Angel Wings

Anxiety vied for Ayla’s attention as they rode the elevator down two floors. The time for disclosure drew near. Ayla knew their relationship would never be the same. The truth would either make them stronger or tear them apart. She chose to live in the moment and embrace the joy of being with Leo. They sauntered across the grassy courtyard making their way to the beach. Nestled between perimeter palms were three generously spaced gas fire pits surrounded by colorful Adirondack chairs. “Hang on,” Ayla said as she darted toward one of the pits. She tossed her sweatshirt on a chair. The cooler was placed next to a large canvas bag which already staked her claim. “Ready,” Ayla said as she returned. “We can sit by the fire later.” “Aren’t you concerned that someone might take your belongings?” “Nope. Angels are guarding it for us.” Leo grinned and shook his head. “You are a curious amusement if nothing else, Ayla.” The sand beneath their feet held the warmth of the day as Ayla and Leo ambled along the beach. Ayla, with head down, searched the shore for treasure. Leo, with his head up, scanned for subject matter and vantage points. When the sand blushed a dusty rose, Ayla looked up. As Leo had predicted, the sun dipped below the clouds and illuminated their underbelly. Buttery yellows enveloped the hot white sun. Yellow yielded to salmon, then again to pink and lavender. The quiet sea was a resplendent wash of pastel pinks and purples. Ayla was mesmerized by the softness of the evening sky. She could only remember seeing it as hot and vibrant, never soft like a watercolor painting. “I never saw a pink lemonade sea before,” Ayla said to no one, for Leo was off taking pictures. Ayla watched Leo capture the playful silhouettes of a young couple flying in a two-tailed kite. He then zeroed in on a lone heron walking along the frothy shoreline. And of course, he took pictures of Ayla in her gently flowing sundress. They stood together in silence as the last bit of sun dipped below the horizon. The pastel twilight softly lit the courtyard as they headed for the fire pit. Upon reaching it, Ayla picked up the canvas bag. “Don’t sit down yet, I have a present for you,” she said. From the large bag, Ayla drew out her queen-sized plush blanket. It was a starburst of geometric shapes with gradient colors starting with amber, progressing through marmalade and ginger, and ending with burnt sienna and turquoise at the edges. “Here you go, my little burrito, I know that you don’t like to get chilled.” Ayla cheerfully wrapped the blanket around Leo. He did not recoil from being treated like a child. Even in the dim light she could see Leo’s fondness for her in his eyes. Ayla slipped into her sweatshirt as Leo settled into a green Adirondack chair. “You thought of everything, didn’t you?” he said as Ayla handed him a beer. “Tried to,” she smiled. After igniting the gas fire, Ayla wrapped her legs in a cashmerish throw and settled into her chair with beer in hand. The sun had taken light and warmth captive leading them into the underworld. A cool darkness filled the void. Leo did not drink his beer immediately but sat warming himself by the fire. “This is a great blanket. Did you get it in Albuquerque?” he asked. “No, actually in Pipestone, Minnesota. That’s where various indigenous tribes quarry the red stone used in making peace pipes. Calumet, it’s called. The area is very sacred and has been a no-war zone for hundreds of years.” Ayla savored the sight of Leo wrapped in the cozy blanket. “Honestly, I love that blanket, but it is too warm for me down here. I’d like you to keep it.” “I can’t do that. Just take it with you to Albuquerque when you leave.” He grinned playfully. “I’ll return it to you after I wash it.” Ayla laughed. “I’d like you to keep it. No discussion.” The evening was hypnotic as they watched the flames dance to the rhythmic ebb and flow of waves breaking along the shore. It all began as a satisfying silence, but Ayla became increasingly fidgety. Leo must have noticed, for she felt his eyes on her. She took a long slow drink. She took another. Surely by now Leo knows something is up. The dim flickering light continued to hide her secrets. “Relax. I’m not going to ask for permission to decorate another room,” Ayla finally said. “Good. You had me worried for a minute.” Ayla continued to fix her gaze on the fire. Her insides were a tangled mess. She needed to say it. If she made eye contact with Leo, she did not think she could. The words were fully formed in her mind, but they got caught in her throat and had to fight their way out. Finally, they tumbled out, not as she had rehearsed them, but coarse, blunt, and unexpected.