Chapter 3
Andrew strode downstairs in a T-shirt and shorts as he rubbed the morning sleep from his tired eyes. The gentle, golden glow of the June sun crept across the stairway through the side window as he made his way down toward the kitchen. Andrew, Monica and Tess were staying here on assignment. It was a beautiful, cozy house in Salt Lake City and it looked even more beautiful in the soft, fiery light of the sunrise.
But as Andrew stepped foot down into the kitchen, he wasn't sure if he was surprised or not to find his best friend sitting at the kitchen table, all dressed and ready for the day. But she didn't look ready for the day at all. Sure, she was dressed cleanly in a T-shirt and jeans and her long, ginger hair was brushed and hung straight and silky down her back, but her angelic face held the heavy weight of sorrow in it as she sat there, staring down at some photo she held between her hands.
Knowing full well what this was about, Andrew sighed remorsefully and made his way over to her side, glancing over her shoulder only to find exactly what he expected on the photo paper. "I was hoping you wouldn't remember." He murmured quietly in a voice barely above a whisper as seated himself in the chair beside her. But then Monica glanced up at her friend with her honey-brown eyes glazed over with inner pain and sadness. "Andrew, how could I not remember? Today's her eighth birthday and I don't even know what she looks like!" She proclaimed as tears leapt into her hazel eyes like crickets that had just been frightened enough to jump forward.
Andrew pasted on a sympathetic expression as he placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know Monica. I know. Sometimes I wonder about that sort of thing myself." He told her earnestly as he shifted his gaze from her pretty face to the picture in her hands. She then noted him glancing at it and held it up with another sigh. "I mean, just look at her. She's so beautiful." She stated simply as a single tear rolled over her angelic features. On the photo paper before them was printed a picture depicting Monica eight years ago, laying in a hospital bed not far from here. Her expression was exhausted but clearly overwhelmed with joy as, in her arms, she held a tiny bundle. A baby girl named Eliza.
Andrew nodded in understanding as he recalled that long, agonizing night for both of them. "I know. I was there, remember? I saw her. I held her." He reminded her gently as he never took his eyes off of the old photo. It was the only photo they had of Eliza. After all, she wasn't really Monica's daughter. She was biologically, of course, but legally, she was Abby and Mike's child. Still, Monica couldn't help wondering what she was like. Who she was.
"I mean, I never even saw her after the day she was born. Do you think she has my…my eyes or…or my smile?" She ventured as another tear found it's way down her cheeks, pulling different features off of the top of her head randomly. But Andrew only smiled reassuringly and nodded with such confidence that Monica had no reason to doubt his opinion. "Monica, listen to me." He placed his fingertips gently beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his before continuing. "I don't think she has your eyes or your smile. I know she has your eyes and your smile. When I held her that night, after you were asleep, she opened her eyes and looked up at me…and then she smiled, and I couldn't believe it. She looked so much like you that the resemblance brought tears to my eyes." He told her honestly as he stared back at her with such love and pride that it convinced Monica all the way and she threw herself forward into his embrace and sobbed deeply into his shoulder, clearly overwhelmed by his kind words.
He held her against him for a long moment, allowing her to cry into his shirt as he kissed the top of her head affectionately. Finally, they pulled apart again and Andrew smiled back at her with such care in his blue-green eyes that it caused her heart to melt. "Are you going to be okay?" He questioned tenderly as he placed his hand on the side of her face and gently brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. She then quickly forced herself to pull together and nodded only half-truly as she stood up from her seat. "Yes. Thank you Andrew. I think I'll just go for a walk. I'll be back later." She told him in return as she headed for the front door and disappeared out onto the porch as the door closed quietly behind her.
Andrew watched her go and sighed sorrowfully when she was gone. He then leaned over the kitchen table and stared down at the photo she had left behind. Oh how he remembered that night so well. It had been very difficult for him as well as Monica. She had been in so much pain for so long and he had been right there by her side the whole time, holding her hand and telling her that she was doing great. He remembered how badly he wanted to help her. To take the pain away and he couldn't. But then he remembered seeing Eliza for the first time and the pride he had felt for his friend was overwhelming as he looked at the little girl. Monica was right. She was beautiful and he would never forget the feeling of that moment when he was holding her and she smiled up at him with that cute little face. It was a miracle. He hadn't said anything in front of the Tuckers of course, but she was gorgeous and looked exactly like Monica.
But just then, the Angel of Death was torn from his thoughts as his supervisor's deep voice ripped through his musings. "She's not here is she Angel Boy?" Tess confirmed with an easy guess as she strode across the kitchen to sit next to Andrew. Andrew shook his head in confirmation and nodded toward the front door. "Nah, she wanted to be alone. She went for a walk." He informed her quietly as he studied the table beneath his folded hands in obvious dismay. Tess sighed as well now and reached across the table, taking the emotional stressing picture in her hands.
"It's been eight years, but not long enough I guess." She went on gently as she stared at the photo as the other two had only moments earlier. But Andrew was surprised at his supervisor's lack of emotion toward the situation and suddenly recalled her similar reaction that night eight years ago. She had looked at Eliza once and smiled appreciatively, but she had taken more interest in her own trainee than the baby.
"Tess, don't you even wonder what she looks like or what her favorite food is or if she has red hair or…anything?" Andrew demanded, though he still managed to keep a gentle tone with her as he spoke. But, none to his surprise, Tess only shook her head stubbornly. "No, I believe what's past is past. Monica's assignment was to help the Tuckers and that was what she did. Eliza has nothing to do with us anymore. She is Abby and Mike's daughter and that is that." She retorted sharply, though the statement seemed to trigger a sudden, unexpected emotion in Andrew and he opened his mouth to snap back, but just then, as if sent to stop him, the tone of the doorbell tolled throughout the house.
Tess shot Andrew an expectant glance and he thought briefly of saying something before going to answer the door, but the expression on his supervisor's face sent up a little red warning flag in his mind and he instead stood and headed toward the front door. Upon opening it, Andrew's eyes fell upon a young girl standing alone on their porch. She looked frightened and lonely and Andrew couldn't help but let his heart melt at the sight. She looked around eight years old with waist-length red-gold hair and those eyes. Wait. Where had Andrew seen those eyes before? They were so…familiar. As if he saw them every day but he knew he had never met this little girl before…had he? There was definitely something about those eyes. Deep, honey-brown and held such beauty and grace within. Like an angel.
"Is Monica here?" She asked in a tiny, timid voice as she looked up at the angel. But Andrew snapped himself away from his thoughts once more and shook his head regretfully. "Uh, no, sorry you just missed her. But maybe I can help you with something. What's your name sweetheart?"