Leigh Bale - The Healing Place

“Okay, pumpkin, you ready?” Sonja came over to the bed, then reached to help Angie sit back.

Lying on the pillow, Angie handed Mark her flowered hat. He noticed Emma’s gaze slid over the little girl’s bald head where pink scars circled the top right side. Hopefully, her thick hair would eventually grow back and no one would notice.

Emma didn’t show even a glimmer of repulsion. Instead a flicker of empathy filled her eyes.

Ah, she’s not as indifferent as she wants us to believe.

Sonja lifted Angie’s shirt, exposing the porta-catheter installed for administering the chemo injections. The neurosurgeon had warned that, if they didn’t use a porta-catheter, by the time Angie turned eighteen, the veins in her arms would collapse. If not handled carefully, the powerful medicine could burn her skin bad enough to require a plastic surgeon to repair the damage. A patch covered the EMLA Cream, which Mark had applied to Angie’s skin thirty minutes earlier. Angie shouldn’t feel any more than a bit of pressure.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Angie’s voice wobbled as she looked at Emma.

Tenderness filled Emma’s eyes. “No, sweetie, it shouldn’t.”

Setting her clipboard aside, Emma slipped her glasses off and tucked them into her pocket before carefully peeling back the Emla patch. She accepted a piece of gauze from Sonja and wiped the white cream off.

“Okay, lie still.” Emma’s voice soothed.

Mark tensed. Angie clung to his hand, her pulse hammering against her throat.

“Honey, I’m here.” He cupped Angie’s cheek and looked into her eyes. Bending at the waist, he lowered his face to lean against the pillow. She whimpered and Mark kissed her forehead, speaking calming words to her.

“All done, sweetie,” Emma said. “You can sit up now.”

Both Angie and Mark breathed with relief. As Emma drew near, he caught her scent, a combination of warm skin and some elusive floral fragrance. Inhaling deeply, he tried to forget why he was here.

“It didn’t hurt a bit. Thanks, Dr. Shields.” Angie smiled, showing one tooth missing in front.

What a difference. Now the dreaded injection was over, Angie almost seemed her old self again.

“You’re welcome.” Emma’s mouth curled as she disposed of the needle in a box labeled Hazardous Waste.

Placing a small dot bandage over the needle prick, Sonja helped Angie lower her shirt and patted the little girl’s shoulder. “You did just fine, kiddo. Do you want to come select a prize from my stash out in the office? I got it special just for your visits.”

A grin spread across Angie’s face and she nodded. Sonja took her hand as Angie slid off the bed, then they left the room. Mark picked up Angie’s hat and slapped it against his thigh. Emma put her reading glasses on, then picked up her clipboard, jotting more notes.

“Thanks, Emma. I really appreciate this. I can’t begin to tell you how much.”

“You’re welcome. Angie’s a great kid.” She showed a wistful smile.

A wisp of golden hair slipped free of the tight knot at the back of her neck and curled against her cheek. He longed to reach out and feel the texture of it.

“Yeah, she is.” He hesitated, wondering how to say what was on his mind. “Look, Emma, I sense you’re uncomfortable with me here. Is it because I was such a dope back in high school?”

Her gaze glanced off his. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sure she did. There was no need to pretend. It occurred to him that she was doing her best to hide her injured feelings. Maybe it was a defense mechanism. No, she didn’t want him here, but she had put aside her wounded pride to help Angie.

Sudden respect filled him, along with a protective impulse. He shouldn’t have reminded her that he had dumped her for Denise all those years earlier. “You’ve turned out to be an amazing woman, Emmy.”

Her eyes widened and she looked startled. “I’m a doctor, Mark. This is what I do.”

“Still, I want you to know I’m grateful.”

She laughed, a harsh sound with no humor. “Believe me, you’ll get my bill.”

He chuckled but sensed her deep sarcasm. “Thank goodness for health insurance. So far, the medical bills are nudging half-a-million dollars, the deductibles large enough to cross my eyes.”

After college, he’d worked hard and invested well, but the divorce settlement had drained a large portion of his wealth. He’d been lucky Denise wanted cash and let him buy out her half of the house. To save Angie’s life, he’d sell everything he owned and live in a pup tent in the park. Whatever it took. Money didn’t mean anything to him now. Not if he lost his daughter.

“You’ve changed since high school, Mark.” Her brows pulled together in a perplexed frown.

Was it that obvious? “Really? How so?”

“You’re so gentle with Angie. I remember you being such a jock, laughing all the time, going to parties. I never imagined you’d be such a softy with a little girl of your own.”

He remembered, too. All those parties he had attended, and Emma hadn’t been invited. He remembered the pain in her eyes when he’d told her he didn’t want to go out with her anymore. The slump of dejection in her shoulders and the hurt in her voice when she’d wished him nothing but the best.

Those days had been focused on one thing only. Get the best grades possible, excel at sports and earn a full-ride scholarship to N.Y.U. so he could get a top job making lots of money. What had it mattered that he’d dumped the school bookworm for a hot babe who happened to be the head varsity cheerleader? When he married Denise fresh out of college, he’d been the envy of every other guy at school.

None of that seemed important now. Except for Brett Anderson, he rarely saw any of his old friends. If only he hadn’t been so superficial. But no matter what Denise did or how difficult his life became, he could never regret having Angie.

“That was a long time ago, Emma. Now, I’m a father with responsibilities. When Angie was born, I started thinking about more than just the here and now. I wanted the best for my child, and that caused me to seek a greater power than my own.”

Her brows arched. “So, you got religion, huh?”

“You could say that. I’d be lost without God in my life. As I recall, you used to be quite religious yourself.”

“Things change.”

He ached for her lack of faith. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to see my life with eternal eyes, but I came to realize that God has my best interest in mind.”

A skeptical frown crinkled her brow and he changed the topic. “When we were in high school, I was just a thoughtless, stupid kid. I hope you’ll forgive me for…for everything.”

“Of course. There’s nothing to forgive.” She bit her bottom lip, staring at the brown carpet.

What had her husband’s name been?

David.

Although they had divorced, Mark couldn’t help envying the man. Emma obviously loved him. Not once in the eleven years they had been married had Mark ever heard Denise say the words, “I love you.”

Not even to Angie, and that hurt most of all.

“I know what you mean about things changing.” He didn’t smile as he spoke. “Life hasn’t worked out quite the way I’d planned it.”

She blinked, as if digesting this information. “I remember you said you wanted to marry a beautiful socialite and be the CFO of some Fortune 500 company. You wanted to make buckets full of money, go into politics and become president of the United States.”

He burst out laughing, thinking how foolish he must have sounded to Emma. Strange that he had never once confided his amitions to Denise. “Not anymore. Now, I’d settle for a quiet evening at home with Angie.”