Part 1 (2/2)
”Yes.”
”I don't want to get him sick.”
”Are you sure?”
Prissie's chin lifted stubbornly. ”Yes.”
”Get some rest, then,” Mrs. Pomeroy encouraged. ”My folks are going along to the rehearsal tonight, so once the house is quiet, I'll bring up a tray. Sound good?”
”I guess,” Prissie sighed. ”Thanks, Momma.”
Her maternal grandparents had been visiting since just before Thanksgiving. Grandpa Carl and Grammie Esme's RV was parked next to the apple barn, but they were staying in the spare room at Grandpa Pete and Grandma Nell's house. Grandpa Carl said they would stick around until after the annual production of Handel's Messiah, then they would follow the s...o...b..rds south for the winter.
The Christmas concert was only a couple weeks away, and excitement was building. This year, the decision had been made to mix things up a bit by doing a modern twist on the cla.s.sic. Grandpa Pete, who'd been singing with the ba.s.s section for forty years, had been suspicious about the introduction of drums and electric guitars to the orchestra, but it cheered him immensely that two of his grandsons had joined the choir this year.
Prissie was actually just as excited about the upcoming concert, mostly because Milo was taking part for the first time. He'd been coaxed into it by his good friend Baird, another angel-in-disguise who led wors.h.i.+p at a church down in Harper.
At some point, Prissie must have drifted off because she was roused from a fitful doze by the rattle of dishes and shuffle of feet. Lifting her head from her pillow, she squinted into the light from the hallway while Koji carefully maneuvered through the door with a tray of food. ”Why didn't you go to rehearsal?” she asked in surprise.
”Your mother says this goes on your lap,” the boy announced, putting off his answer. ”Sit up, please.”
Prissie reached across to flick on her bedside lamp, then did as she was bidden. Koji set the tray before her and sat down at the foot of the bed. ”This is the first time I have prepared food for someone. Please, eat it.”
”You cooked?”
Koji's happiness came through loud and clear. ”I did!”
”Did you have fun?”
”Your mother was very encouraging,” he replied seriously. ”I hope it will be satisfying.”
Prissie dutifully picked up her fork and tasted the scrambled eggs, then took a bite of cinnamon toast. ”It's good,” she a.s.sured with a small smile. ”Thank you.”
He nodded, then addressed her initial question. ”I remained behind because you are here.”
”You shouldn't have to miss out just because I'm sick,” Prissie said. ”Rehearsals are one of the only times you get to see Harken, Baird, and Kester!”
Dark eyes gazed steadily into hers, as if he was trying to figure out what she meant by what she said. Finally, Koji asked, ”Have you forgotten your promise?”
Nibbling at her toast, Prissie replied, ”No, of course I remember.” Back in October, the young angel had been given permission to secure a promise from her. She'd given her word not to wander off by herself. It was almost as if the young Observer was trying to be her second guardian angel. ”I've kept my promise too!”
”You have,” he agreed. ”In a covenant of this nature, we both have a promise to keep.”
That hadn't occurred to her. ”So when I promised to stay with you, you were also promising to stay with me?”
”Indeed.”
Prissie poked at her dinner and murmured, ”I'm sorry.”
”Why?”
”Because you're stuck with me, I guess.”
Koji blinked. ”This is where I want to be.”
”But what if you wanted to do something else?”
He calmly replied, ”There is nothing else I wish to do.”
”But if you did!”
”Do you still not understand?” he asked, the hint of a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.
”I guess not,” she grumbled, but at the same time, she was very glad. It was completely like Koji to take a promise seriously. He'd been a faithful friend from the very beginning, a fact that warmed her heart. ”But that's okay, right?”
With a smile that lived up to the description angelic, Koji repeated, ”Indeed.”
”It is late,” Koji whispered. The rest of the household was completely still when he tiptoed back to her room. ”You need to sleep.”
”I slept all day,” Prissie complained. ”I'm not tired.”
With a soft hum, he knelt beside her bed, and his fingers brushed across the back of her hand. ”What does sickness feel like?”
”Bad.”
”I can see that you are uncomfortable.” He gently fitted his hand into hers and asked, ”What else?”
Prissie sighed, but at least Koji's curiosity provided a distraction. Staring up at the ceiling, she replied, ”When you're sick, it's like everything goes wrong. I felt weak, dizzy, achy. One minute, I was too hot, and the next, I was s.h.i.+vering. Now, I just feel blah.”
”What does blah mean?” he asked curiously.
”Bored, restless, and very tired of being sick,” she replied moodily.
”Tired, but not sleepy,” he mused aloud. ”You long for rest and cannot find it.”
”Yes. And it doesn't help knowing that everyone's waiting for me to fall asleep.”
”Time is of no consequence.” Koji tipped his head to one side and said, ”I am permitted to offer a suggestion.”
”Permitted?” she echoed, rolling onto her side to face him. It still struck her as strange that he sometimes received instructions directly from heaven ... or from his teammates.
Koji nodded. ”Harken says that Marcus says that you are forgetting something he already told you.”
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