Read When Angels Cry for Free Online

gaze but instead star ed at the tray she ’d offered.  As he ’d accepted it, she ’d glanced at his left hand : no wedding ring.  Even then, without knowing him, she’d been drawn to him, curious about his silence and the darkness that had lain draped upon his shoulders like a black leather duster.  She’d wondered what he was like, what his voice would sound like when he spoke her name.  Now she knew his voice.  Still, it wasn’t enough.
    She pulled off the cover and darted into the entryway where she flung open the door, only to find her driveway empty , as though he’d never been there at all .  A thick snow had erased all tracks, and more flakes now drifted steadily from the grey heavens.  Some of them landed in her hair, on her clothes, and atop her bare feet. As a northern breeze kissed her skin, and it blew her hair back from her face.  The harsh air cut through her clothes, hardening her nipples.  She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to remember what Bastian’s truck had looked like.  She knew it was a truck, yeah, but the rest of the details had vanished.
    “You only rode home in it yesterday, ” she muttered.
      Despite the harsh temperature, Kaylee lingered in the doorway ,   half-expect ing Bastian would re-appear.  Snowflakes lifted and swirled, forming miniature white tornados before resettling atop a vast white blanket , falling on her skin and in her hair just as it had two nights ago.
    Kaylee brushed the hair from her face and as she lowered her hand .  S he saw her fingers turning pale in the cold.  S hivering, she backed into the foyer.  With one last glance, she closed the door and leaned against it.   With her left hand, she touched her temple, trying to massage away the pain , and finally slunk back to the couch where she plunked into the soft cradle of cushions, nestling her head amid their embrace.
    “There’s no point in sleeping away the day.”  Perhaps she could forget the headache, but she doubted it would ever forget her ; it was simply a part of a bigger picture.  She stood and shuffled to the corner, where an easel stood, holding an unfinished painting of a boat ambling calmly along as the sun sank in the distance.  Kaylee went to the kitchen , filled her palette, and carried it back to the easel.
    With a heavy sigh, she dabbed the orange and stroked a piece of sky onto the canvas.  She kept brushing in the heavens, mixing pink in the clouds and puffing out whiteness until the sky appeared three-dimensional.  As Kaylee rinsed her brush in the cup on the table, she heard the doorbell ring.
    “Today isn’t a good day, Rosie,” she muttered, thinking of her friend probably now standing on t he front porch, waiting to ask a million questions and hover.  She’d want to know why Kaylee hadn’t shown up for volunteer work. Kaylee stared at her artwork, swirled her brush in the water, and began to p ack away her supplies. 
    Damn.  Why had she ever told Rosie about her cancer?  The last thing Kaylee wanted was a second mother.   The doorbell rang again.  Kaylee picked up the cup of dirty paint water and walked to the kitchen.  As she dumped the liquid down the drain, Kaylee heard the third chime.  Ignoring it, she rinsed the brush and, laid it on a folded paper towel to dry.
    Kaylee turned to get the kettle when her vision clouded, forcing her to grab , the counter to maintain her balance , and h er vision quickly dim med into blackness.  She thrust her arms in front of her and felt along the walls until she found the doorway.  As she fumbled through the darkness, she ran into something solid.
    “Don’t you ever answer your door?”  A hand touched her arm.
    “I thought you were somebody else.”  Kaylee tried to look up to find a face to go with the voice, but her thoughts were scrambled.  She knew that voice and closed her eyes, focusing on it.  Bastian.  It was Bastian.
    “Should I leave?”
    Kaylee tried to brush past him but instead