Anathema (26 page)

I amble down the hall, tugging the IV pole
like my shadow. I look down at my hand where the tube is still
taped, and as I wriggle my fingers, I feel the slow, carving ache
from having something under my skin for so long. I’m sure that once
a nurse actually takes it out, there’s going to be a bruise. It
hurts too much not to leave some kind of mark, if you want the
truth. But that’s the least of my worries.

Lev’s door is closed, so I lightly knock.

“Come in.” Evan’s voice. I turn the knob and
see Evan sitting in a vigil probably very similar to what Jimmie
has done with me. I know Evan isn’t Lev’s father, but there’s
nothing in his expression that suggests he’s anything else to
anyone who doesn’t know the whole story. There’s so much love and
sadness, which only reminds me of my own.

I step into the room. “How is he?”

Evan barely looks up. “The same,
Elizabeth.”

Crossing the room, I sit in the other chair.
“Can’t you reach him in his dreams?” I ask, noting that Evan’s
right. Everything seems disturbingly the same as the last time I
saw him.

“I’ve tried. It’s like there’s no activity in
his mind.”

He opens his mouth, probably to tell me
something crappy like I should prepare myself for the worst. Then
again, how many times has the worst found me? How can I ever get
more prepared than I already am? I wave him to silence and take a
deep breath.

“Can I have a few moments alone with
him?”

Immediately, Evan stiffens. “Elizabeth, I’m
not sure that’s such a good idea after the last time. You were so
upset….”

I nod. “I know. It’s just hard to leave him,
even when it’s time.”

After one last look at the monitor, he
finally reluctantly nods. “Okay. Just not too long.”

“All right.” I wait for him to stand and walk
out of the room before I take Lev’s hand in both of mine. Strange
that I never really looked at his fingers before. He has an
artist’s hands—long, graceful fingers which have stroked my skin so
often that if I just close my eyes and think about it, I can
recreate the sensation. I know his voice as intimately as my own,
and I’ll never be able to forget the ocean blue of his eyes. But I
guess I’m afraid that if something happens to him, all of those
things will fade like a painting left in the sun. The memory will
remain, but you can’t smell the memory of a rose no matter how
beautifully the photographer captures it. The essence is in the
living, and all those things which Lev has shared with me have been
living moments.

As I sit, I feel the stillness of the room
smothering me. I squeeze his hand. “I know you want to be here with
me, Lev, and I know this is harder than you thought it could be,
but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”

I stroke the top of his palm, waiting for his
eyes to open. I know he’s still lost somewhere in this body—I
refuse to believe otherwise—and that monitor, with its spikes and
lows, only confirms what I believe. I don’t know how long I sit
there. The clock above measures the time with the constant ticking
of the second hand, yet I’m in no hurry to leave. I don’t care how
long it takes for Lev to return. I can be patient. He waited seven
lifetimes for me. These are just moments.

The door opens, and Jimmie walks in with
Evan. Both carry Styrofoam coffee cups. Strange to think of an
angel as needing coffee; then again, Evan isn’t exactly a regular
angel, I guess. Jimmie glances at Lev and then steps over to me. He
sets his hand on my shoulder.

“How you holding up, kiddo?”

“I’m fine,” I whisper, knowing I’m probably
less fine now than I’ve ever been. It’s not about the physical.
It’s about all the other stuff. .

“Shouldn’t you get back to your bed?” Evan
asks. “You look a little tired.”

Jimmie’s already agreeing with him, trying to
pull me to my feet as if I don’t have a say in any of this. “Can’t
I stay for a few more minutes? Please? I’ve missed him.”

They look at each other like both know
nothing is going to change; I can see hope has fled their
expressions, and it hurts to look at them. But I still believe. I
have to.

“All right,” Jimmie agrees. “Evan and I will
get some breakfast, and then I’ll take you to your room, okay?” He
squeezes my arm reassuringly.

“Okay.”

Once again, they depart, and I can’t say I’m
not glad to see them go. Even if Lev is unconscious, I want time
with him alone. Maybe it doesn’t make any difference, but that
doesn’t change me wanting it.

I reach out and touch his face, my fingers
skimming his cheek and move to the hard line of his jaw. One
moment, I’m looking at his profile. Then next, I see myself in
those blue eyes that just keep blinking as though the morning light
hurts.

“Elizabeth?” he manages with his dry throat.
He licks his parched lips.

“Lev?” I, too, keep blinking, thinking I’m
seeing only what I want to see—that perhaps I’ve fallen asleep and
this is all a dream. Then he reaches for my hand.

He looks like he wants to speak, but his
throat is dry, and I reach out and grab the cup at his bedside,
gently lifting his head and putting the straw into his mouth. He
takes a few sips before releasing the straw.

“I’m glad to see you,” he whispers, trying to
smile.

“Me, too.” I lean in and kiss his
forehead.

“Where am I?”

“In the hospital.”

He blinks two or three times and frowns
slightly. “I don’t understand. Why?” His eyelids start fluttering
like he’s tired.

“It’s a long story, and right now, you need
to see the doctor.”

I start to stand and walk away when he grabs
my hand. “Please stay,” he whispers.

“I’ll be back. Always.” I kiss his cheek. He
strokes my face.

“You look like an angel,” he whispers. “And I
love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Twenty

The sun hangs low in the sky, ready to sink
beyond the horizon as we sit at the lake by our house in Tellico
Plains. The water is still, and the sky reflects itself in it like
a sherbet watercolor painting as we sit on the shore just beyond a
thick stretch of reeds and cattails.

It’s been six months since the day Lev woke
up and everything changed. It took him at least six weeks to
recover, and during that time, I never left him. Even today, as I
watch him look out over the water, I see his distant expression, as
though he’s not really here with me, not entirely.

I squeeze his hand and smile. “Everything
okay?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He wraps his arm around me,
and I lay my head against his shoulder. His heartbeat is steady and
strong—everything I’ve ever wanted in him.

“Do you regret not being an angel anymore?”
It’s a hard question because I’m afraid of the answer. What if I’ve
taken something from him that he didn’t want to let go of?

“No. I admit, there are things I miss about
it, but if I had to choose between you or that, I’d choose you all
over.” He kisses my forehead, and I feel his fingers gently stroke
my arm.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, closing my eyes and
nestling closer.

Lev pulls back enough so he can look at me.
“Whatever for?”

“This isn’t the life you planned.” I brush
the hair from my eyes.

He smiles and shakes his head. “Maybe not.
God didn’t give me the master plan, after all. But the thing is,
after losing you for seven lifetimes, this would be the only way it
could work out so we could be together, Elizabeth. There was no way
it could have worked between an angel and a human, no matter how
much we loved each other.”

A flock of geese flies over our heads,
gradually swooping low enough to until they skim into the water and
break the reflection, leaving only a rippling of orange fire in the
water. I reach out and grasp his hand.

“It’s hard to believe the first time I saw
you I thought you were dangerous.”

He smiles and looks at me with those
ocean-blue eyes. “I would have done anything for you. Anything.” He
eases himself to a standing position and gently pulls me up by my
elbow. “Let’s take a walk, Elizabeth.”

As we head toward the setting sun, I feel Lev
limp slightly, the only lingering effect of the injuries that made
him mortal. The geese swim toward us, rippling the water more, and
as I look out at the end of another day, I marvel at how perfect it
is. I savor the feel of Lev’s hand braced on the small of my back,
his fingers gently pressing my skin just above my shirt.

“Did you think it could be like this?” I lean
against him.

“I’d hoped. For the longest time I wasn’t
sure. It was like a tangled road I didn’t know how to navigate. I
just knew you were on that road, and wherever you were, that’s
where I needed to be.”

“So what happens now?” I ask, licking my
lips.

“Whatever we want to happen.”

“It’s so hard to believe.” We walk around the
lake and head toward the house, taking each step as it comes. As
usual, I notice Lev towers over me, and it makes me feel so much
stronger, knowing he is with me—so much more complete with him than
I ever could be alone.

As we reach the porch, I see the lights
glowing inside the living room as Jimmie sits in his recliner,
watching television. Lev holds the door open for me, and I slip
inside.

Jimmie looks up from the game. “Just in time
for the fun.” He waves a beer at the screen.

“I thought we were already having fun,” I
say, smiling.

“Me, too,” Lev agrees.

“There’s pizza in the kitchen,” Jimmie says.
“In case you’re hungry.”

“Yum!” I smile and take Lev’s hand to lead
him into the kitchen. “Let’s go get some food.”

“I’m following you.” We walk into the
kitchen, I open the box, and Lev pulls out a couple of slices for
each of us. I set them on paper plates and hand one to Lev, and we
sit together. It’s strange now how normal things seem; I still keep
looking for the aura of his wings. I don’t know how long I’m going
to keep looking for things I’ll never see again.

As we eat, Griffin and Celia come in. They
also take pizza, and there is something different that at first
doesn’t make sense. But then, as I watch them smile and laugh, I
know. I recognize the warmth that seems to flicker between them
because it’s the same as what I feel burning between Lev and
me.

I can tell by the way they stand, just apart
enough so they don’t give anything away, they aren’t yet ready to
reveal all to us.

I look at Lev and know that some things that
take time last forever.