The Impact (Book II)

The Taylor's

I stirred the linguine one more time and managed to separate one on the spoon. Bringing the spoon up to my lips, I ate it and decided it was ready. The sound of feet jumping on the wooden floorboards reached my tapered ears as I moved from the boiling pot of linguine to check on the garlic bread in the oven. From the scents in the living room, I knew it was Emily and Zach. Heat hit my face as well as the strong smell of garlic when I opened the oven. Glancing at the bread, I noted its golden brown appearance. It was also ready. Grabbing the oven mitt, I slid it onto my left hand and grabbed the tray holding the garlic bread.

From the other room, I heard a muffled grunt of pain and small feet skipping out of the room. I turned the burner off before poking my head out into the living room where I found my oldest son.

He was nursing a bruised knee. He straightened up when he heard me and grinned sheepishly at me, his dimples indenting his cheeks. I assumed he had taken Emily's pendant, the one Joel gave her for her seven hundred and fiftieth birthday, and was keeping it out of her reach. I blinked at him, unimpressed.

"Hi, Mom," he greeted, rubbing the back of his neck. The nervous tic reminded me of Zane. Much of Zach reminded me of his uncle. While he looked exactly like his father, he built muscle in a way Will could never achieve. Were it not for his coloring, I would mistake him for Zane from the back.

"When are you going to stop taking Emily's pendant?" I questioned. This had been the fourth time this week and it was only Thursday.

Zach pouted. "When she stops going into my room and taking my movies. She knows she isn't allowed in there without my permission and I totally did not give her permission."

I sighed. "You are nearly one thousand years old. Start acting your age."

"Sorry," he said insincerely, a familiar glint in his eye that I had seen all too often in the early years of knowing Will.

I returned to the kitchen. I dumped the linguine into the colander to drain the water. Steam billowed up from it and I leaned away. Dumping the linguine into a large bowl, I poured the oil and clams into it and stirred. I called, "Zach, get the others; dinner is ready."

I heard him tromp up the stairs and bellow, "Food!"

Just as quickly as he went upstairs, he flew down, most likely to beat his siblings and get as big of a helping as he could. I set the food on the hot pads that I had already placed on the table. Zach zipped past me and took his seat, staring hungrily at the linguine in clam sauce. It was his favorite dish.

The dining room had a large table in the middle of it, with four chairs on each side and one at the ends. There was a low hanging crystal chandelier that sparkled beautifully when turned on. An ornate rug was placed beneath the table and chairs to prevent the legs from scratching the floor when slid back. Behind where Zach usually sat was the glass sliding door that led out to our backyard. Will had built a porch a few decades back when they became more popular. The table was already set and six glasses filled with different drinks.

Will came down with Emily, Cole, and Keith trailing after him. Emily had long scarlet hair and eyes. Aside from Keith, she was the only one who could pass fully as an angel. Her hair was piled on top her head in a bun and she had changed into a T-shirt and shorts. She was the second oldest and acted like a typical sixteen-year-old.

Cole was the second youngest and had black hair that covered his deep blue eyes. He was a Non-Ala, an angel born without wings. Will had been devastated when we found out—angels considered it the worst deformation and often treated Non-Ala second class. He was a perfect mix of mine and Will's features, but his eyes had been a shock. It marked him as something...different. His mouth was relaxed, his only indication that he was looking forward to eating garlic bread.