A New Leaf

by Thomas Kinkade

  “Molly? Hi, it’s me, Matthew.” Molly was so surprised to hear his voice, she nearly dropped the rolling pin on her foot.

  “Matthew . . . hi. How’s it going?” Upbeat, casual, and friendly, she reminded herself. The attitude magazine articles about dating advise so you don’t scare men off. As if an eligible male was a timid woodland creature. Like a chipmunk, for instance, Molly thought fancifully.

  “I’m in a bit of a bind. I was hoping you could help me out.”

  “Sure, what’s the problem?” Her heart plummeted. This wasn’t about anything personal, like a date. He just wanted a favor.

  “Do you think you could pick up Amanda today after school and keep her at your place for a while? I have an emergency. I have to check a little girl into the hospital. She needs surgery. It’s pretty serious. Thankfully her parents brought her to see me in time. But I wanted to stay here with them, see how it turns out.”

  She could hear the tension in his voice now, even over the static-filled connection. She felt guilty for her snide thoughts. He was dealing with a life-or-death situation, and she was worried about her social life.

  “Of course I’ll pick up Amanda. Don’t give it a second thought.”

  “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”

  Molly didn’t know what to say. At least he thought of her as a friend, someone he could turn to when he had a problem. That was something, right?

  “Amanda is old enough to stay home alone, of course. But I have no idea when I’ll be done here. Not before seven and it could be later.”

  “It’s no problem, really. She’ll be fine with us. Take all the time you need. And good luck with your patient. I hope it turns out all right.”

  “Thanks. Say a prayer for her, will you? The surgeon will need all the help he can get in there.” He paused and she could hear him talking to someone else in the background. A moment later he returned. “I have to run. See you later.”

  Molly said good-bye but suspected he’d already hung up. She wasn’t a prayerful person under normal circumstances. Growing up, she went to church every Sunday with her parents, who were still active at Bible Community Church, as was her brother, Sam. But somehow, somewhere Molly had fallen off the track. She didn’t have anything against church exactly. She just didn’t have much time to go, it seemed. Or if she had the time, she felt too tired to get herself out so early on a Sunday unless it was for a holiday like Easter or Christmas.

  She did believe in God . . . or something up there, watching over the whole messy works of the world. But as for prayer, Molly knew she was the type who only remembered God in a dire emergency. Then she prayed like a house on fire. She was sure the Lord found people like her annoying, like friends who only call when they need a favor.

  She had even told that to Reverend Ben once. He had found it so amusing, he asked if he could use it in a sermon. The reverend had promised her that God wasn’t like that at all. God didn’t hold grudges and was interested in hearing her prayers no matter when she offered them. Molly found the words reassuring but had only half-believed him.

  It seemed funny to her that Matthew would ask her to pray for his patient. The other night he’d mentioned he’d already joined Bible Community Church. She could tell he was a believer and seemed to assume she was, too.

  We’re going to need extra help tonight, he had said, recognizing that the fate of his young patient wasn’t completely in his hands or even in the hands of the surgeon. It must help him as a doctor to believe in some greater power, she realized. Or maybe that’s why he did believe. Because he dealt with life and death so closely.

  Molly brushed off her hands on her apron, closed her eyes, and took a long, steadying breath. Dear God, she silently began, please help Matthew’s patient. I hope her surgery turns out all right. Please comfort her parents, and help them to stay calm. Please comfort that little girl, too. I’m sure she must be very frightened right now. She thought for a moment, not knowing what else to say. By the way, she added, I know you don’t hear from me much, Lord, but Matthew asked me to call.

  She smiled to herself, realizing that she was being silly now. Yet somehow she had a feeling that the Lord didn’t mind a little joke now and then. He had to have a good sense of humor in order to have created humans, she thought.

  AS MOLLY HAD PREDICTED, AMANDA AND LAUREN WERE THRILLED TO spend some unexpected time together. By six o’clock there was still no word from Matthew, so Molly served the three girls dinner. Lauren had begged for tacos, not exactly a culinary challenge but appropriate for the setting and the impromptu guest, Molly thought, both of which are important considerations, as she’d learned last week in the first session of her catering course. “Let the food match the mood,” her instructor had advised.

  The mood seemed to be a free-for-all giggle fest, and it was survival of the fittest once Molly set the taco fixings on the table. Even Amanda forgot her impressive table manners and dove in up to her elbows, Molly noticed, which was probably a good thing. Amanda seemed to be growing accustomed to their chaotic household and though she was still shy and almost too well-behaved, Molly sensed she was opening up a bit.

  As the girls chatted about a TV show they wanted to watch after dinner, Molly’s thoughts wandered. She wondered what Amanda’s mother had been like. From the little Matthew had mentioned, it sounded as if his late wife had been quite intelligent and accomplished, the well-bred type. You could see it in the way Amanda conducted herself, as if she had gone to an old-fashioned finishing school.

  Molly bit into her taco, and it exploded in her hand. Nothing like me, of course, she thought, licking her saucy fingers. No wonder he hasn’t asked me out. No mystery there.

  “We’re done, Mom. Thanks, that was yummy.” Lauren spoke in a rush, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. “Can we watch TV until Amanda’s dad comes?”

  “Um, sure. As long as the homework is done.”

  “Thank you for dinner. The tacos were great,” Amanda said, carrying her plate to the sink.

  “You’re very welcome.” Molly smiled at her. Maybe she and Matthew would never be anything more than friends, but she felt genuine affection for his daughter.

  “I’m done, too. Can I go with them?” Jill asked, talking around a mouthful of food.

  “Sure, honey. Go ahead.” Molly finished the last bite on her plate and was tempted to fix another taco. She counted to ten and squelched the urge, chomping down on a carrot stick instead.

  She had taken Betty’s advice and made some cold calls, coming up with a few new prospects to see next week. She needed to look good in her new dress, and control-top panty hose could only get a person so far. Besides, after an hour or two, wearing control tops always gave her a whopping migraine. Probably squishing all the blood up to my head, she thought as she started the dishes, like squeezing a tube of toothpaste in the middle.

  Molly had just finished cleaning up when the door buzzer sounded. “Who is it?” she called. She was surprised to hear Matthew answer. He was earlier than she expected. She had hoped to have time enough to change her shirt and put on some lipstick, but it was too late now.

  What difference does it make? she thought, pulling open the door. It doesn’t seem as if this situation is going to take any romantic turns.

  “Hi, Molly.” He glanced at her with a weary grin. “Gee, something smells good in here, as usual.”

  “We just finished dinner—tacos. There are leftovers, if you want some.” Molly closed the front door and led him into the kitchen.

  The look on Matt’s face suggested that leftover tacos were the most appetizing offer he’d had in years. Then he shook his head and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets.

  “No, thanks. I really don’t want to trouble you.”

  “It’s no trouble.” Molly met his gaze, then pulled back. She didn’t want to be pushy. The man does not want tacos. What part of that sentence don’t you understand? she coached herself.

  “How about some coffee? I was j
ust making some.”

  “That would be great. I could use some caffeine just to get home,” he admitted with a laugh.

  Molly glanced over her shoulder and smiled. She took out two mugs and served the coffee with a dish of brownies she had on hand for dessert. She didn’t feel like calling the girls in yet, though. She was sure Lauren would smell the chocolate and come streaking into the room soon enough.

  “It was great of you to have Amanda over like this,” Matthew said as she joined him at the table. “I hope I can repay the favor sometime.”

  “It was no trouble,” Molly said honestly. “What happened with your patient? Did the surgery go okay?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, she came through with flying colors. She’s in the ICU tonight, but she won’t be there long.”

  He looked exhausted but when he spoke about his patient, his smile widened and a light seemed to shine from deep within.

  “That’s good news. Her parents must be extremely relieved.”

  “Yes, they were. I was relieved to give them a good report, quite frankly. It’s so hard when children are involved. My heart really goes out to the parents. You know they’d move heaven and earth to help their child and they feel so helpless. They look to a doctor as if he’s a miracle worker. But sometimes, the miracles just don’t happen.”

  “That must be tough. My kids have only had health emergencies once or twice so far, thank goodness. I know what you mean about that desperate, terrified feeling. But I never thought about the pressure on the doctor. It must be awesome.”

  Matthew glanced at her. “ ‘Awesome’ is a real good word for it.” He picked up a brownie, looking lost in thought. Molly watched as he took a bite and chewed, his eyes slowly widening.

  “Speaking of the word, these brownies are awesome, as Amanda might say. Just what I needed.”

  Molly laughed, feeling a chill when he suddenly winked at her. “Black coffee and brownies aren’t exactly a balanced meal.”

  “Yes, I know. But it’s been one of those days when you have to go straight for dessert, if you know what I mean.”

  “Do I ever,” Molly commiserated with a laugh. She sipped her coffee, and their eyes met over the rim of her mug. A slow smile tilted up the corners of his mouth. She wanted to look away but couldn’t. She felt sure he wasn’t thinking about the brownies anymore. He was thinking about her and that was why he was smiling. She had promised herself she would be friendly to him and nothing more. This was starting to feel like something more . . . but she couldn’t quite stop herself.

  “That was fun last week, when we went out after the concert,” he said suddenly.

  Molly nearly choked on her coffee and set the mug down. “Yes . . . yes it was,” she agreed. Then she stopped herself. She didn’t want to start blabbing away and ruin it. Was he going to ask her out? Finally?

  She held her breath, waiting to see what he would say next.

  “I wanted to call you this week, but I got so busy with the office opening up—”

  “Oh, sure. I understand. How is that going? You didn’t even mention it.”

  “I’ve been swamped with patients. Ezra was right. People around here really have been waiting for a local doctor to move in.”

  The door buzzer suddenly sounded, and Molly jolted as if some invisible hand had reached down and shook her shoulder.

  “Would you excuse me a minute? I’ll just see who that is.”

  She rose and walked to the door, wondering who it could be. Her neighbor, maybe, needing to borrow something or dropping by to chat?

  She pulled open the door and found Phil standing there. He smiled widely, not seeming the least bit embarrassed by or apologetic for the unexpected visit.

  “Hey, Molly. How you doing? I was at my mother’s house tonight, and on my way home, I saw your lights on. I just wanted to say hello to the kids for a few minutes.”

  “Phil.” She stood in the doorway, blocking his entrance. “Don’t you ever think of calling first?”

  Phil peeked over her shoulder into the kitchen. She saw his expression change and was sure he had caught sight of Matthew sitting at the table. “Oh . . . sorry. I didn’t know you were entertaining. I just want to see the girls for a minute. I won’t be in your way at all,” he promised, giving her a look.

  Molly felt instantly infuriated. “You really need to call first, Phil. You can’t just drop in here any time you’re in the neighborhood.”

  He stared at her a moment, then dipped his head. “Sure. Sure thing. I know what you mean. I won’t do it again, really.”

  Molly could see that despite his apology, he wasn’t leaving. She sighed, not knowing what to do. She noticed Phil’s gaze shift and looked up to find Matthew standing beside her.

  “Hello, Phil,” Matthew said cordially. “We met the other night at the chorus concert.”

  “Sure, I remember. Matt, right? Good to see you again.” Phil leaned across Molly and shook Matthew’s hand. “Sorry to interrupt your evening. I just wanted to say hello to the girls.”

  “That’s all right. We really need to get going.” Matt glanced down at Molly. She thought she saw a flash of regret in his eyes but then wondered if she had imagined it. “I’ll just go pry Amanda away from the TV.” Before Molly could protest, he turned and walked back toward the living room.

  Molly glared at Phil, then turned her back on him and went inside. She didn’t invite him in, but he followed her anyway.

  “What? What did I do?” he asked innocently. “I didn’t mean to chase the guy out.” His tone was nearly a whisper, but Molly felt sure Matthew could hear. She felt doubly mad at Phil for the smirk on his handsome face. He seemed to be finding the entire situation highly amusing.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring him. He stood beside her quietly for a moment, then leaned toward the table.

  “Hmm. Brownies. May I?” he asked politely.

  “Help yourself,” Molly said tightly.

  Matthew appeared with Amanda, who looked reluctant to go. Lauren followed, also wearing a long face.

  “Hi, sweetie,” Phil greeted her brightly. She barely glanced at him. Was the novelty wearing off? Molly wondered.

  “Hi, Dad,” Lauren replied. She quickly turned to Molly, grabbing onto her arm. “Can Amanda sleep over on Friday night? Pul-eassse?”

  It was Matthew who answered. “I’m sorry, honey. Amanda and I are going into Boston for the day on Saturday. We need to leave very early so it wouldn’t work out.”

  “Another time, I guess,” Molly promised Lauren. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Lauren refused to give up. “Maybe next weekend?”

  “We’ll see,” Molly said almost automatically.

  Molly followed Matthew and Amanda to the door. “Well, good night. Thanks again.” Their eyes met briefly.

  Molly felt odd. She yearned for some sign that Matthew intended on calling and finishing the conversation Phil had interrupted. But what could she say? Everything that came to mind seemed far too obvious.

  “Have a nice time in Boston,” she finally offered.

  Wow, did that sound original and witty or what?

  She watched briefly as they walked down the hallway, then closed the door.

  Phil was sitting at the kitchen table with Lauren and Jill. Jill was showing him a report she had written on ancient Egypt. She had gotten an A on it and was very proud.

  Phil was making all the right responses. “Wow, what a great cover. Did you draw that yourself?”

  Jill nodded. “Look at this one.” She flipped some pages to show a drawing of a mummy. “That’s my favorite.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Phil said thoughtfully. He turned to his older daughter. “How about you, Lauren? Anything interesting going on in school this week?”

  Lauren shrugged. “The usual. We had a big math test.”

  “How did you do?” Phil asked.

  “Not too bad. B plus,” Lauren reported.

  “Can I see it?”
Phil asked.

  Lauren seemed surprised at the request, Molly noticed, but got up from her seat. “Okay. It’s in my backpack.” She left the room, and Phil looked up at Molly.

  “Just trying to keep up with what they’re doing in school. It’s important, right?”

  “No argument there,” Molly said tightly. Had he been taking dad lessons in his spare time lately?

  She was steaming mad at him but wasn’t sure what to do about it. She didn’t want to blast him right in front of the girls and look like the bully again.

  But she still had to have a talk with him, a serious talk. Yes, she was angry because his surprise visit had interrupted her conversation with Matthew just as it seemed he was about to ask her out. But it was more than that. Much more. Phil couldn’t just walk in here anytime he liked. He didn’t live here anymore. He seemed to have suddenly forgotten that small important detail.

  Molly decided to retreat and regroup. “I think I’ll take a little walk while you guys visit. I could use some fresh air.”

  Phil and the girls looked at her curiously. “It’s really cold out there,” he warned her.

  “That’s all right,” Molly said, heading for the door. “I really need to cool off. I’ll be back in about twenty minutes and then you can go, Phil. Right?”

  He met her gaze. “Uh, sure. That sounds fine.”

  Molly pulled on her jacket and stalked out of the apartment. She headed down Main Street at a brisk pace but felt a stinging cold wind as she neared the harbor. At the end of the street, the steamy windows and warm yellow lights inside the Beanery looked inviting. No, Molly thought. If she went in, she would surely run into one of the owners, Jonathan or Felicity Bean, or someone else she knew, and she was in no mood for small talk.

  She turned and walked back up the other side of the street, the wind against her back. She was still so angry at Phil, she could hardly see straight. Walking seemed to help clear her head and slow her racing heartbeat. It didn’t, though, change her determination to confront him.

  When Molly came in she heard the girls and Phil in the bedroom. She slammed the door theatrically.