I heard Grace's sobs for me as I lay in my coffin deep in my darkened apartment. My heart ached for her agony. As promised though, I sent her my heart in my stead. It would calm her for a moment and then someone would brush against her and frighten her in the crowded city street. She'd murmur to herself: 'If Angel were here, I'd not feel so frightened.' Just by thinking my name, she woke me from my trance. I was obligated by my promise to at least touch her telepathically.
It was harder than I had ever imagined, allowing my heart to stand in for someone else's broken one. It was an act that required me to think about Grace every second when I should have been resting. A sacrifice I could have rather done with out as my hunger had doubled slowly over this last month.
I glanced at the memory of her face as the sun began to set; I was not quite ready to emerge from the confines of my coffin. Her sad eyes lingered, longing for the vision of me to reassure her in person. The image burned in my mind.
As soon as the sun went down, I arose, my black cloak all around my naked body. I brushed it off my shoulders and closed my coffin, my thoughts focusing on my careful choice of what I was going to wear to see Grace again.
The cooling air of the night swirled around my pale body. Just thinking about Grace all day had made my body react in ways I had long forgotten. My nipples hardened and between my legs, the undeniable dewy moisture lingered. Sex. Not the smell that came after a tawdry night of sweat and heavy breathing, but the arousal scent that drew two beings together in frenzied desire. I clenched my buttocks in frustration and selected a lacy black bra to cradle my breasts hiding the arousal of my nipples.
'Angel, where are you?'
'I'm coming Grace.' I reassured her.
'Where do you want to meet? At the club again?' she fretted and it drew a smile to my lips. She opened up her mind to me. I saw her frantically running around her apartment, nearly skipping in happiness.
'No, somewhere different.' I insisted. I chose a black linen blouse that pressed itself against my body tracing every curve from the waist up. I washed my hands and then ran my wet fingers through my hair allowing the short ends to get a little ruffled. As I dried my hands, I considered a pair of jeans that slung low across my hips.
I pulled the pair on and slipped my feet into a pair of leather boots. 'Go to the café at the end of the street where you live. I'll be there.' I assured her.
I was waiting for her perched gently on a wrought iron streetlight across the street from the café. I watched her enter, unsure of why she was there, looking as if she had lost something. Though all day she had been open to me evoking my name as her protector, Grace had no real conscious connection to the idea that we had been together all day. Nervously, she sat down and clutched her ivory leather purse in both hands while chewing on her lip. I dared now to pull my senses away from Grace.
Several couples were already there inside, chatting endlessly. The smell of food wafted from every open grill or door of this cozy establishment. I twitched at the thought of a little garlic burning my mouth, but that wasn't enough to keep me from the ethereal vision of Grace sitting on the varnished oak bench. I finally twisted my way down the long upright that allowed the streetlight to look so stately and elegant. With one last tug at my shirt, I gently entered the café, smiling as I caught Grace's attention. It took her a moment, but I stood at the door watching her for that moment, caught in surprise. She was a beautiful vision in the light blue gray dress. It had no sleeves, and allowed me to see a hint of her cleavage. I nearly drooled on the spot lost in my own fantasy.
"Angel!" she was surprised to see me and stood up, gathering her pocket book. "I don't know why I came here, but I felt I would see you. All day, I've thought of you and it was like you were with me." I opened my arms and hugged her tightly.
"I hoped I would get to see you." I said, nonchalantly clearing my throat as the waiter came to guide us to a private booth far away from the other couples. I waited for Grace to take her seat as she ran a hand under her bottom to fold her skirt comfortably. I took the seat across from her, lavishing the red leather seats and the yellowed candlelight.
I dismissed the menus as they were laid in front of us and asked, "How was your day?"
"It was okay, but you stayed on my mind all day long and I don't know why." She shrugged, "We just met once yesterday."
I reached across the table to stop her fidgeting with her hands and caressed the back of her right hand with my thumb.
"You've been on my mind as well Grace." Grace's hand jerked away from mine in surprise, but it was quickly suppressed as a waiter came and placed glasses of water in front of us and a plate of bread with a small bowl of garlic butter.
"Can I start you off with any of our specials today?" The poor boy, probably no more than twenty, oozed in trained customer service with his wide smile.
I handed the menus to him. "Bring us a half carafe of your house red wine, we'll start with a tossed salad, mustard vinaigrette on the side, and for the main dish an order of your gnocchi in your marinara sauce, no garlic."
The boy frantically scribbled down my order, slid away to go locate our wine and give our order to the chef. Grace seemed to have shrunk away, no longer looking at me.
"Was that all right?" I asked. "I can get him back; you can order what you like," I stammered uselessly. I didn't want the next forty minutes to be nothing but silence between us.
She smiled to herself, a private joke. "You ordered for me. No one has done that since I was a small child."
"Well, there's nothing about you that is still a small child," I said softly.
The wine was presented and as were two wine goblets. Our server poured the first half glass.
"Please, take a slice of bread," I said as I took a sip of wine, allowing the rich texture of the wine to dance across my tongue.
"I noticed you didn't order garlic," She said looking rather wistfully at the butter.
"If you like it, please don't let me stop you. I just have found that garlic doesn't really agree with me." My mouth twitched. There was a distant time when garlic and I were nearly fused.
Angel took a slice of bread then parted her pink, shimmering lips and allowed the bread to break between her teeth.
"Sourdough." She said with a smile.
I returned her smile. I lost myself in the thought of her smile, her personality of a bubby vivacious woman shone through without a tremor of hesitation allowing me to see her soul freely.
"How did you find out you're gay?" she asked.
I had seen the question forming in her mind so I was able to answer her. "I've known I'm gay for a very long time. It took me by surprise, but I found that I wanted women very badly." I sugarcoated my past for her. I ran my finger slowly over the rim of my wine glass.
I thought about the memory and kept talking. "I found myself wanting a woman I knew nothing about, Grace. She was worldly, beautiful, and she chose me to impart her sexual wisdom."
