that they have Spanish angels who look and speak just like us.”
“But if no one really knows, then how are you so sure?”
“Ah,” she said, sweeping him up into her arms, her familiar oatmeal cookie smell falling like a blanket of comfort over him. “My smart boy. There has to be Spanish angels. When we die we all become angels. Tia Maria is an angel. She is watching over us even now and she most certainly is a Spanish angel.”
That made him smile. He remembered his aunt. It made him happy to know she was an angel.
“Okay, Mama,” he said, hugging her around her neck as hard as he could. “But I don’t want you to be an angel too soon.”
“Oh
mijo
, don’t worry about that. I’ll be here for a very long time.”
Leo couldn’t have stopped the soft smile touching his lips even if he’d tried. That was from a time when he had been innocent and when he’d thought his mother knew everything there was to know about anything.
Regretfully, neither had lasted past his teenaged years, his mother included.
Leo shook off the tumult of emotions this creature had sent washing through him with just a few sentences.
“Isn’t that a little redundant?” he heard himself asking with a sneer in his tone.
Shut up, Leo. Shut up!
he argued with himself. “An angel named Faith?”
“No different, I imagine, than a man being named Dick,” she said dryly.
He heard everyone in the room release a startled joint laugh, most of it through tight throats full of tears and tragic emotion. Then once they started laughing, they couldn’t seem to stop. Well, hell. If bearing the brunt of her set downs eased the suffocating tension of fear and anxiety, he was willing to take it on the chin. And he didn’t blame them for their laughter. He’d been out of line and Faith had set him back on his ass. Deservedly so. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t find his footing in this ever-changing dynamic he called his life. It was probably a good thing that she refused to let him get away with it.
As he watched her placid expression, however, he could swear her lips curled ever so slightly at the corners. She was taking pride in her ability to deflect his raging bullshit.
And so she should,
he thought. There was nothing Leo appreciated more than a smart-ass.
He couldn’t help himself. It made him smile as well. That made twice now in as many minutes. If he kept this up he’d be guffawing any day now. He liked a good guffaw. It’d be a damn shame if he couldn’t find it in himself to guffaw ever again.
Then, as he watched, those beautiful electric wings of hers protracted. It was such a graceful sweep of glowing blue lines of energy, flowing directly toward him. He didn’t step back like the others did in order to give them the breadth they needed for full extension. He should have. After everything he’d been through, he ought to have avoided letting them touch him as if she were a carrier of the bubonic plague. But there was a part of him that was eaten up with curiosity. Were they just light? Would they bump up against him or pass right through him?
Because he didn’t move, they swept against him and then, before he could react with any belated protective reflexes, they passed right through his chest and body.
His first instinct should’ve been to be horrified and appalled at the intrusion, but it never came to fruition. Even though it ought to have been deemed no different than Chatha’s brutal incursions into his body, all possible hostile feelings died a stunning death when breathtaking heat and energy bled into him, quickly followed by a sensation of peace and well-being. It was a feeling he had thought he would never again know in his lifetime, a peace that stole through him literally from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet and toes.
But it wasn’t just well-being he felt. There was something else…something more visceral…something very much like what he had felt the very first time a girl had ever
“But if no one really knows, then how are you so sure?”
“Ah,” she said, sweeping him up into her arms, her familiar oatmeal cookie smell falling like a blanket of comfort over him. “My smart boy. There has to be Spanish angels. When we die we all become angels. Tia Maria is an angel. She is watching over us even now and she most certainly is a Spanish angel.”
That made him smile. He remembered his aunt. It made him happy to know she was an angel.
“Okay, Mama,” he said, hugging her around her neck as hard as he could. “But I don’t want you to be an angel too soon.”
“Oh
mijo
, don’t worry about that. I’ll be here for a very long time.”
Leo couldn’t have stopped the soft smile touching his lips even if he’d tried. That was from a time when he had been innocent and when he’d thought his mother knew everything there was to know about anything.
Regretfully, neither had lasted past his teenaged years, his mother included.
Leo shook off the tumult of emotions this creature had sent washing through him with just a few sentences.
“Isn’t that a little redundant?” he heard himself asking with a sneer in his tone.
Shut up, Leo. Shut up!
he argued with himself. “An angel named Faith?”
“No different, I imagine, than a man being named Dick,” she said dryly.
He heard everyone in the room release a startled joint laugh, most of it through tight throats full of tears and tragic emotion. Then once they started laughing, they couldn’t seem to stop. Well, hell. If bearing the brunt of her set downs eased the suffocating tension of fear and anxiety, he was willing to take it on the chin. And he didn’t blame them for their laughter. He’d been out of line and Faith had set him back on his ass. Deservedly so. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t find his footing in this ever-changing dynamic he called his life. It was probably a good thing that she refused to let him get away with it.
As he watched her placid expression, however, he could swear her lips curled ever so slightly at the corners. She was taking pride in her ability to deflect his raging bullshit.
And so she should,
he thought. There was nothing Leo appreciated more than a smart-ass.
He couldn’t help himself. It made him smile as well. That made twice now in as many minutes. If he kept this up he’d be guffawing any day now. He liked a good guffaw. It’d be a damn shame if he couldn’t find it in himself to guffaw ever again.
Then, as he watched, those beautiful electric wings of hers protracted. It was such a graceful sweep of glowing blue lines of energy, flowing directly toward him. He didn’t step back like the others did in order to give them the breadth they needed for full extension. He should have. After everything he’d been through, he ought to have avoided letting them touch him as if she were a carrier of the bubonic plague. But there was a part of him that was eaten up with curiosity. Were they just light? Would they bump up against him or pass right through him?
Because he didn’t move, they swept against him and then, before he could react with any belated protective reflexes, they passed right through his chest and body.
His first instinct should’ve been to be horrified and appalled at the intrusion, but it never came to fruition. Even though it ought to have been deemed no different than Chatha’s brutal incursions into his body, all possible hostile feelings died a stunning death when breathtaking heat and energy bled into him, quickly followed by a sensation of peace and well-being. It was a feeling he had thought he would never again know in his lifetime, a peace that stole through him literally from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet and toes.
But it wasn’t just well-being he felt. There was something else…something more visceral…something very much like what he had felt the very first time a girl had ever
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