The Healing Touch (Stories from hope haven)

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The Healing Touch (Stories from hope haven) Page 14

by Hanson


  If her children had been grown and on their own, she would feel free to put her own happiness first. But they were both at vulnerable ages, and every decision she made could have damaging consequences.

  Sometimes life was so complicated that she didn't know how to cope.

  James was glad to have the public meeting behind him, but there was still a great deal of work to do before the preparedness drill. He got up earlier than usual Tuesday morning. No matter how busy he was at the hospital, he still had a few jobs to do before he went to work.

  He made coffee and brought a cup to Fern, preferring that she stay in bed until it was time to see the boys off. Although they routinely made their own breakfasts, she wouldn't dream of letting them leave without a few words of motherly advice.

  “Have you thought any more about getting a new cat?” James asked as he perched beside his wife on the edge of the bed.

  “I don't feel comfortable getting a replacement for Sapphire,” she said thoughtfully. “It would be awful to get attached to another one and then have it disappear too. If we knew for sure what happened to her…”

  “I understand,” James said.

  They talked for a few minutes, and he still had to create a grocery list and go over some paperwork for the house. He hoped the closing on their old house would come soon so he would no longer be responsible for two house payments.

  “I won't be right home after work,” he said to Fern, “but I’ll get here as soon as I can. Do you need anything from the store?”

  “Not that I can think of. And don't worry about Sapphire. She always was an independent cat.”

  He knew she was still hurting, although she tried hard not to show it. Did she still hope that her pet would be found?

  After he wrote out a grocery list, he grabbed his checkbook to be sure he had enough money to pay for the food. He skimmed his entries, and one particularly caught his eye. He’d paid a hefty fee to the pet detective, and she really hadn't done a thing to find their cat. As soon as he had a break today, he was going to call her and demand some hands-on help for his money. He wasn't the kind of person who frequently complained, but he didn't like to waste money.

  His morning was filled with patient concerns, and whenever he had a free second, someone on the staff had a question about the upcoming drill.

  “What do we tell our regular patients?” a nurse on his floor asked.

  “Just tell them it's only a drill. We won't disturb anyone needlessly. There will be some commotion on the first floor, but it shouldn't interfere with regular patient care.”

  He had so many things on his mind that he forgot about the pet detective until he was eating lunch in the cafeteria. The first time he punched in her number on his cell phone, he got the answering machine. He tried again from the staff lounge with more success.

  “I’d like to speak to Mimi Zonn,” he said to the person who answered.

  “May I tell her who's calling?”

  “James Bell.”

  He waited so long that he nearly hung up, but at last the detective came to the phone.

  “Let's see,” she said. “You’ve lost your cat, right? How's the search going?”

  “It isn’t. Going door-to-door doesn't work, never mind that I don't have the time. People either aren't home or they think I’m accusing them of stealing our cat. I expected more help from your agency. If you remember, I paid a substantial fee.”

  “Let me pull your file and review the case. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Please do,” James said, deciding not to mention this call to Fern. He didn't have much hope, regardless of what Mimi Zonn came up with, and he didn't want his wife to have false hopes.

  Would he hear from the pet detective again? Even if he did, what could she do at this late date? At least he wanted the satisfaction of knowing that he hadn't totally wasted his money.

  Even though she was on James's committee Candace stayed after work to help Anabelle and Maxine review the vaccine inventories in other counties. The results of the statewide survey were pretty much what they’d expected. No one in the area had an adequate supply. Of those who had missed the fall round of inoculations, only a select few would be able to get shots in case of an epidemic.

  The new mother with a fever was still in isolation, but the state lab couldn't be rushed when it came to test results. Almost all the doctors and hospitals in central Illinois were sending an unusual number of specimens for analysis.

  “I heard the husband's having a fit,” Anabelle said. “He wants to take his wife and baby home, but Dr. Hamilton is standing firm. Until the test results come back, we have to treat her as the first victim of a possible epidemic. She's sick enough to be in the hospital, even without the threat of flu.”

  “Everyone on our floor is edgy,” Candace said. “Fortunately, all of our other mothers seem fine, but it's too soon to be sure she hasn't infected any other patients.”

  As important as their work was, Candace was still eager to leave the community health office on the main floor of the hospital. She’d run into Heath for a few brief moments at noon, and he’d asked her to meet him at the Corner after her shift ended. He was probably waiting for her now.

  “Would you mind if I leave?” she asked the other two women. “I did say I’d meet someone after work.”

  “Run along,” Maxine said, closing her laptop and smiling warmly. “I’m grateful you could help out. My office is snowed under with work. I appreciate so much what the task force is doing, and that certainly includes the two of you. If we do have an epidemic, I’m sure we’ll be as well or better prepared than any county in the state.”

  “That's really nice to hear,” Anabelle said.

  Candace left and hurried to meet Heath. She walked across the street as a chilly rain slid off her rain hat and soaked her feet. The promise of early spring had given way to cold, soggy weather. Were people more vulnerable to the flu when the weather was damp and unpleasant? She didn't know the answer but prayed it wasn't so.

  She still hadn't decided whether to mention Brooke's party to him. It was her decision whether to let boys come, but it would be nice if he agreed with her. Sometimes being a parent was so lonely, even with her mother to help her. It was good that Janet never tried to second-guess decisions about the children, but sometimes Candace needed to feel less alone.

  Heath was sitting in one of the booths, facing the door and toying with a cup of coffee. His face lit up with a broad smile when he saw her.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, shedding her wet coat and hat and bundling them beside her on the broad seat.

  “I don't mind waiting for you,” he said with a wink. “What can I get you?”

  “I’d love some hot tea.” She let out a long, relaxing exhale and settled into the booth.

  He gestured at a waitress who didn't seem to be doing anything in the nearly deserted diner and then they talked about their day until she left a pot of hot water and an assortment of foil-wrapped tea bags on their table.

  “I wonder if I can run something past you,” Candace said to Heath, deciding to mention the party because it was so comforting to sit with him in the cozy little diner. “I have a real dilemma with Brooke.”

  “I’ll do anything I can to help,” he assured her. “What's the problem?”

  “You know she's turning thirteen. We have a party planned at the Y for the Saturday after her birthday. Now she wants to invite boys, and I’m not sure she's old or mature enough. It's become a real issue between us. I don't know whether I’m being too strict.”

  “I know that you only want what's best for her.” He stared at her with his vivid blue eyes, and she warmed to the sincerity in his voice.

  “But am I being overly protective?” She began fidgeting with a tea bag wrapper on the table. “Do you think I should change my mind and let her invite boys?”

  He leaned forward and linked his fingers with hers. “I honestly don't know. But I do know I love you.”<
br />
  Candace loved hearing the words. Yet they still made her feel slightly anxious. She loved him too, but it was overwhelming to say the least. She smiled and continued, “I know most of her friends, but I have no idea who the boys are.”

  “If you don't let her invite them, maybe she’ll build them up in her imagination to be romantic heroes. It might make her more interested.”

  James had mentioned something similar about forbidden fruit. “I can't see anything romantic about the awkward boys I see outside the school,” she said with a chuckle, “but then, I’m a long way from thirteen.”

  Heath released her hands and took a sip of his coffee. “You’re worried that you’re a bad mother if you say no.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Candace, you couldn't be bad if you tried. Someday Brooke will realize what a wonderful mother she has.”

  “I hope so, but she's going to be difficult if I say no.”

  “Tell you what. Let's go out tonight. Should I pick you up at seven? We’ll have dinner and talk some more. That way I’ll have time to think about it. You can't spring a big decision like that on an old bachelor without giving him some time to mull it over.”

  Candace felt a telling catch in her throat. She still couldn't believe that she was being given a second chance at love with this wonderful man. She’d vowed not to compare him to Dean, but he had an innate goodness that reminded her of her late husband's kindness and integrity.

  “I’d like that,” she said. “Please come in and say good night to Howie. He thinks the world of you.”

  “Will do, and don't worry. No matter what you decide, Brooke will understand someday.”

  He took her hands again, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

  “I’ll walk you to your car. I just happen to have an umbrella with me.”

  His umbrella sheltered her from the rain, but his growing love was a much greater comfort. She wished that she could accept it unconditionally, but she wasn't a young girl who had only herself to think of.

  God had given her two precious children to fill the void in her life when Dean passed away. She wanted to be the best possible mother, even if it meant accepting the emptiness in her heart, but it was terribly hard to know what was right and what was wrong for Brooke and Howie.

  Chapter Eighteen

  WE’RE IN,” CAMERON SAID BEFORE ANABELLE COULD get her coat off after work.

  “In what?” she asked absentmindedly, her mind still full of the possibility of a flu epidemic.

  “The cooking class. Sherry called. Her Happy Heart class is a hit. She has eleven people signed up, three of them men.”

  “Then you really don't need me to go with you,” Anabelle said, wanting nothing more than to kick off her shoes and have a relaxing cup of herbal tea.

  “Hey, Annie, we’re in this together. You’re the one who wants me to eat more healthy food. You’re not going to back out on me now, are you?”

  “Not if you really want me to go with you,” she said, smiling to hide how reluctant she was to add one more thing to her busy schedule. “When do the classes begin?”

  “Tomorrow. Sherry asked if that was too soon, but I told her the sooner, the better. She wouldn't tell me what our first recipe will be, but she gave me a hint: Georgia's favorite fruit. I’m pretty sure that means something with peaches.”

  “Good guess,” she said, trying to muster up enthusiasm to match her husband's. “What time does the class start?”

  “Five o’clock. We’re supposed to bring hearty appetites because we’ll be eating whatever we cook. I can't believe it, but I’m actually looking forward to Sherry's lessons.”

  “Meanwhile, how about a big salad for dinner? We have all the ingredients, and I can boil a couple of eggs for our protein.”

  “I’m a step ahead of you,” he said beaming with satisfaction. “Since this is our last dinner before we learn to cook healthy food, I got a chuck roast this morning. It's been cooking in the Crock-Pot all day. I threw in onions, potatoes, salt, and some other seasoning. It should be tender enough to fall apart by now.”

  “Oh, Cam, I thought our dinner at the restaurant was your last fling.”

  “That doesn't count because we ate out. This will be the last time I can fix anything I want. I went easy on the dessert though, just bakery pound cake with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce. I thought of that combination myself.”

  Anabelle's shoulders drooped, and she was at a loss for words. Would cooking classes be enough to convince her husband to change his eating habits? Now that he had lots of time to think about food, he wanted to eat far more than he had during his working days.

  She went upstairs to freshen up, dreading the meal to come. Watching her husband consume rich food ruined her own appetite. If it wouldn't hurt his feelings, she would gladly settle for tea and soda crackers instead of the dinner he’d prepared.

  “It will do you good to get out,” Janet said as she zipped the back zipper on Candace's light blue jersey dress.

  “Work takes me away so much. I feel guilty going out to dinner on a school night.” She smoothed down her dress and slipped a long silver chain over her head. “Anyway, I’m going to feel silly in this dress if Heath shows up in jeans and a polo shirt. I should change into my black slacks and a sweater.”

  “Nonsense. There's nothing wrong with dressing up a bit. It's nice to see you in something besides scrubs and everyday clothes.”

  “Well, thank you for putting the kids to bed. I know it's always hard for Howie to settle down after he sees Heath.”

  “It would be good for him to have a male teacher,” Janet said, speaking as a retired media specialist in the school system. “I don't see that happening for a couple of years. Fifteen, twenty years ago we actually had a man teaching kindergarten. The kids adored him. He was like the Pied Piper. Unfortunately, he left for a better paying job in the private sector.”

  Candace scarcely listened. They’d lived together since Dean's death, more than long enough for her to hear all her mother's stories. What she needed was to hear that it was all right to put herself first by going out on a school night, but she wasn't a child who could be easily reassured anymore.

  Alone in the bathroom, she brushed on her favorite coral lip gloss. It went well with the coppery highlights in her brown bob, but she didn't like it with her dress. She vigorously wiped it off and applied a pale pink. She didn't like it any better, but she was out of time and just a little embarrassed for fussing with makeup. She wasn't a teenage girl getting ready for her first date.

  In fact, she was toying with the idea of canceling. She’d had a long day, and she hated to miss reading Howie's bedtime story.

  The doorbell rang, and Howie tore out of his room and raced down the stairs to answer it.

  “Hi, Sport. Give me five,” Heath said, holding out his hand so Howie could smack his open palm against it.

  Brooke's dignity wouldn't allow her to join the race to the door, but she went halfway down the stairs and hung on the banister where she could see Heath.

  “Hi, Brooke,” he called out when he saw her.

  “Can you play a game with me?” Howie asked. “I don't have to go to bed yet.”

  “Not tonight,” Heath said. “Next time we’ll have a marathon.”

  “That's when you play lots and lots of games in a row, isn't it?”

  “Right, but it's too late for that tonight. Your mother hasn't had her dinner yet.”

  “We had hot dogs,” Howie said. “Grammy puts sauerkraut on hers, but I hate it.”

  “I’m not too crazy about it either. I like lots of ketchup and mustard.”

  “Yuck, I don't like mustard. It's too yellow,” Howie said turning up his nose.

  “Shall we go?” Heath asked when Candace appeared, automatically going to the closet and getting out her good wool coat.

  He was wearing a camel hair sports coat and dark slacks with a turtleneck, but he hadn't bothered with an outer coat. She
couldn't help but notice how trim and agile he was, and part of her wanted his strong arms around her, sheltering her from all the setbacks of everyday life.

  “Ready?” he asked with a winning smile.

  “All ready.” She bent and kissed the top of Howie's head and waved good night to Brooke, who was still hovering on the stairs.

  She was getting way ahead of herself, but Heath had shown that he wanted them to have a closer relationship. If he proposed, how would she answer? What if things didn't work out and her children had to lose another father figure? Would it be better to end things now?

  These thoughts were new and a little frightening. There was no question that she loved Heath, but first and foremost, she had to think of her children.

  Heath lifted Howie and swung him around to his delighted squeals.

  “I won't be late,” she said to her mother. “Thanks for putting the kids to bed.”

  “No problem,” Janet said, although they both knew that it wouldn't be easy to settle Howie down after he saw Heath.

  He surprised her by driving to the Heritage House.

  “I wasn't expecting to come here,” she said.

  “You looked a bit down today. I thought it might cheer you up.”

  “That's sweet of you,” she said.

  The Heritage House was the place where people came for special events. She hoped Heath didn't have any surprises planned. She felt weary and torn between her feelings for him and what was best for her children.

  Tuesday was a slow night, so they were the only ones in a room that had once been the parlor. Candace liked the period pictures on the wall, especially a portrait of a lovely young woman in an ornate metal frame with rounded glass, but she didn't have much appetite for the elaborate meals that were served there. She ordered a lamb chop with vegetables and hoped it would be a modest-sized entrée. Heath ordered blackened swordfish, which struck her as an odd thing to serve in the middle of Illinois, far from any ocean.

 

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