by Leigh Bale
Was that what her prayers and the Atonement had done? It expelled her grief. It renewed her spirit. How grateful she was for her Savior’s loving sacrifice for her.
Mark was My tool to bring you back to Me, child.
Uncertainty filled her. Once Angie’s treatments were finished, they’d each move on. She wanted more, but what if Mark didn’t have room in his life for her?
Chapter Seventeen
That evening Emma enjoyed quiet contentment as she sat in Mark’s truck with Angie resting between them. Emma had given her bear to Angie, and the child promptly named it Teddy.
Holding the oversize bear close, Angie yawned and cuddled against Emma’s side while her father drove Emma home. Emma wrapped her arm around Angie and eased the child’s head against her chest so the girl would be more comfortable. Angie sighed, her rosebud mouth parted slightly as Emma relaxed her hand on the seat, close by Angie’s leg. Feelings of unconditional love filled Emma to overflowing for this small girl and her father.
“She’s really tired tonight,” Emma observed.
Lighted lamps glowed overhead as they passed down the dark street. Mark glanced at his daughter, his hands on the steering wheel as he drove through traffic. “Yeah, she’s had a busy day. You don’t think she’s overdone it, do you?”
Emma shook her head and smiled, brushing a crumb of ice-cream cone away from Angie’s cheek. The girl’s mouth was stained red from the cherry snowcone she had eaten earlier. “No, a little activity is good for her and her appetite today was voracious. I think I saw her put away an entire hamburger and hot dog, a candy apple and a cotton candy.”
A sigh of disbelief escaped him. “I noticed that, too. It was good to see her so happy.”
Mark’s hand covered Emma’s, startling her. Looking up, she met his intense gaze and his warm smile filled with unspoken promises. “I had a great time with you, Emma.”
“Thanks. Me, too. But you better keep your eyes on the road,” she teased.
He squeezed her hand as he focused on his driving. Their fingers entwined, as he drove her home in silence.
Parking in front of Emma’s duplex, Mark hopped out and came to help her down from the truck. Angie didn’t move a muscle as Emma laid her on the seat, then withdrew slowly. Oh, how Emma wished she could stay. It felt comfortable and natural to be with them. It felt odd to leave.
Mark clasped Emma’s hand in his as he walked with her up the sidewalk. The dark sky showed bright twinkling stars and a round moon to guide their way. The chirp of crickets filled the air along with the sweet aroma of Emma’s honeysuckle bush.
At her doorstep Mark took hold of both Emma’s hands and faced her. She stared up into his eyes, mesmerized by the depth of emotion she saw there. His eyes seemed to mirror what she was feeling inside.
“Thank you for a wonderful day,” she said.
“It was wonderful because of you,” he whispered.
“I think Angie had fun, too.”
He stepped nearer and her heart began to hammer. “Yes, she had a blast. Thanks again for the teddy bear. It means a lot to her, even if you did dunk me three times to win it.”
Emma gave a throaty laugh. “It was my pleasure.”
He grinned. “I’d take a dunking from you anytime, lady.”
Their smiles faded slowly. His head lowered until he kissed her ever so gently on the lips. He tasted of spearmint and smelled of grass and barbecue. When his arms folded around her and he pulled her close, she hugged him back. It felt so right being in his arms and she longed to stay like this forever.
“I want to see you again, Emma,” he whispered against her lips. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t care about you. I want us to be much more than just friends.”
Her heart did myriad flipflops. “I’d like that, too, Mark. I never thought I’d feel this way again. I love being with you and Angie.”
His eyes darkened, his nose touching hers. She inched closer and he kissed her one more time.
“Are you available tomorrow around one o’clock?” he asked.
As she nodded, she tried to calm her erratic breathing.
“Good. Come on over to my house. You haven’t eaten until you’ve tried some of my homemade potato salad and barbecued chicken.”
A thrill of expectancy caused her pulse to skitter. “I’d like that very much. I’ll bring dessert.”
“Chocolate-chip cookies?” He winked at her.
She tilted her head back and laughed. “We’ll see. Maybe I can make something different this time.”
His sigh of pleasure warmed her cheek. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”
As he withdrew, his fingers slid down her forearm to her hand, caressing her palm until only their fingertips touched. Warmth tingled up her arm, his touch electric. A lock of sand-colored hair fell over his brow.
“See you tomorrow,” she said, liking the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled.
He ambled toward his truck and Emma bit her tongue to keep from calling him back. She longed for him to stay, to talk and laugh some more. She didn’t want it to end. But they had tomorrow to look forward to, and the future opened up from there.
As she stood on her doorstep she wrapped her arms around her waist and watched him get into the truck. When he pulled away and rounded the corner, he waved before he disappeared from view.
Begrudgingly, Emma went inside her duplex. Tomorrow. He would call her and they would spend time together and talk and laugh with Angie and—
She would never be lonely again.
Elation swept her. She hadn’t realized how lost she’d been these past two years. Not until Mark had made her see how her anger had eaten up all her joy. Never had she looked forward to the rising of the sun with such anticipation. It would be hard to sleep tonight.
Walking into her bedroom, she flipped on the light and pulled the covers back on her bed. As she took a nightgown from the top drawer of her dresser, she caught sight of Brian’s picture and paused, picking it up. Though she thought of her son every day, it had been several weeks since she had talked to his picture. Her thoughts had been filled with Mark and Angie, not the past.
She sat on the bed and stared at the picture of Brian wearing his favorite baseball cap. His wide smile showed a front tooth missing, and she remembered the day she had taken this picture just after they had returned from a family picnic at the lake.
“I haven’t meant to ignore you, sweetheart,” she said to him. “It’s just that, well, would you mind terribly if I got on with my life?”
Reaching forward, she caressed the glass with her fingertips. “Since you left me, I’ve been so dead inside. Then Mark and Angie came into my office and I’ve discovered I want to live again.”
Tears tumbled down her face and she dashed them away.
“You’ll always be a part of me.”
The wedge of guilt that had been lodged in her heart for so long was no longer there. It had simply lifted, freeing her of a burden that had become heavy and choking. Was it her imagination that Brian’s smile deepened?
Bending her head, she kissed the glass pane, then set the picture on her nightstand. Somehow, looking at him brought her joy and confidence instead of wrenching pain.
Peace enveloped her as she slid between the cool sheets. Her gaze lingered on Brian’s picture and her eyelids grew heavy.
Tomorrow. She would go to Mark’s home and begin a new life with him and Angie. No longer did she dread the future. God had worked a miracle in her life and she felt embraced by His unparalleled love.
Chapter Eighteen
Mark parked his truck in the driveway and got out. The cool night air embraced him as he walked around to the passenger side to open the door and reach in for Angie. She still slept and he slid her into his arms, cradling her as he carried her up the walkway to his front door. The streetlight buzzed overhead and a chilly breeze swept past him.
Summer was almost over. Except for Angie’s illness, it had been idyllic, sharing
happy memories with Emma. At times, he could almost forget Angie’s tumor and his divorce. He would never forget this day as long as he lived.
As he brushed past the row of trimmed box elders skirting the sidewalk, he stepped up on the front porch and noticed the living room light was on. Had he or Angie forgotten to turn it off?
He frowned and juggled Angie in his arms as he reached into his pants’ pocket for his house key. Inserting it into the lock, he was about to turn the knob when the door opened and light flooded him from the entranceway.
“Denise!”
He stared at his ex-wife as she stood before him wearing a bright pink tank top with spaghetti straps and a short denim skirt. Her stiletto heels showed off her long, slender legs, though he wondered how she could walk without strutting like a peacock. Her bleached-blond hair hung past her shoulders in long, thin strands and her eyeliner made her eyes appear heavy and shadowed.
“Thank goodness you’re finally home.” She practically gushed, reaching to pull him inside. “Where have you been all day? I’ve been waiting for hours.”
When he realized his mouth hung open, he closed it and stepped into the formal living room with Angie still sleeping in his arms. “How did you get in here?”
She reached for the cherrywood table sitting beneath a gilded mirror in the main foyer and dangled a key in front of his nose. “I used my house key, silly.”
He sucked back an irritated sigh, making a mental note to change all the locks in the house as soon as possible. He had planned to do it a while ago, but hadn’t found the time. He’d make it a priority tomorrow morning, before Emma arrived.
“I still don’t understand why you’re here so late.” He shouldered past, carrying Angie toward the stairs.
Her heels tapped behind him as she followed him across the entranceway. At the bottom of the stairs, he pivoted to look at her. His arms started to ache under Angie’s weight. “I’ll take Angie up to bed and then we can talk.”
He turned toward the stairs and caught sight of her two large suitcases sitting beside the wall. He angled his head to look at Denise again and jerked his chin toward the bags. “What’s this?”
“My things.” She shrugged her slim shoulders and opened her arms wide. “You’re always asking me to come and visit Angie. Well, here I am.”
What was going on? He knew his ex-wife too well. Something was up. He could see it in the way she wrung her hands together and chewed her bottom lip. She wanted something. After the tidy settlement he’d given her in their divorce, he wondered what more she could want.
“Denise, you can’t stay here—”
“Mommy?” Angie woke up and rubbed her eyes. “Mommy!”
She squirmed in his arms and Mark placed her on her feet, wishing she had slept long enough for him to get her to bed. He didn’t want her to witness an argument between him and Denise.
Angie tottered on her feet and he reached to steady her.
“Mommy!” She raced toward her mother, throwing her frail arms around Denise’s waist.
“Oh, Angie!” Denise cried as she went down on one knee and hugged the girl. She didn’t kiss her daughter. Mark knew Denise hated smudging her lipstick.
Angie squeezed Denise around the neck. As she held her child, Denise pulled her head back, so Angie wouldn’t muss her hair.
“Hi, Angie. Oh, I’ve missed you so much.” Denise pulled her daughter close to her chest.
Confusion filled Mark’s mind. He couldn’t remember the last time Denise had been this affectionate with their daughter. Maybe the long absence had caused her to appreciate Angie more.
“Why haven’t you called me?” Angie asked, her words muffled against her mother’s arm.
“Well, I tried. But every time I called, I got a busy signal or your Dad told me you were off playing somewhere.”
“You didn’t leave us any messages,” Angie pointed out.
“Oh, well, I didn’t want to talk to the machine. I wanted to talk to you in person.”
Mark bit the inside of his mouth to keep from saying something derogatory in front of his daughter. He didn’t want to hurt Angie, but he planned to have a strong talk with Denise later on, in private.
“Where’s your Jaguar?” he asked. “I didn’t see it parked outside.”
“I sold it.” Denise stood and waved a hand in the air as she stepped away from Angie.
Without her mother’s support, Angie swayed on her feet. She needed sleep.
“Hey, honey, let’s get you upstairs.” Mark reached for her.
“Can’t I stay with Mommy?” Angie clasped her mother’s hand.
Foreboding settled over Mark as Denise breezed into the family room with Angie, their arms locked together. A lump formed in Mark’s throat when he saw how fiercely Angie held on to her mother.
“Are you home for good?” Angie asked.
“Well, that depends on your dad.” Denise tossed a hopeful look at Mark.
“Daddy doesn’t mind,” Angie said. “He wants you here, don’t you, Dad?”
Angie wore an innocent smile and Mark couldn’t bear to break her heart. No, he didn’t want Denise here. She was not staying. They were no longer married and his thoughts lingered on Emma.
He decided to let Angie spend a few minutes more with her mom. Then, he’d put his daughter to bed, call Denise a cab and face the fallout with Angie the next morning when she asked where her mother had gone.
They ignored him as they snuggled together on the couch. Shaking his head, Mark sat in a chair by the big-screen TV. Denise spoke to Angie in muted tones. The child just listened, rubbing her eyes, her movements sluggish. Though being with her mother elated Angie, this wasn’t a good time for a visit.
“Honey, do you feel okay?” he asked.
Angie nodded, her eyelids drooping.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and get into bed, now?” Denise suggested. “Then, Daddy and I can have a long talk and we can do something fun together in the morning.”
“Okay, but Emma’s coming over.” Angie smothered a yawn as she slid off the couch and stood before her mother.
Mark tensed. His plans for tomorrow didn’t include Denise.
“Emma?” Denise glanced at Mark. “Emma who?”
“She’s my doctor.” Angie spoke in a vague tone as she stifled another yawn.
Denise’s eyes narrowed and her mouth hardened. “Oh. Anyone I know?”
“It’s Emma Clemmons,” Mark explained. “Her name’s Shields, now. She’s Angie’s oncologist.”
“Oh, her.” Denise gave a piercing laugh. “A married woman, Mark?”
He tightened his hands. “She’s divorced, just like me.”
Her mouth rounded. “So, she became a doctor, hmm?”
“Yeah, and she’s pretty,” Angie said.
“Yes, she is,” Mark agreed.
Denise’s mouth hardened. “But why would you invite her here, Mark? I mean, she’s got to be the most boring person I know.”
Mark clenched his jaw. Boring? He’d never met a more exciting woman. Bright, intelligent, giving, and too dignified to ever pout or pretend tears. Real. Emma didn’t play games to get what she wanted.
He sat forward, prepared to defend Emma, but Angie cut him off. “Emma makes us cookies, and her and Dad almost won the three-legged race.”
“Oh, really? She sounds very…domestic.” There was a hard edge to Denise’s tone.
“This will be fun.” Angie showed a slight smile. “We can have a party and you can meet Emma. I’m so glad you’re home, Mommy. Don’t ever leave us again, okay?”
Angie wrapped her spindly arms around her mother’s neck and hugged tight. A hard lump settled in Mark’s stomach.
“Of course I’ll stay.” Denise’s gaze lifted to Mark’s and she stared at him from over the top of Angie’s head.
Mark didn’t smile or speak a word. He didn’t want to encourage Denise or upset Angie. This was happening too fast. He needed time to think. To sort this o
ut. Denise was not staying, that was a given. But he felt torn when Angie smiled at him. He wanted to reach an agreement with Denise for regular visitations at a reasonable time of day, but he feared he might say something to drive her away from Angie. No matter what, he couldn’t allow Denise to hold him hostage with their daughter.
He returned Angie’s smile and stood up before he squeezed her arm. “Why don’t you run upstairs and get ready for bed? You and I will talk about this later.”
Seeming confident to have her parents back together, Angie turned and stumbled.
“Whoa, careful there, sweetheart.”
Angie put a hand to her head, blinking her eyes.
“Are you dizzy?” Mark scooped her into his arms and tossed a look in Denise’s direction. “I’ll take her up and be right back.”
He left Denise, grateful for the distraction as he walked with his cherished burden to her bedroom. Sitting her on the bed, he opened Angie’s dresser drawer, wishing again that his ex-wife hadn’t showed up like this unannounced.
“Time to sleep,” he urged.
Angie curled up on her covers, closing her eyes. “But I want to see Mommy.”
He sighed and rested one hand on the top dresser drawer. “I know you do, hon.”
A deep huff of air trembled from her chest as her eyelids dipped low. He decided it would be okay to let her stay in her shorts and he removed her shoes, then covered her with a blanket. They’d brush her teeth extra well in the morning.
He walked back downstairs, his thoughts a jumbled mass of confusion. He searched his heart, finding no romantic love for his ex-wife. Except for Angie’s sake, Mark had no desire to see Denise again.
In sharp contrast, he couldn’t wait to see Emma. He wanted to plan a future with her. In all their years of courtship and marriage, he had never felt as happy around Denise as he did with Emma. Not even in high school. Ah, he had been so foolish to ever give Emma up.
Breathing deeply, he made his way downstairs, bracing himself for whatever might follow. As he walked into the kitchen, he heard his ex-wife on the phone, talking to her mother.