hard to mitigate for her charge.
“We won’t see each other again,” Flora whispered into the older woman’s ear. “And I just thought it might be nice to say goodbye with a hug.”
Anita stiffened but allowed Flora to wrap her arms around her.
And then Flora smiled, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped toward the ground, giving Anita no choice but to strengthen her grip, to speak.
“Floramaria, Floramaria! Somebody help!” she cried.
But even before the familiar white expanse began to overtake the urban cityscape, Elizabeth knew that Flora had passed on. Perhaps for good this time.
* * *
Once again, the unyielding wall of white surrounded her like an embrace, absorbed her, became her. Nothing existed except for the vast blankness. She drifted through it, a mere ripple in the endless ocean. She had returned, but this time she was not alone.
As she drew near the spectacular gates for the third time, she spied a figure standing outside them.
Waiting.
For her.
And, there, just outside of the beautiful city made of sunrise, she came face to face with her charge for the first time ever. The girl who greeted her was both Daisy and Floramaria, the daughter she had lost and the best friend she had confided in. She had become Elizabeth’s whole world, though the two had never formally met—not like this.
“Elizabeth,” her daughter choked. “You’re here.”
She ran toward Elizabeth, for the burden of her illness had lifted, and wrapped the angel into a huge hug. So much the opposite of the one that had just taken place on Earth, this embrace held all the longing, all the love, all the moments that had passed between them.
“I love you,” Elizabeth sobbed, and the tears spilled across her cheeks in rivulets. All at once, she realized that something major had changed. Not just having her girl here with her in the flesh, but having flesh.
Flora’s arms around her generated warmth, her skin smelled of berries. Elizabeth had not known that before this. But now all her senses came flooding back into focus, which meant…
“We made it. Flora, we’re here!”
The girl, who had not yet been to this place, smiled as she looked up at the two soaring gates that rose so high neither of them could see to the tops.
“Is this Heaven?”
“Heaven is just beyond those gates.”
Peter materialized beside them. Did that mean he was safe from whatever came next? Would he get to go through with them?
She forced her eyes away from Flora and looked at Peter who was wearing an impossibly large grin, having taken a form he had not used before. His sandy hair and crisp green eyes framed the most handsome face she had ever laid eyes upon. For she had seen this man, many lifetimes ago.
“Mary, my love,” he cried. “Do you know me?”
She nodded, too moved to speak. She did know him. Intimately. He had been her husband, her love, her soulmate, apparently—because now they were here together just outside Heaven’s Gates.
And then he was at her side, picking her up and swinging her around in perfect, blissful circles. “I’ve waited almost two hundred years for this moment to come, but I knew it would. I knew it. So many times I wanted to… But none of that matters, you’re here. We’re here.”
She kissed him to show him that she, too, remembered their life together, his sacrifice that had let her live on while he… “You were always with me. This whole time.”
“Do you remember our wedding? It was 1826, Massachusetts. You wore your mother’s lace gown, and I had one of those top hats that were so stylish at the time. We promised forever, in sickness and in health. But we were also bound in life and in death, it seems. I have loved you for so many lifetimes. And now we are reunited at last, standing together once more as we look out upon forever. I’m so happy I feel as if I could burst.”
And, in that moment, Elizabeth wasn’t sure whom she loved more—the one she had protected or the one who had protected her. Luckily, they had come to a place of infinite love. They just had to walk through those Gates.
She reached out to Peter at her left and Flora at her right and clasped hands with each of them. Together, they all took the first step into the eternity they had journeyed so far to find.
Heaven.
The Extended Ending
So Elizabeth and crew went to Heaven, good stuff. But I know what you’re thinking. You’re wondering what happened to that charming fellow, Daniel (that’s me), and probably also about what happened to Theo, Tina, Victor, Anita, and basically everyone else.
Am I right?
Well, allow me to fill you in. Yeah, I know you probably got used to Elizabeth telling this story, but here’s the deal… You don’t hear from people once they pass through the Gates. You’ll see her again once you become a Pearl, but until then you’ll just have to trust me that everyone over there is doing swell.
As for me, I have a pretty major decision to make. You see, Theo kind of did that whole die-in-sacrifice thing, which is great for him and definitely great for the one he died to save. But as for me? I’m kind of stuck.
Yeah, Peter chose to stick around and become his protector’s protector, given the whole soulmate thing he had going on with Elizabeth.
Gross…
I guess it helps if I tell you that I first knew Theo as Rebecca, my little sister. I saved her from drowning, but—oops—drowned myself in the process. Well, when your charge becomes a protector herself, most angels step aside and move on. Clearly, Peter was a special case, and that’s fine. I get it. For him. Not really an option for me, though.
Which means I have two choices left.
Behind Door A: Paradise. That’s right, I can cross through the Gates now and live an eternity of perfect bliss. But bliss seems kind of boring. I want adventure!
Which means I’m probably going to open Door B and take a promotion. Did you know there are multiple levels of angelhood? Back in the day they were called choirs, but now we just call them the ranks.
Guardians—protectors and wardens both—are the lowest rank. Above them, you’ve got the seraphim and cherubs, all the way up to archangels. But I’ve got my eye on one post in particular. Rumor has it the Angel of Death gig may soon have an opening, and—boy—does that sound like fun! If things go down the way I think they will, I should have that job in no time…
Until then, I guess I’ll wait and see. Maybe tell a few more stories of my own. But which story? Aww,
nuts, another decision.
Hey, maybe you can help me with this one.
I could tell you all about Theo and Tina and the paths that led them to each other. It’s kind of a fun love story, because there are three super important people in it: Theo and Tina, of course, but also Elizabeth. Oh, and Daisy, too!
Or I could tell you about that jerk, Victor, and all about his comeuppance. You think the Maker was just going to let him off the hook for killing his girlfriend? Yeah, right! He got saddled with a warden angel for that one, and—oh—she is going to make him pay in this life, and the next, and the next…
My personal favorite story, though? All the crazy things that are happening with the current Angel of Death and a certain woman who’s caught his eye. Yeah, somehow it always comes back to love around here. Maybe one day I’ll even find it for myself, but until then I can’t wait to take my next adventure.
So tell me which story you want to hear by casting your vote at www.MelStorm.com/decide. Until I find out more about this possible job opening, I guess I can settle for being a muse. Later, gators!
Peter’s Story
I first spotted Mary standing across the church courtyard, talking very seriously with Father McGovern. Her brow furrowed and she nodded intently as he spoke, then almost all at once a huge smile broke out across her face, transforming it entirely. I watched, enraptured, as her cheeks crinkled in merriment, her chest rose and fell with laughter, and her eyes shone.
Although I stood still, my innards were all but dancing. For that was the exact moment I knew I’d make Mary my wife.
And sure as the day is long, I did make Mary my wife. A few short months later, summer was in full swing and we took our nuptials inside the big city church with high ceilings and polished pews. She blushed beneath her veil as she took my hand and promised to love me forever. I, in turn, pledged my undying love and support, then lifted the thin draping of lace from her cheek and pressed a mostly chaste kiss to her lips.
Diving for Pearls: The Complete Collection (The Pearl Makers) Page 9
