Nephilim: Children of Angels

24: I LOVE YOU

"May I call my dad, Janine?" I request respectfully, unable to meet her gaze.

"Of course. Let's go." She responds professionally, to my relief. At least she isn't holding a grudge over me shooting her.

I follow her out to the lobby area and into the small room where I had changed when I first got here. There's a phone on a small table in the corner I hadn't paid much attention to. She opens the drawer in the front of the small table and flips through a few papers there. She hands me one with my dad's handwriting on it. I stare at the familiar scribe.

"I will be right outside when you're done." She says before walking out and closing the door behind her.

The paper has my dad's name and phone number written on it in his tiny precise hand. Below it is my grandma, on my dad's side, number, below that my aunt's, his sister. I didn't even know I missed my grandma until this moment. My mom's family live in Arizona, where she's from, so we spent every holiday at my grandparents. My grandma always did her best to make the holidays special for us. She didn't care for my mother much, though and wasn't quiet about it. After my grandpa passed, we went less and less. I wonder what she thinks of what I did. Tears roll down my cheeks, landing on the paper. What my whole family thinks.

................

Grandma wrapped my dad and I in her warm embrace, pulling us into her cozy house that always seemed to smell of confectionary.

"No Barbra?" Grandma questioned once she had us inside, her normally joyful face wrinkling with concern.

Hillary sat at the kitchen island, attempting to crack open a nut with the side of her fist. She perked up at my grandmother's question. Slipping from her perch she approached us with a sickly-sweet smile.

"No, mom." Dad replied tight lipped, hanging our coats on the wall.

"Merry Christmas, Uncle James. Hi, Sara." Hillary greeted, taking my small five-year-old hand in her larger twelve-year-old one. "Come on. Let's play a game." She skipped, leading me into the family room, away from the adults increasingly tense conversation.

She pulled me into the family room where my other cousins were playing. "We're playing a game. Everyone, sit in a circle." Hillary ordered, picking up my youngest cousin, Milly and plopping her down on the ground. The one-year-old tried to crawl away but Hillary pulled her back in her place, admonishing her.

Tommy and Lucy, the twins, who were only a year older than I, did as Hillary ordered, quickly taking their place.

Jelly ignored Hillary, keeping her nose in a book.

"Come on, Jelly. Everyone has to play." Jelly sighed, placing the book beside her. She knew there was no use defying Hillary. We were a spectacle. Sitting on the floor in our Christmas best. At least that is what grandma would have said.

"Angel." Hillary announced while tapping Milly on her head. Milly giggled, taking her Santa teether from her mouth, attempting to grab at Hillary's hand, to replace it.

"Angel." Hillary said, thumping Jelly on the head, earning a whine of protest and a glare from the eight-year-old girl with brown eyes, hair, and freckles.

"Angel." Hillary continued, mussing Lucy's hair, causing her blond pigtails to go uneven. Lucy crossed her arms over her sequined chest, pouting her pink glossy lips.

"Angel." Hillary growled, giving her brother a noogie that caused him to flail, his Christmas suit becoming more mussed than it already was.