by Lauren Clark
A door opened and closed. Chris looked up. His face showed no expression.
“Well, hello, sugar,” said a woman, still off-camera. Her voice was soft and slow, with a deep Southern accent. “How’s everythin’ going here? Need some help?”
Tiny goose bumps popped out on my arms. I wanted to tear my eyes away. I couldn’t.
Chris’s eyes widened. He looked down at his work. “Um, not really, Tyler. Thanks anyway.”
The woman laughed. It was a satisfied sound. She was in control, it said.
A slender woman with long, straight brunette hair and a snug red suit appeared in the corner of the frame. Taking one step, then another, she walked down the side of the table, letting the fingertips of one hand trail over the top of each chair.
I sucked in a breath. Tyler was the same woman in the flame-red dress from the Gala!
Chris sat still, trying to ignore her approach. He coughed, re-arranged his papers, and ran a hand through his hair.
“Darlin’, we need to talk about this misunderstanding we’ve had. I told you I’d take care of everything. I’ll make sure no one knows…”
Tyler stopped halfway to Chris. She turned to face the table, her full lips pursed. “I think you just need to forget about it and trust me. Stop being upset. If you can. Chris…I’ve got some special compensation for you…”
She looked hard, concentrating on the centerpiece of white roses and lilies. When Chris glanced up, Tyler bent forward and put one hand on the table. She closed her eyes, cupped a rose with her fingers, and leaned closer to the blossom. Her skirt inched up. And inched up.
Tyler sighed and opened her eyes. “Aren’t they lovely?” She stood up and straightened her skirt, smoothing it down over her hips. “Their scent is so romantic, so sweet. Lush.”
The blood coursing through my veins started to pound. Chris was obviously uncomfortable. And unsure. Right where she wanted him.
True to Chris’s words, Tyler started unbuttoning the top of her suit. “It’s so hot in here, isn’t it darlin’?” She slid out of her jacket and dropped it to the floor. Underneath, the camisole she wore was transparent and lacy. No bra. The curve of her breast was clearly outlined.
Chris turned bright red from scalp to tie. Tyler kicked off her shoes, sauntered over to Chris, and put both hands on his chest. She nuzzled up against him. That explained the smudge on his shirt that night.
Tyler made her way up to his neck, then moved in front of Chris’s face.
“No!” I heard him say.
Tyler just laughed. “Go ahead, pretend you don’t want me. It’s more fun.” With a gentle pull, Tyler slid the camisole off and tossed it to the corner.
Her bronzed skin was perfect. “I want you now. Right here. On the boardroom table. Now, be a good boy…”
Suddenly, Chris’s hands gripped each shoulder, holding her back.
“Just relax, darlin’,” Tyler cooed.
Chris took one hand and yanked her forearm. The force made Tyler slide off his lap. I could see his face then. He was furious. His eyes glinted with anger and his teeth were clenched. “I said no.”
Tyler scrambled to her feet, blocking my view of Chris. She faced him, her bare shoulders heaving. “How dare you reject me? Do you have any idea how much power I have in this company? With our clients? I can make or break your career, Chris Moore.”
Chris mumbled something I couldn’t hear.
Tyler threw her head back and hooted. “You love your wife. How sweet.” She pulled out a boardroom chair and leaned her elbows on the back of it. Tyler got quiet.
“I’ll tell you what. You have sex with me right now, forget you ever heard anything about the hedge fund, and I’ll send you back to your little sweet wife. And you’ll still have your job. No problem.”
“No.” I heard Chris shoot back.
“Fine! I’ll fire you. Then I’ll smear your reputation. You’ll never work a day in this business again.” Tyler pushed the chair closer to him.
I was nauseous. My stomach churned at her words. I didn’t know how Chris could remain as calm as he did.
“Go ahead,” Chris said firmly. “Do what you have to.”
Tyler’s body stiffened. “What? You can’t be serious,” she sneered. “You have to want me. Look at me,” she exclaimed and held her arms out. “I’m perfect.”
Chris didn’t respond.
Tyler tossed her hair defiantly. “Stephen Cummings from Atlanta. Our precious new client? He’s not stupid. He wanted me, too. Made it clear from the beginning.” Tyler laughed. “I sealed that deal. And it didn’t have anything to do with signing a piece of paper.”
I desperately wished I could see my husband’s face.
There was a long pause. Finally, a murmur from Chris. Tyler’s arms dropped to her sides. “What did you say?” she shrieked.
“I’m not attracted to you,” Chris said, louder this time. “And I can’t just forget about the hedge fund.”
Relief flooded over me.
Tyler didn’t move. She was stunned.
I glanced over at Chris. He was stone-faced, watching the clip. Before I could turn back to watch, I heard Tyler cry out.
“You’ll be sorry,” she screamed. The monitor showed Tyler, within inches of Chris, arms flailing wildly. She slapped, punched, and kicked. Chris shielded his face from her blows.
Then, all at once, Tyler stopped. Maybe she knew she was beaten. I watched her gather her clothes. She slipped the camisole over her head, smoothed her hair, and tugged on the jacket. Tyler walked out without another word.
Chris clicked off the DVD.
We both stared at the blank screen. My heartbeat slowed to a steady crawl.
“It took an enormous amount of courage to show me that,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. That it had to come to this.”
Chris tilted his head. “I was afraid if I didn’t, I would lose you for sure. I couldn’t let that happen. That’s the truth, Melissa.” He inhaled deeply.
“I need to be honest about some things, too.” I clasped my hands together and leaned toward him. “They’re important.”
Chris frowned. “Okay. Is it about the station?”
“Kind of,” I said. “Drew offered me the anchor job. It’s mine if I want it. He said to let him know as soon as I could.”
Confused, Chris sat back. “Mel, you should go for it…but what’s the catch?”
“There’s a little boy who needs our help.” I’d found an article about Sharice and Darius in the newspaper. I took it out of my bag and handed it to Chris. His photo was front and center.
“This is Darius,” I explained. “Do you remember Sharice? Mother’s nurse?”
“Of course.” Chris drew in a deep breath. “She died in the fire.”
“Yes. Well, Darius, this little boy in the photo, is her son.”
His puzzled expression turned to one of surprise.
“He’s very ill. And very alone.”
Epilogue
“Brought some lattes from The Daily Grind,” Candace called out. “Dino says hello!” She set down a coffee carrier on the counter.
“Mmm, smells delicious!” I exclaimed, and watched Candace’s two girls scamper through our living room, out the French doors, and off into the back yard. For a late April day in Georgia, it was warm and sunny. “I can’t believe how much the girls have grown!”
“I think Marcus sprinkled Miracle Grow on them.” Candace sunk into the couch cushions. “Where’s Chris? And the little man?”
Darius. The miracle we never expected. Out of habit, I touched the pendant Candace gave me.
“Chris is picking him up. Darius was invited to a sleepover. He was so excited. He’ll be back soon; he knew the girls were coming over.” I grinned and checked my watch.
“He’s such a brave little boy. What do the doctors say?” Candace asked.
“The tests came back. Everything’s good so far. Darius is such a fighter. Sharice would be so pr
oud of him.” I paused and pictured her face. “I think, somehow, she knows.”
Days before Sharice died a year ago, doctors discovered Darius had acute lymphocytic leukemia, or ALL, a type of blood cancer. ALL was curable, especially if caught early. After a long, long talk, some tears, and more discussion, Chris and I petitioned the court to allow us to serve as Darius’s foster parents. We decided we couldn’t let him get lost in the system.
Sharice had taken good care of Mother. We needed to take care of Darius. This sweet, loving boy needed a family. As it turned out, we needed him just as much.
We were able to get Darius in to see the specialists at Macon Medical Center’s Premier Cancer Treatment Center, the very place Chris’s parents helped create. Darius could get the best oncology care, right here at home.
Over the next months, Chris and I held his hands during endless blood tests and chemotherapy visits. When Darius would cry, I’d find myself crying along with him. When Darius had to stay in the hospital, Chris would sleep in one of the over-sized chairs and I’d curl up in the bed next to Darius’s little body.
During the day, we read books, drew pictures, brought in stuffed animals and funny cards. Joe, Drew, and the guys from the station brought balloons and cookies. Candace and the girls made cheery, colorful posters for the walls of his hospital room.
When doctors finally gave the okay, that Darius was in remission, we celebrated and brought him home, hopefully, for good.
I heard the creak of the front door opening. “Hey everybody,” Chris called out.
Darius ran into the room and hugged me. “Hi, honey,” I squeezed him to my chest, kissed his cheek, and rubbed his smooth head.
He turned to Candace. “Are Jaden and Allie here?”
“In the back, go on and see. They’ve been waiting for you.”
Darius trotted off as fast as his legs could carry him.
Chris wheeled Mother in the room. She lifted a hand to wave.
“Let’s put you over by the back window so that you can watch Darius and the girls.” I walked over to Mother, moved her wheelchair, then leaned over, and gave her a quick kiss. She moved away slightly at the touch, but didn’t seem upset.
“How are you feeling?” I asked in a quiet voice.
Mother drew in a quick breath and glanced around the room, looking a bit unsure of where she was. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and rubbed her lips together. Her eyes clouded over and her hands fluttered together like a butterfly settling on her lap.
It was a warm and cozy corner, away from the shade of the porch, where the sunshine could filter in. Mother gazed out at the girls turning cartwheels in the yard. She smiled a tiny bit, and then closed her eyes. Within minutes, she fell asleep.
“She seems so much better,” Candace said in a low voice.
“Mother is better,” I agreed. “So much more calm on her new medication. She’s enjoying her new room at Magnolia Woods. You should see the place. What an amazing transformation! She has a big picture window now, overlooking the lawn and garden. The landscaping alone is gorgeous. All kinds of azaleas and crepe myrtles. I can’t wait to see them in bloom.”
“And she’s adjusted to the big news?”
“Better than I ever expected,” I said. “At first, Darius was pretty wary. The two of them kind of watched each other from their respective corners. But then, Darius would do a somersault or balance on one foot, or say something that made Mother laugh. I think they’ve kind of grown on each other.”
“And what does Kelly think?”
I smiled and thought about Kelly’s delighted reaction. “She’s been the best. She’s so excited; I think she may transfer somewhere closer to home. We’re not sure yet.”
Candace stood up and walked across the room to the window, where she glanced out at the girls. “Whew! I don’t know how you’re managing it all. Darius, the leukemia, your mother, Kelly.” She glanced back at me. “What did you decide about the adoption?”
“We’re going to go for it!” I rubbed my hands together. “Chris found a good attorney who’s helping with the paperwork. He thinks our chances are really good, especially since Sharice didn’t have any family and Darius seems to be adjusting well.”
“Fabulous.” Candace shook her head. “And Chris’s okay with all of it? With the adoption? It’s a huge step.”
I looked out the window at Darius and the girls. They were laughing and running in circles, chasing each other around the yard. The sight of him so happy made me melt.
“He is. We’ve talked about it and talked about it. He admitted he was worried, but Chris knows how much this means to me,” I replied. “It’s been an adjustment, but I think Darius surprised him. Chris loves having a little boy around the house.”
“He’s so sweet. And the girls act like he’s always been here. It’s like they’ve adopted him, too!”
“Darius walked in the door and stole Chris’ heart,” I explained. “It’s been really good for him. They play baseball and throw the football. They wrestle a little and tease each other. All of those ‘dad and son’ things.”
“Sounds like how Marcus would be,” Candace laughed. “If we tried for another baby, we probably end up with triplets—all girls. Marcus would kill me. I think things are super busy and too hectic now…”
I paused and thought about Chris and Darius. “We’re worn out, too, sometimes. I’m juggling the job at the station. Chris is still a workaholic—I’m not sure that will ever change. And going out on his own has been tougher than he thought. Definitely not for the faint of heart. But he’s making it work.” I reminded myself that it had only been a year. There was still time and the company was still young. If anyone could do it, it was Chris.
“Speak of the devil,” Candace glanced up as Chris walked back into the room.
“Hey, now. I’m a good guy,” my husband argued. “Did you tell Candace about your big news yet?”
“News?” Candace asked.
I scooted forward on the loveseat, just enough that the locket Candace gave me bounced against my chest. “I should tell you, first, that you’re the reason for me doing this.”
Candace looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Reason for what?”
“After the crazy incidents with Alyssa, what happened with Chris at work, and the fire, Drew made a comment about me writing a book…a memoir.”
“Wow!” Candace exclaimed.
“At first, I didn’t take it seriously. Then, I kept thinking about what I found in Mother’s room before the fire—her journal about motherhood, her job, me as a child—and I decided I should write it up. After talking to Mother on some of her good days, I added a few chapters and a forward. It’s really about Mother and her life. A tribute to her work, the lives she touched, and the lessons she taught me.”
“She let me read it,” Chris interrupted. “And I loved it so much I talked her into sending it to a few agents. Melissa argued with me at first, but then I told her she should just believe in herself. Like the necklace you gave her.”
I grasped the delicate chain and folded my fingers around the pendant.
“That did it,” I said. “Once Chris said, ‘Believe,’ I couldn’t get it out of my mind. So, I did some research and sent out about a dozen e-mail queries.”
Candace pressed her fingertips to her lips. “So, what now?”
I held up my cell. “This e-mail came just before you brought the girls over. Chris is the only one who’s seen it.”
Candace grabbed my phone, turning it around so that she could read the screen.
Dear Mrs. Moore,
Thank you for the opportunity to review your work. We’ve enjoyed the first pages. Please send the rest of the manuscript at your earliest convenience.
Candace started hopping around Chris. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” She grabbed a candlestick from the mantel. “Ladies and gentleman. I give you soon-to-be-author Melissa Moore!” She began to dance around the room, shaking the lampshades and pic
ture frames.
Mother lifted her head and made a face. “What’s all the fuss?” she demanded sleepily.
Candace stopped and sunk down in the nearest chair. “Congratulations!” she whispered.
I dissolved into a fit of giggles. Chris turned red and bent over, trying not to laugh.
Mother clapped her hands at all of us. “You’ve all lost your minds. Can someone turn up the television? I can’t hear a word!”
Chris retrieved the remote, pressed the volume button until it reached a reasonable level and handed it to Mother. She craned her neck to see around Candace.
“Don’t let the girls hear this,” Candace warned. “They’ll be in here wanting to watch The Disney Channel . You’ll never get the remote back.”
Mother clutched the remote to her chest like it was the Hope Diamond.
“No chance of that,” I joked. “They’d have to fight Mother for it. When it comes to a show Mother wants to watch, they wouldn’t have a prayer.”
“Shh,” Mother hushed everyone. “I’m trying to listen.”
The WSGA six o’clock news promo ran. Rick and I beamed at the camera. Just as the screen faded to black, the strains of some familiar music peaked my attention.
“Oh, look, it’s the new promo, too,” I said to Chris.
A photo of a child floated to the center of the screen. Rick did the voiceover. “ There are no unwanted children. ” Another picture drifted down and covered the first one. It was a family portrait, the child with his adopted parents and siblings. “ Just unfound families. Join Melissa Moore and the WSGA team for a special series. Adoption: The Forever Gift.”
Mother pointed the remote at the television and turned down the volume. She shook her head and sighed happily. “That’s my daughter,” she smiled.
Stunned, I caught my breath and looked at Chris, then over at Candace.
My best friend in the world smiled and shook her head. “Well, wonders never cease.
What’s next, Melissa? Tackle the world? Go work for the Travel Channel ?”
“Drew would have a heart attack,” I laughed. “But I could do a family travel show. Darius could help me rate theme parks and children’s museums.”