Chapter 14
“Sometimes the past is just better off staying there.”
â
Angel King
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After a thirty-minute drive to the suburbs, Angel found herself on Theresa McNair's doorstep. She rang the doorbell and ran her hands over her smock to smooth it out. Standing in front of the large brick Tudor was intimidating. It didn't matter that the people inside needed Angel much more than she needed them.
A striking but frail woman appeared at the door with a little girl in tow. “Are you Angel King?” the woman asked.
“Yes, and you must be Theresa McNair.” Angel extended her hand to her. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”
She shook Angel's hand. “Same here. And this is my baby, Morgan.”
“I'm not a baby,” argued the little girl in afro-puffs. “I'm almost four years old!”
Theresa laughed. “She doesn't like it when I call her a baby. Please come in.” She stepped aside to allow Angel to pass through. “And please, just call me Theresa.”
“You have a beautiful home,” observed Angel, admiring the elegant décor. She did notice that the living room was conspicuously absent of any family pictures.
“Thank you, but it's not the fixings that make this home special as much as it is the people in it.” Theresa extended her hand toward the sofa. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” Angel sat down and pulled out her checklist. “Basically, what I want to do today is meet your family, get to know you a little better, and tell you what you can expect throughout this process.”
Theresa sat down and invited Morgan to join her. “Well, there's not much mystery there. I'm going to die. I've accepted it, my husband's trying to accept it, and together, I'm hoping we can get the kids to accept it, too. Would you like some tea?”
“I would, thank you.” Angel was struck by how calm Theresa seemed as she poured the tea and spoke of her own death with the same ease one might show when talking about the weather. “I didn't realize you had a whole clan here. I sort of got the impression that you were a single parent.”
Theresa handed Angel her tea. “No, we're a family of four. My eight-year-old, Miley, is at ballet practice with her dad. We want to keep the kids' routine as normal as possible.”
Angel sipped her tea. “Will I be meeting Miley and your husband today?”
Theresa tensed up. “No, I just wanted the two of us to talk for now and kind of get a feel for one another, you know?”
“I understand.” Angel began pulling out papers from her bag. “I know that you probably want to know what my credentials are before turning your life over to me. I graduated with a degree in nursing seven years ago, got my mastersâ”
Theresa stopped her. “I'm more interested in getting to know you as a person, not as a nurse. After all, we're going to be spending a lot of time together, and you may very well be the person at my side when the Lord calls me home. If you're going to be around my husband and my kids, I want to know everything there is to know about Angel King.”
Angel was caught off guard. “Exactly what do you want to know?”
“Anything. Are you married? Do you have kids?”
Angel shook her head. “No husband and no kids. I got married really young, but we divorced several years ago. While I don't have any kids of my own, I do have a godson, Kenny, who I'm really close to.”
Theresa seemed surprised. “You've never thought about having kids?”
“Sure, I mean, what woman hasn't? I sort of gave up on it afterâ” Angel bit her lip, reluctant to reveal her most painful moments to a virtual stranger.
“After what?” pressed Theresa.
Angel swallowed the lump in her throat. “I was pregnant once, but I had a miscarriage soon after my ex-husband filed for divorce.”
“Oh, no! I'm so sorry to hear that.” The news appeared to hit Theresa particularly hard, which Angel found odd.
Angel set her cup back down on the table. “Don't worry. I'm fine now. Besides, I'm still young enough to have more kids if the timeâand the manâis right.”
“So, you want kids?”
“Someday, yeah. Until then, I have Kenny to fill that void. If anything ever happened to his mother, I wouldn't hesitate to raise him.”
Theresa was quiet, thoughtful. Angel suspected that she might be worried about what would happen to her own children after her death. Angel touched her hand. “Are you all right?”
“I'm sorry. I was just thinking about you losing your baby right after losing your husband. My kids and my husband mean everything to me. I just can't imagine what that must've been like for you.”
“Losing my marriage was tough, and losing my baby even tougher because I'd tried so hard to get pregnant.”
“What happened? With your husband, I mean. I can't imagine any man leaving his pregnant wife.”
“The same thing that always happens,” replied Angel, thrown by Theresa's line of questioning. “Someone comes along who's prettier or more exciting, and the wife you have at home doesn't seem so special anymore.”
“I'm sure it was more complicated than that. I don't think anyone, male or female, ever walks out on their family without agonizing over it first. People don't make that kind of decision lightly, especially when there are kids involved.”
“Duke never knew about the baby,” disclosed Angel. “I doubt if it would've made any difference, though, once that predator got her hooks into my husband.”
“Why didn'tâ”
Angel interrupted her. “I'm sorry. I'm not really comfortable talking about this.”
Theresa looked embarrassed. “Of course, I understand. Forgive me. I shouldn't have been so invasive.”
“It's all right. Sometimes the past is just better off staying there, you know?”
Theresa nodded.
“Now, tell me about your treatment. You mentioned something about chemo earlier.”
Theresa sighed. “For all the good it's doing. I feel so much worse afterward that I'm starting to wonder if it's even worth it.”
“If it gives you one more hour with your family, I believe it is.”
Theresa shook her head. “No matter how much time I've got, I don't think it'll be enough to right all the wrongs I've done.”
“If I haven't learned anything else in this business, I've learned that you can't live your life looking back, especially not now.”
“You must have a very forgiving nature,” Theresa assumed.
“I try to.” Then Angel thought of Duke and how much he had hurt her. “I'm not always successful, though.”
“You forgave your husband and his lover. That says a lot about the kind of person you are.”
“I never said that I forgave either of them,” clarified Angel. “So, what does
that
say about the kind of person I am?”
“It says you're human, I suppose.”
They were both quiet until Theresa looked down at her watch. “Well, my husband will be home soon. I didn't tell him you were coming today. I think if he sees you, it would freak him out too much. He doesn't like to think about me being sick. If he comes here and sees a nurse . . .”
“I understand,” said Angel, rising. “Having me here is like having a casket in your living room.”
“It's just too soon. He couldn't handle that right now.” She walked Angel to the door. “When will I see you again?”
“It's up to you. I can come as often as you want,” answered Angel.
“Let's shoot for Thursday, around noon.”
Angel agreed to the date and scribbled it into her appointment book.
“It was nice meeting you,” said Theresa as she walked Angel to the door. “I think this is going to be a life-changing experience for both of us.”
As she drove into the street, Angel looked back at Theresa McNair still standing in the doorway. Something about the woman made Angel uneasy, and she had an eerie feeling that Theresa McNair would be one of the patients who would continue to haunt her long after death.
Chapter 15
“He's not in my life anymore. Not in either of our lives.”
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Lawson Kerry
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“Hey, let me help you,” offered Mark when he spotted Lawson trying to balance her books and a stack of papers as she made her way down the hall before first period.
“Isn't it a little late for you to be trying to carry my books?” joked Lawson as she transferred the pile from her arms to his.
“Better late than never. You really shouldn't take so much work home,” he cautioned her. “The key is to give one hundred percent from seven to three, but from three to seven the next morning is your time. Otherwise, you're gonna burn out before Christmas.”
Lawson unlocked her classroom door; Mark followed her inside. “And just how often do you take your own advice, Coach Vinson?”
“Not often enough,” he admitted. “But there are a few things I never let work interfere with, like God, family, and, of course, Mariah.”
The mentioning of another female caught Lawson's attention. “Mariahâis that your girlfriend?”
He laughed and set her books down on the desk. “I don't think that's legal in most states. Mariah's my daughter. She lives in North Carolina with her mother.”
The possibility of Namon having siblings had never occurred to Lawson before. Now, Namon was suddenly someone's brother. “How old is she?”
“She just turned six. She's very smart, beautiful, charmingâbasically, the female version of me,” he boasted with a smile. “What about you? Didn't you tell me you had kids when we met?”
Lawson knew that the question was inevitable, but it still hit her like a bullet. “You mean other than the thousand or so we have here?” she asked, hoping to divert the conversation. She nodded. “I have a son.”
“Cool. I've always wanted one myself. What's his name?”
“Namon.”
“How old is he?”
She gulped. The last thing she needed was for Mark to start doing the math for Namon's birth and conception. “He's not much older than your daughter.” She cleared her throat and opened her laptop. “You know, I've been meaning to ask you about last year's graduation test scores and if you have any ideas on raising the scores in social studies. I found a great Web site that I think the kids will love. It's got all kinds of sample test questions, quizzes, games, and it's set to rap music.”
Mark sat on the edge of her desk. “You've got all year to worry about that. I want to hear more about you. We rarely get a minute to talk like this.”
Lawson laughed nervously. “Me? I'm boring, just ask the students.”
“Has teaching gotten in the way of you spending time with your son?”
Lawson sat down at her desk. “Not really. Thankfully, Namon's old enough to entertain himself most of the time. Plus, my fiancé helps out a lot.”
“Oh, there's a fiancé?” he inquired. “I should have known you were way too beautiful to still be on the market.”
Lawson was surprised to find herself blushing.
“So, when's the big day?”
“We haven't really set a date yet. Soon, though. What about you? Are there any wedding bells in your future?”
“Nope. I'm not as lucky in love as you are. I haven't found
the one
yet.”
“What about Mariah's mother?”
He shrugged. “Tasha came close. I'm kind of traditional, I guess. I think if you get a girl pregnant, you ought to man up and give the baby a name and a family with a stable home. Unfortunately, Tasha's not so traditional. She was all for getting married when I was playing football overseas and still had a shot at the NFL. Once I got injured and was cut from the team, life as a teacher's wife didn't have as much appeal. Before I knew it, she was on to the next guy with a football contract.”
“Did you love her?”
“Of course. She's the mother of my child. My daughter means more to me than anything, and Tasha is the reason I have her. Kids are a blessing.”
Guilt crushed Lawson into silence.
“Marrying Tasha seemed like the right thing at the time, but I see now that we wanted different things out of life. We're still friends, though, for our daughter's sake. Mariah's my heart. I'd do anything for her, including befriend her gold-digging mama.”
Lawson found her voice. “I can tell that you really love your little girl. She sounds like a lot for your future kids to compete with.”
Mark shook his head. “No competition required. I won't love any other seed of mine any more or any less than I love her. A child who's carrying my DNA is privy to the same love and treatment that she is.”
“Do you think you want any more kids?”
“Sure . . .” Lawson perked up. “But not right now. First, I want to settle down and get married. Tasha's cool, but I don't want any more baby mamas. I want a wife, and even that's at least three years on down the road.”
She bit her lip. “I see.”
“So, tell me about this man of yours. Does he have kids?”
“No, but he treats Namon like his own son.”
“That's good. How does Namon's dad feel about that?”
Lawson turned away, under the pretense of looking for papers. “He's not in my life anymore. Not in either of our lives.”
“That guy doesn't know what he's missing out on. I love being a dad.”
She felt a pang of guilt again. “Well, my class will be in here soon, so . . .”
“So, you're kicking me out, huh?”
Lawson smiled. “Something like that.”
Mark stood to leave. “Before I go, how are your classes? Everything okay?”
“Everything's great! I actually love my job. Can you believe it?”
“That's good to hear. I'm sure the kids love you too.” He moved a little closer to her. “You seem like the type who's easy to love.”
“You didn't always think that,” teased Lawson.
“It's not like you were interested.” He blushed in mock humility. “You didn't want me. I was just some ol' jock. You probably went for the preppy, pretty-boy type.”
“Mark, you
were
the preppy, pretty-boy type!”
He laughed. “Guilty as charged. I bet your son's one too. The next time Mariah's in town, we should get the kids together,” he suggested.
“Right. We'll have to do that.”
Over my dead body
, she thought.
“Who knows?” said Mark as he made his way out the door. “They might end up being as close as two peas in a pod, like brother and sister.”