A 'Touched by an Angel' story

By: Yvette Jessen

© 2003 not intended to infringe on any previously held copyrights.

Please Note: This story is the twenty-first in a sequence of stories, which I have written, which are centered on my character, Christina, her family and friends. The first one is entitled ‘The Innocence of a Child’, the second ‘A Little Girl’s Wish’, the third ‘The Senior Prom’, the fourth 'Stealing Second', the fifth 'Another Halloween Night', the sixth 'An Overdue Appointment', the seventh 'Homecoming', the eighth 'Solitary Without Hope', the ninth 'Making the Grade', the tenth 'Till Death Do Us Part', the eleventh 'Olivia's Battle', the twelfth 'In the Father's Arms', the thirteenth 'The Healing Spirit', the fourteenth 'Fulfilled Promises', the fifteenth 'Pennies From Heaven', the sixteenth, 'The Father's Little Ones', the seventeenth, 'In the Heart of a Dreamer', the eighteenth, 'Letting Go', the nineteenth, 'Sealed With a Kiss', and the twentieth, 'A Brand New Beginning'.

*****

Christina Lowery looked out the window of her office. She had been going through files all afternoon and now she was exhausted. As she sat with a hot cup of cocoa in front of her, she shook her head as someone tapped on the door and she looked up to see her boss, Peter Harris, coming into the small room.

"Christina," the gray-headed psychologist spoke, his voice soft, and she offered him a reciprocating smile.

"Yes, Dr. Harris?" She spoke, her voice a depiction of her exhaustion, but at the same time, it was filled with warmth, a seemingly characteristic in Christina's overall stance.

"When are you going to start calling me Peter?" He asked; his grayish green eyes twinkling merrily as he regarded her.

"I don't know, I guess I never really thought much about it," she shrugged her shoulders and looked at him. "You're my boss."

Peter chuckled and looked at her, the laugher dying away as he remembered the reason that he had disrupted her. "Christina, as you know, I'm retiring at the end of the month, and that means there are going to be some changes made around here. I had been meaning to come see you before now in order to discuss this with you, but seeing as things have been so hectic, I didn't really have much of a chance. Aside from work, Dana has been bugging me about getting that trip to Australia planned, and so work has kind of been taking the backseat to things like booking scuba diving lessons and making sure that the hotel we pick has the important things like an all night diner nearby." He smiled impishly. "I guess you know that I've been rather excited about retiring, but I also realized that some plans needed to be made here as well," he said sighing deeply as though about to tell her something important but seeming to have it stuck right on the tip of his tongue.

She smiled and nodded. "I know that you've been talking about this trip for a long time, so I'm glad to hear that you are finally going to take it."

"Yes, well, now you know that this is finally starting to happen for us, but Christina the reason I'm here is because I have a few choices to make and some of them do actually involve you. In fact, when it comes to the future of this practice, probably most of them do. Although, Jana and Stephanie have been here for the past ten or so years, you've been my assistant for over 23 years. What I'm trying to say is that you started working here when you left college, and since then, you've been taking night classes to get your doctorate and other qualification certifications, and with that being the case, I have made some decisions. Since I decided to retire, I realized how imperative it is that this office continue working at the level it has been doing for the last 30 or so years, and I would hope that it would continue to do so even after I'm gone."

"W-what are you trying to say?" She asked as the words got caught in her throat and she looked at him expectantly.

"What I'm saying is that this office will continue running, and that the new doctor in charge will be Christina Lowery," he smiled and when he saw her face, he continued. "Based on that Cheshire cat grin, I am left to conclude that this meets with your approval?"

Christina stood up and went around the desk and took his hands in hers and squeezed them. "Dr. Harris, I mean, Peter, I-I'm flattered, thank you."

Peter nodded but he looked at Christina, "well now that you know about this, I think it's time for me to tell you the bad news."

"Bad news?" She asked.

"Well, you know the old saying 'there's good news and there's bad news', and I'm afraid that this might damper some of what I have already told you. Go ahead and sit down, this is not going to be easy."

Christina did as he said and sat down on the sofa on one side of her office. "What's the bad news?" She finally managed to ask.

"One of the new children," he took a deep breath, but he looked at her, his eyes shadowing over with indescribable sadness. "Her name is Melanie Christianson, she's 11-years-old, and she's being sent here because after what she has been through for the past few months, children's services has sort of expected that she would come here and get some counseling."

"Does this have anything to do with what happened in the news last week, the story breaking about the children being sexually abused and the pedophiles being arrested for it?" Christina asked as the color drained from her cheeks. She had heard about the horrors of this story, it had been all over the newspapers and in the local news coverage, but she also knew because her husband Jeremy worked as a sketch artist for the police. This poor little girl in particular had been abused extensively and pictures had been posted on the Internet. Hearing these words emerging from Peter only succeeded in making the tears well up from beneath her emphatic eyes. Not only had this particular story directly affected a child in their small community, but also it had literally shaken the foundation of the town.

Christina took a deep breath. "Is Melanie going to be put in my care, Peter?"

The elder psychologist nodded. "She won't come within two feet of me, Christina. She doesn't trust men at all, and it positively breaks my heart, but what can I do?" He shrugged his shoulders as the questions emerged. Sighing deeply, he looked at her. "Christina, I know that anything dealing with children having gone through these kinds of horrors really breaks your heart, but could you take her case? I know that this is asking a lot of you, but I also know that you have an much broader understanding of abused children as you have taken a number of them into your home. You raised them with love and compassion, so I know that Melanie will be in the best of hands with you."

"Who is she living with now?" Christina asked softly.

"Her paternal grandmother, Louise," Peter said sadly, "but the child is so disturbed that the grandmother is ready to send her straight into a psychiatric hospital. It has reached the breaking point with them and although I don't blame Louise, I do know that the child needs immediate help."

Christina nodded. "I'll take the case," she whispered. "It may be hard, but if I can keep her out of an institution, then I will do whatever I can."

Peter smiled weakly. "Thank you, I have the file on her in my office, but it's pretty bad, she's probably been through a lot, even more than Laura had. Her case file reads like a police report, and that really gets to me, but that's how it is. The parents are in jail, the child living with her grandmother, but pushing the envelope towards being a ward of the state."

Christina's thoughts immediately shifted to her adopted daughter. Now at 24, Laura was happily married and living a few blocks away from her, Jeremy and their adopted daughters, Dawn and Denise. "Peter, I'll do whatever I can. When is Melanie supposed to come here?"

"Tomorrow morning at 10," he said, but he looked at her with concern shadowing his features. "Are you completely sure that you can handle doing this?"

Christina nodded. "If not me, who?"

"I don't honestly know," the older man said as he left the office only to return a few moments later with the file. He wordlessly placed this on her desk and exited the room once again. Once he was gone, Christina got up and went back over to the desk to sit down and begin looking through the file.

What she read made tears start streaming down her cheeks and she rubbed her hands sadly over her face. "Oh Father, please help me," she whispered her prayer under her breath as she closed her eyes.

She took another deep breath and got up some minutes later and looked across her small but spacious office. I got promoted, she thought happily, but when she looked down at the file in front of her, she realized just how short lived even that little joy was for her. Andrew, she thought of her long time friend at that moment. She had not seen him since Laura's wedding and that was about four years ago. She smiled weakly as she thought about the compassionate Angel of Death, but more than anything, she wondered what he would do in a situation like this.

Without warning, she heard her name being called and she looked up to see that one of Andrew's friends was standing in the room, it was another Angel of Death named Adam. Although she hadn't seen him in a very long time, she immediately recognized that the sadness that enveloped him seemed to match her own and something deep inside of her seemed to confirm that he was as affected by Melanie's story as she now was.

"A-Adam, what are you doing here?" She eventually asked softly once she had found her voice and was able to speak. When she saw the ever-present emptiness in his gray eyes, she knew that something was not settling right with him and she wondered what specifically had happened to him. Without thinking, she tossed the file back on the desk and inched over so that he could come over and sit down next to her.

Once he did, she watched as he rubbed his face with his hands and looked at her. "It's Andrew, Christina, he's walked away from his job and he desperately needs your help."

"What happened?" She asked.

He pointed to the file that was still on the table and then he looked at her. "Andrew loves children, Christina, and now that he has had to see a little girl treated in the way that was described in that folder, he's completely devastated."

Christina rested her hand on his shoulder. "It looks to me as though he's not the only one. How are you doing?"

Adam shook his head. "It's very hard, but I think I'm OK."

"Are you sure?" She asked gently as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Adam, I'm probably not the best to help you, but if you want to talk to me, I will listen."

He shook his head. "You will have your hands full with Melanie."

"I know, but you're my friend too, and nothing you tell me will surprise me after reading through that folder," she could feel the tears in her eyes as she looked at him. "Adam, something tells me that you saw a lot of what Andrew did and that you're close to an emotional collapse."

The devastated angel nodded. "You're good."

"I've been doing this for a few years," she whispered all the while trying to smile, but the sadness seemed to win the war on her emotions. "You know, I did get promoted today."

"You're not happy about it?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Some things take precedence. I mean; this is probably the most severe case I have ever taken on, and I know that the situation is really bad, but I wonder if I'm the right one for it," she said softly.

"For what it's worth, I think you are," he said.

"Yeah, but it's been over four years since you last saw us," she objected.

Adam smiled weakly as he rubbed his hands across his bearded chin. "Christina, when you help Melanie, chances are, you will help Andrew too, but it looks as though the only way you can is to give Melanie the chance to trust him."

"That's impossible, Peter said that Melanie doesn't trust men at all, Adam. I can't force her to accept Andrew. I mean, it's going to take a lot of time and work on both their parts," she said softly.

"She will have to, or else that little girl will be institutionalized and if that happens, then she will eventually die," Adam said earnestly.

"You're not kidding, are you?" Christina asked.

Adam shook his head. "This time, I really wish I was."

Christina nodded, but after a few moments, she spoke. "Adam, can you tell me where Andrew is?"

Adam nodded and once he had given her a slip of paper, he was gone and Christina sat back down next to where he had been seated. She remained there for a few moments, but eventually found herself getting to her feet. She packed the file into her briefcase, and reached for her jacket. Once she had put that on, she swung the strap of the leather briefcase over her shoulder, and left the office quickly.

*****

Some three miles from where she worked, Christina pulled her car to the side of the road and grabbed the piece of paper from off the dashboard, consulted it, nodded and returned it to the spot where she had retrieved it. She cut the motor, climbed out, and locked the car before walking towards a large crevice that was situated on the other side of the narrow two-lane road. She climbed slowly over the barricade and followed the trail down into the valley below.

As she reached this area, she could see a patch of white in front of her and the back of someone's head. Upon recognizing the person as he moved towards a larger crevice that led down into a gully, she called out his name. "Andrew!" When he abruptly stopped and turned around, it was then that she was able to see his face. She released a pent up sigh as she climbed down the crevice somewhat.

When she reached where he was standing, she was suddenly taken aback by his disheveled appearance. Yet, what seemed to stand out the most about him was the fact that his usually compassionate green eyes carried an eerie depiction of anger and hostility, both emotions making him seem more like a stranger on the street and less like an endeared and trusted friend.

"What do you want?" He asked as he turned around and his stony gaze returned to the gully below giving him more the sense of an angry man than an angel from God.

"I was worried about you," she said softly.

"Well, no one asked you, Christina, so why don't you just go away?" He responded coldly, his question piercing her heart like a dagger that went straight into her soul. "Knowing me is not safe for anyone."

"Andrew I…" her voice trailed off.

"Go away, you're worse off having known me, Christina," he said, his voice still cold, and she shook her heard in profound shock and disbelief.

"Where on earth do you go off saying such nonsense?" Christina asked before she could even stop herself.

When he snapped his head back around and looked at her, she backed self-consciously away. Now, she could see the extent of his hopelessness and anger, but she also realized that another emotion encased her when her eyes met his own, and, oddly enough, that was fear.

He won't hurt you, he's an angel, these words seemed to be cursing through her mind and she stood her ground and regarded him with sadness in her eyes.

Eventually, he turned away from her. "If you don't want to get hurt, then I suggest you go away," he said softly.

"Get hurt? Who by?" Christina looked at him. "Andrew, please, I'm not the one who is hurting, it's you, I can tell just by looking at you."

"And you're trying to play this psychologist game with me and I don't want to hear it," he snapped, his eyes filled with hidden pain and anguish.

Christina looked at him not bothering to hide her shock and sadness with his response to her. "No, that's not true, and you know it. I am only trying to be your friend. Andrew, I can't do that unless you let me, and right now, you're acting like a bratty little kid."

"Then if that's what you really think, why don't you just go away and leave me alone?" He asked evenly. "I don't need you."

She shook her head as she reached over and touched his shoulder. "I won't go away Andrew, and whether you believe it or not, you need someone, and it's obvious that you have pushed everyone else away." As she spoke, she inched closer to where he was standing. "Please don't push me away, I really do want to help you."

Andrew turned abruptly around and without thinking, he responded in the very same manner in which she had just described. Without thinking twice, he pushed her roughly away. "Just go away and quit trying to pretend that you care."

Upon feeling his shove, Christina fell backwards all the while, crying out as she toppled into the small cavern. As she landed, she could feel the rocks finding their way beneath her clothing and cutting her skin. After a few moments, she looked up to see that he was standing over the edge of the crevice and looking down at her.

This time, instead of regarding her coldly, she could see the obvious shock and guilt that was evident in his eyes. This time, instead of responding angrily when she made eye contact with him, she could tell instantly that he had probably realized what it was he had done. Seconds later, he climbed down into the cavern and was on his knees next to her.

Instead of acknowledging his presence, she continued to rub the pebbles and dirt off of her clothes. As she did, she kept her head down, the shock over what had just transpired, somehow overshadowing her every, thought, feeling, and emotion.

"So that's it, huh?" She whispered; her eyes filled with hidden pain. "You're so hurt by what has happened to you that the only thing you can do is go and hurt someone who has only loved and cared for you for 45 plus years." She shook her head despondently as she tried to get to her feet. When she felt that her ankle was twisted, she could feel the tears stinging her eyes, but instead of showing him that she was hurt, she bit down on her lip and tried to climb out of the small cavern without so much as asking for his help.

After a few moments of unsuccessfully trying, she plopped back down on the ground all the while rubbing her injured ankle before trying one last time to get herself out of the small cavern and back up onto the ledge. For some time, she tried, but eventually she gave up and remained on the ground, her eyes staring down at the ground. "I can't get up, it hurts too much."

Andrew took a deep breath but said nothing as he inched over to where she was and helped her up and over the crevice. Once they were both out of the crevice, she looked up at him trying all the while to keep the angry, hurt and accusing glare, out of her expression. Eventually, she spoke, her words filled with sadness. "You must have lost a lot of hope," she whispered as tried to get to her feet in order to walk away from him. "I guess, there's really nothing I can do," she said more to herself than to him, but her painful words continued, the sadness and disappointment clearly present as her words continued. "The Andrew I know would never have pushed me, he would never have hurt me with accusing words and actions. He would have just cared, and accepted that I'm here and only wanted to help. I guess when his hope dried up, the friend I treasured all but disappeared."

She started to hobble away her back now to him, but as she did, she did not notice that Andrew's face had suddenly lost all its color and he reached out to her, his fingertips now brushing against her upper back. This gesture did not stab at her conscious, instead, it was the simple one word that he spoke that made her stop and turn around. "Christina?"

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sadness, but she tried with everything that was inside her to face him with the traces of courage that were now dwindling in her spirit. "What is it, Andrew?"

He shook his head and she could tell that he was trying with everything in him to drown out the images of what it was he had seen. At the same time, Adam's words in her office suddenly filtered back into her conscious and she reached a hand out to him and after a few moments, she could feel the warmth of his fingers encircling her hand, the warmth of his hand blocking the coolness of the breeze that was now blowing.

"Forgive me, Christina, please?" Andrew eventually spoke, his voice cracking and she looked up and could see the tears of regret streaming from beneath his unhappy green eyes.

Without speaking for a few moments, she nodded. When she eventually found her voice, she looked at him. "You hurt me," she whispered.

"I know," Andrew covered his face with one of his hands and she could see that his head was down, his hair hanging in clumps down over his shoulders. After a few moments, she unconsciously shivered and he noticed that she was there without a jacket.

"I'm sorry, but its s-so cold out here, Andrew, so maybe we should talk about this at home," she said as she tried to button her lightweight jacket. Andrew put his arm around her shoulder and helped her to walk back in the direction of where her car was parked along the side of the road. As they reached the barricade, Andrew climbed over it and then helped her to the car.

As soon as they reached the car, Christina pulled the key from her pocket and started to open the door. "Let me, your foot is hurt, and you shouldn’t be driving," Andrew offered and she nodded and crawled across the seat so that she was seated in the passenger side of the car. Glancing over, she watched as he slid behind the wheel, all the while, not saying a word. Once Andrew had closed the door, he started the motor and drove back out onto the street.

"What were you doing back there all by yourself, Andrew?" She asked softly, her voice suddenly breaking the silence.

The angel shook his head, but no words emerged.

"A-Adam was worried about you, you know," she whispered. "I suppose that his concerns are somewhat catching. When I saw you back there, I got so scared. I thought that maybe it was a mistake, me coming to help you. I wondered if God had erred, if maybe He should have sent you Tess, or Sam or someone else. I didn't think it was even possible for Him to have wanted me to help you."

"Christina, I…" Andrew started to speak, but the words died on his lips and he shook his head sadly.

"It's OK, I'm not angry with you, I know that you have been through something traumatic, and I want you to know that I'm here for you," she said softly. "Do you want to stop somewhere before we go back to the house?"

Andrew looked down at his clothing. "Christina, do you know what happened?"

"Adam said that you had lost hope, he said that something happened and you walked away from your job," she whispered.

"Yes, I quit," he said softly. "Sort of like what happened a few years ago, but now…now I don't know if I could ever go back," his voice trailed and he looked at her despondently. "I-I just can't take anymore."

The woman nodded, but instead of continuing to drive back towards town, she watched as he pulled into a parking lot and cut the motor.

When he said nothing, she simply looked at him, all the while trying to take in his appearance. It was no secret; the Angel of Death had definitely seen better days. His off white shirt was hanging loosely from his slumped shoulders and at the bottom of the shirt near the hem, she could see ground in dirt as well as a small hole which she guessed was from the twigs and branches in the valley where she had found him. The shirt itself looked to be moist with perspiration and dirt and it was not even tucked into his beige pants. She reached over and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Andrew, I'm sorry this all happened to you," she whispered as she continued to take in his appearance. "I know that I'm probably not the best person to tell you anything, that all of the realizations about it must come from you. Yet, you know that you're not alone in all of this, don't you?"

He shook his head sorrowfully, but at that moment, his collar length hair was hanging in clumps down over his shoulders and his green eyes were void of emotion. They were filled with so much pain that she could only conclude that what had happened to him recently could not even compare to what had happened in the wake of the Southside school shooting over twelve years ago. This new sense of pain and anguish was unspeakable and Christina wondered how on earth she would even be able to bring Andrew and Melanie into the same place without it emotionally devastating either of them.

Instead of speaking about this extensively, she looked at him, her eyes filled with empathy. "Andrew, I know about the sexual abuse case, my boss came to me today and he gave me a promotion. At the end of the month, he'll retire, and I'll be taking the service. For better or for worse, I'll be holding everything, and one of the things I will have to hold is a terrible situation for a little girl named Melanie Christianson."

"Melanie?" Andrew looked at her through the tears that were in his eyes. He looked at Christina as though expecting her to be joking, but when he saw the sadness in her eyes, he knew beyond any doubt that she was being completely serious.

"You know her, don't you? She's the reason you were out here?" Christina asked and Andrew nodded numbly. "When Peter told me about what had happened; the only person I had wanted to have here for all of us, was you, but now as I look at you and I know that maybe I should be here for you, but I honestly don't know how. I mean; it's been four years since you saw me, Andrew, and the truth is, it hurts me so much to see you this way, and I don't really know how much I could do to help."

Andrew looked at her. "Forgive me?"

She nodded. "I do, but, I will tell you that the last four years have been very hard for all of us, but God willing, we have survived. I know that you and your friends are a part of that, but don't you see? I could never go back to Heaven and find healing from God the way you can, but somehow, I always knew that He would be there to help you, Andrew."

The human angel looked at her, his eyes filed with sadness. "The horrors I have seen," he whispered.

Christina nodded as she wrapped her arm around him. "Maybe having the chance to be with God makes up for that," she whispered as she felt the tears streaming down her face. "You know, I got promoted today, it was as if someone was saying 'Christina, you've done wonderful work, you have helped children when they needed you'. But, then I opened that file and I thought my heart was going to break into thousands of tiny pieces. I remembered Laura, and how we found her at the park, how I had to work so that she would trust me, and how the nightmares seemed to encompass her even after she had come to live with me." As she spoke the tears streamed from beneath her eyes. "I have raised four children, one of whom is dead, but this didn't stop me from living, and you're part of the reason that I made it. Now, I desperately need your strength again, I need your love and understanding to help me try and help a little girl who has only lived a life filled with unspeakable humiliation, sadness, and tragedy. Andrew, please tell me what I should do."

The unhappy angel shook his head, but instead of pushing her away he reached over and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I-I don't know."

"Then maybe you can help me find out," she looked at him. "If I help her, maybe I can help you, too."

Andrew looked at her, his eyes misting over as he regarded her. "You really care for this child, don't you?"

Christina nodded. "I can't even begin to imagine the pain she's in, but I do feel for her. Her grandmother wants to send her to an institution and that scares me more than anything else in the world. I have not been this affected by my work since Ted Gordon died. Oh God, what if I can't help her? She's traumatized to such a degree that I can't fathom the idea of what would happen if I fail?"

Andrew shook his head. "I don't know if I can convince you that you won't, but Christina, you won't. You have helped so many people, and you helped me, too. Your friendship and caring is one of the greatest treasures about you."

She looked down at her lap and shook her head sadly. "I should be happy about the promotion, but right now, I'm consumed with so much sadness."

Andrew wrapped her in his arms and held her tightly in his embrace, but in his arms she knew instinctively that he was feeling as weak and powerless as she was.

As their embrace loosened, she looked up at him upon getting whiff of the odor reeking from his clothing. "I think I should get you something new to put on," she said softly as she looked up and could see that they were in a parking lot for a local clothing store. She looked at him. "Let's go get you some things, I mean; you really look terrible."

Andrew shook his head, but no words emerged, but she could tell what it was that he wanted to tell her, that he felt terrible. Instead of speaking, he took a deep breath.

"Why won't you talk to me?" She finally whispered when the silence seemed to literally engulf her.

Andrew shook his head, his eyes now on his lap and Christina smiled weakly as though she understood more about what was going on with him than he even realized.

*****

A few hours later, but that same evening, Jeremy Lowery came home from work to see that his adopted 18-year-old twin daughters were waiting for him. Denise and Dawn were both in their last semester of high school and he couldn't be more proud of them. Denise had joined the choir and was one of the best singers in the soprano section, and her sister Dawn had followed her brother's footsteps and joined the school's art club.

Now as the spring semester was starting to draw to a close, the twins were really getting excited about their senior prom and as Jeremy came inside, he could see that they had once again started going through magazines, both girls insistent about picking the most perfect dress for the most wonderful night of their lives.

"Hello girls," Jeremy said smiling at the two of them as he dropped his jacket on the back of the sofa and had received a backbreaking hug from both girls. "Did you two join the wrestling team or what?" He asked jokingly as he ruffled the matching red curly locks that hung down over the shoulders of both girls. "You just about knocked me off my feet."

Denise smiled weakly as Dawn laughed out loud. "Dad, you have to come and see the dress I picked out for the prom."

Dawn, unlike her sister had started calling Jeremy 'Dad' a few years ago, and although they both knew that Dawn and Denise had both adored their birth father, they had grown to love Jeremy as though he was their 'stand-in' father. Denise was still hesitant about calling him 'Dad' so Jeremy suggested that she just call him 'JC', which was his first and middle initials, Jeremy Charles.

"Are you two going to dress alike and confuse your dates?" Jeremy asked, and Denise scowled at him.

"I don't have a date, only Dawn does," Denise whispered.

"Well, there are three or four weeks left till then, so maybe if some of those guys know what's good for them, they'll ask you," he said with a good humored smile on his face.

Denise shrugged her shoulders. "Thanks JC, you're awesome. But, I don't think there's a guy around who would want to ask me."

"I don't believe that, you're the prettiest girl in the school, what guy wouldn't give his right eye to have you with him?" Jeremy smiled at her, his eyes twinkling merrily, but when she didn't return the gesture, he looked at her. "Denise, is something wrong?"

The teenager smiled weakly, "I'm fine, just thinking about stuff."

"OK, so to get your mind off those things, let's have a look at these pictures," he said softly trying to ignore the sadness in Denise's voice. He squeezed her shoulder gently as Dawn pulled out a magazine and opened it. A fire engine red taffeta gown was on the page, the price 1,200 dollars was underneath it and Jeremy grimaced. "OK, there's only one thing I don't like about it."

"What, is the cut too low?" Dawn asked smirking at him. "Should I get a potato sack and cut arm holes in it?"

"No, the cut is not too low, the price is too high," Jeremy smiled impishly and the two girls began to giggle. "I'll tell you what, get some ideas in these magazines, and then this weekend we can go dress shopping and see about getting something that doesn't make my wallet start screaming for mercy."

Denise smiled at him as she reached over and pulled a second magazine off the stack. This one was lying open and she held it up and showed it to Jeremy. The dress she selected was a little less elegant than Dawn's selection, it was navy blue in color, went down to the calves, was made out of taffeta, and was covered with lace. "I would rather have this in white," she explained, "but I really liked this style, it looks like something Monica would wear and I think white is really nice anyway."

Dawn shrugged and looked at her sister wickedly. "So you're the angel and I'm the devil?" She offered Jeremy a toothy grin, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Yes, devilishly cute, you mean;" Jeremy smiled as the phone rang and Dawn snatched it up.

"Lowery residence, this is Dawn speaking," She said into the receiver, but her smile disappeared when she handed the phone to her father. "It's for you," she grumbled as she pushed the object into his hands.

"Well thank you, madam secretary," Jeremy chided her gently as he took the phone and held it up to his ear. Once Jeremy had started speaking to the caller, Denise and Dawn began to collect their magazines and Denise looked at her sister. "Who were you expecting to call, the terribly desirable 'Adam Joshua', our cousin that looks like God's gift to men?"

"Hey now, wait a minute, he's not really our cousin, we're adopted, you dork, remember? Besides, Adam is just a guy like all the others, but he's also as cute as his namesake," Dawn said defensively all the while snickering.

"His namesake is older than dirt, if you haven't forgotten," Denise said. "Besides, from the way you're talking about him, it sounds utterly creepy to me, I mean, AJ is like twenty or something, and he's not even in our class," Denise said as she shrugged her shoulders.

"You're just jealous because you don't have a date yet," Dawn snapped, this discussion starting to get on her nerves and she was starting to get aggravated with her sister's bad mood as well as her attitude.

"Hey ladies, if you don't mind, would you mind taking this discussion upstairs, I can hardly hear anything here and this is kind of important?" Jeremy looked up and Denise walked towards the stairs, her eyes filled with sadness.

For her part, Dawn sat down on the sofa, her arms crossing in front of her and she sighed deeply as she waited for Jeremy to get off the phone. Once he did, she looked up.

"Sorry, Dad," she whispered.

"No reason for that, is something wrong?" He asked.

She shook her head. "It's not me, it's Denise, she's acting like the spawn of Satan lately."

"Excuse me?" He looked at her intently. "Did I hear you right?"

Dawn looked at him. "It's just a saying, do you honestly think an angel will walk through that door this evening and give me a talking to about my choice of wording?"

Jeremy sighed but looked at her. "OK, then if Denise won't talk to me, why don't you tell me what you know, and maybe between us we can figure all this out?"

"I don't really know, I mean; I don't think she really cares about getting a date, but I think she's being really defensive about something else. She's been that way for a few weeks now, I guess since we started looking at dresses. There's something going on with her, but every time I try to talk about it to her, she cops an attitude and walks away with her nose in the air. I don't know what to do. I mean; if you go and tell her that we talked, she's going to hate me for the rest of my life, but if you don't, then I'm thoroughly convinced that I will go out of my mind, and that's what really scares me."

Jeremy shook his head sadly. "Sometimes when girl is no longer a girl, she has a hard time dealing with things like this. I know that you and Denise have it hard right now, probably because your mom isn't here with you to help pick out these dresses and things, and somewhere in there, is a little bit of sadness in doing that. But, you know, honey, your mom is still with you, she always will be."

"Why doesn't Christina help us?" Dawn asked weakly, using her adopted mother's name instead of calling her 'Mom' as she was accustomed to doing.

"My guess is because she had a bad experience at a prom, she was raped, honey, and that night she nearly died. She went through so much heartache, and had Andrew not been there…" Jeremy said gently, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her and ruffled her hair. "For some people, the prom does not spark images of joy and happiness, sometimes, it can be downright terrifying. But, don't worry, I think Christina does know that this prom is a very exciting time for you and your sister."

"Yeah, but if it's hard for her, then I don't want to contribute to that," Dawn objected.

"That's sweet honey, but she alone must deal with the memories she has of it and I am certain that in time, she will be ready to help you and Denise get ready for this night. One of the nice things for her is that she is relieved because at least she knows your date," Jeremy said smiling.

"Does it seem weird to you, I mean, AJ is like our cousin?" Dawn asked.

"No, AJ is a nice guy, Dawn, and he won't treat you badly, because I know where he lives," Jeremy's eyes crossed and she giggled. "Listen, if I was really your dad, and Christina was really your mom, you would be totally disgusted about going out on a date with him, but like I told you some years ago, no one, not even me or Christina can replace your real mom and dad, and we don't want to. We told Patrick and the two of you that as long as you need us, we'll be there for you, no questions asked, but your last name is still Wallace, and a family name, is a part of what links you to that family. So, if people tell you that dating AJ is weird, then you tell them that your name is Dawn Wallace and that they should not judge you."

"Thanks," she smiled weakly. "But, what's going to happen to Denise, she seems so unhappy lately?"

"I don't know what will happen to her, maybe in time we'll find out, but until then, keep your chin up, we'll get through this together," Jeremy said softly as the front door opened and Christina and Andrew came inside. Upon turning around and seeing the disheveled state of the angel, Jeremy stood up and regarded the angel with a mixture of shock and bewilderment shadowing his face. "Andrew, what on earth happened to you?"

"Jeremy, do you remember what's been happening here in town with the Internet ring that was busted last week?" Christina asked softly.

"How can I forget, it's the biggest topic at the precinct since the Yankees won the 'World Series'?" He asked and looked at Andrew. "Uh, I take it you've had your fill of it too?" Once the angel nodded, Jeremy turned to his adopted daughter. "Dawn, why don't you take Andrew upstairs, get him some towels, and let him get cleaned up a bit?"

The teenager nodded as she got to her feet and went over to the angel. When she reached where he was standing, she looked up at him. "What happened, Andrew?" She asked weakly.

Christina covered her lip with one of her fingers and Dawn nodded as she reached for Andrew's hand. "Go on, Andrew, it will do you some good. Here's the stuff we found for you so you won't be stealing all of Jeremy's clothing."

Jeremy laughed, his eyes dancing merrily as the couple watched the teenager lead the angel from the room. Once they disappeared up the stairs, Jeremy looked at her. "What happened? Something tells me that I'm not going to like this one bit."

Christina shook her head. "It's terrible, Jeremy, but I think I'd better start at the beginning. Can we sit down, my foot hurts?"

"Your foot?"

"It was just an accident, can we sit down?"

He nodded and once they had seated themselves in the living room, Jeremy looked at his wife and waited for her to begin speaking.

"Adam showed up at the office today, and he told me that Andrew had quit his job," Christina said softly. "I went to find him, that's why I'm so late getting home and I twisted my ankle down at Junction Ridge when I went to find him. He was walking listlessly around and for a while I didn't know if I could get through to him. He said that it was dangerous being his friend. Then he told me to go away, and it hurt more than this, simply because I could see something deeper in him. There was so much pain in him. Oh Jeremy, what am I going to do?"

"I don't understand, is this about Andrew or you?" Jeremy asked gently.

"He pushed me away," Christina began to openly cry. "I know he didn't mean to, but it hurt."

"Shhh," Jeremy soothed gently. "You and Andrew have been through everything and then some together. Your friendship is very strong, and maybe he came with you here because he knew it and maybe he realized that you were the strength he needed."

"No, I'm not, only God is strength," she whispered. "At the office, after I got a new case, I was thinking about him, but I didn't fully realize that it's really been hard for him. I don't know how many times he's been sent to children who have been abused, but it must be so hard for him sometimes. My God, so many times I've wanted to quit my job, I've wanted to walk away because I can't carry the load. Why can't I?"

"You're only human honey," Jeremy said softly. "Yet, something tells me that you were given the Christianson case, huh?"

"H-how did you know?" Christina asked as she nodded.

"They told me at work last week that your office was going to take the case and I saw Peter Harris at the precinct house last weekend. I was going to tell you, but I guess I forgot because I got busy and it slipped my mind."

Christina nodded numbly. "Melanie will start counseling with me tomorrow, Jeremy. I'm so scared that I'm going to fail her. I kept thinking about Ted Gordan all afternoon, I thought I was going mad." As she spoke, she could feel the tears as they continued to stream from beneath her eyes as she remembered this time when she had felt more uncertain about herself than ever before.

Christina's Flashback

It happened that she had been counseling a young boy named Ted for almost two months. He had been in and out of depression since he started therapy; the stress from school appeared to be getting the better of him. He was shy, often alone, and considered to be one of the smartest kids in school, but something was missing in his life, and his suicidal tendencies was what brought him and his worried parents to Christina. Now, the situation with him was quickly getting out of control.

Christina knew from the start that he was suicidal just from looking at him. He often talked about death in his sessions with her, dwelling on what happens after a person died. For this reason, she conveniently avoided mentioning her friend, Andrew. He was, after all, an Angel of Death and anything she could have said that would make death seem beautiful, would be the wrong thing to do in this situation.

Instead, every single time she talked with Ted, she tried with all her strength to tell him that suicide was a cop out; that it would be a mistake, and the pain he would leave with his parents and friends would be unbearable. Today's session left her more afraid than worried, because somehow she could almost sense that the boy had reached the breaking point. He had screamed at her, saying that she was a quack, hurling hurtful and spiteful words at her before he had stormed out of the session.

In the past five years since she started working as an intern for a Child Psychologist and obtained her practice, she had never seen a more hopeless case than that of Ted Gordon. In addition, she had never in her life felt so hopeless and unsuccessful at her work as she did at that moment. She had always been able to help the kids, from the time she had started this work, up until this point, but now she was feeling completely incompetent with this and started questioning whether this was actually part of the plan that God had for her life.

She knew the 13-year-old boy was depressed, but when he had lost his temper with her, all she could do watch as he left, close his file, and just go home. His parents, both of whom worked, seemed to be completely unable to help him, and this made her angry, but at the same time, she could truly understand their need to work. Both had been stigmatized by society as being people who did not wish to work because both their families had been poor, and had lived off the state's welfare system. Christina knew that Ted's parents were determined to overcome these stigmatisms, and she held a great deal of respect for them in that regard, but the question about their son's well being continued to loom in the air.

The hardest part of the entire story was that both Valerie and Chris Gordon trusted her completely with regards to their son. Now, she was not certain if this was such a good thing, as it left the burden of responsibility firmly on her shoulders.

As she was getting into her car, she sighed deeply not knowing what she could do besides pray that God would watch over all of them, and hope that that night she would actually be able to sleep. For the last weeks, she had been unable to sleep because of her worries regarding this case. It was no secret, she was scared for Ted, and for some reason; she could not shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen.

During the past weeks, Ted's situation had progressively gotten worse, the conversations with him had gotten more strained, the boy becoming more aloof and resentful. She was worried, and even though she knew professionally, she should not get personally involved in it. In some ways, she knew that she already was.

She thought almost constantly about calling her boyfriend, Jeremy, and asking him what he thought she should do. She quickly dismissed this because as a psychologist, she believed wholeheartedly in the confidentiality of her patients. The burden would have to remain on her shoulders for the time being.

Besides that, during the last days, Jeremy had been sent out of town for some kind of police sketch artist convention. He had called her the night before telling her he missed her, and wanted to meet her when he came back. He had said there was a surprise when he came back, but even after talking extensively with his sister, Paula, she still had no clue about what he was cooking up. Knowing him, it could be anything.

Thinking about Jeremy at least made her smile. She had met him under some rather strange circumstances, but she was really truly in love with him. He was kindhearted, compassionate, but also had a mischievous streak that she truly loved. Whenever she thought about him, she was completely happy.

Her thoughts returned to Ted as a strange sensation overcame her once again. Sighing deeply, she turned on the radio and allowed the soft swells of music to encompass her. She absolutely refused to make the boy into some kind of sideshow freak, so she kept those disturbing thoughts she had about him to herself. She did pray for him often though.

Christina's Flashback End

Jeremy wrapped his wife in his arms. "I know this whole situation with the Gordon case hurt you, especially after Ted had gone through with it. But, what makes you so sure that you're going to fail Melanie? You have been an experienced child psychologist for years now. Why would a case from early on start to haunt you now?"

She shook her head sadly as even more tears tumbled down over her cheeks. "I don't know why. Maybe if I did then this wouldn't be so damn difficult for me to deal with. Yet, after I had spoken to Adam, this whole nightmare started playing back in my mind, I started remembering things that had happened back when, and I started feeling as though I was losing it. Back then, Andrew was there with me, and he helped me to understand what was going on, but now, after seeing him, and seeing what he was going through, I knew that I was on my own, and I'm scared."

"You only believe that because Andrew has been noticeably weakened by all of this. Is that why, for some reason, you don't believe that you'll get through this?" He asked.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I mean, there's so much riding on this now, and if I can't go into that room tomorrow morning and full of confidence then what am I doing? Why am I the one who has to try and reach this child? Jeremy, she's been damaged beyond recognition, and now I have to pick up the pieces for her, and I'm afraid I'm going to drop one…" her voice trailed and she buried her face against the cotton shirt her husband wore.

Jeremy rubbed his hand gently through her hair. "You'll help her, honey, I know you will. I wish I could give you some of the confidence back, that same faith that I have always had in you."

Christina smiled weakly as she rested comfortably in his arms. As she felt his hold on her tighten, she looked up at him, and kissed him. "I love you, Jeremy, have I told you that lately?"

"I think the last time you told me was this morning before you left for work, but I always like to be reminded of it." He ruffled her hair as he brushed the tears gently from her face. "Do you have anything else to tell me? I know that look."

"Well," she smiled weakly. "I did get that promotion I had been praying for."

"Like I had any doubts," he smiled gently as he tapped her nose with his fingertip.

*****

Upstairs, Dawn was pulling towels from the hall closet and handed two large bath towels to Andrew. "I hope this will help," she offered, but when he didn't respond, she looked up at him. "Andrew, can I ask you something?"

The human angel nodded numbly, but she could tell that he was not up to answering any sorts of questions.

"Are you sure you're OK? It scares me to see you like this. I mean…" her voice trailed off and she looked at him somewhat hesitantly.

"I'm OK," he whispered his voice filled with sadness, but the words emerged unconvincingly.

Dawn shook her head as she handed him two towels and a washcloth. "I get it, you don't want to talk to me." She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess you and Denise have something in common because she won't talk to me either."

With that, she turned and slowly walked away, thus leaving him alone. He watched as she disappeared inside her room and once she had closed the door, he could do nothing except shrug his shoulders and walk with weighted steps into the bathroom.

After he had showered and gotten changed, he emerged from the bathroom nearly stumbling over Denise as he came out of the small room. "Dawn?" He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper and he guessed that she either was heading downstairs or needed in the bathroom.

The girl sighed deeply, the obvious sadness literally encasing her when she realized that he had mistaken her for her sister. Her gaze remained on the ground rather than looking up, she mumbled, her voice barely audible, but he could make out her words. "No, Andrew, I'm Denise."

"I'm sorry, Denise, I guess I must be tired or something, normally I don't mistake you and Dawn," he whispered.

"It's OK, I'm sort of used to being overlooked these days." she said sadly. "Dawn is the one who gets the dates, and stuff, I'm just the tagalong."

"You know I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings, Denise," he said softly as he took a deep breath, his hands he stuffed dejectedly in his pockets.

The teenager took a deep breath and looked at him. "I should be happy to see you, but it doesn't look as though you're all that happy to see me."

"Of course I'm happy to see you, Denise," he said softly. "It's just that there has been so much happening these past days that I just haven't been myself lately."

"You too?" She asked.

"Yes, me too," he smiled weakly, but when he saw her eyes, he could see some hidden pain in her. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

"No, you've got too much on your mind to listen to me, just forget it," she offered sourly.

"Do you know where Christina and Jeremy are?" He asked, trying to change the subject with her, but keeping his voice on a friendly level.

"They're still downstairs," she whispered, but looked up at him and instead of focusing on her own troubles, she could clearly see that something was bothering him. "Andrew, is something the matter? You don't look like yourself."

He shook his head but spoke, all the while trying to show her that he was stronger than he truly felt. "I'm fine, Denise," he offered weakly, but she knew that he wasn't speaking the truth because when she glanced up at him, she realized that his gaze was everywhere except on her.

"I get it, you don't want to talk to me either, do you?" she whispered. "Dawn came into my room while you were in the shower, and she said that you were acting weird, but I didn't believe her. I guess now I have no other choice." She started to walk away, but he reached out and touched her arm, this causing her to stop and turn around.

"I can't tell you about this, Denise, simply because it's so terrible that I don't think it would be the best thing for me to do," he said softly, his voice the epitome of defeat.

The teenager nodded. "Did you tell Christina?"

He nodded. "Yes, but not everything."

The young girl nodded as though she understood, but she was afraid, and she didn't know why. She eventually found the courage to look up at him. "Andrew?"

The human angel smiled weakly at her. "What is it?"

Denise shook her head. "Dawn said you quit," she whispered as a few stray tears trickled down over her cheeks.

He nodded. "I can't go back, Denise, I have been an Angel of Death for a long time, but right now, I am at a loss about how much good I am doing."

"But you are," she said softly. "Andrew…" Her voice trailed off and she looked away. "I know it sounds selfish, but I really kept hoping that you would come back, that you would help make things better."

Andrew shook his head sorrowfully. "I don't know how I could," the words emerged before he could stop them and he stood there watching, as the color seemed to fade from her already pale cheeks.

"But you did, so many times, too," Denise whispered as she tried to wipe the tears from beneath her eyes.

"I can't go back, Denise, something terrible has happened, something that I wish I could talk about, but right now, I just know deep inside that I cannot," he objected and looked down at her.

"I'm not a little kid anymore, Andrew," she said softly, but her voice was full of indignant undertones.

"I know you're not, honey, and this really has nothing to do with your level of maturity. The truth is, I'm just not ready to talk about it yet," Andrew said sadly.

After a few moments of silence had passed between them, she sighed deeply as she shook her head and her abrupt words emerged. "Andrew, you have to go back to your job." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with hidden pain. "Please."

"Denise, you don't understand," he whispered.

The teenager nodded as she looked up at him, a new sense of determination somehow overwhelming her. "I understand perfectly, you're being selfish, you aren't thinking about the fact that there is someone who needs you, and time is running out."

"What are you saying?" He asked softly.

"This isn't about me, Andrew, and it's not about my family, it's about my best friend, Jo Peterson."

"Jo?" Andrew looked at her all the while remembering the young girl in the wheelchair that he had met the last time he had come to this town. He remembered how he and his friends had not only helped her, but how they had helped Jennifer, Jo's mother as well as her little sister, Katie. Sighing deeply, Andrew looked at Denise, they both knew that Jo was terminally ill, but he did not know how much time she had, or what he could possibly have to do with this particular situation. "What happened?"

Denise shook her head sorrowfully as she looked down at the ground. After a few moments, she looked up at him. "Jo was rushed to the hospital two days ago, I was at the community center when it happened and Laura and me had to call 911." She looked at the angel, her eyes a depiction of sadness. "Jo always said that you had promised to be there for her when she needed you, and now she does," As she spoke, the tears streamed down over her face as her last words emerged. "Andrew, Jo's going to die."

"Is that why you've been so sad?" He asked softly.

Denise nodded numbly. "It's not about the prom, it has nothing to do with the prom. I don't even care if I go to the prom, or if I have a date for it, but…" her voice trailed and she looked up at him. "You made a promise to her, she told me about it when I went to see her yesterday, and she made me swear that if I saw you, that I would tell you if you didn't already know about this. The truth is; I haven't stopped praying for you to come back since we talked, and then seeing you again, I knew that my prayer had finally been answered."

Andrew looked at her. "Denise, I…"

"What?"

"I can't do anything, God made me human," he whispered.

"You can't or won't?" Denise looked at him, her expression changing and now she regarded him with anger.

Andrew looked at the girl, his eyes filled with sadness. "I left, Denise," he whispered as he started to walk towards the guest room, but Denise followed him into the room and once they were inside, she went over and sat down on the bed. Once she was comfortable, she looked up and waited for him to come over and sit down next to her.

When he did not move, but rather, remained standing, she looked up at him, her eyes a depiction of sadness. "Andrew, please go back, you have to, think about the promise you made to Jo," she whispered softly, her voice trembling with lost hope.

The human angel sat down on the bed next to her and reached for her hands. "You're so much like Christina and Laura, you care so much and I don't want to hurt you."

"Laura told me that you and Christina have been through a lot together, but so have we, I mean, Dawn and me," Denise said softly.

Andrew looked at Denise. "Do you remember when you were just a little girl and we were sitting outside looking at the stars?"

"Yeah, it was really nice sitting with you. I will never forget that you held me in your arms and told me that God loves me and that when I cry, He cries with me." As she spoke, she could feel the tears in her eyes. "You said that I am His child and that I would always be His little girl."

"Yes," Andrew smiled weakly. "I remember."

"It meant a lot to me," Denise said softly as she looked at him. "But, there are a lot of people who don't believe that, and they need you to tell them, and as long as you're caught up in your own troubles, there is no way for you to help people like Jo, and she really does need your help, Andrew. She doesn't even have to tell me so, but I know that she is so scared."

With that she got up and walked slowly out of the room, the door closing firmly behind her. Andrew sighed deeply and nodded, his eyes downcast. He realized at that moment, he could not even think or pray, all he could do was sit and stare at the floor, his eyes filled with unbelievable sadness.

Moments seemed to crawl by in slow motion when he suddenly was able to sense another presence there with him in the room. He looked up, thinking that Christina had come into the room to tell him that dinner was ready, but when he made eye contact with whom it was now standing next to the bed, he had to swallow the lump that had suddenly lodged itself in his throat as his one word emerged. "Father?"

The Creator of the Universe nodded and reached over and touched His angel's shoulder. As He sat down next to where Andrew was now sitting the Father knew that the sadness and regret were literally engulfing the angel. "Denise is right, there is a child here who needs you, My angel, not just Melanie Christianson but another child whom you have professed to be a friend with, and that is Josephine Peterson."

Andrew shook his head. "Father, I…" His words trailed off and he looked into the eyes of his Father. "It's too much."

"I know it is Andrew," the Father responded, "but I have a plan, and I hope that you will trust in that plan. You have in the past, you have believed Me whenever I would tell you what it is you need to do."

As the Father spoke, the door swung open and Christina came into the room. She stood in the doorway, a bottle of water in her hand, but when she saw everything that was taking place in front of her, she allowed the bottle to slide from her hand and thump against the floor. "A-Andrew, w-what's happening?" She whispered as she tried to retrieve the bottle, close the door and find a seat in order to sit down at what appeared to be all at the same instant.

As she once again managed to get to her feet, she slowly walked over to where the angel and his Master were seated. Finding her voice once again, she managed repeat her inquiry, but when no answer emerged from the angel, she turned and began to address the Father, her voice weak, but also demanding. "W-who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

The Father looked into the eyes of the woman and smiled. "I Am Andrew's Father, Christina."

Instead of speaking, she looked at Andrew who nodded and she, as if by impulse, sank to her knees and looked up at them shaking her head as though in denial of what had transpired. "I" Was all that she was able to say, but all the while she was still uncertain if her utterance had emerged loud enough for them to hear her.

The Father looked at Andrew and then came over to where Christina was on the ground. He stooped down, took her hands, and in one fluid motion, pulled her gently to her feet. "It is good that you have come, Christina," He said softly.

"Y-you're really God, the Father, oh my," she managed immediately regretting the words that emerged as though she was cast in 'The Wizard of Oz'. Eventually, she managed to look into His eyes. Eventually, her voice emerged once again, her words literally rushing out and she was not certain anymore if she even wanted to remain in this room. "I-I mean; I think Jeremy just called, and I really should go and see what he wants."

Andrew looked at his friend. "Christina, Jeremy didn't call you and you know it."

She looked at the angel. "I think you know that I'm so scared right now."

"He won't hurt you," Andrew said softly.

Christina took a deep breath. "I-I guess I should know that, but Andrew…" Her words failed her as she shook her head with disbelief, but sat down in the far corner of the room. "W-why are You here?"

The Father smiled as He came over to where Christina was sitting and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You have nothing to be afraid of, My child."

She nodded slowly. "Why do You pick now to show up?"

"There are people in your life as well as My angel who need both of you, and without one member of this special team, we have no chance of reaching the child who needs the most help," the Father said gently.

Christina looked at Him. "Y-You mean, Melanie Christianson?"

The Creator nodded. "Yes." He looked at Andrew, who was still regarding everything that was happening and He went over to the angel. "You are hurting, aren't you, Andrew?" He asked softly.

Andrew looked up at his Father with trembling lips and nodded.

"I sent you to that child for a reason, and right now, I'm going to help you help her," the Father said gently as He wrapped His healing arms around Andrew and Christina watched as Andrew collapsed in his Father's embrace and began to weep softly. As Andrew found healing in the arms of his Father, Christina took a deep breath before getting to her feet and hesitantly approaching them.

Once she reached them, she felt the Father's hand taking her own and pulling her into the embrace.

In the arms of her Creator and Andrew, she glanced up and spoke. "How can we help her?" Without thinking further, she spoke, her honest words filled with despondency. "Father, I'm so scared that I'm going to fail and I know that there is so much riding on this. I just can't get what happened with Ted Gordon out of my mind. I was driving home today and all I kept thinking about was him, even though this happened more than twenty years ago. Why is all this coming back to me?"

"I know, you're hurting, My child," the Father said softly. "Christina, in order for you and Andrew to help Melanie, you have to release the past. Give it to Me, and I will take care of that for you." His eyes were intent. "Melanie is a very frightened child and she will need all the confidence and understanding that you and Andrew can offer her."

"Why can't You go to her?" Christina asked softly. "I mean; You have a stronger impact than any of us and from what I understand, You're the only One who could help her find some semblance of peace."

"I will go to her in time, My child, but I want you and Andrew to help her find trust. She will need you to become the human contact, Christina, you are the chosen one to help her from the human perspective, and Andrew will be her angel. It has already been decided," came the gentle answer.

"Father, how can I get this child to trust me?" Andrew asked. "Christina said that she will not trust men, and my human form is a man."

"Yes, that is true, My angel, but she will need to find that trust or else she will have to come Home," the Father said gently.

Christina looked at Him. "You certainly know how to put on the pressure," she whispered sadly, her words still filled with her own mounting insecurity.

The Father chuckled, but smiled and nodded at her before disappearing.

She looked at Andrew. "H-He's gone."

"Not totally," Andrew said softly. "He's still with us, we just can't see Him."

The woman nodded as understanding overwhelmed her. "Do you feel any better, Andrew? Are you going be able to go back to your job?"

Andrew nodded and smiled weakly. "Yes, I have two assignments here, Melanie will have to work with both of us, Christina, but the one that I must work with is Jo Peterson." He took a deep breath. "Denise's concern for her friend holds relevance, because Jo is dying and she doesn't have much time left."

"Do you know how much time she has?" Christina asked softly.

The Angel of Death shook his head. "I don't know." He took a deep breath as he looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. "Christina, will you forgive me?"

"For what?" She asked.

The angel took a deep breath. "I pushed you away, and I know that I shouldn't have."

"Oh Andrew, I was never angry with you, I was hurt and confused, but I'm over that now," she smiled weakly as she wrapped her arms around him. "It would take a lot more than that to make me angry with you, besides we have had hard times before this and survived. You know, a real friendship takes the bumps in the road like it does with everything else."

The angel smiled as he looked at her, he could see that she was contemplating what had just happened, that God had been in her house in a physical sense and she was completely blown away by it. "Are you OK?" He eventually asked.

"God gave me an assignment, Andrew," she whispered. "I mean; now if I fail, I won't have just failed myself, I would have failed Him and I don't know if I can handle having done that."

Andrew smiled gently at his friend. "Christina, it should strengthen you to know that God is here, not weaken you." He touched the side of her face with his hand. "He knows that you're human, He made you and there is no way that you will ever be a disappointment to Him."

She nodded. "It's going to be hard, Melanie has been severely physically and sexually abused, but I know I have to try and now this has become even more severe than what I read about in a file, or heard about through Peter."

Andrew nodded as he stood up and started to walk towards the door. "You'll do fine, I have the utmost faith in you."

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"I need to talk to Denise, and apologize to her," Andrew said. "Do I still have a place to stay here?"

Christina smiled and nodded. "You always do, Andrew."

Once he had left the room she smiled and nodded all the while wondering if she should tell Jeremy about the Father's unexpected visit. After a few minutes she nodded realizing that the one person she needed to tell this to was her eldest daughter, Laura.

*****

At that moment, Denise was sprawled out on her bed. She had a few evening gown patterns on the bed, but she did not seem to care anymore. She was now staring outside the window. She had yet to close the blinds but seemed almost captivated by the dim glow of the outside street lamps that seemed to wind their way down the street, offering the small neighborhood a secure blanket of white light.

The lights cast an almost eerie glow through the front yard of her home, but as she sat there, she realized that she could not get the conversation with Andrew out of her mind, how lost he had looked, and yet she could not deny that there was something akin in his stance and in her own.

She glanced towards the window once again and then back down at the pattern across the comforter of her bed. She could not help but remember what had happened with Jo and how strong her friend had been, especially during the past few months. Glancing skyward, she started to speak, her anger directed at God. "You're going to take everyone away that I have ever loved, first my parents, then Patrick, and now my best friend." She whispered, her angry voice literally cutting the silence like a knife. "I hate You!"

As the words died on her lips, she could feel the tears streaming from beneath her eyes, all the while she could not stop remembering what had happened when Jo had collapsed at the community center. The teenage girl in the wheelchair had been volunteering there and was actively working on programs to help abused children.

Denise remembered how often she had wanted to meet with Jo and go to the mall after school to hang out, but Jo seemed to be more interested in doing this volunteer work, thus leaving Denise to feel completely out of the loop. Eventually, feeling as though she had not other options, Denise had gotten involved in this as well and now felt a better person for having done so even though she thought that initially she was doing it for the wrong reasons.

She crawled off the bed and went over to the mirror and could see a photograph of her and Jo from last Halloween. She and Jo had dressed up and hosted a Halloween carnival at the school. Half of the money that had been raised had been used to help finance a new computer lab for the school, but the other half had been donated to the child abuse prevention network there in town. It had been her and Jo's shining moment, but because of Jo's handicap, the media made her out to be the local hero, and Denise was starting to feel less and less important.

Nothing that had happened had been because if her, it was because Jo had worked so hard to get this going, she had spoken to the local PTA as well as community and civic leaders. It was through her hard work that she had been successful increasing community awareness of this problem.

One question, however, remained in Denise's conscious and that was, why did Jo suddenly want to start this project? Even after all the media attention, it was still not yet clear why it was that Jo had suddenly dropped everything and plunged herself into this issue.

Denise could clearly understand why it was that Laura was involved; after all, Laura had been abused as a little girl by her birth parents. Yet, through it all, Jo had never been abused, in fact, she seemed to have the most perfect family background.

Sighing sadly, she realized that there was probably very little that she could have actually done to ensure that Andrew would come back. Andrew was an angel of God, and he knew more than she did about what was happening around them. In the deepest recesses of her heart, she simply wanted it to be her prayer for Jo that had persuaded God to send him back. She had always been in the background, and today, even with the angels being present in her life, she was destined to remain unimportant and insignificant.

The angels were, after all, Christina's friends, not her own, and she was probably only considered to be friends with them by her association with her adopted mother and not by the things she did for others. Now, after talking to Andrew, she was completely convinced that Christina was far superior to her in God's eyes, and her disillusionment had quickly transformed itself into a deeply embedded resentment.

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and released it slowly, but within seconds, someone tapped softly on her door, and she looked up all the while shaking her head despondently not really wishing to see, much less speak with anyone.

Walking over to the door, she opened it and looked up to see that Andrew was now standing on the opposite side.

She could clearly see that the angel looked surprisingly better than he had when she had met him earlier in the hallway. It was probably because Christina had talked to him, she mused, but taking another look at him, she discovered that there was something almost apologetic about him. Instead of speaking, she backed away from the door and allowed him access to her room. Once he had come inside, she went over to the bed and sat down, her elbows now resting on her knees and she was looking down at the carpeted floor without saying a word.

Andrew watched this, but closed the door, came over, and sat down next to her. "Denise?" He spoke her name, thus causing her to briefly look up, but after a split second, her gaze returned to the floor. "I was just wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes."

"OK, shoot," she eventually whispered, her voice emotionless.

"Are you angry with me?" He asked softly.

"No, what makes you think that I am?" her answer was curt, bordering on sarcastic. Instead of responding to her words immediately, he took in her appearance all the while knowing that she was probably at a loss about what had transpired out in the hall.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he eventually offered, his apology causing her to look up again and within a few moments of glancing at various spots in her room, she glanced back over towards where he now sat.

"You didn't," she offered trying to keep a stiff upper lip.

"I didn't?" He asked her, and reached for her hand. Once he held it firmly, but gently in his own, he looked at her, his eyes serene. "Denise, I made some mistakes, I know it and you know it as well. I'm sorry about what happened out in the hallway. Would you believe me if I told you I haven't been myself lately?"

She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. "I don't know what to believe anymore, but out there I think you said everything you intended, and it's obvious that I can't count on you to help Jo any more than I can count on you to help me," she said.

"Of course you can," Andrew said softly. "I know I hurt you, I realize that now, and if you want me to, I'll tell you what happened, I just didn't know if it would have been the best thing for me to have done. You see, I told Christina about it, and she's devastated. I just didn't want to hurt you, too," the angel said softly.

Denise sighed deeply as she looked at the magazine that was placed on her bed. "You did though, I mean, not just because you didn't want to talk to me, that point you made perfectly clear. Right now, I'm just convinced that the only reason you are here now is because someone told you or made you come talk to me, not because you really wanted to."

"That's not true," Andrew objected.

"Then why are you here?" She asked with pain in her eyes. "Let me guess, just to give me another of those sweet 'angel to human talks'."

"In part you're right, I am here because I have to be here, the Father has sent me," he said softly. "I also wanted to tell you that you were right with what you said earlier."

"I was?" She looked at him.

Andrew nodded sadly. "Yes, you were, you know what will happen to your friend, Jo. You realized this last week after what happened, and you do know that she's dying, Denise."

The teenager nodded as she stared down at her lap, the tears brimming from beneath her unhappy eyes. "She's just a girl, why does God want to take her away? I think that's really mean of Him."

"It's not mean, sweetheart, the Father just doesn't want to see her suffer any more than He would have wanted Patrick to be in pain," Andrew said gently as he reached over and touched the side of her face. "Denise, do you hate me for what I have to do?"

Denise looked down at the ground, but after a few moments, she nodded sadly. "I shouldn't and a part of me doesn't, but Andrew, you took Patrick away, and now you're going to take my best friend away, too. I don't know what I'll do when Jo dies, she's the only person who really understands me, I don't even think Dawn understands me anymore, and she's my sister. I mean; I am going to the prom without a date, and I was going to go with Jo so we could hang out together. This was sort of my consolation for being completely unappealing. I mean, if I was, then a boy would have actually asked me out."

"You're not unappealing, Denise, don't judge yourself like that," Andrew objected.

"Well, I don't see a line of guys at my door wanting to ask me out, so what am I supposed to believe?" She asked, but without waiting for him to say something further, she shook her head. "Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore, because after what happened last week at the community center and then seeing you here…I know what's going to happen." her voice trailed off and she looked at him, the tears streaming down over her cheeks.

Andrew looked at her completely at a loss as to what to say. "I know this is hard, Denise," he offered.

"No, you don't. You only show up when someone dies. You were here when Patrick was sick, then when Simon died, but you disappeared after Laura's wedding. I mean; you probably don't care that Jo is dying, that my best friend actually helps abused children at the community center. It is totally unimportant to you and probably to God that she volunteers at the center instead of doing stuff with me…I mean…"

Andrew looked at her somewhat taken aback by her bold statement. "You don't think God wants to help her?"

"No, and I don't think He wants to help me either," she said softly.

Andrew nodded as understanding overwhelmed him. "You're lonely."

"Yeah," she whispered. "I am not as good at making friends as Dawn is. I never was, and now…" She shook her head. "Oh forget it."

"I won't forget it, Denise," he whispered. "Please, talk to me."

"Why should I?" She asked bitingly. "So you can tell me how wrong I'm being, or how foolish I am for feeling this way? Or wait, or is it you can tell me just what a loving God we have who deserves all our praise and adoration when He is the reason we experience so much pain in the first place."

Andrew took a staggering breath as he started to get to his feet. "I think you are angry that I am here and anything I say, you will misinterpret, so maybe I should go. But, you are wrong, God is love, Denise, and He will help both you and Jo, just as I will, if you let us."

"Why should I believe that God cares?" Denise spat out. "Maybe Pastor Stevens was right, maybe God doesn't love us, we're probably just pawns in the great big universal chess match." She got up and without turning back to look at him, she walked out of the room leaving him staring after her.

Within seconds, the angel had gotten to his feet and followed her. "Denise, please wait, I need to explain."

When she heard him, she stopped and turned around. "OK, then explain to me why you are too selfish to see that Jo needs help. She's the one trying to help abused children; she's the one who should be looked upon by God in great favor. I haven't done anything that can be compared to what Jo or Patrick have done. Jo is going to die, and all that she has ever done was to care for other people. I'm just fading into the stinking background and all I'm good for is to go along with the crowd." Her words emerged biting and sarcastic.

"Do you really believe that?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah, all I am is a stupid wallflower," she snapped.

"You aren't just a wallflower, Denise."

"Then what am I? God only answers the prayers of special people like Dawn, who wants a date for the stupid prom, or Jo, who is so noble that people would be sickened by it. Yet, I'm absolutely nothing, it's always been this way and probably always will be." She turned and walked away. "Furthermore, I don't believe in God anymore, at least not the God that you talk about because right now, after what has happened, I'm convinced that He could care less about me."

With that she went back into her room and slammed the bedroom with a force that shook the foundations of the small split-level house.

Seconds later, Dawn came out of her room. "What on earth is her problem?" The girl muttered, but when she saw that Andrew was starting to walk towards the stairs, she called out to him. "Andrew, please don't go. I overheard only a part of that, but the stuff about Old man Stevens was not right. She doesn't believe that anymore than I would."

The angel stopped and turned to face her. "I don't know what else I could do."

"I don't know either," she whispered. "Tell me something, tell me that everything is going to be OK, that I shouldn't worry about her, that she's just having a hard time."

Andrew came over and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I wish I could tell you all of those things, not just because you want me to tell you but because I wish they were too, but I can't lie to you any more than I could to myself."

Dawn nodded dejectedly, her worry-filled gaze on the floor.

Andrew, as if propelled by adrenaline alone pulled her gently into his arms. There, he could feel her body collapsing in his embrace. Seconds later, he took her face in his hands, lifted it gently, and looked in her eyes, all the while seeing the tears in her eyes. "Just let this out, Dawn," he whispered gently.

She nodded as she began to weep softly and buried her face against his chest, her sobs getting the better of her and she allowed herself to cry in the arms of the angel. "I don't know what to do, Andrew," she wept softly. "Please help me."

The angel brushed his hand gently through her hair. "I don't know how much I can do for you, Dawn, but I will do whatever I am able to, I think you know that," he whispered.

"If only Jo could go and hang out with Denise at the prom, but none of us think she will make it. She's getting weaker and weaker, and Denise and I both know why you're here."

Andrew nodded, "I'm not just here to take her home," he offered weakly.

"Then maybe you could help her find a date or something," Dawn asked softly. "I mean, I know that sounds stupid, but no one should have to go to the prom alone and this almost makes me feel guilty for actually having a date."

"I don't know how, right now, Denise won't speak to me," Andrew said softly, but maybe that will change somehow. Andrew said softly as their embrace ended and he followed her down the stairs. After everything that had happened, he was simply not sure if it was such a good idea for him to tell either Dawn or Denise that the Father was there and that Christina had seen and spoken with Him.

Please Father, do something to help Denise, he prayed silently as they reached the landing and joined the family in the living room.

Seconds later, he could hear the Father's voice once again filtering through his conscious, and his Creator's voice was as clear as crystal. Leave Denise to me, My angel, I already have a plan.

Smiling weakly, he nodded.

*****

At that moment, Laura and Sebastian Jensen were just sitting down to dinner when the phone rang in the front hall of their cozy apartment. Laura looked at her husband. "We're you expecting a call?" She asked all the while knowing that Sebastian's art students often called him for help on projects at the most inopportune times.

"No," he said as he dug his fork into the salad that was in a nearby bowl. "Can you get it, Schatz?" he asked using his usual German terms of endearment when speaking with her. "I'm completely famished."

"Sure, honey," she smiled as she put her napkin back on the table. "Go ahead and eat, I'll be back in a few minutes." She walked down the hall and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Laura, it's me," she could hear her mother's voice on the other end and she shouted down the hall to her husband so that he would know that Christina was the person calling.

"What's up, Mom? We just sat down to eat," she said.

"Andrew's back, honey," Christina said.

"Really? How long has it been, like four years or something?" Laura's voice was suddenly filled with excitement as she heard her mother's voice. When the tone of Christina's voice didn't change, Laura spoke. "Mom, what's going on, you sound like death warmed over?"

"If Andrew heard you talking like that, he'd have a heart attack," Sebastian's voice was audible and Laura sighed deeply, but she could hear her mother's soft laughter on the other end of the line.

"I take it you heard him, he's trying to break into sarcastic comedy," Laura said smiling weakly, but diverting her attention back to the call. "OK, what's going on?"

"He's here because of a little girl that will be in my care tomorrow," Christina responded and Laura nodded as her voice continued. "I will be taking the case of a child who has been severely sexually abused."

"Oh man, I'm so sorry, Mom," Laura offered. "Jo Peterson and I have been trying to get the abuse awareness group going at the community center, and it looks as though people would rather shove it under the rug than face it. Now, we have a lot of trouble with local church groups who are trying to shove off their moral standards on us. The civic leaders and the PTA are biting, but the churches seem to think that as long as we avoid it, then it will go away. What's the kid's name, anyway?"

"Melanie," came the soft answer.

"Christianson?" Laura asked.

"How'd you know?" Christina asked.

"Well aside from hearing the story being literally being run into the ground, maybe you should talk to Sebastian," Laura said. "He was the one who tipped the police about what had been happening." She motioned towards her husband, who came over to her and wrapped her in his arms. "Would you tell my mom what you told me?" She asked weakly as she looked up at him.

Sebastian nodded and took the phone. "Hello Christina," he said softly. "I guess you want to know what happened, huh?"

"What was it?" Christina asked.

"I had gone into the bathroom between classes and there was a boy in there who was running water over some bruises he had on his skin. As I came in, he saw me and started to scream, pleading with me not to hurt him."

"Maybe you guys should just come over here, and we can talk about all of this together," Christina eventually suggested. "There has been so much that has happened today that I think it would be better if we discussed it face to face."

The young German nodded. "OK, but let us eat something first, and then we'll come in about half an hour. Is that alright?"

"Yes, we'll see you then," Christina said softly and hung up the phone.

As he did the same, he looked at Laura. "We have to go see your parents tonight, Schatz, something has happened."

Laura smiled and nodded. "Do you know how much I love it when you call me 'sweetie' in German?"

Sebastian smiled. "I'd hug and kiss you but I'm starving, let's eat something and then get over to your parents' place. I have a strange feeling that something else is about to happen and it is not good."

"I guess so," Laura whispered, "because Andrew's back."

"Andrew, but what's he doing here?" Sebastian shook his head in disbelief as they went back into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"She didn't say a lot, I suppose that this all has something to do with what you started to tell my mom," Laura said as they sat back down at the table, her appetite gone. "So, what are we going to do?"

"I suppose we should start by eating and then getting out of here," Sebastian said shrugging his shoulders. When he saw that his wife was staring down at the tabletop without even touching the salad, he reached over and touched her shoulder. "Are you OK?"

Laura shook her head. "I know this sounds weird, but I'm afraid. I mean; I keep thinking about Jo Peterson. She has been at the center for about a year now, but over the last few weeks, she has not been looking well at all. It just seems like with Andrew being here, I somehow think that her days are numbered. Do you think she'll be able to go to the prom?"

"I don't know," Sebastian said as they sat down at the table. He started poking his salad, but after a few moments, he could tell that Laura was completely consumed with sadness and he knew that the best thing they could do was to get over to Christina and Jeremy's as soon as possible. "Maybe we should go now," he suggested. "We can grab something on our way over and then at least we can eat together."

Laura shook her head. "That sounds fine and good, but you need to eat, Sebastian."

"I know, but what if I were to tell you that I was just as nervous about all of this as you are?" He asked softly and looked at her, his eyes intent. "You believe me, don't you?"

Laura cracked a smile and nodded. "Yeah, I think I do, but that's only becaus