CHAPTER 17

The silence prevailed for a few moments, before Andrew took the plunge to break it, "I should have talked to you."

"I should have asked. You even tried to explain it a little to me last week after our…disagreement. I knew then you hadn’t worked it out and still I barely touched the subject with you." She looked down at the table, feeling too ashamed to look at him, "You’ve been watching me like a hawk for over a year and I just left you to deal with things on your own."

So thankful that she was once again speaking to him, he reached over and cupped her chin in his hand, gently raising her head so their eyes met. "Angel, something tells me that if I had ever gone to you to discuss how I felt, you would not have left me to deal with things on my own."

Monica blinked back tears, though she was unable to control the tremble in her voice, "I’m not feeling like a very good friend right now."

"Sweetheart…"

"No, it’s true. I’m the one who kept getting into trouble and the people I get into trouble with were the ones who made you angry. You are there for me every single time I need you, without question, but the one time you need help with something…"

He watched as a tear trailed down her face and didn’t hesitate another moment in pulling her close, "Monica, all of those situations were beyond your control. You know that."

She pulled away from him and shook her head, "No. This is exactly what I didn’t want to have happen. This is why I pulled away from you today. Once again, you are comforting me."

"Monica, I can’t change who I am and taking care of you is part of who I am. While I know that God does just fine on His own, it is still something I do and do gladly. Paul and I took an unofficial oath, remember?" Not seeing the smile he had been going for, he sighed and changed tactics, "Don’t expect me to sit here and do nothing while you tell me that you are not a good friend and are treating your assignments like they were errors on your part. You changed lives, angel. Paul, David, Kristin, now Faith. Where would Paul be right now spiritually if it had not been for McArthur? Had your paths not crossed he would still be separated from God, full of anger and hatred because of Lauren’s death. But now, none of those things are true. Do you consider that a mistake?"

She shook her head, "No," Came the whispered reply.

"No, of course not. Had you not come along in one of your perceived ‘mistakes’, Kristin would possibly be a single mother, while her baby’s father sat in prison. And more recently, Faith would still be alone in the woods, trying to stay hidden from her abusive father. Even if it was not the road that the Father had planned, He makes good come out of anything and He does that by His grace and in these assignments, with help from His Irish angel, who speaks the truth more beautifully than any angel I’ve ever encountered." His voice softened as he gazed into her teary eyes. "The fact that I didn’t come to you with my problem was my fault, and truth be told, you were the one who helped me to keep my anger intact for so long. Even this morning, Angel, had you not been there…it could have been much worse."

"Were it not for me, it never would have happened in the first place," She was reluctant to release the guilt. Though she knew no one was perfect other than God, Andrew came close to it for her and she couldn’t begin to fathom him doing something of this nature by his own admission. It was actually easier for her to admit that she had been the cause of it then to face the fact that he had been the one responsible for hitting the man.

He sensed what she was feeling and he was unable to help but smile, "Angel, you are not responsible for my wrong doings. The Father forgave me, as there was nothing He needed to forgive you for. I know it was certainly not something you would ever have expected from me. I didn’t expect it either, but it happened just the same and I am sorry. My actions not only hurt the Father, but you as well and that is something I never want to do. Your opinion of me matters more than you know and to think that I have jeopardized that-."

Monica was already shaking her head, "You haven’t!" She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, "You never could."

Andrew held her in his arms and let out a breath he felt as if he had been holding in forever, "Thank you, sweetheart. It means a lot to me to know that I haven’t damaged our relationship with my behavior."

"No. But you need to talk to me, Andrew. You need to talk to me when you feel this way," Her voice was uncharacteristically stern as she pulled away, not missing the slightly amused look in his eyes at her tone, "Tess was right. I am quite capable of listening."

"Yes, you are, angel," He grinned, tweaking her nose playfully, before he looked a bit more serious, "And I won’t forget that again. I promise."

*****

By the time dinner was ready and Tess had returned from bathing Faith, things seemed very much back to normal between the two younger angels, much to everyone’s relief. Faith was much more chipper at dinner and was surprisingly talkative. The angels had all come to realize that the child was amazingly bright, not to mention perceptive, when she did chose to speak freely and she had been keeping them entertained with stories of the things she liked to do best.

"Did you have a lot of babies?" Monica asked her with a smile as Faith had been chattering away about the many dolls she had to take care of that her mother had bought her.

Faith nodded, but then her smile faded slightly, "Well, I did once."

"Once? What happened to them?" Tess frowned slightly, completely prepared to hear a story about her father taking them away from her and not returning them.

"They died." She replied simply as she went back to scooping her dessert of ice cream from her bowl.

Andrew’s eyes widened slightly. This was certainly not a topic he would have expected from an eight year old, "How did they die, sweetheart?"

"My daddy killed them," She whispered, looking up at him. Her little voice was subdued as she continued, "I had to bury them outside so no one would know."

Monica exchanged a little glance with Andrew, "Did they die when you were living with your daddy?"

"Yes." She looked up at Tess and grinned, showing her the empty bowl, "May I please have a little more, Tess? Please?"

"You like ice cream, do you?" The older angel chuckled as she got up from the table and headed to the kitchen with the empty bowl, "I’ll be back in a jiffy."

Though still upset over the things Faith had said, Monica decided to take advantage of the fact that the child was feeling so open this evening, "What else did you used to do with your mother, Faith? Did she ever take you swimming?"

She shook her head, "I can’t swim. I tried once, but I drowned."

Andrew suppressed a small smile, having the feeling that not only did Faith not really know the meaning of the word "drowned" but that she also had an overactive imagination, "Did your mom save you?"

Another shake of her head, "No, it was after I ran away from the man in the woods. I wanted to hide in the lake, but it swallowed me up."

"How did you get out?" Monica pressed gently. Her heart was beating rapidly as she could barely fathom how terrified the little girl must have been in the water. She wasn’t so fond of it herself.

Faith shrugged her shoulders, "I don’t remember."

"Chocolate ice cream, as promised," Tess announced as she came back out of the kitchen and set the bowl down in front of Faith.

"Thank you, Tess," She grinned up at the angel before she happily went back to spooning the treat out of the bowl. Sometime in the last week, the little girl had finally stopped asking Monica if she was allowed to eat, much to the angel’s relief. They all could not help but wonder if there had been times when she had been living with her father that the answer had been "no" and it was not a thought any of them wanted to entertain.

Monica settled back in her chair, her dark eyes still lingering on the child. The things she had said were disturbing and she silently offered up a prayer of thanks that not only had she not drowned, but also that at least for now, Faith had a home.

*****

Faith and Monica stood at the bathroom sink brushing their teeth and looking like mother and daughter in their matching nightgowns. Faith swished water around in her mouth, puffing her cheeks out and making Monica laugh so hard she nearly spit toothpaste on the mirror. Faith gave her a sly look and then demurely spit the water into the sink and stood back, looking as innocent as possible while the angel shot her a mock annoyed look that turned into another laugh.

They were about to leave the room when Faith stopped her and motioned for her to bend down. Monica did so, her expression curious.

"Monica," Faith said with a touch of hesitation, "d’you think that maybe Andrew could tuck me in tonight? I think he thinks I’m afraid of him, but I’m not."

Somehow the little girl had caught on to the exaggerated care Andrew had taken not to upset her. He had been a little bit worried that Faith might be slightly mistrustful, and he had been even more gentle than usual all day, not even raising his voice to call her down for dinner.

Monica grinned and kissed the top of her head. "That sounds like a lovely idea. I’m sure he’ll be very pleased."

Faith smiled and flung open the bathroom door, tiny feet pounding down the hallway and down the stairs to find the other angel.

"Andrew! Andrew!" she called as she ran into the living room and straight to his side. She pulled herself together and said, much more calmly, "Would you tuck me in tonight?"

Andrew felt his heart melt as he looked into her trusting green eyes. "Of course I’ll tuck you in," he said with a broad smile.

Monica couldn’t hide her own happiness as she listened from the top of the stairs. Faith had known exactly what Andrew needed in order to feel better. In some ways the child almost seemed older than they were, and that was extremely old indeed!

Faith climbed into bed, and Andrew smoothed out the covers and settled the soft brown teddy bear beside her. She looked like a little angel lying there with her blonde hair spread across the pillow, and although he kept his smile firmly in place, inside he was shaking his head. He could barely imagine raising his voice to the girl, and the idea of someone hurting her on purpose was practically unthinkable.

"Okay, now where is that little baby of yours? What was her name again?"

"Samantha Marie," Faith said with a little girl’s exasperation. She twisted her body and reached under her pillow, then pulled the doll out, bonnet slightly askew but thumb still firmly in mouth.

Andrew chuckled. "Now what on earth was little Samantha doing way under there?"

Faith shrugged and pursed her lips together. "Hiding?"

"Well I don’t think she has anything to hide from around here," Andrew said lightly as he tucked the doll in right next to Faith. He noticed that Faith didn’t look entirely convinced. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, not exactly sure what she was thinking, just knowing that she was definitely thinking something.

She shrugged again, and then seemed to reconsider as she saw the kindness and understanding in Andrew’s eyes. "He said if I made him mad again he’d bury me out in the backyard with the dolls," she said quietly. "But he forgot one of them. I hid her under my pillow and he never found her. Was I a bad mommy ‘cause I was glad he only hurt them? My mama never let him hit me when she was around."

Andrew felt sick to his stomach but he stroked Faith’s hand comfortingly. "No, Faith, you were a wonderful mommy, and someday you’ll be an even better one." He kissed her on the cheek and then straightened the doll’s bonnet. "And little Samantha here doesn’t need to hide in this cottage, and that’s a promise."

Faith reached up and pulled him back down again and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "G’night, Andrew. I love you."

He closed his eyes for a moment and then stood up and cleared his throat. "I love you too, Faith. Sweet dreams."

He was still marveling at the little girl’s capacity for love as he walked down the stairs and into the living room. It reminded him of a certain angel he knew. "She’s all tucked in and waiting for you, Monica," he said as he sat down beside her on the sofa.

Tucking Faith in was one thing, but it had quickly become apparent that the only one who could actually lull her to sleep was Monica. She would go upstairs and talk or sing to her and twenty minutes later the little girl would be dreaming. She smiled as she patted Andrew’s hand.

"All right. I’ll be back in a few minutes," she said, and then mounted the stairs to fulfill the nightly routine.

*****

"Monica?"

"Yes?" the angel asked as she rocked her gently. Faith was quiet for a minute and Monica looked down into her worried little face. "What is it Faith? You can ask me whatever you want."

Faith tilted her head back to meet Monica’s gaze. "Do you still have my sweater?" She asked quickly and then turned her head and looked down at the doll in her arms. "You said you wouldn’t throw it out, but if you did, that’s okay."

Monica silently rose from the bed and Faith sat up as she watched the angel leave the room. She was only gone for a minute and when she returned she was holding the sweater in her arms.

"I’m afraid the two buttons I sewed on don’t quite match," she said as she offered it to the child.

The sweater looked much better than it had, but it was still a bit worn in places despite Monica’s best efforts to repair it. However, none of that seemed to matter to Faith who latched onto it and hugged it tightly.

"Mama gave me this on my first day of second grade," she said as she looked at Monica thankfully.

The angel scooted back onto the bed and opened her arms again, waiting until Faith was settled before she spoke again. "I guess talking about her tonight made you think about it," she said sadly.

"Uh-huh." There was silence for a minute and then Faith spoke again. "Daddy wouldn’t let me wear it after she died, but I snuck it to Sunday school on Easter. Don’t you think pink is a good Easter color?"

"It’s a wonderful Easter color, sweetheart."