Like Slow Sweet Molasses (25 page)

“I’m
sorry, Angel. I have to leave.” His voice startled her causing a chain reaction
of the loving kind.

Angela’s
eyes zeroed in on his transmitting spears of desire through the bathroom
mirror. She yearned for his embrace as reassurance of their mushrooming
romance. Her body tingled as he started in her direction. The heat generated as
the distance melted flushed her inside and out. His hand at her waist sizzled
the skin clean through her nightshirt as he turned her to face him.

Chance
gathered Angela in his rock solid arms and sampled her sugary kisses. He
savored them like he couldn’t get enough. “That’ll have to hold me until I get
back.”

“I’ll
take you to the airport,” she mumbled, excitement building for his lips still
pressed on hers.

He
kissed her lovingly.

“No.
I’ll take you to the hospital. Say my good-byes to your parents. From there
I’ll take a taxi to the airport.”

“Where
is she, Chance?”

“Right
now she’s between Amarillo and Wichita Falls.” He felt like dismantling
something as he grated, “On a bus.” Angela, reading the signs, rushed passed
him and returned from the bedroom with a throw pillow she handed to him.
Without a second thought, Chance popped the seam as easily as if he opened a
bag of chips, tossing the innards helter-skelter.

“You’re
meeting her?”

“Yes.
In Wichita Falls. The police department there has been alerted and will be on
the lookout for her at the bus depot. They are to detain her until I arrive.”

“Detain
her?” she exclaimed in horror.

“She’s
a sixteen year-old who needs to learn the consequences of her actions.” He was
livid by this point.

“Chance,
she’s a child. To have her detained like a common criminal is cruel and
inhumane punishment.” He cocked her a sneer. “You can’t be serious,” she
pleaded humbly.

“Angela,
of course not. I…am…angry, mind you, but not the sadistic ass I appear to be at
this moment.” He tapped under her chin as had become his habit instigating his
cool down.

Her
body relaxed. “Are you all set? Your reservations are made?”

“I
have a four and a half hour flight from here to Amarillo with an open-end
flight back home.”

“Then
you’re all set,” she soothed with his face cupped in her hands. “We’d better
put a rush on things.” Next, she pulled his face down to hers to give him a
comforting kiss, parted from him, shed her shirt and stepped into the shower.

Chance
imitating Angela, stripped and followed her into the hot, steamy mist.

Angela
broke into a wide grin at the sight of Lee sitting in a chair one day after
regaining consciousness. “You’re up!” she exclaimed.

“I
am, but, you shouldn’t be. Where is he? Did you run him off?”

Chance
entered carrying a morning paper under one arm and a gigantic cup of designer
coffee for Connie in time to see Angela flash a “be quiet” signal to Lee by
forcefully snapping together the tips of her index fingers and thumbs.
 
His roar drew all eyes to him. “I’m here,
Lee.”

“You’re
early,” he sounded cross. To Angela he chastised, “Don’t you crab-claw me!”

“Easy,
Daddy.” She tipped over to rub the top of his head while planting a kiss to the
spot. “Morning, Mama.” Angela pecked her mother’s cheek.

Connie
reclined on the divan under a blanket and smiled along with her cheery
greeting. “Morning, Cookie. Brock.”

“Good
morning, Connie.” His tone was cautious and chipper which is the reason he
experienced a pang of guilt. Here he was in the company of his new love and her
family when his family needed him elsewhere.

Angela
witnessed the conflicting emotions shading his features and strolled over to
unburden him. She relieved him of his packages prior to taking his hands in
hers. “You need to get going.”

“You’re
right. I just hate leaving you.”

“You’re
not leaving me, Chance,” she corrected with genuine concern that left no
question of her sincerity. “You’re rescuing Kelsy.”

A
provocative silence reminded him of their whereabouts coercing an explanation.
“Folks, I have a teenage Angelaesque of my own who’s in the middle of a
rebellious mutiny that only a father can squash. That’s why I’m rushing off.”

Lee
and Connie gazed in unabashed interest giving sly looks as Chance broke
Angela’s hold to crush her to his chest. A longing sigh escaped the deepest
caverns of his heart warning them of his feelings.

“Another
good sign about you,” Lee complimented Chance. “Go do what only a father can
do;scold her, kiss her boo-boo, make whatever “it” is alright. We’ll look out
for this one.”

“Daddy,
you’ve got that backwards. I’ll look out for you,” Angela said while wrapping
Chance’s waist even tighter. “Be careful, okay?”

“I
will, Angel. You take care of you. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

The
look she saw on his face heightened her guilt although no one in the room knew
she was concocting a plan. “What does that mean?” she asked defensively.

“What
are you up to, Angela?” Her reaction enticed red flags to flap.

“Time
is precious, Lieutenant.”

“Don’t
use trick mirrors on me, Angel.” He plopped a juicy kiss on her mouth.
“Subterfuge is what I combat for a living.”

“That’s
odd,” she countered. “I thought your field was forensics.”

“As
an officer of the law, I dabble where I’m needed.”

She
pushed off. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not being honest with me about
what you do?”

Old
suspicions pawed their way into their midst. The touchy-feely session was over
for both heard the fabric of their relationship rip. Whether irreparable or not,
now was not the time to discover the truth. It was Connie who attempted to take
away the sting.

“Listen
at you two. You’re both so deeply buried under a blanket of worry right now
that you’re letting it control your emotions. Your relationship is young and
needs nurturing. If it can’t withstand a little adversity at the start it’s
doomed to suffer a quick demise.” Connie sat on the edge of the couch real
close to her husband. “Maybe that’s best.” Her words were pellets stinging
their flesh as she reminisced of her own failed mixed relationship. “Or…if what
you feel is love then it’s worth the fight.”

Chance
snatched Angela to the other side of the curtain out of the older couple’s view
to ravage her lips. “I love you, Angela. Please, don’t shut me out.”

Angela
fought her conscience into submission. “We’ll discuss this at a more
appropriate time, Chance. I love you, too and have confidence in my feelings
for you.”

His
hand cupped the back of her head for one last succulent kiss before he
disappeared out of the door and out of her sight. Knowing what was in store
when she dared to part the curtain, Angela dotted her lips, smoothed her
clothing and stepped out like someone on ice skates for the first time.
Feigning ignorance to the reasons for their stares permitted her to set about
tidying up which was really busy work to occupy her mind. Finally, tired of the
oppressive silence she cut to the chase.

“Mama,
I’ll stay with Daddy while you go home to rest.”

“It’s
written all over your face, Cookie—that ebullient look love leaves behind,”
Connie said. “This Brock Alexander must be some kind of man to break down the
barriers erected around your heart.”

“The
amazing thing—he weakened my resolve on our very first meeting. He angered and
impressed me all in one encounter.” Her parents grinned. “What?”

“Can
you weed out past hurts and not prejudge or resort to stereotyping?” her father
asked.

“Chance
knows my not-so-stellar history in the love department. I’ve been brutally
honest with him about the interactions surrounding those feelings.” She fluffed
the pillow on the hospital bed. “It’s a gamble I’m willing to take. After all,
I’m not getting any younger.”

Lee
and Connie fell out in a fit of laughter. Lee beckoned suddenly for the pillow
on his bed, clutching it to his chest to buffer the pain once Angela brought it
to him. His jovial attitude dwindled as his eyes took on that droopy, medicated
look. He was on his way to a nap when the rattletrap noise of a rolling cart
destroyed the peace.

“Dr.
Munso, it’s time for your vitals and a little walk down the hall.” The young
nurse looked boldly at Angela and Connie, but, sort of skulked around looking
Lee in his eyes.

Lee,
to his family’s surprise, made himself available without a grumble. Mother and
daughter monitored the exchange in anticipation of an all out rescue of the
modern-day Florence Nightingale. The nurse skillfully went about her duties
while an assistant waited in the wings. It wasn’t long before the nurse’s
assistant whisked Lee towards the door and out into the hallway.

“Don’t
either of you leave,” he ordered with a hand clamped to the rolling pole.

“We’re
coming, too,” Angela said hurrying behind.

“No,
Cookie, Sweetie. Daddy’s got to do this on his own.” He could see the gears
turning in Angela’s head.

“The
plot thickens.”

“I
want to talk to you, Cookie.” The door slipped to a close under Angela’s
observation.

“I
can tell I’m not going to like this.”

“Your
father and I think you should take your trip,” her mother began dubiously. “No
need letting that money go to waste.”

“You’ve
got to be kidding, right, Mama?”

“Do
I look like I’m kidding? You need a break from reality.”

Angela
rolled her eyes and grumbled. “No way am I leaving here with things the way
they are.”

“Your
daddy’s out of the woods.”

“And
I intend to see that he stays that way.” She negated any further argument by
crossing her arms across her chest resembling a petulant child. Her mouth
became a grim line as Connie glided towards her. They stood nose to nose.

“St.
Thomas’ warm sandy beaches are the solution to the problem you refuse to admit.
You need time for yourself. The swiftest way to the Looney bin is to deny
yourself the privilege of healing.”

Angela
snagged her mother’s hands to emphasize her point. “I have healed. Helping
others helped me to heal.”

“If
that is the case, Angela…” she paused.

Angela
braced for her mother’s big and convincing finish.

Connie
proceeded, “Why did Dom’s visit unnerve you?”

“Because
he is a boil on my bottom, Mama, and shouldn’t have shown his face here. That’s
why.” Angela struggled to hide her rising temper at the mention of her
unfaithful ex’s name.

Connie
concluded driving her point straight into Angela’s entombed heart. “Brock
admitted to me earlier that he has feelings for you. Then, later to your father
that he loves you.” She led Angela to the sofa where they sat. Each mulled over
the importance of their conversation. “Love is delicate, Cookie. If you don’t
nurture it tenderly—it’s preordained to wither on the vine.”

Bashfully,
Angela admitted, “I really do think I love him, Mama.”

“That’s
precisely why you need time to put your feelings into perspective. Without any
undue pressure to respond in a manner that counters your best interest.”

“My
best interest,” she repeated absently. “I actually thought I could get a
partial, if not a full refund on my trip and use it to help defray some of the
medical costs.”

“We
have everything covered. Don’t you worry about us. It’s a parent’s
responsibility to look out for their child.”

“You’re
all I have. I can’t help but worry.” Angela relished the feel of her mother’s
loving strokes up and down her arm.

“That’s
the primary reason for letting go of past hurts,” Connie encouraged. “Your
father and I won’t always be around. You need to love again, Cookie. Only…let
your heart dictate the pace. And it can’t do that if you’re mired in muck.”