Well, today was a bit of a change!  And a welcome one.  It has been too long since I had the chance to assist a younger sibling.  It was an honor and a privilege to be asked.

I was at rest in heaven, considering what I should write about for my next installment, when I recognized a presence nearby, one that was once quite familiar to me.  “Shahidi!” I cried, turning with joy to my young brother.  “How good to see you!”

He seemed surprised by my eagerness.  “It has been some time, brother,” he said.  “I hope I am not disturbing you?”

“No, no, please!  I am only sorry to have out of touch for so long.”  I took a good, long look at him.  He was instated as Cupid last year and has been caring well for his own charges; Danit has told me that she is pleased with his work.  I could still see in him the bashful, anxious tendencies that he had when he was in training under me, but they have softened, rounding from the edges that once made up his aura.  He stands taller now, his wings spread wider, and he met my eyes more readily than he ever had.  What a change!

“I have come because I hoped you would help me with an assignment of mine,” he said.  “I know that you have been busy with your own charges, but Danit said you might have a bit of time now—?”

“Of course!” I said.  “I always have time for you, brother.  Tell me about your charge.”

He sighed.  “I think it is better that I show you.  Are you rested?”

“I am.  Lead the way.”

Shaking his head, he smiled at me.  “That I should hear you say that to me!”  And he spread his wings and took flight.

I followed him down to the Garden—he works in a region south of my usual area, not far from where I first met Freya, in fact.  We found his charge in a college library, hunched down in a sound-proofed room over stacks of books.

“His name is Corey Heyward,” Shahidi explained, his voice hushed although no one would be able to hear us.  He always has had this marvelous sensitivity to his surroundings.  “He is a doctoral student, which involves a great deal of stress.  He is in a bit of a time of crisis, and I am at a loss as to how to help him.”

I took a good look at Corey Heyward.  He is a handsome, healthy young man, in the prime of his life, and his concentration seemed absolute.  I could see no sign of crisis in him.

“Wait,” Shahidi said, his eyes on the phone sitting next to Corey’s elbow.

My young brother has good intuition.  Only a moment after we arrived, the phone began to ring.

Immediately Corey’s aura changed.  His focus was lost, and he looked at the phone with hurt and longing in his heart.  He let it ring three times before he reached for it.

“Hey,” he said, his voice muted.

“Hey,” said a cheerful voice on the other end.  “You at the library?”

“Yeah, working on my paper for next week.  Call you back?”

“His fiancée, Emma,” Shahidi explained to me.  “They have been together since high school.  She is in California currently; they have not seen one another for several months.”

That explained some of the pain in Corey’s face, but not the coldness in his voice.

Emma continued, the cheer beginning to sound somewhat forced.  “I only need a second.  I just wanted to let you know that I found that store that your mother was talking about.”

“You did?” Corey said, picking up a pen.  “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, so I’m going out there tomorrow to take a look around.  If I find something nice, do you want to come in with me on her birthday present?  Because I’m poor,” she moaned, and Corey smiled, his eyes going soft.

The tender expression on his face didn’t last, though.  “I’ve already got a gift for her.  But you go ahead—I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Emma was silent for a moment.  “Okay, but this means she may not get something totally awesome, and if that happens I’m going to tell her that it’s your fault.”

“Spare me,” Corey said, leaning back in his chair.  “I know you’re mad at me, but surely you don’t want me dead?”

The question was light, teasing, but Emma took it seriously.  “I’m not mad at you, baby.  I just wish—”

Corey’s aura closed up tight, and he sat forward.  “Look, I’ve got to go.  Call you tonight?”

“Promise?” Emma asked.

He sighed, tracing circles on the table with his fingertip.  “Promise.”

“I love you,” she said, almost challenging.

That made him smile again, in the same way as before, almost against his will.  “I love you too.  Talk to you soon.”

He hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands.

Shahidi stepped forward and draped his wing around Corey’s shoulders.  “They had a fight a few days ago,” he explained to me.  “Corey told Emma that he thought he had been too hasty in asking her to marry him.”

I hummed thoughtfully, watching the coils of emotion in Corey’s aura.

“I don’t understand what it is that is making him draw back from her,” Shahidi said.  “They clearly love one another very much.  I wondered if it might be something to do with the distance, but they have coped with it easily enough in the past.”

“Has anything changed?” I asked.

“Nothing in specific,” Shahidi replied, stepping back as Corey lifted his head and turned back to his work.  “Indeed, the time apart has only made him miss her more.”

“Ah,” I said, remembering some of what Brooke and Morgan thought in their time of separation.  “Perhaps he thinks that not having her at all will be easier than missing her.”

Shahidi blinked, then he looked down at Corey.  “Ah,” he said.

I waited.  I had any number of suggestions, but I wanted to see how my young brother would proceed.

He sighed, but not as Corey had, filled with sorrow and despair.  Shahidi’s sigh was an exhalation that came from a core of patience and love, blowing like a breeze into Corey’s soul.  He bent over his charge and murmured, “You should have more faith.  The time of hurt will not last; the times you dream about will come again.  Fill your days with preparations for the future, and it will arrive sooner than you think.”

When Shahidi straightened, so did Corey, as if some of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  He frowned and went back to work, his focus restored.

Shahidi turned to me and smiled.  “I understand now,” he said.  “I will work to lift his despair, and I will also encourage Emma not to give up on him.  Thank you, brother, for your help.”

“I did no more than speak from experience,” I laughed.

Shahidi held out his hand to me.  “You provided direction, which was welcome.  I’m grateful.”

I took his hand.  “As am I, for this chance to see you at work.  I think you will be magnificent, Shahidi.”

He brightened.  “Coming from you, that means a great deal.”

“May I write about this?” I asked him.

He laughed and told me that he had guessed I would ask.  So I have his blessing, and now he has mine.  My young brother, my friend, I am proud of the work you have done and honored to have had any part in teaching you.  I cannot wait to see what you will do next.