“Yes, even if it was the last thing they ever asked for, God wouldn’t say ‘no.’” She walked back over to Heather’s bed, leaned down and gave the girl another kiss—cold germs and all—on the forehead. “Don’t worry about Dad. He wouldn’t want you to do that. Now, try to get some sleep.”
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“Maybe God wasn’t just taking care of me tonight Maybe He sent Adam for you, too.”
“No,” she responded somewhere between a soft laugh and a cough. “God sent Adam Dalton for you. Mommy isn’t asking for a man in her life.”
“But you’ve been alone a long time. Wouldn’t you like to have somebody?”
“I’m fine here with you and your brothers. I do not need any more than that,” she stated emphatically. “Good night, Heather.”
Angela closed the door and leaned against it momentarily. “Oh, Lord, please don’t send me another man,” she whispered, half in humor and half in desperation. What would she do if someone like Adam Dalton entered her life now, threatening her newly found independence? She winced at the thought.
She had, only months earlier, received one of the surprises of a lifetime. Freedom. After nearly twelve years of a troubled marriage, her husband had finally chosen his alcoholic’s life-style over a future with her, and he had found someone named Sylvia to share it with him. So Angela was free. Suddenly and unexpectedly.
And she had been the one with the unpleasant task of explaining it all to the children: Nathan, 12, David, 10 and Heather, 6. Little did she know that her discussion with them concerning the divorce would be easy compared to the news she would have to deliver several weeks later. News that their father was gone—forever. A car accident had claimed the lives of both Dan Sanders and his girlfriend, Sylvia.
Angela thought briefly of how she had openly wept at Dan’s funeral. Several people had commented in surprise that after all that had happened she still loved Dan enough to cry for him. But she didn’t. She just loved her kids, and they had lost their dad. And those three sad faces broke Angela’s heart—more completely than all those difficult years with Dan had ever done.
She walked into the small kitchen area and opened the cabinet over the sink in search of cold medicine. She wanted to be able to work tomorrow—Friday. There was so much to do in her new job as principal, and she needed to be there—sick or not. She swallowed the medication and drank a large glass of water to get rid of the taste. Then she headed for her own bedroom.
Tomorrow would be a better day, she hoped. And, whatever happened, at least she wouldn’t have to answer to an angry Adam Dalton about it.
“So you came to the Open House. Heather said you might,” a vaguely familiar voice commented. Angela stood up from adjusting her shoe to come face-to-face with Adam Dalton for the second time in one week. Only, this time he looked much friendlier—more like the man she remembered from the pool.
“Hello, Mr. Dalton,” she responded. “My kids wanted me to attend this function tonight. They enjoy the recreation center very much. And they have friends here they wanted to see.” She had been aware of the inevitability of running into him here, but she hadn’t thought he would look quite this appealing. Dark brown slacks, cream-colored shirt and a tie swirled with coordinating colors—all suited him well. As did the smile he offered, in place of the glare she remembered.
“Please, call me ‘Adam,’” he said quietly. “I’m glad you’re here. I owe you an apology.”
“No, you don’t You helped Heather out of what could have been a serious situation, and I appreciate that. I’m sorry if I was rude when you brought her home.”
“No, really, you weren’t. I was. I would never have made such a harsh remark about you and your husband…if I had realized the situation. I apologize for my comment.” He had regretted his thoughtless statement from the moment that he had learned of Angela’s recent loss.
Angela knew that he felt badly about his sharp words. She could see it in his eyes. “Apology accepted,” she said. “No harm done.”
“Good,” he replied, as a seriousness darkened his expression. “I didn’t know then that Heather’s father had died.”
“Yes, well, I suppose it’s unlikely you would have known. Heather doesn’t talk much about her dad.”
Adam nodded, and they stood in awkward silence for a moment. “I’m sure it’s been difficult”
“It’s been very hard on the kids. They were still trying to adjust to the idea of a divorce when Dan was killed, so it’s not been easy.”
“I didn’t realize you were divorced.”
“We were in the process…which gives me a rather unusual status. I’m not quite divorced, but I’m not really a widow, either. I haven’t figured it all out yet.”
One corner of Adam’s mouth curved upward in a brief acknowledging smile. “I’ve been in situations I haven’t been able to figure out, too. It’s not a comfortable place to be.”
“No, it’s not,” she agreed with a small smile. “So, maybe we should change the subject. Can you tell me about swimming lessons? How is Heather doing?”
“Well, she’s doing fine—basically—but I’m concerned about her not moving up to the next class.”
“She’s been stuck at this level too long, hasn’t she?”
Adam shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with children repeating lessons. That’s necessary sometimes. But Heather really needs only one thing more before she can move on.”
Angela nodded. “The dive.”
“Exactly,” Adam agreed. “She needs to go off the board into twelve feet of water. There will be an instructor in the pool waiting for her, but she just doesn’t want to do it.”
“That’s odd. She hasn’t said anything about it this time. During the summer session she was very anxious about that part. Then she decided she wasn’t ready to dive and just didn’t do it. I told her that was fine…to wait until she felt ready,” Angela explained and glanced around the reception area until she glimpsed her daughter.
“And it’s basically the same situation this fall,” said Adam. “I know she can do this. I think even she knows she can, too…but she won’t. And she’ll only get another certificate of participation instead of the certificate of completion she needs to go on. If she repeats this level again, she’ll be the oldest kid in the group, and I’m worried about what that will do to her self-esteem, Mrs. Sanders—”
“My name is Angela,” she corrected. “And I’ll speak to Heather about it again and encourage her, but I won’t tell her she has to dive. The whole learning-to-swim issue has been difficult enough.”
“She didn’t want to learn?” Adam asked.
“Not really. We finally talked her into it, but she was very ‘iffy’ about the idea.”
“Are you afraid of water, Angela?”
“No, I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of it, but I’m not a swimmer either, so I have a healthy respect for it.”
Adam smiled and looked over at some children playing by the front door. “So that’s where Heather’s fear comes from.” Then his gaze returned to Angela’s face. This woman didn’t look as if she’d be afraid of anything. No, she seemed determined, set in