if Claire’s blood glucose levels continue to improve, but only if you agree to assist with diabetic instruction.”
“What? Marta! Me? I’m not even sure I’ll be in tomorrow.” Anne pushed back her bangs. “We’ve got some caregiver issues here with my aunt again.”
“Well...” Marta hesitated. “They could go to your house.”
“That’s crazy. They can’t come here.”
“Company?” Her aunt chirped from behind her. “I’d love to have company. The rose garden is so beautiful this time of year. We could have a picnic. Tell them yes, Anne.”
“Aunt Lily, isn’t it time for your game show?” Anne inched farther into the dining room.
“So it’s a little unconventional,” Marta continued. “But this is Paradise. We don’t do things the same way they do in the big city. You said so yourself, remember?”
“Of course, I did. I’m always saying things that will come back to haunt me.” Anne was silent, her gaze following her aunt, who had settled into a favorite recliner.
“This isn’t about Matthew Clark, is it?” Marta said quietly. “Because if it is, I think you should put your feelings for him aside.”
Feelings? Did she have feelings for the man? She’d barely touched the surface of sorting through her emotions after running into Matt. The entire day had been simply exhausting; that was the only feeling she was sure of.
“Are you still there?”
“I’m here, Marta.”
“What happened between you two is in the past, isn’t it?”
Anne sighed. The past. A wonderful place where she’d like to hide right now.
Instead she turned away from the living room and whispered into the phone. “Absolutely, and I couldn’t agree more. I was very young and, yes, that was a long time ago.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
Anne became silent. Should it be a problem? No. She could be a professional and handle the situation. But would her aunt remember Matt after all these years? And if she did, would she say something inappropriate, embarrassing or humiliating for both Anne and Matt?
That scenario seemed highly unlikely with Lily’s current state of mental health. In all probability she wouldn’t remember Matt at all. Still, everything inside Anne screamed that this was a bad idea. At very least it would be awkward. Anne couldn’t help but be nervous about the possibilities for disaster.
“Are you there?” Marta asked.
“Yes.” She paused again. “I’m thinking.”
“Think about this. Claire Griffin is a motherless little girl with an emotional hole in her heart. She’s reaching out to you.”
“Oh, that’s not fair,” Anne murmured through the lump in her throat.
“Perhaps. But it’s the absolute truth.”
“Marta, I just don’t...” She took a deep breath. “The situation is all kinds of impossible.”
“Forgive me if I’m out of line here, Anne, but if Claire’s father can humble himself to ask you for help, then I think you should consider doing the same.”
“I hate it when you’re right.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Anne sighed loudly. “Okay. Fine. Take me off the schedule for tomorrow and give Matt Clark a call.”
“Thank you.”
“I should pray that I don’t regret this,” Anne muttered into the receiver. “But I already do.”
* * *
“Claire, we leave in ten minutes,” Matt called upstairs.
As usual, there wasn’t a single sound in response to his announcement. The two of them lived in the little cottage, yet all he ever heard was the echo of his own voice and Stanley’s occasional barking.
Matt glanced at the clock. After Claire’s discharge, he had agreed to let her come home to shower and change clothes before they headed to Anne’s. That might have been a tactical error since he knew very little about how long it took young girls to shower and dress.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket and typed a few more items onto his already-lengthy virtual grocery list. When he pulled open the door of the fridge and rested against the appliance, he could only shake his head. A lonely foil-covered casserole greeted him.
The nurse educator had laid out Claire’s nutritional needs. Apparently the haphazard meal plans he’d been providing up to now weren’t exactly going to win him any awards for father of the year. It’s wasn’t as though he’d had a childhood of healthy eating habits to draw upon.
Nope. His only parent was an alcoholic and they usually didn’t worry much about the food pyramid. So here he was learning how to read nutrition labels and practice smart meal choices not only for his daughter but to set a good example, for himself.
Thankfully some of the women in town had felt sorry for him and brought by lasagna and a fresh tossed salad last night. The meal was the first home-cooked fare since his last invitation to Delia and Manny’s house. And the good news was that there were leftovers.
He hobbled across the room, careful not to bear weight on his injured ankle, and nearly stumbled into the table in the process. Disgusted with himself, he sank into the chair. It hurt, but he couldn’t rely on pain pills if he was going to drive.
Hopefully he’d be able to get things back on track by the end of the day. How things had gotten so off course in a mere twenty-four hours he wasn’t sure. God had led him to Paradise but at some point Matt had stopped listening.
There was no doubt his pride was his undoing. He had to admit that since the moment he’d landed the job in Paradise, he had hoped to run into Anne so he’d be able to show her and her aunt what a success he’d made of his life. In the scenario that ran through his mind, she’d walk away from their meeting bemoaning the fact that she’d left him.
Things hadn’t turned out the way he’d expected. Not by a long shot. Yes, he’d been prideful and disaster had ensued. Now he found himself humbled and reaching out to Anne, of all people, for help.
Why was it that it took him so long to realize that every single time he took a step out without God’s direction he fell flat on his face?
Matt felt Stanley’s concerned and baleful eyes locked on him. The dog nudged him with his nose.
“Good boy,” Matt crooned as he rubbed the animal’s head. The Lab’s tail began to rhythmically thump on the tiled floor. Matt dipped his hand into the biscuit jar on the table and offered one to the pooch.
Thank you, Lord, for Stanley. The dog had stuck by Claire when she’d gotten sick yesterday. Things could have been a lot worse if Stanley hadn’t been around.
So far the best thing he’d done since gaining custody of Claire was to bring Stanley into their lives. The rescue dog had been his idea, to give the little girl something to focus on besides her loss.
The plan had worked and in return the Lab had never left her side. He had taken better care of Claire than her own father. What did that say about his parenting skills? He hadn’t even picked up on the signs that something was wrong with his child.
Tonight was going to be another test. He had to wake her in the night to test her glucose levels with the meter. Could he handle that? What if he slept through the alarm? What if he forgot everything the nurse had taught him?
Claire’s life depended on him.
Diabetes. The diagnosis terrified him and he fought not to let her know how scared he was. She might go