Finally Satisfied (4 page)

"Just be still, Angel. Try to breathe a
little slower."

"Mitch? What are you doing here? How did you
find me?" She tried to pull the cannula away, but he grabbed both
her hands and held them.

"I didn't. We just came out of a shop down
the street and heard someone calling for a doctor." He could see
color returning to her cheeks and her breathing had already slowed.
"Okay, no talking for a few minutes. Just breathe." Mitch checked
her pupils, then pulled a blood pressure cuff from his bag and
wrapped it around her arm.

Her eyes never left his face, her brow
furrowed in confusion.

"What?" Mitch removed the cuff, satisfied
with her blood pressure.

"You’re a doctor?"

"Yeah. You didn't know that? How could you
not know?"

Her cheeks flushed and she looked away.

"You never bothered to ask, right?" Why was
he surprised? She'd never wanted to know anything about him, about
his life. But he'd assumed she would have heard from someone, might
have seen his graduation announcement in the paper. Something.

"I'm sorry."

Mitch rocked back on his heels. "Well, you're
full of surprises today." An apology from Angel was one of the last
things he'd ever thought he'd hear.

He reached his hand out and she slid hers
into it. "Think you're ready to sit up?"

Angel nodded and he pulled her gently forward
until she was upright. The crowd, no longer interested since she
seemed in no danger of dying, had drifted away. "Want to tell me
what happened?"

"Panic attack." She looked away, then back
again. "I get them sometimes. I forgot to take my medication this
morning."

"I suppose it would be too much to ask you to
make an appointment with my office on Monday and come in for a
checkup?"

Her chin came up and her gaze locked on his.
"Not a damned chance."

Mitch sighed. Why did everything have to be
such a battle with her? "Have you talked to a psychologist about
these attacks?"

"No. Just my family doctor."

He pulled a business card out of his wallet,
wrote a name and number on the back, and handed it to her. "Think
about making an appointment with Vanessa. I think you'll find her
particularly understanding. She's been in your shoes." He stood and
held out his hand. "Come on. We'll give you a ride home."

CHAPTER THREE

Angel turned the card over and looked at the
name for the tenth time. It was a pretty name. Too pretty for a
psychologist. Vanessa Dean sounded more like the name of an actress
or a singer. So how did Mitch know her? One of his girlfriends? Or
just a colleague?

She put the card back on her desk and tried
to concentrate on the retouching she needed to finish. The wedding
album was due to the newlyweds in just two weeks and if she didn't
hurry, she'd miss the deadline.

Six hours later, the touch ups were complete
and the pictures on their way to the lab. Angel stood and
stretched, then winced when various bruises and sore muscles from
the fall made their presence known. At least she'd managed not to
slam her head into the concrete.

She wandered down the stairs to the kitchen
and opened the refrigerator. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her
she'd had very little to eat all day. Nothing looked appealing, but
she needed to eat so she settled for tortilla chips and salsa. She
carried them into the den where her mother was watching Extreme
Makeover.

Angel wished she could ask her mother to
change the channel. The show made her sad, even though she was
happy for the families who deserved the new homes. But so many of
them had lost so much--a family member, a home to a fire, children
with serious diseases or disabilities. Those were the ones who got
to her the most. But her mother loved the show and wouldn't miss a
moment.

She thought about going back upstairs, but
she needed a change of scenery so she settled on the couch and
propped her feet on the coffee table. At least the star of the show
was easy to look at. He reminded her a little bit of Mitch.

Mitch. Who would have thought he was a
doctor? And why hadn't she ever bothered to ask what he did for a
living? Because she didn't want to know any more about him than
absolutely necessary. The less she knew, the easier it was to
ignore him. She shouldn't be too surprised, though. He was always
trying to fix things. And people. Especially her.

A laughing group of kids on the television
drew her attention. As she listened, she forgot all about the chips
and salsa. The family chosen for this week's makeover was an
eclectic group of adopted children, ranging in ages from three to
seventeen. Seven children in all. The parents seemed to genuinely
love each and every one, hugging easily, ruffling their hair as
they talked about the need for additional bedrooms as their family
grew.

As she watched, she could see how happy and
well-adjusted the children were. They were good students, athletes,
popular at school, comfortable in their place in the family. They
all seemed to love and respect their parents.

The oldest boy captured her attention. Clean
cut and handsome, he talked about his desire to go to college so he
could become a doctor. He hoped to adopt children of his own
someday so that other children could have as happy a home as he
had.

Angel caught her mother watching her before
Anna quickly turned back to the television.

Okay, so there was one family out there who
had given adopted children a happy home. That still didn't mean her
son had found the same thing.

***

Mitch closed the door behind the last patient
of the day and returned to his desk to check his email. He'd sent
out some inquiries about his nephew's adoption and he was anxious
to see if there had been any response. But other than
patient-related information, nothing new had come in during the
day.

He knew he was taking a huge risk. His
brother would probably never speak to him again, and he wasn't too
sure Angel would appreciate his interference, either. But he'd
started this quest several years earlier and he couldn't seem to
give it up. He'd placed contact info on a number of different
sites, with no results.

He really only wanted to know the boy was in
good hands, that he was happy and healthy, so he could put Angel's
mind at ease and maybe help her to finally forgive herself for
giving him up. And he had to admit he was curious, too. Did the boy
look like Eric, or did he favor Angel? Was he smart, did he like
sports, was he a good kid or in trouble? Did he need anything? And
as a doctor, he wanted to know if the child had any medical
problems.

After seeing Angel collapsed on the ground
from an anxiety attack, he was even more determined to find her
son. Maybe it was time to take the next step.

The phone rang and Mitch thought about not
answering. It was after office hours, and he should already be
gone. The service would let him know if it was an emergency. But
what if it was Angel? He snatched up the receiver. "Dr.
Turner."

"Dr. Turner, this is Dr. Dean."

"Vanessa. How are you?"

"I'm good, Mitch. You asked me to let you
know if Angel Kensington made an appointment. She called just
before the office closed and is coming to see me on Friday."

Mitch breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you
so much for calling." Finally. If Angel followed through with this,
then maybe, just maybe, there was hope for her after all.

***

"Hey, we're going bowling Friday night. Do
you want to come along?" Cara tossed the shoe catalog on the coffee
table and leaned back against the couch. "I need a break from
wedding stuff. I don't think I'm ever going to find the right
shoes."

Angel shook her head. "No, I have something
planned Friday afternoon and I don't know how long it will
take."

"A photography something or a date
something?" Cara asked.

"Neither. An appointment." She hesitated, not
sure she should tell Cara what she was doing. But she needed to
tell someone, and Cara had been right when she'd said Angel needed
help. "Actually, I have an appointment with a psychologist."

"Really? Oh, thank God!" Cara's smile lit up
her whole face. "You've suffered for way too long. I'm so glad
you're getting some help."

"Yeah, well, how much help she'll be remains
to be seen, but you're right. I should have done this years ago.
But when we were teenagers, no one went to a psychologist except
vain housewives or really crazy people, you know? We were just
expected to put on our big girl panties and deal with it."

"Yeah, you're right. And I should have
encouraged you to do it a long time ago, but I never realized just
how bad things were for you until lately. We haven't exactly spent
a lot of time together these last few years."

"I know, and that's mostly my fault. I just
felt like everyone I met knew what I'd done and they were judging
me for it. I know that's stupid. Only a few people had any idea."
Angel twisted her hands together. "That sounds silly now. But it
was a very real phobia for me and I'm only now learning to deal
with it."

Cara moved to sit by Angel and took her hand.
"You know none of us thought any less of you. I always thought
giving him up for adoption was a very brave and selfless thing to
do."

Angel brushed a tear away. "Really?"

"Really. Now tell me who you're seeing and
how you found them."

"Her name is Dr. Vanessa Dean and Mitch
recommended her." Angel pulled the card out of her pocket. "She has
an office downtown."

Cara took the card, looking at the front
first before turning it over. "If Mitch recommended her, she must
be good."

"Why didn't you tell me Mitch was a doctor? I
felt like such an idiot when I found out."

"You didn't know?" Cara looked at her like
she'd lost her mind. "How could you not know?"

Angel shrugged. "I guess I didn't want to
know. I never asked."

"But I know Gray's mentioned it, and I'm
pretty sure I have."

"It doesn't matter. I'm not going to be one
of his patients."

"I'm not one, either. It would be too weird
to go to Gray's cousin for an exam. I'm sure he understands that."
Cara handed the card back to Angel. "How long have you been seeing
her?"

"A month. Ever since I had that panic attack
at the park. I knew I couldn't keep living like this. She's really
nice, and the best part is, she understands. She gave a child up
for adoption, too. That's the main reason she got into psychology
in the first place. As a way to deal with it."

"She sounds perfect." Cara hugged Angel. "I'm
so proud of you!"

Angel took a deep breath and smiled. "I'm
kind of proud of me, too. I'm making progress. I still have a ways
to go, but I haven't had a panic attack in two weeks and the idea
of seeing Mitch doesn't bring one on, so maybe I'll be able to
handle a week on the mountain when the time comes."

"I hope so, sweetie. The last thing I want to
do is cause you more pain. But the week up there will be magical.
It's going to be so much fun."

Fun was something almost foreign to Angel.
She felt like she didn't deserve to have any, avoided circumstances
where she might actually have fun. That was supposed to be one of
the things they addressed on Friday. How she could stop punishing
herself for something she really hadn't been able to control in the
first place. How to deal with the shame she felt, when there was
nothing to be ashamed of. She'd done what was best for her
child.

"You know what? Maybe I will go bowling with
y'all after all, if that's okay. My appointment is over at
five."

"That would be great. We aren't going until
six, anyway. But Angel, I have to tell you. Mitch is coming,
too."

Mitch. Could she do it? She hadn't seen him
since she started therapy. And it wasn't Mitch who was the real
problem. He looked too much like Eric, and she still held a lot of
resentment toward Eric and his parents. They'd said some pretty
ugly things back then, had threatened to come up with other boys
who'd say she'd had sex with them if she tried to press the
paternity issue. But like Dr. Dean said, people tend to get very
emotional in circumstances like that and say things they don't mean
and wouldn't normally say.

It was possible they'd all grown up since
then. And Mitch wasn't Eric. That's one thing she had managed to
come to terms with over the last month. "Well, I can't promise how
long I'll stay, but I will try. I need to confront this head on, so
I might as well get started."

"You sure?" Cara held her breath, praying
Angel wouldn't change her mind.

"Absolutely."

"How about we make a day of it? Go to lunch,
shop for shoes, you can go to your appointment, then we'll go
bowling. Might make it easier if you ease into it."

"That sounds like fun. Reggie too? I really
like her. In fact, I like all of your friends. And you--you're
pretty okay for a kid sister."

***

Angel tried on yet another pair of shoes,
this one a sling-back sandal. "You know what the problem is with
these shoes?"

"What?" Cara winced when she stood in the
impossibly high heel she'd just tried on. "The fact that they all
kill your feet in two seconds flat?"

"Well, there is that. But think about it.
We're going to be outside. Even though there will be a carpet
runner so we won't be standing in the snow, we're going to get
frost bite in these things. What we need are some funky white boots
with fur trim to match the jackets."

Cara grabbed her shoulders and spun her
around to face her. "You, big sister, are a genius! That would be
perfect. Okay, let's spread out and see what we can find."

Reggie found them first. Ankle high, with
three inch heels and white fur around the top. They would be
perfect with the dresses. Angel found matching gloves and ear muffs
in the next department.