Monica looked at Andrew from her seat in the car. Tess had suggested that they take Amy to the museum for the day, and try to take her mind off of the things that were bothering her. She sighed, thinking about how different he'd been acting. And then there was that conversation she'd had with Amy last week…
"Monica, how long have you known Andrew?"
"A long time. Long time."
"Have you ever, uh…" Amy elbowed her playfully.
"Amy, Amy, Andrew and I have been friends for a long time."
"I know, but—don't you think he's cute?"
"He has a beautiful heart." She's felt safe enough there.
"And the outside's not bad either." Amy had said slyly.
"Amy, what brought this on?"
"Haven't you seen the way he's been looking at you?"
"No…"
"Monica, dear, I'm going to have to help you, here…"
Andrew looked back. "Monica? You coming?"
"Yes. Yes, I'm coming." She hurried to catch up, and just as she was about to stop, Andrew reached out and grabbed her hand. She looked up at him, and he looked as startled as she did. But he simply smiled at her, squeezed her fingers with his, and they kept walking, hand in hand.
Amy followed, grinning like mad.
"Andrew, Andrew, Andrew…" Amy said, smiling at him. It was midway through the day, and she had asked if they could sit down and give her knees a rest. "You are positively glowing." He looked down, startled. "Oh—no, no." She giggled. "Not that way. I mean, you were looking at Monica. You should've seen the look on your face."
Andrew got up, running a hand through his hair. He looked upset. "Amy…"
"Oh my God, you're an angel." She slumped back against the bench. "Andrew…"
"Monica is an angel too." He said. "So is Tess. I should've told you before. I don't know why my mind is so… clouded now."
"She feels the same way about you." Amy said, getting up and facing him. Monica was still fifteen feet away, looking bemusedly at a picture of an angel with mile-long wings and a golden halo. "Can't you—"
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Andrew folded his hands in a gesture of submission. "But I know that if this is what God intends for us, then it's going to be all right. If not… we're angels. We do what He says. He doesn't tell us His plan until the right time."
Amy nodded. "You love her, don't you?"
Andrew smiled, eyes tearing slightly. "Yeah. Yes, I do."
"Maybe I should leave you here." Amy said, motioning to the bench. "Maybe Monica and I should go to the little angels' room. Maybe I could get locked in a stall for a half hour. Maybe you and God should have a little chat."
Andrew smiled. "I think that's a good idea."
"Good." Amy touched his arm and walked away. Soon she was leading Monica to the farthest restroom from where they were, and Andrew was alone.
"Father…" He sighed. 'Father, I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. You know I always try to do Your will, but I'm lost on this one. Is there precedent for this? Are we supposed to make this the precedent? I don't want to fail you, but I don't know what to do…'
"You're doing it." Phil flopped down next to him. "Andrew, my boy, I have been to not one—not two—not three, but four museums in this wonderful city, and not one of them was the right one. So I asked the Father, I said 'Heavenly Father, I am lost. Again. So if You would be so kind as to point me in the right direction, I would be vastly appreciative.' And I followed my heart here. And now I am going to repeat a few pieces of advice that I have given you before."
"Follow my heart." Andrew said quietly, feeling surer than ever that God was giving him and Monica special permission to do something that had never been done before.
"Good man! Ah, now, your female friends are returning, I see, so I think I'll just vanish into the crowd or something… perhaps seek out a souvenir store…" He walked off in the general direction of the exit.
"Phil." Andrew took the man's arm and turned him around, pointing him in the right direction.
"Andrew?" Monica came up. "What was Phil doing here?"
Amy looked at Andrew closely and almost squealed. "Um—hey, can we go home now, guys? I just remembered—I have—homework… and, uh… I should—do it. Today. Now."
Monica looked at Andrew. "Ok…"
"All right." Andrew walked with Monica back to the car, whispering in her ear. "When we get back, though, you and I have to talk."
"Monica, how long have you known Andrew?"
"A long time. Long time."
"Have you ever, uh…" Amy elbowed her playfully.
"Amy, Amy, Andrew and I have been friends for a long time."
"I know, but—don't you think he's cute?"
"He has a beautiful heart." She's felt safe enough there.
"And the outside's not bad either." Amy had said slyly.
"Amy, what brought this on?"
"Haven't you seen the way he's been looking at you?"
"No…"
"Monica, dear, I'm going to have to help you, here…"
Andrew looked back. "Monica? You coming?"
"Yes. Yes, I'm coming." She hurried to catch up, and just as she was about to stop, Andrew reached out and grabbed her hand. She looked up at him, and he looked as startled as she did. But he simply smiled at her, squeezed her fingers with his, and they kept walking, hand in hand.
Amy followed, grinning like mad.
"Andrew, Andrew, Andrew…" Amy said, smiling at him. It was midway through the day, and she had asked if they could sit down and give her knees a rest. "You are positively glowing." He looked down, startled. "Oh—no, no." She giggled. "Not that way. I mean, you were looking at Monica. You should've seen the look on your face."
Andrew got up, running a hand through his hair. He looked upset. "Amy…"
"Oh my God, you're an angel." She slumped back against the bench. "Andrew…"
"Monica is an angel too." He said. "So is Tess. I should've told you before. I don't know why my mind is so… clouded now."
"She feels the same way about you." Amy said, getting up and facing him. Monica was still fifteen feet away, looking bemusedly at a picture of an angel with mile-long wings and a golden halo. "Can't you—"
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Andrew folded his hands in a gesture of submission. "But I know that if this is what God intends for us, then it's going to be all right. If not… we're angels. We do what He says. He doesn't tell us His plan until the right time."
Amy nodded. "You love her, don't you?"
Andrew smiled, eyes tearing slightly. "Yeah. Yes, I do."
"Maybe I should leave you here." Amy said, motioning to the bench. "Maybe Monica and I should go to the little angels' room. Maybe I could get locked in a stall for a half hour. Maybe you and God should have a little chat."
Andrew smiled. "I think that's a good idea."
"Good." Amy touched his arm and walked away. Soon she was leading Monica to the farthest restroom from where they were, and Andrew was alone.
"Father…" He sighed. 'Father, I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. You know I always try to do Your will, but I'm lost on this one. Is there precedent for this? Are we supposed to make this the precedent? I don't want to fail you, but I don't know what to do…'
"You're doing it." Phil flopped down next to him. "Andrew, my boy, I have been to not one—not two—not three, but four museums in this wonderful city, and not one of them was the right one. So I asked the Father, I said 'Heavenly Father, I am lost. Again. So if You would be so kind as to point me in the right direction, I would be vastly appreciative.' And I followed my heart here. And now I am going to repeat a few pieces of advice that I have given you before."
"Follow my heart." Andrew said quietly, feeling surer than ever that God was giving him and Monica special permission to do something that had never been done before.
"Good man! Ah, now, your female friends are returning, I see, so I think I'll just vanish into the crowd or something… perhaps seek out a souvenir store…" He walked off in the general direction of the exit.
"Phil." Andrew took the man's arm and turned him around, pointing him in the right direction.
"Andrew?" Monica came up. "What was Phil doing here?"
Amy looked at Andrew closely and almost squealed. "Um—hey, can we go home now, guys? I just remembered—I have—homework… and, uh… I should—do it. Today. Now."
Monica looked at Andrew. "Ok…"
"All right." Andrew walked with Monica back to the car, whispering in her ear. "When we get back, though, you and I have to talk."
