Falling for Heaven (Four Winds) (16 page)

             
He clasped her hand in his, and held it tightly.  “Think about it, Heather.  I’ve been doing this for so long now…”

             
She looked at his hand, holding hers, then up at him.  Her gaze sent a shiver of awareness through him.  “Why me, Uri?”

             
He thought a moment before speaking, staring intently at her green eyes, practically glowing at him in anger.  “Because you bring light to my darkness.”  Then, without knowing what he was doing, or why he was doing it, he kissed her.             

             
The sensation of Heather’s pliant, warm lips brought an unanticipated growl from the back of Uri’s throat.  Of their own volition, his arms went around her, and he held her close, feeling the soft curves of her as he molded her body to his.

             
Heather squeaked in protest, but he was unwilling to let her go so quickly, feeling the need to take as much of the experience as he could.  Her mouth opened to his in acceptance, and the taste of her tongue excited him, immensely.

             
He had kissed women before, but it had been another one of those things that he did for appearance’s sake.  It was nothing like this.

             
Uri’s tongue mimicked her motions, dancing in and out of each other’s mouths.  Her hands came around his neck, and she pulled him closer, trailing a hand down his back.  He could smell her all over him, reminding him again of the purity and freshness of flying inside a cloud after a spring rain.  He tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her into his body, needing to feel her everywhere.  Uri had never known desire quite like this before, and in his heart, he knew it was too late.  He had fallen.  If not completely, then he would soon.  He had lied to Heather.  He couldn't stop this.  He didn't even want to.

             
In his burning desire, Uri didn't notice the white-hot heat that he’d become accustomed to in Heather’s presence, as it grew into a flame.  It spread throughout his body, until a familiar sensation swept over Uri.  He took a step back, reluctantly breaking the kiss before he changed.

             
He saw the look on Heather’s face as it changed from wonder to fear and knew what she saw.  He looked down at himself.

             
He was glowing, a pure white incandescence.  His clothing was gone, and had been replaced with a magnificent set of wings, made from sparkly white feathers that glowed with the same white incandescence of his body.

             
“Heather…”  He reached out to her, regretting that he’d let go of her in the first place.

             
Heather took a step backward, then another.  She finally said, “I’m sorry, Uri.  I’m not the right one.” 

             
And she turned and ran, shattering everything inside of him.

Chapter 19

              Heather didn’t answer her phone for days.  Uri had even texted her, which she had to pretend to herself wasn’t endearing. 

             
Heather, please.  Answer your phone.  Talk to me.  I don’t understand what is happening.  Please.

             
She cried.  What was happening, was that a perfect being was sacrificing
everything
to be with her.  A stripper.  A sinner.  She couldn’t understand it.  Why would he throw away his immortality, his status as one of God’s elite, to be with her?  And why didn't she have a choice in the matter?  It was as if God had decided Uri would fall for her, and nothing she said had any bearing on it.  Did her feelings not matter?  What if she didn't want him to fall for her?  Because she didn't.  She wasn't good enough for him.

             
She remembered the image of him in his true, angelic form, and her heart filled with despair.  His body, his heavenly body, had glowed with a celestial brilliance, that made her tremble with the memory.  His enormous wings had spread almost as tall as the trees, as if they reached toward heaven itself.

             
She wasn't sure if it was purposeful, or if Uri had let things get out of control, but no human could look upon beauty like that and not be affected somehow.

             
He had said the process had started already.  Did that mean he loved her?  Was it too late?  Had he already lost his angelic self?  Had she ruined him?

             
Heather choked back a sob, and she turned off her phone without replying to his text message.

              On Monday, she went to visit her mother, who was in a fabulously lucid mood.

             
“Hello dear.  Where’s your friend?”  Her mother was dressed in an actual pair of jeans today, not a nightgown.  And her hair was not only combed, it was washed and styled as well.

             
“He couldn’t make it today, Mom.”  Heather wasn’t about to explain to her looney-tunes mother that an angel was risking eternity to spend a couple of decades with her.

             
“That’s a pity.  You two will make some beautiful grandbabies for me.”  Sharon smiled wistfully.

             
“Mom.”  Heather rolled her eyes, almost glad that her mother was ribbing her.

             
“It’s true, have you seen him?  Hubba hubba.”

             
“Mom!  It’s not like that.  I…broke up with him.”  Simplify, simplify, simplify.

             
“Tsk.  That’s a pity.”

             
“He doesn’t like what I do for a living.”  Her mother had been surprisingly open-minded when Heather had begun dancing to help pay for college.  She had been afraid to fess up, but in the end decided to be honest about where her money came from, lest her mother assume the worst.

             
“Did I ever tell you I used to paint?”  Sharon reached for Heather’s hand.  Heather enjoyed the friendly touch from her mother more than she realized.  It had been so long since her mother had knowingly shown affection to her.

             
“Um…no.”  Actually, she had last week, but Heather was feeling agreeable and didn’t want her mother angry because she couldn’t remember a conversation.

             
“Well, I was pretty good.  But your father didn’t like for me to paint when I had Bryan.  When he was a baby, he kept getting into my supplies, and your father said that I was taking crucial parenting time away from Bryan.  I hated him for it.”

             
“So, you wish you had kept up with your painting?”

             
“I’m not sure now.  I know that at the time, I resented the fool out of him for insisting that I stop, but in retrospect, I can’t imagine what I painted that would have been more important than my children.”

             
“What if your painting had been your only source of income and your family was dependent on you for it?”

             
“I honestly don’t know.  I’m not sure if I made the right choice or not, but I do wish I had fought him on it.  I would have enjoyed having something just for myself.  It's something you need to talk to him about.  There may be a compromise you guys can come up with.”  Her eyes looked over Heather’s shoulder.  “Have you seen Bryan?  I think he’s stopping by for a visit today.”

              After an utterly confusing visit with her mother, Heather went to the rehab facility to check on Tiffany.  She had gotten a voicemail that her sister was clean; she just needed to stay the mandatory six weeks to go through the program and the counseling.  But she was free to receive visitors.

             
“You look like hell, Heather.”  Her sister greeted her from behind greasy hair, but at least she was wearing clean clothes.  They were sitting on a concrete bench in the courtyard.  There was the sense of being outside, yet they were still surrounded by four walls covered with dying ivy.

             
“So do you.  How are you feeling?”

             
“Like shit.  Where’s your boyfriend?”

             
“Not my boyfriend, and I don’t know.”

             
“That’s a shame.  He was cute.”

             
“You sound like Mom now.”

             
Tiffany laughed, and it was such a foreign sound to Heather’s ears.  It sounded rough, guttural, and delightful and brought back long-forgotten memories.  She smiled at her sister, for the first time in years.

             
Tiffany nudged Heather with her leg.  “So what happened?  He already have a girlfriend?”

             
“No, he just is too…perfect.  I’m not the right girl for him.”

             
“Heather, look at yourself.  You support your deadbeat sister and your delusional mother…”

             
“By stripping.  And he doesn’t like it.”

             
“So, do something else.”

             
“Like what?  I don’t have any education, Tiff.  It’s not that easy.”

             
“What are you good at?”

             
“Dancing.  That’s all.”

             
“So, give dance lessons.”

             
Heather looked at her sister as if she’d just grown a second head.

             
“I mean it.  You could give pole dancing lessons in my apartment; it’s the perfect neighborhood.”

             
Heather had to admit, some parts of the idea had merit, but she was pretty sure that Tiffany’s apartment was not the perfect location.

             
“I’ll think about it.”  Trying to change the subject, she asked, “So, all clean?  You ready to finish the program?”

             
“Yeah.  The counselors all seem pretty cool, and they say I’m through the worst of it, so…”

             
“So you just have to keep on keepin’ on?”

             
“Don’t lose him Heather.”

             
“What?”

             
“He seems special.  Don’t lose him.”

Chapter 20

              Heather left the club, slinging her purse over her shoulder.  After giving Robbie a quick peck on the cheek, she began her walk home.  As usual, she handed Sam about fifteen dollars, wishing him luck on his races. 

             
She had befriended Sam about five years ago and knew that he liked to play the races.  Only the horse races were entirely in his imagination.  He used to gamble on them, and Heather suspected that he’d made himself homeless from the habit, but he was a nice man otherwise.  She had sat with him, while he relived a race once, and it had been eye-opening for her, listening to his impassioned play by play of the event, as if he were actually there.

             
“Have fun at the races, Sam.”  She said to his inert form, before continuing home. 

             
As had become usual, Heather's thoughts turned to Uri to occupy her time on the walk home.  As much as she tried to put him out of her mind, he was an ever-present entity, stalking her consciousness.  It had been almost a week since they'd had the picnic, and she had tried in the last few days to simply forget he ever existed, thinking that would be easier than harping on what could have been.  But his memory wouldn't dissipate, and she caught herself remembering the feel of her hand in his, the comfort that he brought her.  His embrace had carried her to a warm serenity that she hadn't felt since her family was whole.  He made her feel as if everything could be okay again.  And she missed him.

             
Her mother's and her sister's words echoed in her head.  Could they be right?  Of course, they didn't know about Uri, and neither one of them were in their right mind.  Although when she had spoken to them, her mother had been lucid, and her sister had been clean…But their minds were still damaged, weren't they?  Did they really understand what they were talking about?

             
Heather wanted them to be right.  She wanted nothing more than to be with Uri, but she couldn't bring herself to let him make the sacrifice for her.  He was so perfect, in every sense of the word, and she was so…not perfect.

             
Almost stopping in her steps, Heather realized that both her mother and her sister had improved vastly since Uri had come into her life.  Was there a connection?  Could his presence be causing them to improve?  He had said he didn't have any healing powers, but they were both better in her eyes.  Although, maybe Uri being here was just helping her deal with things better.

             
She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't immediately hear the footsteps behind her, until they were close.  She increased her pace, trying not to panic.  Typically, this time of the morning, she was alone.  Even the bad guys had gone to bed by now.  The footsteps increased pace with hers, and she felt her heart rate increase.  In the three years that she’d been living in her apartment, she had never felt threatened on the way home from work.  In fact, when she'd first started living where she lived now, she'd had to fight with Mama for the privilege of walking home.  Mama had wanted somebody to give Heather a ride for safety's sake, but she had insisted she would be okay.  Tonight, though, she felt the crackle of danger in the air.