The Healing Place (10 page)

That was the main reason she didn’t want to become involved with Mark. He’d married Denise Johnson for the same reason: because she looked good on his arm. Emma wanted more. She wanted someone to love her for herself, not for prestige or wealth.

“I came to realize I deserved better than to be married to a man who disliked me,” she said.

Mark’s quizzical expression showed his confusion. “You’re right about that, Emma. And yet, you still wear his ring. I thought you still loved the guy.”

“It’s my ‘no pest’ strip.” She gave a shaky laugh. “It keeps men from hitting on me.”

She had confided much more than she’d intended. A small part of her wished she and Mark could be close again—

“So…Darcy can get you set up with your next appointment,” she hedged.

His eyes filled with unasked questions, but she didn’t want to answer them. She headed for the door.

“How can you lecture me about God, Emma? You live in your sterile world with no one to care about and nothing to lose. It sounds very comfortable and safe.”

A lash of pain ripped through her chest and she anchored her grip on the doorknob. It hurt so bad, she thought there must be blood on the floor. If only he knew all she had lost, he’d eat his words.

She turned to leave.

“Emma, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that I’m afraid.”

She hesitated, her back to him. It must have taken a lot for him to admit his fear and to apologize for hurting her. Neither the old Mark nor David would have done such a thing.

“No, you’re right, Mark. I’ve tried to keep myself safe so I won’t be hurt again.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder. Her heart melted at the site of his handsome face torn with anguish. “But my plan failed the moment you and Angie walked into my life.”

Stepping out into the hall, she headed straight for her office, praying he didn’t try to stop her. She didn’t know what she’d do if he pushed the issue.

Her heart pounded. Three more steps and she entered her sanctuary, closing the door behind her. Leaning her head against the smooth paneling, she tried to steady her rapid breathing.

She laughed out loud. What good was she to Mark when she couldn’t be strong for herself? And yet, something had broken loose inside her. Something she didn’t understand. She was consumed with the desire to help heal Angie and to believe the Lord wanted the best for them. Something else sat on the fringes of her mind. Something she couldn’t understand.

Please, God! Please help me save this child.

Would God answer her simple prayer this time?

I am here, my child. I have heard every plea from your heart.

Emma gasped and looked around. The words sounded as clear as if someone stood right beside her, speaking into her ear.

“Show me the way, Heavenly Father. Please show me what I must do to help Angie.”

A flash of insight opened in her mind. It speared her with such powerful intelligence and light that her entire being filled with it. Within seconds, she knew what she should do, what treatment she should suggest to the doctors at U.C.S.F.

Of course! She should have thought of it before. It seemed so simple and yet it had eluded her and the other doctors.

The next step would be the hardest she had ever taken. She had resolved to trust in God, but what if she failed again? What if she was wrong?

You will not fail. I am with you.

No longer hesitant, she walked to her desk, then picked up the telephone and dialed the number for Larry Meacham at the U.C.S.F. hospital. If this was what the Lord wanted, then she must have faith. Angie’s life depended on it.

F
riday was a hectic day. Instead of going golfing or attending conferences like other doctors, Emma kept her office open for appointments. Work kept her from dwelling on Mark and Angie.

By three o’clock in the afternoon, she found herself longing to seek some sunshine and fresh air. Her last patient had just left, so she stunned herself and her staff by giving them the rest of the day off. Their gasps of pleasure delighted her and she smiled as they shut off their computers and dashed for their purses and car keys.

After she locked up the office, Emma headed out on McCarran Boulevard, driving toward Highland Cemetery.

Thump, thump, thump!

Now what?

She pulled off to the side of the road and got out to inspect her car.

A flat tire.

She took a deep inhale of hot summer air. Cars whizzed past, but not a service station or convenience store in site. Being stranded on the road in this heat was not her idea of fun.

She wiped beads of perspiration from her upper lip and considered her options. Could she fix the tire herself?

No, she had no idea where to begin.

Call her ex-husband?

He’d resent her for pulling him away from work. She’d rather try to change it herself.

What about roadside service? She had coverage through her insurance company, but it always took so long. In this heat, the wait could prove miserable.

She popped the engine hood to signal she was in trouble, then got back in the car and reached for her cell phone. When she called the service, they confirmed her fear it would take a while for a mechanic to arrive.

So much for her free afternoon.

She settled in for the long haul, running the air conditioner, her hands resting on the steering wheel. She stared out her windshield, wishing she had a book to read.

Sunshine blazed across the brown hills surrounding the city and she longed for the water bottle she’d left sitting on her desk. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander. Bitter memories swamped her as she recalled years earlier when she and Brian had been stranded with a flat. When her husband arrived, he’d berated her for driving over a nail, as if she’d done it on purpose.

The sound of a car close by caused her to open her eyes. A blue Lexus pulled up behind her and she tensed, sitting up straight. She pressed the lock button on the door and reached for her phone. Though the road was quite busy, she wanted to play it safe.

A tall, slender man got out of the Lexus. Her pulse sped up and a warm sensation flowed over her as she tilted her head to get a better look in her rearview mirror. He sauntered toward her car in that confident, self-assured amble she’d committed to memory years earlier.

“Oh, no.” She groaned and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel.

Mark Williams wearing a dark suit and tie tapped on the glass and she lifted her head. As her eyes locked with his, he flashed her a dimpled smile and she rolled the window down.

“Hi, there.” He sounded so friendly she couldn’t help smiling back. “I was just passing by on the other side and thought it looked like you over here. You broken down?”

Relief, fear, happiness and dread fogged her brain. She tried to make sense of it all and decided to feel relieved for the time being.

“Yeah, I’ve got a flat.”

“You got a spare?” He took off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder, looking more handsome than a man had a right to.

“I think so, but I just called a roadside service.”

“Call them back and cancel. By the time they get here, I’ll have it changed. Pop the trunk, will you?”

Without waiting for her reply, he walked to his car where he tossed his jacket through the open window onto the front seat, pulled his tie free and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. She popped the trunk and reached for her phone, then got out of her car. As she dialed the number for the roadside service, she stood there watching Mark work.

Like a pro mechanic, he rummaged around in her trunk for the jack and spare tire.

“Well, this is a big change.” She couldn’t keep the amusement from her voice as she pocketed her phone and came to stand beside him.

He grunted as he lifted the new tire from her trunk. “What is?”

“You changing a flat tire. I seem to remember you got hauled into the principal’s office for letting the air out of Mr. Needham’s tires on more than one occasion.”

Mr. Needham had been their geometry teacher and all the kids in school had hated him.

Mark gave a deep laugh. He had a streak of grease on his chin. “Yeah, I remember that. I had to dump the trash and clean every chalkboard in the school for two months. The only reason I didn’t get suspended was because we had a regional playoff the next day and they needed me on the team.”

How true. With Mark’s natural athletic ability, he had led their football team to a state championship every year. No way was the school principal about to jeopardize that victory because of Mr. Needham’s flat tires.

“I think you let the air out of Gary Crane’s tires, too.”

Gary had been the school nerd, and Mark had picked on him for no other reason.

He met her eyes and she saw remorse in their green depths. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t too nice back then and I really regret it. I could have made Gary’s life easier, not more difficult. I wish I could make it up to him somehow.”

His admission stunned her. As he turned his attention back to her car, she didn’t argue, but he seemed so different now. So friendly, generous and real. The man of her dreams. Yet, she had learned long ago that dreams rarely came true.

While Mark worked, she couldn’t help admiring his muscled arms. “I hate to put you out and get your hands and clothes dirty.”

“No worry, they’ll clean up fine.” His voice sounded muffled as he bent over the jack and began to loosen the bolts. “There’s your problem.”

“What?”

He pointed and she stood beside him. “Your tires are bald. You can see the steel belts coming through.”

She peered at the shimmer of steel on the flat tire and wondered why she hadn’t noticed before. A quick glance at her other tires told her they weren’t in much better shape.

With a flip of his long fingers, Mark spun a bolt free. “As soon as you get the chance, you should take your car into a dealer and change all your other tires. You don’t want to face winter roads on these wheels.”

She agreed. “Yes, thank you for pointing it out. If you hadn’t said something, I would have continued driving on them.”

“You’re welcome. Most husbands take care of these things.”

She snorted.

“I take it your husband was the exception. He didn’t like to be bothered?”

Yes, that described David perfectly.

“Are you kidding? I’ve always taken my own car in for service and filled my own tank with gasoline. I guess I’ve neglected it lately.”

Mark worked for a time in silence and she watched with rapt attention. Thinking it might help if she found herself in this predicament again, she began asking lots of questions about the process. He answered patiently and she felt drawn to the deep timbre of his voice.

Once he got the flat tire off, he rolled it away and wiped his damp brow with his forearm. He lifted the new tire into place and let her help him tighten the bolts. Within minutes, they finished the chore. She couldn’t describe her feeling of euphoria. She had just learned to change a tire. Why did it have to be Mark Williams that made her feel this way? How could she still have feelings for this man?

“Thanks for teaching me what to do.” She eyed her dirty fingers with a grimace.

“You’re welcome.”

Amazement filled her. Gone was the conceited athlete, replaced by a friendly, caring man. His hair fell into his eyes, his hands black with grime. A glaze of perspiration shadowed his face and neck, and stained the back of his shirt and underarms.

“It sure is hot today.” Mark grinned as he placed the jack and flat tire in the trunk. “I think we’re both gonna need to clean up after this.”

She looked at her silk blouse and realized she also had rings of perspiration. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. She hated him to see her like this.

“I’ve got some wet wipes in the glove box.” She hurried to reach into her car.

When she returned, he had closed the trunk and dusted off his hands. He smiled his thanks as he took several wipes and they both cleaned the majority of the grime from their hands.

She eyed the new tire, all ready for use. “I’d forgotten you were so good with cars.”

He shrugged. “Back in high school, I could either repair them or walk, so I fixed the cars.”

When he stepped back, she took a settling breath.

“Angie’s gonna wonder what happened to me. I better get going.”

“Yeah, me, too. Thanks again, Mark. I really appreciate it.”

They each got into their own cars and he waited until she pulled onto the road. He followed her a short distance before he turned off to go retrieve Angie. It touched Emma deeply that he stayed close by long enough to ensure her car functioned properly. David would have sped away.

Somehow, things weren’t the same anymore. Mark’s presence in her life had rocked her world. It left her feeling insecure and shaky.

It left her wishing for things that could never be.

“Hi, Mrs. Perkins.” Mark greeted Angie’s child care provider. “Sorry I’m so late.”

Mrs. Perkins held her front door open for him, a pleasant smile on her face. “Hi, Mark. Come on in.”

As he stepped into her living room, the warm scent of something baking enveloped him and his stomach growled hungrily. He dreaded going home and trying to figure out what Angie might eat for dinner. Nothing seemed to appeal to her these days.

For just a moment he regretted not inviting Emma to dinner with him and Angie. He would have taken them out for Chinese or Mexican food. Anything but mac and cheese.

A quick scan of the cluttered room showed an absence of children. An umbrella stroller stood propped beside the wall of the entryway and various toys littered the green shag carpet.

Mark inhaled deeply. As usual, he was the last parent to pick up his child. He hated keeping Angie here so long, but Emma had needed him and he’d been glad to help her out.

“Angie, your father’s here,” Mrs. Perkins called.

As he followed her into the kitchen, he suffered a flicker of resentment when he thought of how Denise had abandoned them. As long as Mark lived, he would never understand why Denise had traded her family for a fling with a younger man. Deep in his heart, he would always mourn the death of his marriage.

Emma Shields filled his mind. Though he had just left her, he longed to see her again, just to talk and be near her. He couldn’t help comparing Emma to Denise and discovered that he had put Emma on a high pedestal of strength, warmth and caring. It felt good to help her out after all she’d done for Angie.

Mrs. Perkins stood beside Angie at the kitchen table. Mark saw a plate of freshly baked cookies sitting there. Denise had never baked for Angie and he was grateful to Mrs. Perkins for the homey environment she offered his daughter. Another small blessing. God had been so kind, providing a way over every obstacle.

Now, if the tumor would just begin to shrink…

Angie leaned over a jigsaw puzzle spread across the tabletop. “Ah, do I hafta go right now? I’m almost done with my puzzle, Dad.”

Moving to stand beside her, Mark looked down at the puzzle showing fields of yellow daffodils and windmills. Only a handful of pieces were missing to complete the picture.

“Let her finish, Mark,” Mrs. Perkins encouraged.

“Okay, hurry up. Then we’ll get some dinner. I’m starving.”

“Here, have some cookies,” Mrs. Perkins urged, pushing the plate toward him.

He couldn’t resist and took three cookies as Mrs. Perkins poured him a glass of milk.

“Thank you.” He accepted the milk, then took a deep swallow.

Mrs. Perkins led the way back into the living room. “Come sit down and visit with me while you wait for Angie.”

Mark followed and sat on the brown sectional sofa while she stooped to pick up toys and put them away. Now in her sixties and widowed, Mrs. Perkins showed energy uncommon in a woman her age.

“Thanks for all you do for Angie,” Mark said. “I’m very grateful. She loves being here.”

“It’s my pleasure. She tells me you have a new girlfriend.”

Mark almost choked on his milk and he tossed a glance toward Angie, who was happily unaware they were discussing her. “What?”

“She said it’s that lady doctor you’ve been taking her to…Dr. Shields, I think? Angie said she likes her a lot.”

“The doctor isn’t my girlfriend. She’s just Angie’s oncologist.”

Mrs. Perkins’s brows lifted. “Oh? It sounds as if Angie thinks it’s more than that.”

“We knew each other when we were younger.”

“Well, old friends can be the best. You already know if she has staying power.”

It had been Mark that had broken off with Emma all those years ago. He had been the one to quit, not her. That gave him something to think about.

“I’m glad Angie likes her,” Mrs. Perkins continued. “I haven’t seen your daughter smile since Denise left, and now she’s suddenly laughing and playing with the babies. Today, she tickled them. I’ve been wondering what the difference is and all I can figure is she’s getting better, or it’s Dr. Shields.”

A knowing smile lit up Mrs. Perkins’s face as she stood and went to gather up Angie’s backpack, jacket and hat.

Later in the car, Mark steered with his left hand while he rubbed Angie’s back with his right.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Fine, but the babies kept crying. They drove me nuts!”

He laughed, delighted she’d had a busy day. “Angie, Mrs. Perkins said you mentioned Emma today.”

Angie cast a quick glance at him, then shrugged. “Yeah, I told her about Sonja and the stickers she gives me, too.”

“Do you…do you
like
Emma?”

“Of course, Dad. She’s sad and all alone, just like us. She needs someone to love her. I need a new mommy and you need a new wife. Why not Emma?”