the freckles and a scar. I wondered how he got a scar. Was it already on the body he chose?
Like distressed jeans are already worn and broken in.
“Came with the body,” he said, in my head again. “Up there—” He looked over instead of up.
Then he shrugged. “It’s really all around us, not really up.”
“Oh,” I said. “That makes my head hurt a bit.”
“Anyway, I could see your soul.”
“As dark and gnarled as it is?” I joked, feeling conspicuous and naked at the moment for some odd reason.
Alex stopped and pulled me in to a shockingly tender hug. “It’s bright and shining like a ball of light,” he informed me with great tenderness. My heart hurt a little at how gently he was treating my fucked-up emotions. “But with the smallest gray and navy blue striations. Sadness. I was intrigued by you. That’s something special. We tend to be a bit…flat? Like we view you all as equals instead of special and unique.”
“Wow,” I said. More because I really believed him about the whole angel thing than anything else.
“Yes, a lot of my fellow angels really see snowflakes as more unique than humans.”
“What makes you different?” I asked.
Molly had stopped in front of a small red cottage similar in shape to mine. She sat on the low stone wall to wait for us. He kissed me quickly. “You. You made me different. Now do your job.”
I gaped at him, unsure of what he meant but feeling a gushy, uncomfortable slide of girlish feelings for this possibly mental man. “Um…”
“Go on, help Molly. There’s plenty of time for us.”
“Okay. No pressure there,” I said and followed Molly.
Chapter Three
“Mr. King?” I asked.
Molly’s father looked past her, at me and then at Alex who smiled that heartbreaker smile and gave a respectful nod that men somehow always manage to pull off. “Yes?”
He looked open but confused.
“We’re here about your daughter Molly.”
His face went taut with the look of grief that never quite fades, even with time.
“What about her?”
He didn’t invite us in but he did open the door a bit more and stand more securely in his doorway.
“I’m here with…” This was the tricky part. If the recipient was a believer I could just out myself and pass on the message. If the person had a very definitive set of rules for the universe and the communication between the dead and the living, well, then things were trickier.
“Yes?” He only sounded a tiny bit annoyed, to his credit.
“I’m here with a message from your daughter,” I said swiftly.
He looked hopeful, angry, happy, livid. It all flashed across his face in an instant.
Like watching an oil slick drift across clean water. Ugly and beautiful all at once. In one instant it is a marring effect, in the next you see a gorgeous rainbow.
“Who is it, Ed?” This was Mrs. King. A tall, lanky woman in her late sixties to early seventies .
“Someone about Molly.” He faced me like we were about to fight and her face did a caving in thing that broke my heart. Their grief was still very fresh over the loss of their daughter.
I turned to Molly. She said, “The best way to address it is to just bully through.
That’s how my dad is. Just tell him to stop blaming Johnny for my death.”
I sucked in a breath and said to Alex, “Jeez. I don’t know if I want to do this.”
He came up and nodded again to the dad. He put his hand on my waist and said softly in my ear.
“You don’t have to, you know. Free will and all.”
Molly said nothing, simply waited. And so did her father who couldn’t see his own daughter. I blew out a sigh. “Look if you need some help or something—” Ed King started but I shook my head.
“No, no help. I’m just here to pass on a message from your daughter.”
Molly’s mother sucked in a great wounded breath that broke my heart. “Listen, lady—”
I barreled on fast before he could shut me down, or worse, shut the
Like distressed jeans are already worn and broken in.
“Came with the body,” he said, in my head again. “Up there—” He looked over instead of up.
Then he shrugged. “It’s really all around us, not really up.”
“Oh,” I said. “That makes my head hurt a bit.”
“Anyway, I could see your soul.”
“As dark and gnarled as it is?” I joked, feeling conspicuous and naked at the moment for some odd reason.
Alex stopped and pulled me in to a shockingly tender hug. “It’s bright and shining like a ball of light,” he informed me with great tenderness. My heart hurt a little at how gently he was treating my fucked-up emotions. “But with the smallest gray and navy blue striations. Sadness. I was intrigued by you. That’s something special. We tend to be a bit…flat? Like we view you all as equals instead of special and unique.”
“Wow,” I said. More because I really believed him about the whole angel thing than anything else.
“Yes, a lot of my fellow angels really see snowflakes as more unique than humans.”
“What makes you different?” I asked.
Molly had stopped in front of a small red cottage similar in shape to mine. She sat on the low stone wall to wait for us. He kissed me quickly. “You. You made me different. Now do your job.”
I gaped at him, unsure of what he meant but feeling a gushy, uncomfortable slide of girlish feelings for this possibly mental man. “Um…”
“Go on, help Molly. There’s plenty of time for us.”
“Okay. No pressure there,” I said and followed Molly.
Chapter Three
“Mr. King?” I asked.
Molly’s father looked past her, at me and then at Alex who smiled that heartbreaker smile and gave a respectful nod that men somehow always manage to pull off. “Yes?”
He looked open but confused.
“We’re here about your daughter Molly.”
His face went taut with the look of grief that never quite fades, even with time.
“What about her?”
He didn’t invite us in but he did open the door a bit more and stand more securely in his doorway.
“I’m here with…” This was the tricky part. If the recipient was a believer I could just out myself and pass on the message. If the person had a very definitive set of rules for the universe and the communication between the dead and the living, well, then things were trickier.
“Yes?” He only sounded a tiny bit annoyed, to his credit.
“I’m here with a message from your daughter,” I said swiftly.
He looked hopeful, angry, happy, livid. It all flashed across his face in an instant.
Like watching an oil slick drift across clean water. Ugly and beautiful all at once. In one instant it is a marring effect, in the next you see a gorgeous rainbow.
“Who is it, Ed?” This was Mrs. King. A tall, lanky woman in her late sixties to early seventies .
“Someone about Molly.” He faced me like we were about to fight and her face did a caving in thing that broke my heart. Their grief was still very fresh over the loss of their daughter.
I turned to Molly. She said, “The best way to address it is to just bully through.
That’s how my dad is. Just tell him to stop blaming Johnny for my death.”
I sucked in a breath and said to Alex, “Jeez. I don’t know if I want to do this.”
He came up and nodded again to the dad. He put his hand on my waist and said softly in my ear.
“You don’t have to, you know. Free will and all.”
Molly said nothing, simply waited. And so did her father who couldn’t see his own daughter. I blew out a sigh. “Look if you need some help or something—” Ed King started but I shook my head.
“No, no help. I’m just here to pass on a message from your daughter.”
Molly’s mother sucked in a great wounded breath that broke my heart. “Listen, lady—”
I barreled on fast before he could shut me down, or worse, shut the
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