by C. M. Newman
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: THE ANGELA FAN CLUB
Angela picked Vince up the next morning, leaving behind Mitch and Charlie, still in their pajamas and finishing off the last of the pancakes. Vince carefully carried Frankie’s birthday cake and Angela toted the gifts.
Vince nimbly reached into his coat pocket and fished out his car keys. “Can I ask you something?” Angela asked once they were loaded up and on the road, Vince behind the wheel at his insistence.
“Of course.”
“I really hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but did you think Jenna was acting a little strangely last night at dinner?”
Vince arched an eyebrow. He’d thought the very same thing, but hadn’t seen what the point would be in bringing it up with Angela. She hardly knew Jenna, so it wasn’t as if he could fairly expect her to provide fresh insight. “She was, yeah.”
“Almost like she was…never mind,” Angela said, thinking better of it and shaking her head.
“Almost like she was what?”
Angela sighed anxiously and said, “Like she was trying to imply that I can’t be there for Charlie once…you know…”
“I won’t lie. That could be what she was aiming for, but then again, maybe she was just having an off day.”
“I am invading her territory, I know. Even if she wasn’t having an off day, she has a right to protect what’s hers.”
“Okay, first,” Vince said sternly but calmly, “Charlie is not a piece of property.”
“Come on, Vince, that’s not what I meant. Not at all. I just meant that she’s used to being Charlie’s mother figure, and I’m the new lady parading on in, stepping on her toes.”
“Stepping on her toes how?” Vince retorted. “Jenna is Charlie’s mother figure, yes. Mother figure. We both know he doesn’t see Jenna as his mom. He knows she’s his aunt, and to him, that means something completely different.”
“Me being around doesn’t exactly solve that problem,” Angela said with a cottony mouth.
“Why not? I mean, let’s think like a six-year-old. He sees his formerly single dad romantically involved with a woman who’s been coming over frequently for weeks now, a woman who comes straight from work, cooks or helps cook dinner, tells his dad she loves him, helps him when he’s sick…and he’s crazy about you. You’re affectionate toward him, you tuck him in, read him bedtime stories…he listens to you…”
Angela’s eyes were wide when Vince finished his spiel, and she wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know.
“I don’t mean to lock you into some sort of contract, Angela. I’m sorry if it sounds that way.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Angela said vaguely. “I promised you I’d continue to be there for him once you’re gone, and I know you said he’d look at me as a mother figure eventually, but I was using that term more loosely, I guess. And I didn’t really expect things to get this way so quickly. Not that I’m complaining, but…I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“Are you okay with him looking at you as more of a mom as time goes by? Not just a mother figure, but a mom? Because we both know that might happen.”
“Of course I’m okay with it,” Angela said without having to think. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m just saying that you have a right not to feel comfortable with this,” Vince clarified. “He’s not your biological son, and you’re right, this is moving along quickly. When we’re referring to the pace of our relationship, that’s one thing, because we’re both consenting, understanding adults. I guess we need to decide now if we’re okay with the way things are headed with him. I trust you with him, so I’m happy if this makes him happy. But what about you?”
Angela turned to look out her window, not wanting Vince to see just how terrified she was—not terrified of such a commitment, but of losing him eventually and no longer having the family that was beginning to take shape. “I want him to be happy. And I want him to grow up knowing that he’s loved. He needs all the love he can get right now. This is a hard time for him and it’s going to get harder. I…I want this, Vince. Some semblance of a family, even if it’s only complete for a short time. It’s something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember, and like I told you before, this isn’t over once you’re gone. When one member of a family is taken away, the rest of it doesn’t just…disband.” She gave up on not letting Vince see her so shaken and glanced his way. He was just slowing down at a red light and returned her contemplative stare. “I absolutely hate talking so frankly about this,” Angela declared. “I know we need to keep it in mind, but…I hate it.”
“I know. So do I.” Vince took Angela’s left hand loosely in his. “It would be nice if there was just one thing in this entire situation that was a little more cut and dried. But can I just say what a relief it is to me that Charlie and I both have you? I love you. You know that. But this isn’t just about me. I’m glad that Charlie isn’t just an option to you, that you’re happily taking all of it. You’re right, he needs all the love he can get.”
“With that settled, then, would it be terribly tacky of me to ask if we could talk about something else?” she asked.
Vince’s lips jerked into a smile. “Of course not. Want to talk about Frankie?”
“I would love that. Give me a refresher course. You said she comes alone, right?”
“Yeah. I guess they need both incomes so her parents can’t take the time off.”
“I can’t imagine going through that alone as just a little kid,” Angela said dismally.
“She’s incredibly tough. She’s been through this once before and the staff and some other patients know her, so that makes it easier.”
“Has Charlie expressed any interest in meeting her?”
“Truth be told, I don’t tell him a lot about her. I almost feel like I’m cheating on him somehow by spending time with another kid. I know that sounds ridiculous.”
“You’re going through all this treatment so you can have more time with him. Feels strange to be spending time with someone new. I get that. But you shouldn’t have to feel that way.”
“I hope you don’t think I feel the same way about you,” Vince said. “The only time I’ve spent with you and not him has pretty much been when he’s in bed, so I don’t feel like I’m cheating with you.”
“Vince, no one’s asking you to justify how you spend your time. You’re so selfless when it comes to him. You don’t even have to let those thoughts cross your mind, okay? What you do for Frankie means the world to her, I’m sure, and it’s not taking time away from Charlie. And clearly it’s good for you, too.”
—
“So you get your blood drawn every day before chemo without a problem and you can’t give yourself your insulin without cringing? Your insulin needle’s so much smaller,” Angela said when Vince pulled up a plastic chair for her between two empty patient seats. Frankie wasn’t there yet.
“It’s different giving it to yourself. Stop picking on me,” Vince said.
“But it’s so easy,” she said with a mischievous laugh. Her smile faded as she settled into her chair and gazed around her. They were surrounded by the newly diagnosed—people who looked not much different from Vince on the day he’d told his team he was dying—and even more people who had apparently spent a lot of time here already. She sighed troublesomely. Vince didn’t have a chance to ask her if she was all right before Maria walked up to them.
“You must be Angela,” she said cheerily before she started Vince’s IV.
“The one and only,” Vince returned.
“He was saying you’d be dropping by,” Maria said, stepping to the IV machine behind Vince’s chair. “I’m Maria. We’ve heard a lot about you.” She stuck out her hand for Angela to shake.
“Oh, dear. How much is a lot?”
“Little Miss Frankie gets everything she can out of poor Vince. All the G-rated stuff, anyway,” Maria said with a wink. “Be back in a minute, sweetie,” she said to Vince.
“Just how much have you said, and to whom?” Angela asked Vince quietly.
Vince shrugged helplessly. “Frankie asks a lot about you and Maria’s around for a lot of it. And word gets around. But like Maria said, nothing too personal, I promise.”
Angela shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “When does Frankie normally get here?”
“Same time as I do, usually, but we got here a little early. Why, you nervous?”
“About meeting a ten-year-old?” Angela said with an air of arrogance. “Yes.”
Vince chuckled. “She’s going to love you.”
“I hope she likes her presents and doesn’t find it weird that we got her something. Do you think you should just say it’s from you? I don’t know her.”
“Would you relax?” Vince begged. He cupped and squeezed Angela’s nearest shoulder. “Ah, there she is,” he said, pointing. He watched as Frankie spotted him and, more notably, the woman next to him.
“Oh,” Frankie gasped, stopping between Vince and Angela. She looked back and forth between them. “Are you…”
Vince nodded. “Frankie, this is Angela. Angela, Frankie.”
“Hi, Frankie,” Angela said first, half-standing with the intention of shaking Frankie’s little hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
Frankie took a moment to realize what the hand was for and finally shook it, otherwise standing in shock. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said when she finally remembered her manners.
“Trust me, the pleasure’s all mine. Vince never stops talking about you. Happy belated birthday, by the way.” Angela beamed at Frankie while the latter hopped into the empty patient chair.
“Thanks,” Frankie said with a smile.
“We brought you some presents,” Vince said, making sure the “we” was loud and clear. Angela passed the gifts to Frankie.
“You got me presents?” Frankie said, baffled.
“Well, it is—was—your birthday. Gotta have presents,” Angela said.
“Whoa, this is a long book,” she said, thumbing through a novel a bookstore employee had promised to be just right for a girl Frankie’s age.
“Think you can handle it?” Vince asked.
“I love reading. I’m the best in my class, even with how much school I miss.” As any child would, she simply set aside the first present and went for the second. “Whoa, cool, you can play a ton of games on this. Thank you. You really didn’t have to get me anything.”
“We wanted to, and you’re very welcome,” Vince said, while Angela just smiled and tangled her hands in her lap.
“We brought you a cake, too, if you’re feeling well enough to have some,” Angela said after a moment of awkward silence. “It’s up at the desk.”
“Cake at nine in the morning? Sweet!”
“Maybe it can wait a couple hours until everyone else wants some too, how’s that?” Vince suggested.
“Works for me,” Frankie replied. “So, wow, I can’t believe you’re actually here,” she said to Angela, assuming her starry-eyed countenance and rapt position.
“Yup, I’m…here,” Angela said with an uncomfortable laugh.
“Vince never said you were so pretty…”
Angela blushed profusely and turned back toward Vince, who raised his eyebrows innocently. “Guess I take it for granted,” he said. “Didn’t think it needed to be said.”
“Well, thanks,” Angela said to Frankie, taking her compliment with a gracious smile. “You’re very pretty yourself. I love your scarf. Green’s definitely your color.”
“Thanks.” Frankie pressed her lips together anxiously. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Angela said.
“What’s it like to be Vince’s girlfriend? Is he cranky all the time?”
Angela wore an expression similar to Frankie’s. “Well…it’s pretty awesome, actually” she said, shaving a few decades off her vernacular to suit her present company. “Sometimes he’s cranky, but most times he’s very sweet. I’m a lucky girl.”
Vince’s face heated as he realized where this conversation was headed. He should have known.
“Is he romantic?” Frankie asked. “Someday I’m gonna get married and my husband’s gonna buy me flowers once a week.”
Angela could just see Vince rolling his eyes behind her. “He’s very romantic,” she affirmed. “Good luck on the flowers thing, though. You’ll be more excited about him noticing you got your hair cut.”
“Did you?” Vince asked.
“No, but saying yes is very tempting,” Angela replied.
“You should’ve lied,” Frankie said impishly.
“You already giving this poor lady the third degree?” Maria asked Frankie when she came to get her started.
“We’re having a great time,” Angela insisted, relaxing a bit and sitting back.
“Good. How’s the headache, Miss Frankie?” Maria asked. “Gone yet?”
“Mostly,” Frankie said more brightly.
“Good.” Maria finished up and left the trio alone again.
“Am I bugging you?” Frankie asked Angela timidly.
“No, not at all,” Angela said. “I ask people questions all the time for work. It’s kind of fun being on the receiving end.”
“Okay, so I can ask more questions?”
Vince chuckled softly behind Angela, who nodded permissively. “Of course.”
“Did you guys go somewhere romantic for Valentine’s Day?”
“Yes, we did. We went to a very nice restaurant,” Angela answered.
“Did he get you any presents?”
“Yes, dinner at that very nice restaurant,” Angela said with a laugh. “It was pretty expensive.”
“Did you get him something?”
“I got him a hat he hasn’t worn since,” Angela said, shooting a teasing grin over to Vince.
“You should at least pretend to like it,” Frankie scolded Vince.
“I do like it. I just haven’t spent a lot of time outside since then,” Vince said, holding his hands up.
“That’s a bad excuse,” Frankie said. “If she bought you something nice you should tell her you like it even if you don’t.”
“I do like it, and I’m not just saying that,” Vince said to Angela with a touch of despair.
“I think Frankie’s right. Wouldn’t kill you to try a little harder,” Angela teased him.
“If you didn’t get her an actual present she could open, the least you could do is wear the hat,” Frankie went on.
Vince rolled his eyes heavily in exasperation. “You guys are relentless.”
The girls shared triumphant laughs. Luckily for Vince, though, Frankie picked on him endlessly but didn’t ask any questions about marriage or other major decisions.
“Vince said you catch bad guys at work,” Frankie said after sharing quite a bit of details about her friends and school. Angela had encouraged her, seeming to enjoy something to talk about that wasn’t related to cancer or crime.
“Yup,” Angela said.
“How do you catch them? Do you have to run after them?”
“Yeah, sometimes we do,” Angela said.
“Do you beat ‘em up?”
“I don’t, not really,” Angela said. “Sometimes the guys do when they have to, though.”
“Have you ever beat anyone up?” Frankie asked Vince, leaning forward to get a better view of him.
“Only when they’ve really deserved it,” Vince answered. “How about we don’t talk about bad guys and we talk about how big of a piece of cake you want?”
“It’s only ten o’clock,” Frankie pointed out.
“You saying you don’t want cake?” Vince asked.
“Pff, no.”
—
“You okay?” Vince once they were almost back to his apartment.
Angela sighed and gripped the steering wheel as she looked both ways at a stop sign. Her glance in Vince’s direction was considerably shorter. “Yeah,
I’m fine.”
“No secrets,” Vince said with the utmost tenderness, sliding a hand behind Angela and massaging the nape of her neck.
Angela melted a bit against Vince’s effective touch. “I know Frankie’s tough, that’s obvious, but…I don’t know what’s harder, to be honest—seeing you go through it, or her. She’s just a little kid. I know I see a lot of awful things, unspeakable things, but somehow this is right up there with them. I know how much the disease and the chemo affect you, but you’re a grown man. She’s ten. Nobody in that room deserves to go through that, but especially not a little girl who’s supposed to have her whole life ahead of her. I mean, even if she goes into remission again and she ends up never having to go back there, she’s spent far too much of her childhood being sick and in pain and poked with needles. And it doesn’t matter how friendly the nurses are and how many chemo buddies she has. That doesn’t make it okay.”
“I know.”
“Sorry, I guess I just wasn’t as prepared as I thought I was. She was a joy to talk to, though.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be affected.”
Angela jerked her shoulders and shook her head violently. “I need to be stronger. If I’m going to get through this in one piece then I need to get used to it. I need to suck it up.”
“Please don’t be so hard on yourself,” Vince pleaded in a careful, deep voice. “Hope the rest of your day goes by quickly. Don’t stay at the office too late, okay?”
—
“Sorry, I’m a bad uncle,” Mitch said immediately from the couch upon Vince entering the apartment.
“What’s going on? Is Charlie okay?” Vince asked hastily.
“He’s fine. Just crashed on the couch from too much sugar. I put him in his bed.”
Vince’s lips slanted at a shallow angle. “He doesn’t usually nap, but you being here is a special occasion so I’ll let it slide. You get to sit up with him all night if he won’t sleep, though. How’d things go today otherwise?”
“Good. Went and saw a movie, went out for pizza, let him drink too much pop, then took him out for ice cream.”
“Sounds like he had fun. Thank you. He needs that. I wish I had the energy to keep up with him every day. Thank you for everything, really,” Vince continued. “For being here with me and Charlie. For being so adamant that I go after Angela, even. It sounds pathetic, but without the pushing, I might not have done it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mitch said, waving his brother off. “Wanna chill and watch a movie or do you think you need to go lie down?”
“I’ll try and stay up. You won’t be offended if I pass out for a while, will you?”
“’Course not.” Mitch found an old Western on cable and Vince was out cold, still sitting up, within ten minutes. Bored and with nothing better to do, Mitch sat back in the recliner and dozed off himself.
“Daddy.” Poke. “Daddy…” Poke.
Vince rose slowly from his slumber and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Had he really slept long enough for his eyes to crust over? The clock on the cable box read five-thirty. “Hey,” he said with a short cough, “what’s up, buddy?”
“How come you and Uncle Mitch are sleeping?”
“Because we were tired. Did you have a good nap?”
Charlie nodded. “I know what I want for my half-birthday.”
“Do you, now? And what’s that?” Vince asked. He got up and led Charlie back to the latter’s bedroom, gathering up dirty laundry while they talked.
“I wanna new bike, a bigger one.”
“Oh yeah? That sounds like a good idea. We’ll just have to wait and see…”
“Can Angela and Auntie Jen and Uncle Mitch and all my friends come to my party?”
“We’ll have to pick a date way ahead of time and let Uncle Mitch know so he can get the time off work, but I’m sure he wouldn’t miss it for the world. And Auntie Jen will be there for sure, and so will Angela as long as she doesn’t have to go out of town on a case. And you can invite your whole class if you’d like. What do you think you’d like to do for your party?” Vince asked, hoping he wouldn’t regret it.
“I dunno.”
“Well, think about it and we’ll start planning, okay?”
Charlie gave his dad a toothy smile. “Okay. Can I have a party on my real birthday, too?”
“You bet.”
“If you’re not in heaven yet, will you be able to come even if you’re really sick?”
Vince’s eyebrows rose in contemplation as he sat down on the edge of Charlie’s bed. He’d known this conversation would have to take place sooner or later, but he’d been selfishly hoping for later. “Come sit by me,” he said, patting the space beside him. Charlie hopped up and looked up blankly at his dad. “Charlie, remember how I told you it would be a while before I went to heaven?” Charlie nodded. “Well, I’m…” Vince’s eyes fogged over but he kept away the tears for now. “I’m sorry, Charlie, but the doctors think I’ll probably be gone before your birthday. So we’ll make sure your half-birthday party is extra special, okay?” He thumbed Charlie’s hair away from his temple and kissed him there. A couple of tears escaped against his will.
“Don’t cry, Daddy,” Charlie said, wrapping his arms around his father’s waist. “I’ll still pray for you.”
Vince choked on air and held his son fast to him, burying his face in his hair. “I know, Charlie, and I appreciate that so much. But…maybe we should talk about what to pray for.”
Charlie slumped against his father’s side. “What do you mean?”
“I…pray every day that I don’t have to leave you, but there are some things that are going to happen—no matter how much you ask for them not to. Do you understand?”
“But God listens to me, right?”
“He hears you, but He doesn’t answer everyone’s prayers the way they want. If He did, the world would be pretty crazy. He knows that you don’t want me to die, though. It still doesn’t hurt to tell Him how you’re feeling—that’s a good thing—but I just want you to be prepared for the possibility—the very real possibility—that this is God’s plan for me. But I don’t want you to stop praying. Ever. Maybe instead of praying that I won’t have to go to heaven, though, you should pray that…you and I can have a lot of fun together before I do go. And that I won’t have to be too sick from my medication, and that you can still be happy after I’m gone.”
“Okay. Do you think you’ll see Mommy in heaven?”
Vince’s sopping cheeks trembled behind a smile. “I’m sure I will.”
“Hey Daddy?”
Vince sighed. “Yeah, buddy?”
“How did you and Mommy meet?”
“Can we lie down?” Vince asked, scooting into the middle of Charlie’s bed. He suddenly felt exhausted all over again.
When Charlie nodded, Vince lay back, bending his knees up so his feet didn’t hang over the foot of the bed. Charlie snuggled up close to him. “Mommy and I met at college. We had a class together, and she was easily the smartest girl in the room, and so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I asked her to go out with me, and she actually said no at first.”
“How come?”
Vince smiled at the memory. “She said I should go pay for a tutor instead of trying to date one. It took me a while, but I convinced her I really did like her, and we dated for a while, then eventually got married. And many, many years later, thanks to my crazy job not letting me settle down, we finally decided to have you.”
“Do you still love her even though she’s in heaven?”
“I do.”
“And you love Angela, too?”
Vince nodded slowly. “I do. But when somebody passes away, your love for them changes to a different kind of love. You’re sad, and you miss them, but after a while, you’re glad that if they can’t be here with you, at least they’re in heaven, and there’s nothing bad in heaven. Does that make sense?”
“I think so. How come you and Mommy got a divorce if you sti
ll loved each other?”
Vince had skirted around this topic enough times in the past. These discussions mattered now more than ever. “Mommy and I…we still cared about each other, but not like we should have. We still even loved each other, like I said, but we weren’t in love anymore.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Well, you love your uncle, right?”
Charlie nodded.
“You love him like family,” Vince explained. “But you’re not in love with him like a husband should be with a wife. It’s familial love versus romantic love.”
“What made you be not in love with Mommy the romantic way anymore?”
Vince was starting to regret his decision to be more forthright about the divorce now. At least he knew his boundaries—Charlie could never even have an inkling of his mother’s infidelity. “A lot of it was due to me being away for work so much and being busy even when I was in town. That made your mom understandably upset with me, and I got upset that she was upset, and that made things very tense between us. We still cared, though, Charlie. We still loved each other, wanted good things for each other. We just…weren’t meant to be husband and wife. Not anymore. It wasn’t working.”
“Is that gonna happen to you and Angela? Are you gonna not be in love anymore someday?” Charlie wondered.
“Absolutely not. Work isn’t a problem anymore. I didn’t learn that lesson and a few other lessons soon enough to fix things with your mom, but I learned in time to protect my relationship with Angela and my relationship with you.”
“So are you gonna get married?”
Vince sighed. “I don’t know, buddy. That’s not something I’ve ever taken lightly. But I will promise you that I will never fall out of love with her, okay?”
“Okay,” Charlie settled. “How do you know you love her now?”
“Well…” Vince’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “I want to be around her, spend time with her…we make each other smile…and I want to make her feel better when she’s sad, and I know that when I’m sad, she’ll be there to make me feel better. That’s what it’s like to be in love with someone when they’re alive. A little bit of it, anyway. A lot of it’s actually pretty hard to explain.”
“How did you meet Angela?”
It was one of those moments where Vince wondered just how many questions a child could ask in one sitting. “You remember, we met at work.”
“Yeah but how did you fall in love with her like you fell in love with Mommy?”
“Well, uh…Angela and I…we care about each other very much. When one of us is sad, the other one is sad too and wants to help. And there have been times long before I knew I had cancer, times that I was sick or hurt or worried in other ways, when Angela was there for me. Kind of like…when you have a bad day at school and Auntie Jen and I want to hear about it. Or when you’re sick and we do everything we can to make you feel better. Angela’s been there for me a lot that way. I can always count on her and she can always count on me. And she can make me laugh more than anyone except you, I think. I love having her around. And she cares a lot about you, too, which makes me very happy.”
“She makes me feel better when I’m sad, too, and she takes care of me.”
“Yes, she does.”
“And she makes me laugh.”
“Yup,” Vince said, not sure where this was going.
“Then that means that I love her, too. Should I say it like you do?”
Vince reached over and patted Charlie’s stomach, a smile on his face. He had to remind himself that that four-letter word didn’t scare a small child as much as it did an adult, and that for Angela to admit that she loved Charlie probably wouldn’t be as difficult to work up to if Charlie said it first.
But then the memory crossed Vince’s mind of how scared Angela had seemed that morning when they had been discussing her place in Charlie’s life. She was for all of it in theory, but the pace seemed to be jarring for her. This meant that she would either be happy to hear Charlie say that he loved her, or scared out of her wits. Had she not insisted, though, that Charlie needed all the love he could get?
“Daddy? Should I say it?”
Vince brought himself back to the present again. Even if he wanted to tell Charlie no, how could he? Telling a child not to love somebody seemed cruel. “You know what? If you love someone, you should always tell them. I know I always love to hear that.”
“Okay, I’ll tell her,” Charlie decided.
“And, you know, she was kind of sad today. I bet that’ll cheer her up.”
“Why was she sad?”
“Just…boring grown-up stuff.”
“Is she coming over tonight?”
“As far as I know. Uncle Mitch and I were gonna make her something she likes for dinner in case she does come over. Wanna help?”
—
“Can I read a story to you tonight?” Charlie asked that night when Angela walked into his room with him, being led by the hand. She had just arrived from work and had in fact debated just going straight to her apartment, but Vince had insisted over the phone that she would want to come over.
“I’d love that. Which one?” Angela asked. Charlie pulled out a book with two rabbits on the front, hiding the title with his hand, and crawled into bed with it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever read this one,” Angela said. “What’s it about?”
“Just let me read it and then you’ll know,” Charlie said simply, his harmless curtness getting a soft giggle out of Angela. “Okay, ready?”
“Ready,” she said, reclining and laying an arm around Charlie while he opened up his book.
She didn’t really pick up why this particular book was so important for Charlie to read tonight until he was finished, cleared his throat, and pointed again at the title that he now let her see. “Guess how much I love you,” he said, looking impatiently up at Angela.
She smiled. “Is that why you wanted to read this particular story tonight?”
He nodded. “You have to guess how much I love you, though!”
“Oh, I don’t know…as much as you love ice cream?”
“A little more,” Charlie said with a giggle. “Daddy said you were sad today. Do you feel better now?”
Angela’s body was overcome with a tingling warmth. “I do. And you know what?”
“What?” Charlie asked with a exultant smile.
“I love you, too. Very much.” She tickled him and attacked him with kisses. “More than coffee.”
Charlie giggled. “Do you have to go now?”
“Well, I’m gonna go visit with your daddy and your uncle for a while, then I’ll be heading home. Sweet dreams, Charlie.”
“Goodnight.”
“Your dinner’s warmed up,” Vince said when Angela surfaced from Charlie’s room.
“Good, I’m starving. Thanks so much for making it. Ooh, my favorite, double thanks.” Angela pulled the pan out of the oven and dished herself up some chicken and rice casserole. She licked her thumb and said, “You get those scan results Monday, right?”
“Yeah,” Vince said.
“Plans for the weekend?”
“Just chemo tomorrow and church on Sunday. Think you’ll come?” Vince asked Angela.
“I plan on it,” she said, leaving it at that.
“Good. How was work?” he asked Angela.
“Fine…Harry’s had to start interviewing for your replacement, but don’t worry, his standards are impossibly high and no one is getting your office any time soon unless it’s one of us. He stored a bunch of stuff in it, and every time the facilities manager asks him to clear it out, he ignores him. Anyway, other than that, I think the team’s finally off my case, no pun intended. Either they finally took a hint or Fitz said something to them.”
“I doubt he’d say anything without you asking him to,” Vince said. “So I guess they took a hint.” He watched Angela put the leftovers back in the fridge and blocked her way out of the kit
chen. “Love you,” he said softly, stealing a kiss.
She smiled and searched his eyes for some hidden meaning. There appeared to be none. “I love you, too. And I can’t tell you how nice that is to hear.”
“Are you all right? You’re almost a little misty-eyed.”
She smiled. “I’m perfectly fine.”
For the time being, she meant every word.
