3. Angel #2
Daisy comes over and squats down beside me; the light behind her looks like a halo ringing her raven-colored hair.
The twinkle in her eyes isn’t the sparkle of joy I’d been hoping for; instead it’s an impish glint that signals a warning she’s not done messing with me.
The proof comes in the form of her holding up her phone and snapping another picture before she uses a washcloth to wipe away my drool.
“Aw you wheeling weendicawted yet?” I slur.
“Yes, Angel. I feel vindicated,” she says, smiling wide and showing off all of her pearly whites.
She looks as radiant as an angel, but then she speaks and quickly erases the thought from my mind.
“You have to admit, you kind of deserved it. And guess what? You get the proud honor of being the first human test subject of a prototype stealth weapon. Lucky you!”
“Wucky is nut the wurda I’d wuse,” I say with a numb tongue. I wiggle my fingers to dispel the prickly feeling in my extremities. It’s as if my whole body has fallen asleep and is waking up all at once.
Daisy notices the movement and pats my cheek. “Don’t worry, Ladies’ Man. In ten minutes, you’ll be right as rain and able to put your foot in your mouth without hurting your back. Dinner is almost ready.”
Sure enough, ten minutes later I’m able to sit up without assistance and take in the small space that has become much more crowded with Daisy’s luggage.
It’s not that she’s packed a bunch of clothes or makeup; not that she needs makeup to look beautiful.
It’s the large rifle cases, ammo boxes, and comm equipment stacked in the corner.
Then there’s her fully-packed Gregory Paragon 60 backpack resting against the wall next to my Gregory Baltoro 75 pack, plus an empty duffle bag on the bed.
“Where’s Vinny?” I ask once I’m confident enough that my words will come out clearly.
Stirring something in a pan on the hotplate that is our ‘stove,’ Daisy glances over her shoulder at me briefly before returning to her task. “He went back down to his cabin once he helped me drag you in here. You’re much heavier than you look.”
“Are you calling me fat?” I joke.
“No, I’m calling you dense.”
“I’m not sure how to take that.” I do my best Forrest Gump impression and say, “I might not be a smart man….”
She lets out a little laugh as she turns off the tabletop burner and ladles spaghetti sauce over two plates of penne pasta.
“That is true, Angel, but I was referring to your muscle mass. You’re not built like a tank, but you do weigh a ton.
I didn’t really think about the consequences of my actions, like having to drag you through the woods so you don’t freeze on the ground. ”
“A person rarely does. I can speak from experience,” I tell her as I stand up.
I wobble with each step toward the two-person dinette set by the window.
Under normal circumstances, I’d offer to help carry the plates like the gentleman my mom raised my brothers and me to be.
However, I don’t trust myself enough not to drop them and ruin all of Daisy’s hard work.
Daisy sets a plate down in front of me once I’m seated and then sits across from me. “Thank you,” I say as I hold out my hand to pray over the meal. She stares at it like it’s a snake about to bite her, forcing me to withdraw it. “Do you mind if I give thanks?”
“Please do,” she says, placing her hands in her lap and bowing her head.
Okay, so it’s not prayer that offends her.
It’s the thought of touching me. That realization takes some of the humor out of the evening.
I knew she was angry; I hadn’t realized she was still hurt enough to recoil from something as simple as my hand.
“Dear Lord, thank You for this food and for the provisions You have given us. It is You who are our true sustenance and the force which gives us the energy to persevere. Please bless the hands that prepared this delicious meal. Amen.”
Daisy smiles at me, and for once, the mischievous glint is gone. “I’m surprised you didn’t pray that the food isn’t poisoned, or something to that effect.”
I shift on the chair, the tenderness from the impact of the simunition round a not-so-gentle reminder that Daisy isn’t beyond such measures as poisoning.
Although I doubt she would go so far as to cause any permanent damage.
“I trust you, even if you are a little vindictive. You aren’t wrong, Daisy.
I did deserve that after what I said in Colombia. ”
She holds up a hand to stop me. “You were only telling the truth, Angel. You were worried about your sister, as was I. It was just a kiss, and it didn’t mean anything, right? We both had pent-up emotions that needed an outlet.”
I can hear the hurt in her voice, and that hurt is because of my callous words. Words I didn’t mean and should never have said. Hearing them repeated back to me makes them sound even worse than they did when they came out of my mouth. “I’m sorry, Daisy.”
“As am I,” she replies. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I feel like I do. Daisy, kissing you sparked something inside me I’d never felt before. When our lips met for the first time, it was like coming home. Like something locked into place.”
She nods. “Yeah, I felt it too. I guess that’s why it hurt so much when you dismissed it as ‘nothing.’ Like I was nothing. I wasn’t asking for a commitment from you, Angel. But I hoped that we could at least see where things between us could lead.”
I hate that my own cowardice put that thought in her head. “You’re not ‘nothing,’ Daisy. Please don’t ever think that. I messed up and panicked when my sister confronted me about our kiss. I was scared. Not of her, but of you.”
Daisy scoffs. “Of me?”
I nod. “Of what I would have been willing to give up for you. Ever since I was a child, all I wanted was to be a CIA agent like Vinny. That’s not conducive to having a wife or kids.
More often than not, I can’t talk about what I do…
or did. I’d have to lie and keep secrets.
At a minimum, I’d have to close myself off to the one person I should be able to share everything with.
But when we kissed, I had a glimpse of a life I never thought could be mine.
It was a flash, but it was there. I sound nuts, don’t I? ”
With a wink, Daisy says, “Certifiable.”
“Am I forgiven?”
She points toward my leg. “You’ve paid your penance. And yes, I forgive you. Your sister would hunt me down if I didn’t.”
I chuckle and let out the breath I’d been holding. “Does this mean you’ll give me another chance?”
She shakes her head. “You’re a great guy, but nothing changes.
I want to be with someone who can share their whole life with me.
Not just parts of it. Even if I fully understand what your job entails, I’d always be second fiddle.
Your job would come first. So, no, a romantic relationship is not in our future—not as long as you’re still with the CIA.
Until that day comes, friendship is all I can offer. ”
It isn’t the answer I wanted, but after what I did, I can’t fault her for protecting herself. Worse, I understand every reason she gave me.
I refrain from sharing additional news that would sound like I’m only telling her what she wants to hear. Instead, I ask, “What about you?”
“What about me?” Her brow furrows as she tries to figure out exactly what I’m implying. “I may not be able to mention client names, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about our cases after the fact.”
I gesture toward the gun cases in the corner and the cabin area.
“Since you were 14, your life has revolved around what happened to you and catching the man who kidnapped you. If we don’t get him this time around, would you ever let it go?
This quest is your purpose, is it not? It’s part of your identity. ”
Daisy narrows her gaze. “Until you got stuck down in the dungeon for disobeying orders, you had no idea what I’d been through. Please don’t pretend that you know me because you read a case file.”
“That’s just it, Daisy. Other than Roger and Owen, your own team didn’t really know you either. Not really, and not until you let them in. They’re supposed to be the people you trust with your life.”
Spearing her penne with her fork with enough force that it would crack the plate if it were made of plastic, she doesn’t look at me when she says, “I don’t trust easily, Angel.
To be honest, I wanted a person to trust and confide in besides my brother or Roger.
When you dropped everything and risked your career for your sister, I thought for a split second that person might be you; that God had finally brought a person into my life who would understand me. Then you got scared.”
There’s no accusation in her voice that I can argue away because she’s right. I did get scared, and she was the one who paid for it.
Daisy stands up to scrape the remaining pasta on her plate into the trash and starts washing the dish. Her back is turned to me when she adds, “I can’t afford for someone to run when it gets tough.”
That one hits the mark because I know exactly what she means. I ran once already.
With my strength returned, I walk over and take the sponge from her hand. “I’m here, aren’t I?”