CHAPTER 6

Much later, Monica had all three of the children watching a Disney movie, while she starred worriedly at all the ingredients for the recipe she had assembled on the counter. She had already read the recipe itself four times and it was doing little to dispel her concerns. The book called for several different things to be happening; onions and peppers chopped, chicken cut up and cooking in some oil on the stove and a dressing being mixed up in a bowl. There were several spices that went into the recipe, all with different measurements and Monica was not kidding herself about her cooking abilities or rather…inabilities. Then there was the matter that her human body was starting to ache a bit and she was starting to feel a little bit overwhelmed with the whole process. The last thing she wanted to do was to fail the assignment because she ruined dinner for the family.

"Oh Father, help me." She murmured worriedly, "Perhaps there is an Angel of Food you could send my way?"

"Well, I am not an Angel of Food, but perhaps I will do?"

The sound of her husband's voice caused Monica to gasp and whirl around, ignoring a few twinges of pain as Andrew smiled at her, his pleasure at being near her again written all over his face.

"I'd like to think however that I am the Angel of Monica."

"You are," She replied softly, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his chest as a sigh of relief escaped her, "I am always glad to see you but right now especially so."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with a counter full of ingredients, would it?"

"Well, I had just asked the Father for some help and I thought it might be in the way of some divine dinner appearing on the counter but you know what?" She tilted her face up to him, "This is so much better."

Andrew smiled and pressed his lips against her forehead, "I agree. Now, let's get this meal underway, Angel, so we can go home for the night."

"Home? My apartment? "A tired smile spread across her face, "Really?"

Her hopeful expression was so precious it took his breath away, "Seems I need a place to stay for the duration of this assignment…that is, if you'll have me."

"I don't foresee that as being a problem, my love," She smiled happily, before she glanced at the clock, "Oh, we need to hurry and get this started. They'll be home soon."

Her limp as she moved from his arms was incredibly subtle but easily spotted by one who knew every single tiny thing about her and had committed it to memory.

"Monica? What's the matter? Are you hurt?" His protective instincts were immediately on high alert as he stepped in front of her and laid his hands on her small shoulders.

"No, well, yes, but it isn't anything serious. Aiden was teaching me roller blading today."

"Sit," He ordered sternly, ignoring her tiny sigh of defeat. As she sank into a kitchen chair, Andrew knelt down in front of her, frowning at the angry cut on her right knee and the apparent bruising that was beginning to come out on both her legs. Raising an eyebrow, he looked up at her, "Angel, I thought roller blading was done standing on two feet."

His tone was both playful and concerned and Monica rolled her eyes slightly, "Yes, well, it takes a wee bit of time to get the hang of it, Andrew, but I think by the end of the summer I could be quite good at it."

"There are many things you are good at that don't require medical attention," Andrew remarked.

"It's a scratch and you are much too protective," Her gentle argument was completely softened by the tenderness in her voice.

"It's deep and you didn't get all the gravel out of it," He countered, "and it is obvious we are going to need some help here."

Before Monica could blink, dinner was simmering on the stove and her angelic husband had first aide materials on the table. She managed not to flinch as he cleaned the gravel from her knee and then put some antibiotic ointment on it before bandaging it.

"I'm thinking no more roller blading for a few days, Angel and only then with knee pads?" His tone was so hopeful it made her giggle.

Laying a hand against his cheek, she caressed his skin lovingly, "For you, Andrew, anything."

It was only later, once they were walking hand in hand to their temporary home that Monica got the chance to ask him how things had gone at the agency and she noticed immediately how his face took on a determined expression.

"We are working on the case," She didn't have to ask which case he was referring to, "Sadly there are really no leads. Shawn McKinley was taken right from his bed by his abductor in the middle of the night. Whoever it was left behind no finger prints or even shoe marks outside the window, which leaves them hoping that if there is a next time, he will leave something behind."

She could tell by his tone he was praying there would not be a next time but that in his heart he knew there would be, but she added her prayers to his just the same, "We both know that if the Father has placed you there that it is a direct answer to your prayer. He would not assign you some place where you were not needed."

"We have to find the next child, Angel, before he….before he or she has to be taken Home. I'm not sure I can bear any other outcome. He has to pay for what he has done."

Monica stopped walking and turned to face him, "My dearest Andrew," She said softly as she took his hands up into her own, "Don't let such blackness enter into your own heart. I know how much it hurts you to be witness to such terrible crimes, but it is God's judgment, not that of an angel, that he must face. Your job is to stop him, to hopefully save the next child, but not to make this person pay for what he has done." She saw the shame that shimmered in his green eyes and she despised it. Laying a hand against his chest, she continued gently, "It is the tenderness in your sweet heart that I first loved about you. Please…don't allow this man to change it."

Drawing her into his arms, right there in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, he held her tightly, "I'm sorry, Angel."

"You have no need to be sorry and I know how much this assignment pains you. I feel it in you every time we are together and I wish for nothing more than to take it from you. But the Father is still in control of all of this, even the things most terrible, He can take and make something good come from it. You know that."

"I do. And if ever I forget, I have my own sweet angel to remind me."

"Isn't it wonderful how perfectly God planned that for us?"

Her smiling voice finally caused him to smile as he pulled away enough to kiss her tenderly, "Yes, and I will never stop thanking him for this part of his very perfect plan."