Where Angels Tread (9 page)

Shane tried to smile, but he knew that it didn’t quite reach his eyes; he prayed that Heidi didn’t notice. “Definitely,” he said, feeling around in his pocket for his keys. “I’ll give you a call.” Before she could say another word, he waved goodbye and walked quickly to his car, started the engine, and steered away without a backward glance. As he rounded the bend, he saw Heidi standing on her sidewalk barefoot, watching his car until it disappeared.

Closing the door behind her, Heidi leaned against it and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She had felt obligated to invite Shane in, but the idea made her more than a little uncomfortable. Zachary was gone for the night; he had scored a rare invitation to a sleepover bash being thrown for a classmate’s birthday. After speaking with the boy’s mother Heidi had a hunch that Zachary was a last minute invite, but she was grateful all the same. Her son had made promising strides since meeting Shane, coming out of the shell he had shoved himself into, and Heidi was hopeful that he would now begin making friends his own age.

Heidi yawned widely as she stored the lasagna in the refrigerator for the next evening’s dinner; she was too exhausted to even pop it in the oven tonight, having spent the wee hours of the morning tossing and turning in her bed. Try as she might, Heidi couldn’t shake from her mind the words Zachary had said to her when they returned home from the hospital.

After saying their goodbyes to Shane and watching him drive away, her son had turned to her with a sad look on his face. “Are you replacing Dad?” he asked quietly, and Heidi could see tears forming in his eyes.

Her mouth had dropped open in shock. She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her; Zachary dropped onto it and laid his head on her shoulder like he used to do when he was much younger. The gesture touched her. “Of course not,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “What in the world gave you that idea?”

He choked back a sob. “You and Shane like each other. I can tell.”

Heidi chose her next words carefully. “Of course we do,” she said slowly. “But we like each other as friends. There is no one on earth who could ever take your father’s place. You know that, right?”

Zachary hiccupped softly. “I guess so.”

“Well I know so,” she said, tipping his face so that she could look into his eyes. Heidi was startled at how young her son looked, how vulnerable. She was struck again by how much John’s death shaped the course of their lives; where would they be now, she wondered, if he had lived?

Those had been the images that swirled through her racing mind the previous night as she lay under the covers shivering, despite the warmth of the room. Heidi and John, snapping pictures as Zachary and his senior prom date smiled awkwardly at each other. Sitting arm in arm watching their son receive his college diploma. Dancing at his wedding, holding each other close as the DJ played their song. Playing with their first grandchild together, tickling the baby’s stomach as he squealed with laughter. All of the things that could never be, precious memories that would never be made. Heidi felt each one like a heavy punch to the gut.

When she finally stumbled out of bed that morning, her heart heavy, her head pounding, Heidi knew what she had to do, for Zachary’s sake. She would push aside whatever feelings she had developed for Shane and keep him at arm’s length. No more flirting, no more stolen glances. No more hinting around for a date. Because her son had gone through the unimaginable, and he had come out the other side forever changed. Her focus right now needed to be on Zachary, and Zachary alone.

So what if that meant she would be alone for the conceivable future, sacrificing her own chance at happiness? It was, she reminded herself, something that any good mother would do.

“Shane! I’m surprised to see you here after all this time.” Dr. Holmby opened the door to his office and beckoned for Shane to step inside. Shane felt like his feet were glued to the front stoop of the house where his former psychologist both lived and saw clients. Dr. Holmby cocked his head and watched Shane curiously. “Are you here for another appointment? If so, you’re in luck. I just had a cancellation and my schedule is wide open for the next hour. But only,” he added with a wink, “if you’re willing to come inside. I’m afraid we’d have a hard time chatting out here on the street.”

The tension in Shane’s body eased slightly; despite his reluctance to see Dr. Holmby again, he had to admit that the man, with his fatherly nature and cheerful sense of humor, had a natural ability for making his clients feel comfortable. Dr. Holmby made another motion for Shane to follow him; Shane nodded mutely and trudged inside.

A familiar wave of nausea passed through him as he took in the rich mahogany woodwork and hand-woven wall tapestries lining the psychologist’s office. The shelves of each bookcase were weighed down with heavy textbooks, and a stone fireplace stood regally in the corner. In front of the fireplace sat two dark red leather chairs, and Shane’s mind flashed back to the dozens of times he had perched uncomfortably in one of them, trying his best not to relive the darkest day of his life.

Dr. Holmby gathered up the yellow legal pad he used to take notes and settled himself in one of the chairs, crossing one leg over the other. Shane sat down across from him and stared at the inch of pale skin peeking out from under the hem of the other man’s corduroy trousers. Anything to avoid looking Dr. Holmby in the eye.

“So what brings you here, Shane?” Dr. Holmby asked, peering at Shane with interest over the tips of his fingers. “I have to say I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

“Neither did I,” Shane admitted. “But to tell you the truth things haven’t been going so well in my life.”

“How so?”

Shane took a deep breath. It was now or never, he thought. If he ever wanted to truly get on with his life, he would need to begin the process of healing, however painful it turned out to be. “I’ve been living in this safe little cocoon that I created for myself to try and keep the rest of the world out. I’ve avoided friends, let my relationship with my family suffer, and basically isolated myself from every person around me.”

Dr. Holmby nodded along as Shane spoke, every so often jotting down a word or sentence on his notepad. “And what now has changed?”

“I met a woman,” Shane said, and he could feel a smile breaking across his face, lifting his spirits. As Heidi’s face swam in front of his eyes, the tension in his body visibly melted away. “Her name is Heidi, and she’s amazing. She’s a single mother, a strong, independent woman. She’s smart, caring, beautiful. I think,” he inhaled deeply, aware that he was about to admit something out loud for the first time.

“Go on,” Dr. Holmby prompted, his pen poised above his notepad.

“I think I’m falling in love with her. Which is crazy, because I just met her. But there’s an undeniable chemistry around us at all times.”

“I see,” Dr. Holmby said, careful to keep the expression on his face neutral. “And you said Heidi was a single mother? Have you met her child?”

Shane nodded. “His name’s Zachary, and he’s a great kid. A little shy, still trying to find his place in the world, but he’s really opened up to me in the short amount of time we’ve spent together.”

“So where do you want to take your relationship with Heidi from here?”

“I don’t know. No, actually I do know,” Shane admitted. “I’d like to ask her out, maybe start off slow.”

“And why haven’t you?”

“Because I’m terrified. I’ve been by myself so much for the last three years that I barely remember what it’s like to have a relationship with someone. I don’t want to do something to screw it up.” Shane twisted his fingers together in his lap as he talked. “The other day, she asked me to come inside, and I freaked out, Dr. Holmby. I made up a lame excuse about having to do stuff at home and practically ran to my car.” He sighed. “I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”

Dr. Holmby chuckled. “Of course you’re not hopeless, Shane. You’ve just been very lonely for a very long time. The fact that you’re even willing to entertain the idea of stepping outside of your comfort zone with Heidi is a promising sign that you’ve begun the healing process. You’ve realized that sitting home alone dwelling—or trying not to dwell—on the accident is preventing you from being happy.”

“What should I do now?” Shane asked uncertainly.

“That part is entirely up to you. Neither I nor anyone else can tell you how to live your life. Only you can decide what your next step will be. But I have to caution you—and you’ve heard me say this before during our many sessions—that until you tear down the wall you’ve built around yourself, artificially protecting your mind from remembering what happened that night, you will never be able to truly move on with your life.”

He leaned forward in his chair and gazed directly into Shane’s eyes with a serious expression on his face. “Remembering is the first step to healing, to acknowledging what happened and going forward from there. If you refuse to let yourself recall the details of the accident, you will remain stuck in limbo. Forever.”

*

Shane stood awkwardly in front of the refrigerated case of flowers at the local supermarket, having a fierce debate with himself. Should he go with roses or sunflowers? At least he was aware that carnations were out of the question, he thought, passing over the canisters stuffed with the colorful flowers. His sister Lacey once received a bouquet of carnations from a boy on a first date, and after she returned home she dumped them down the garbage disposal as a wide-eyed Shane looked on. “Never,” she warned Shane, wagging her finger in his direction, “
ever
buy a woman you like carnations. It screams cheap.” And he hadn’t, despite his mother’s protests that her youngest daughter was being unreasonable. Shane wasn’t about to take any chances.

Roses seemed like a good option, he thought, but somewhere in the back of his mind he was vaguely aware that each color signified a different meaning. He knew that red was for love, so he steered clear of that bin—he didn’t want to scare Heidi off. What about pink? Or yellow? The choices were enough to make his head spin.

Finally, when he noticed the florist eyeing him suspiciously, as though expecting him to stuff a bouquet under his jacket, he hastily grabbed a handful of white roses, hedging his bets that they were probably innocent enough. He paid the florist, taking care to flash his police badge in her direction as he pulled out his wallet, and walked to his car, rehearsing his opening lines again and again.

He had stayed up half the night practicing what he was going to say to Heidi when she first opened the door and saw Shane standing there, even resorting to writing down a few options so that he wouldn’t forget. “Hey baby” seemed a little too suave for his liking, as did any kind of joke he could come up with. Eventually, he decided that the best course of action would be just to hand her the flowers and ask her to dinner for Friday night. Simple, yet effective. Shane was really quite pleased with himself; he could definitely do this.

What he hadn’t counted on, he thought anxiously as he stood at her front door one nerve-wracking car ride later, was Heidi not being home. He shoved the flowers aside and dug out his phone to check the time; it was after six. He sat down on her front stoop, considering his options. He could go home and try again another time, but then Shane was afraid that he’d lose the courage he spent all day building. Perhaps he would sit here and wait until she came home? That seemed desperate.

After glancing dejectedly one last time at her front window, where the curtains were still tightly drawn, Shane decided on what he hoped would be a more romantic plan: he would surprise her at work. As he unlocked his car door, he imagined the excited smile that was sure to light up her face when he handed her the bouquet of flowers. Shane supposed that the other nurses might even clap and cheer at his chivalrous gesture. By the time he had pulled his car onto the highway, Shane’s heart was pumping in excitement. He bobbed his head along to the radio enthusiastically, unconcerned with the amused stares from his fellow drivers. He was a man with a plan.

He swung into the parking lot of Saint Andrew’s, grabbed the bouquet of flowers, and headed inside. The tired-looking nurse at the front desk smiled vaguely at him. “Patient name?”

“I’m here to see one of the nurses, actually. Heidi Griffin?”

“And does she know that you’re coming? Heidi’s an emergency room nurse, so unless she’s on her break she won’t be able to meet with you.”

Shane’s heart sank; he hadn’t counted on that. As he stared around the bustling first floor of the hospital, he began doubting his decision. “You know what? Never mind,” he said, backing away from the desk quickly. “I’ll catch her another time. Please don’t mention that I was here.” He hurried toward the parking lot, suddenly desperate to get away from all of the people now watching him curiously and return to the solitude of his own home.

“Shane?” a familiar voice called. He cringed and plastered a smile on his face before turning around. Heidi stood ten feet behind him, her hair pulled into a messy bun, looking surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?” She eyed the bouquet of flowers apprehensively. “Are you visiting someone?”