CHAPTER 21

My greatest gift

The weekend was very low key and Monica was never farther than an arm's length from Andrew. She snuggled next to him on the sofa, helped him fix meals and at night nestled into bed next to him, unwilling to leave him alone in his grief.

Andrew appreciated it more than he could ever put into words.

And Sunday night when Mark and his wife stopped over to share in the grieving, the little angel sat at his side, her hand resting on his leg, always touching him in some way, a silent reminder that she was there with him all the time and that she understood.

When their guests left, Andrew closed the front door and enveloped his beloved angel into his arms, holding her tightly in silence for a moment. Though still very much grieving, his heart was also filled with such fierce love for Monica and the way she had so gently and quietly cared for him all weekend. Every moment she seemed to have known what he needed just before he realized it himself.

"I love you so much, my beautiful little soul mate," Andrew murmured quietly, "Monica, everything you've done this weekend...baby, just thank you."

Tilting her head up to gaze at him, her dark eyes took on an incredulous expression, "Andrew, it is no more than you do for me anytime I need it. You don't have to thank me. You're my partner, soon to be my husband. There is nothing I would not do for you because I love you. All the times you have allowed me to lean on you when things are not right in my world...it is a privilege for me to finally be able to return the gesture."

His tired green eyes drank in every feature of her face as his fingertips brushed against her cheeks, "There are no words to describe the things I feel for you this moment, Angel. But I don't have to lean on you because it is your love that holds me up and allows me to stand tall every single day."

Monica's tearful smile was cut off when Andrew kissed her lovingly, pulling her body closer to him as she relaxed in his arms until the kiss ended. He pulled back just a fraction to look deeply into her eyes, "How are you doing, baby?"

"I'm fine, Andrew. Just worried about you," her hand reached up stroke his cheek, "I'm going to the funeral with you on Tuesday. I'll get a substitute lined up tomorrow. What hours are you working tomorrow?"

"Till midnight, then our station is closing on Tuesday morning to honor Jeff."

"I didn't realize Jeff's parents lived so close until Mark told us," Monica mused aloud, her eyes sparking sadness, "I can only imagine..." Her voice trailed off, seeing the ever present grief in Andrew's eyes, "It's late," she whispered, reaching for his hand, "and you look so tired, Andrew."

Thirty minutes later as Monica lay in his arms listening to his heart beating and feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

xxxxx

She had thought it all through though she still said a tiny prayer for guidance as Monica assembled the ingredients she would need for lasagne on the counter after work on Monday. It was the one recipe that she had helped Andrew make numerous times, not counting the day she had burnt it to a crisp and then helped Andrew re-make it.

Determined, she measured out the ingredients with absolute precision and didn't risk setting the oven a fraction higher than the recipe called for. When she had successfully finished, the angel felt a little bit like a proud parent; now she could make sandwiches and lasagne.

Once it had cooled a bit, Monica covered the casserole dish with foil and placed in a little carrier she and Andrew had purchased months ago for potlucks they both occasionally had at work for special occasions. Then armed with the address she had looked up in the phone book earlier, she headed back out of the apartment to catch a bus to the other side of the city. Once upon a time such a journey would have frightened her, but her innate need to do something to hopefully help Andrew squelched any fear and she was only slightly nervous when an hour later, she rang the doorbell as she stood on the front porch of Jeff's parent's home.

The older woman who opened the door looked weary and her face was full of pain. For a split second Monica was wondering about the wisdom of her decision to visit, but now that she was here, she plunged on ahead.

"Hello, Mrs Davis. I want to first tell you how deeply sorry I am about your son. My fiancé worked with Jeff at the station. My name-."

"Is Monica," Jill Davis smiled slightly as she ushered Monica inside, not missing the auburn haired female's perplexed expression, "My son spoke very highly of Andrew and of his Irish fiancée, Monica."

A relieved smile crossed the angel's face, "We were very fond of Jeff as well, Mrs. Davis..."

"Jill, please Monica."

Monica nodded her head, "I made you and your family a wee bit of dinner. I don't imagine you feel very much like cooking."

"You're a sweet girl, Monica. My Jeff said you were," Jill took the casserole dish and led Monica to the kitchen, "I just made coffee. Would you care for a cup?"

"Please."

As Jill poured the coffee, Monica eyes scanned the kitchen taking in a framed Footprints poem on the wall and several other plaques containing Biblical verses and her heart gave a lurch of hope, "How are you doing?" She asked her host as Jill set the two cups of coffee down at the table and indicated for Monica to sit down.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. I still can't believe he's gone though we always knew the risk was there, but Jeff loved fire fighting. He wanted to be a fireman from the time he was just a little boy. He loved what he did and he loved the men he had the privilege to work with, especially Andrew and Mark."

"The three of them were very close," Monica stated softly, thinking of the terrible sadness that had been in Andrew's eyes all weekend, "Andrew has taken Jeff's death very hard...enough so that I've been worried about him."

The older woman, despite her loss had a feeling Monica was seeking something but she didn't know how to ask what she needed to ask, "Monica, tell me how I can help."

The little angel looked up, startled, "Oh no. I should be asking you that question!"

Jill smiled kindly as she laid a hand over Monica's, "Honey, Jeff is in heaven now, and he doesn't need anything, but Andrew is very much here and struggling..." She stopped speaking as she watched tears well up in Monica's dark eyes.

"Jeff...he believed in God?"

Jill, though puzzled by the younger woman's tearful reaction, smiled, "He was brought up believing and then as most young adults do, he wandered away from the Lord for several years. He got into a little trouble and several bad relationships, but then he grew closer to Mark and then Andrew moved here and they became friends as well. Three months ago, my son went to church with us for the first time in five years. It was an answer to my prayers."

A tiny sob escaped the little angel's throat as she covered her mouth with her hand to hold the relieved sobs at bay. Jill waited patiently until Monica could explain, "Andrew...he didn't know where Jeff stood with God. They never talked about it and he was absolutely devastated that he didn't know. He's felt so guilty..."

Handing Monica a box of tissues, Jill shook her head, "Not only was Jeff good with God, honey, but your Andrew was part of the reason he was. They may have never talked about it, but my son knew you two and Mark and his wife had something special and he knew that God was a part of each of your relationships. He told me as much."

Monica closed her eyes for a moment, "I don't know how to thank you for telling me this. You'll meet Andrew tomorrow at the funeral..."

"Then I will make sure I tell him exactly what I just told you."

xxxxx

After the funeral service the next morning, which had been heart wrenching, everyone gathered downstairs in the fellowship hall where the church members had prepared a luncheon. The room was soon filled with friends and family exchanging stories about Jeff's life as child, a young adult and a fire fighter. There were both tears and laughter among the dozens of people and for a few minutes, Monica lost track of Andrew as she stood talking with Mark and his wife, Amber.

Her dark eyes scanned the room worriedly, remembering Andrew's barely restrained emotions during the service, and she finally saw him standing over in a corner with Jill. She watched as the twosome looked over at her once or twice and then several minutes later, she watched as Andrew hugged Jill before he turned in her direction, his eyes beckoning to her.

"Excuse me," Monica smiled at Mark and Amber before she crossed the room to join Andrew, but when she approached him he didn't say a word, but instead took her hand tightly into his own as he led her from the room and into the deserted hallway.

Her eyes were questioning for a moment before he cupped her face in his strong hands and she was able to see the tears in his eyes.

"I love you so much," Andrew whispered fiercely to her, "Just so much. Thank you, Angel, for finding out..."

"I had to know...I had to find out for you. Andrew, I couldn't bear the guilt you were feeling; the pain in your eyes," Tears slipped down her face into his fingers at the memory of his pain, "I had to try...I had to try to take it away..."

His lips silenced her as he kissed her again and again, tasting the salt of her tears as his lips brushed them away, "You are everything to me, baby. Everything. Do you know that?"

"You know I do. You're my everything as well. I love you so, Andrew, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you."

His thumbs brushed at the remaining tears threatening to fall from her eyes, "We said Spring, but haven't set a date yet. Angel, I want to marry you soon. I need the things I feel for you to be official. I think we haven't set a date because getting married felt complicated giving what we are and where we came from, but baby, it isn't complicated at all. I love you and there is nothing complicated about that. We've given this a year and there has been no word from Tess or anyone else. I'm not willing to wait any longer, but I have to know if it is what you want as well."

Her smaller hands came up to lay over his, "You know I do. Can we marry soon? We don't need anything big...only us and our friends..."

"The Saturday before Easter. Two weeks from now," Andrew's voice was decisive, "It's the time of year for new beginnings."

"Our very own new beginning." With a tiny sob, she threw herself into his arms, "I love you...and I'm ready to be your wife."

"Angel, there is nothing I want more."