lipstick on you,” she said, with some satisfaction. She rubbed the corner of his mouth with a thumb to wipe away the evidence and, just for a moment, let her mind wander back to the fishing trip. And the soda pop. “You know, at the lake last weekend…” She paused, wondering how much of her feelings she should admit to him. It was all so new to her, so wonderful, so unexpected.
“…you wanted to kiss me,” he completed her statement with calm assurance, “and probably not half as much as I wanted to kiss you.”
She looked into his tender eyes. “But—”
“I understand about the kids. It wouldn’t be good for Nathan to see me becoming too familiar with his mother. Not yet.”
She nodded, looking down at the gray carpeting at her feet Was she moving in the right direction forher children or was she thinking only of herself? And Adam?
“Nathan misses his father,” Adam commented, then hesitated. “Do you?”
Angela raised her eyes instantly in wide surprise at the question. “No,” she said with almost too much emphasis. “He hurt all of us and made life difficult. In a lot of different ways.” None of which she wanted to discuss now. Her life and the children’s were back in order again, mostly thanks to the absence of Dan. She’d even given up attending the weekly support group she’d belonged to for years—for spouses and family members of alcoholics. For the first time in her adult life, she didn’t qualify, and it felt wonderful.
“Actually, it’s you I miss,” she said rather boldly, and moved her hand down to his strong grasp. “I can’t take these days apart very well either, you know.”
“Maybe we won’t have to very much longer,” he offered, knowing he was saying more than he should. But she had a way of rousing thoughts of forever in him…something no one had done since his college days. Not since Patty and Brandon.
“Let’s go—” she squeezed his hand “—we have a real world to get back to, you know.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right,” he answered, pushing the door open the rest of the way and stepping out into the hallway with Angela’s hand wrapped warmly in his. He glanced down at his watch. “Sorry that I’ve caused you to be late for your luncheon,” he said, showing her the time.
“I’m not,” Angela remarked as they moved through the hallway of the library and out toward the sunshine in the parking lot. They returned to the school in a matter of minutes, and Adam opened the door of his truck to let Angela out.
“I’ll call you about dinner tomorrow.” He smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“I’ll try,” she responded before leaving him.
She would try, but it was becoming increasingly clear to her that her days with Adam felt better than the ones without him. And her nights? She sighed. She wasn’t even going to think about those.
Angela wasn’t thinking about much of anything, later in the day, except Heather’s queasy stomach and climbing temperature. The stomach flu that so many people had suffered from recently had come on quickly. The boys were still visiting at a friend’s house when Angela’s body began aching, too. She stuck the thermometer in her own mouth as she ran tepid water over a washcloth and placed it on Heather’s scorching forehead. When it had been in for only a minute or so, she pulled it out to look at the numbers: 102 degrees. Heather’s wasn’t registering that high. “Mommy, I think I’m going to throw up again,” Heather called out on her dash to the bathroom. Angela rushed to help her. It was nearly nine o’clock and someone had to pick up the boys. So she called the first someone she could think of: Adam.
Chapter Seven
“M om, the kids…” Angela said with a hoarse voice. Her throat, raw and scratchy, barely let her speak her mind.
“They’re fine, honey. The boys are with Adam, and Heather is sleeping. Her temperature is down to 99.5 now.”
“Thank the Lord. She was so
“…you wanted to kiss me,” he completed her statement with calm assurance, “and probably not half as much as I wanted to kiss you.”
She looked into his tender eyes. “But—”
“I understand about the kids. It wouldn’t be good for Nathan to see me becoming too familiar with his mother. Not yet.”
She nodded, looking down at the gray carpeting at her feet Was she moving in the right direction forher children or was she thinking only of herself? And Adam?
“Nathan misses his father,” Adam commented, then hesitated. “Do you?”
Angela raised her eyes instantly in wide surprise at the question. “No,” she said with almost too much emphasis. “He hurt all of us and made life difficult. In a lot of different ways.” None of which she wanted to discuss now. Her life and the children’s were back in order again, mostly thanks to the absence of Dan. She’d even given up attending the weekly support group she’d belonged to for years—for spouses and family members of alcoholics. For the first time in her adult life, she didn’t qualify, and it felt wonderful.
“Actually, it’s you I miss,” she said rather boldly, and moved her hand down to his strong grasp. “I can’t take these days apart very well either, you know.”
“Maybe we won’t have to very much longer,” he offered, knowing he was saying more than he should. But she had a way of rousing thoughts of forever in him…something no one had done since his college days. Not since Patty and Brandon.
“Let’s go—” she squeezed his hand “—we have a real world to get back to, you know.”
“Unfortunately, you’re right,” he answered, pushing the door open the rest of the way and stepping out into the hallway with Angela’s hand wrapped warmly in his. He glanced down at his watch. “Sorry that I’ve caused you to be late for your luncheon,” he said, showing her the time.
“I’m not,” Angela remarked as they moved through the hallway of the library and out toward the sunshine in the parking lot. They returned to the school in a matter of minutes, and Adam opened the door of his truck to let Angela out.
“I’ll call you about dinner tomorrow.” He smiled. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“I’ll try,” she responded before leaving him.
She would try, but it was becoming increasingly clear to her that her days with Adam felt better than the ones without him. And her nights? She sighed. She wasn’t even going to think about those.
Angela wasn’t thinking about much of anything, later in the day, except Heather’s queasy stomach and climbing temperature. The stomach flu that so many people had suffered from recently had come on quickly. The boys were still visiting at a friend’s house when Angela’s body began aching, too. She stuck the thermometer in her own mouth as she ran tepid water over a washcloth and placed it on Heather’s scorching forehead. When it had been in for only a minute or so, she pulled it out to look at the numbers: 102 degrees. Heather’s wasn’t registering that high. “Mommy, I think I’m going to throw up again,” Heather called out on her dash to the bathroom. Angela rushed to help her. It was nearly nine o’clock and someone had to pick up the boys. So she called the first someone she could think of: Adam.
Chapter Seven
“M om, the kids…” Angela said with a hoarse voice. Her throat, raw and scratchy, barely let her speak her mind.
“They’re fine, honey. The boys are with Adam, and Heather is sleeping. Her temperature is down to 99.5 now.”
“Thank the Lord. She was so
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