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Authors: Deneice Tarbox

BOOK: Luca's Dilemma
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He also loved the fact that she was very astute at household maintenance, which further reduced their need for direct communication and allowed him to admire her figure from a distance without the complications of conversation. It was a nice change since Richard had been daft when it came to repairs and had kept him busier than sin with the old house.

Luca would often catch his tenant on her free evenings setting up an easel or sketching on a giant pad at random places on the large property, always with a glass of red wine to keep her company. She seemed to favor the pond most. Although he’d only seen her artistic creations from a distance, he was impressed at how good she was. The air of serenity she gave off during those moments did something to Luca’s soul to the point of tempting him to join her at times. But Luca knew firsthand that serenity could be a bitch to come by and he purposely willed himself not to disturb her solitude. The pond was where he expected to find her now and hoped like hell he would reach Chino before the horse could stir up trouble.

Just as he was about to broach the bank leading down to the pond, he spotted Chino. “Come here, boy,” he whispered loud enough for the horse’s ears only. To his surprise, the horse stopped dead in its tracks. As Luca drew closer, he realized the animal hadn’t acknowledged its owner at all. Something by the pond had captured the stallion’s attention.

Luca quietly came to stand beside the animal, curious to see what had captured the beast’s attention. Sitting in the green clearing, with her arms secured snuggly around her knees and her head tucked close to her body, was his formidable neighbor. At first, Luca thought she was praying. But then her sobs reached his ears, sobs so powerful they racked her whole body. Her sudden vulnerability triggered an unexpected twisting in his gut. She looked so lost and alone. He had never seen her like this and couldn’t help but wonder what had her so torn up.

To his dismay, Luca felt his face flush from his rising anger toward whatever, or whoever, had brought this on. He’d never considered himself to be a compassionate man, but he was suddenly overwhelmed with sympathy for the vixen in front of him. These newfound feelings put him at a crossroads. For the first time in his life, he felt the urge to step outside his boundaries of selfishness and take on the problems of another human being outside his family. But the selfish person he’d always been chided that it wasn't his problem and encouraged him to walk away.

Torn, he continued to watch the tortured woman in silence from where he stood, his rage growing with every involuntary vibration of her delicate shoulders. Eventually, his desire to respect her privacy overruled all empathy.

“Come on, boy,” he whispered to Chino before gently grasping the horse's reins. “Let’s give the lady some privacy, shall we?” Turning the animal in the direction of the barn, Luca noiselessly guided him away.

Chapter 3

The second week of September was unusually warm in Maine. Business was slow at the sleep lab, and tonight they were only expecting three patients instead of the usual four. Good thing because Sheila was running late, having received a call from her parents just as she was about to head out the door for work.

Leave it to her image–driven mother to make her feel like the world’s most prominent underachiever with the stroke of a few words. It hurt like a son–of–a–gun that her parents always insisted on finding blame in her decisions rather than attempting to get to the heart of her actions or accepting her for who she was. Once again, she’d been bombarded with questions about her sudden departure from Atlanta and what they both considered to be an utterly uncouth exchange of “an ideal suitor and adequate career” for “a life of utterly reprehensible nonsense.”

However, her parents’ lack of sensitivity to Sheila’s circumstances wasn’t completely their fault. After the massive coaxing it had taken to keep her brother from abandoning his military post for the sole purpose of annihilating her ex–lover, she’d thought it wise not to enlighten her overprotective parents about Ahmed Burnet’s infidelity or the other bullshit he was trying to pull just yet. Not only did the Leighs and Burnets go way back and the details of her breakup risk ruining that, her parents had enough to worry about with their son so far away and putting his life in danger on a daily basis.

Somehow Sheila had hastily concocted the idea to convince her worried parents that Tina was going through some things and that her dear friend needed her close by. The lie had worked to stay their wretched inquisition… for the time being, anyway.

Remnants of the conversation still weighed heavily on her heart after she pulled into the virtually empty employee parking lot. Instead of getting out of her car right away and heading inside, she called April and told her it would be a few minutes more before her arrival. Sheila gazed out the windshield, not really seeing the small park in front of her as the same old desperate feelings of being stuck looking from where she was to where she wanted to be in life began bludgeoning the edges of her sanity.

Shutting her eyes tightly, she inhaled deeply, allowing the cooling air of the car to fill her lungs and cleanse her darkening mind. She exhaled the exchanged air forcefully, letting those noxious emotions seep from her body. “This isn’t the time to start feeling sorry for yourself.” A long, twelve–hour shift dedicated to improving the lives of others awaited her, and it wouldn’t be fair to her patients or her co–worker if she brought the stink of her situation to work with her.

Realizing April would start to worry if she didn’t go in soon, Sheila plastered on a fake smile to cover up her foul disposition and forced herself to exit her beloved Beamer. However, her ever–thoughtful co–worker wasn't buying the fake smile.

“Sheila, honey, you don't look so good. Is everything all right?” the ever–benevolent April inquired the minute Sheila walked in the door. “Why are you scowling?”

The sound of her nurturing voice and the sincerity in the young woman's large hazel eyes touched Sheila in a way she couldn’t describe, instantly lightening her solemn mood. “I will be,” she responded, exchanging her fake smile for a genuine one.

“I’ll tell you what,” April started, attempting to place a rail–thin arm around Sheila's back. “Why don't I take two tonight? I know you've been putting up with your share of the twins more than the rest of us, and if anyone deserves a break, it's you.”

Normally, Sheila would’ve laughed at the slight against the twins and the sight she and April must be making at the moment with the much shorter and smaller woman trying to get her thin pale arm across Sheila’s back. At six feet even, Sheila literally towered over the tiny brunette. Gazing down at the top of April's head as it innocently rested alongside her huge breasts, Sheila couldn’t help but notice it resembled a perfect third boob in size as well as color. But instead of laughing, she felt moisture gathering in her eyes, brought on by April's kind attempt to console her.

“Are you sure, April?” she managed to get out in a normal voice despite the lump of gratitude that had formed in her throat.

“Positive,” April responded, dropping her arm from around Sheila and moving toward the closest monitoring station. “Besides, I already divvied the assignments that way when I heard how upset you sounded on the phone.”

Sheila felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment, grateful that April’s back was to her. In the world she came from, one didn’t burden acquaintances or co–workers with bad moods or personal drama. But now that she thought about it, April was no mere acquaintance. This was young, sweet, sometimes naïve, but candid April, the one person besides her neighbor, Janie, that she had grown fond of since moving to the cold–mannered North. This girl didn’t believe in too much laughter or that there was a wrong way to eat a salad.

Images popped in her head of how April often sat with her legs and feet bent every which way on her chair, her hazel eyes bright as stars, and her upper body bobbing about animatedly as she entertained Sheila with the most elaborate tales of her caring, but crazy, family. On more than one occasion, Sheila had found herself virtually stuffing her fist in her mouth, trying desperately not to wake the patients with her loud laughter while hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Warmth washed over her as the depth of her gratitude toward the young woman grew deeper.

“Thanks, April.”

“No problem,” April said, spinning around and giving Sheila a gentle squeeze. “Your patient is already in her room.”

***

“Those lying–ass Republicans!” the woman with spiky gray hair shouted at the television in front of her. Her agitation was palpable as she fidgeted in the small chair while Sheila stood behind her, trying her best to make measurements on the old woman’s head. Whipping her head around to face Sheila, the woman drew her cute little face into a frown, making the fissures earned by years of wisdom appear more pronounced. “Oh, excuse me, dear. But just listening to their nonsense drives me insane. I can't believe half the stuff that comes out of their mouths these days. And they wonder why no one likes them,” she ended, throwing her hands up in frustration.

Sheila did her best not to laugh. Ever since Obama had won his first election, she'd been bombarded with people trying to bond with her on a political level, all assuming she had wanted him to be president. She tried not to take it personally, not hinting to them that despite the color of her skin she could very well be a Republican. God knows how close she almost came to marrying one. With a deep breath, she forced herself not to think about Ahmed and all the years she had wasted with him, replacing the urge to do so with images of what the upcoming election years potentially had in store for her.

“Okay, Ms. Cote. I need to start applying the leads now,” Sheila warned her patient.

Ms. Cote was already engrossed in the television again, and Sheila took the woman’s silence as permission to proceed. Grabbing one of the golden cupped wires, Sheila filled it with paste and proceeded to place it next to her patient’s left eye. She’d started to fill her second gold cup and place it next to the right eye when the doorbell to the lab sounded.

“I got it!” April called out.

Sheila paused in her ministrations to close the door to Ms. Cote’s room. Some people were a little more modest than others, while others were a little nosier than they should be. She had learned the hard way not to take chances.

Returning to her task, she became lost in thought, allowing the tedious job to relax her. A tedious job it was indeed, but in the aftermath of Atlanta, it had been a lifesaver. The same could be said about her best friend, Tina. Good ol’ Tina had come through for her in her time of need. The look of utter shock on Tina's face when Sheila had arrived on her doorstep last fall was one not soon forgotten. At the time, Sheila couldn’t remember how she had gotten there, her emotions being in such turmoil and all. Apparently she had though, fleeing her once comfortable Atlanta suburban home and driving all the way to Buxton, Maine, without so much as a restroom stop.

Tina had been more than understanding, putting Sheila up in a spare bedroom and alerting her about the job postings at the hospital. Tina was the Director of Nursing for the same hospital that ran the sleep lab and had actually wanted Sheila to apply for Director of Respiratory Care. However, Sheila had seen the job for the lab and, having had experience in that area as an undergrad, applied for it instead. The job was much less stressful.

Not long after the wedding, Sheila and Tina’s new husband had switched households. The couple had been more than accommodating and had encouraged her to stay as long as she wanted. But after listening to them go at each other constantly like rabid bunnies and inadvertently interrupting a very intimate moment on their kitchen table, Sheila was more than ready to give them their privacy. She still couldn't bring herself to eat at that table whenever she dropped by for a visit and, to this day, still wondered how Tina had become so flexible, especially at their age of forty.

“You tell ’em!” Ms. Cote shouted, interrupting Sheila's thoughts.

Sheila stepped back in the nick of time, barely dodging the pale fist that flew up from the old woman in front of her, held akin to the black power sign. She stared in shock at the top of the now happy patient’s head with no doubt in her mind the woman could have taken her out had the fist made contact.

“I couldn’t agree with that reporter more.” The old woman threw her arms across her chest and nodded victoriously, causing Sheila to lose her battle with laughter.

As Sheila continued to stand a safe distance behind the elderly spitfire, trying to regroup, a knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” she called out, knowing it could only be April.

April leaped into the room like a world–class ballet dancer and pirouetted, her long brown ponytail flowing graciously behind her. The gaiety in her expressive eyes matched the broad grin she was sporting. “May I speak with you for a moment, please?” she asked, her perky lips barely moving.

“Sure. Please excuse me, Ms. Cote.”

“Certainly, dear. Take your time,” the older woman replied, not moving her gaze from the television.

Sheila recognized April’s excitement and knew it meant only one thing. However, she waited to broach the subject until the two of them moved out into the hallway beyond earshot of the patient rooms.

“We had a cancellation,” April notified her with glee, jumping up and down, and spinning simultaneously. “Who gets to go home?”

Sheila threw her head back in laughter. “I'd say, judging from the gleam in your eye, it should be you. I’ve already started on my patient, so I’m good.” Sheila couldn’t help but envy her co–worker’s enthusiasm and energy and wouldn’t have stood in the way of this moment if she could have. She had rent to pay. And, unlike her, April had a man at home who seemed to adore the hell out of her.

“Yippee!” April shouted before catching herself and placing her hands over her mouth. The normally pink hue of her face deepened into a rose red. “Sorry. It’s just I didn’t sleep well today.”

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