The Super Mum. Karen Smith Rose

up. The arm was hurting him badly. David could tell. Talking seemed to help, and by the time the attendant wheeled Anthony back to the cubicle in the E.R., they were on their way to forming a friendship of sorts. That was going to be all shot to hell if Angela decided she wanted another mentor for her son. But Anthony needed a friend now, and David could be that for him tonight.

      Waiting wasn’t anybody’s strong suit, and by the time the doctor reported to Angela what the X-rays had shown, David could see she was worried sick but trying to pretend she was a competent mother who took accidents like this in stride.

      The doctor was all business as he declared, “It’s broken, all right. We might as well take care of setting it now. No use making the boy suffer longer than he has to. Son, have you had anything to eat this afternoon?”

      “No, sir. Nothing since lunch.”

      “Great. We’ll get you prepped and you can go home with a cast that everybody can sign.”

      Things moved fast after that. Before they knew it, Angela was kissing Anthony, and a nurse was wheeling him away. She’d followed the gurney out of the cubicle and stood in the hall looking after it.

      David picked up the bag that held Anthony’s clothes and belongings. “Come on. Let’s go up to the waiting room outside same-day surgery. The doctor said that’s where they’ll bring him when he’s finished.”

      When she turned toward him, she was pale.

      “He’s going to be all right,” David reassured her.

      “I know. But he’s so little. The hospital’s so big. I don’t want him to be scared. I don’t want this to hurt his chances to be anything he wants to be.”

      “Nothing’s going to keep that boy down.”

      She ducked her head and David knew why. Taking her hand, he pulled her back into the cubicle for some privacy. Setting the bag of clothes on a vinyl chair, he cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her head. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

      “What’s wrong?” he asked gently.

      “I tried to do everything right. I married a man I thought I could have a life with. We were happy with three beautiful kids until I found out about his affairs. Until he decided he wanted to be single. Until everything fell apart. I don’t know what I would have done without Megan the past three years. But she’s moving out, I had to take this extra job, and now Anthony’s hurt. And I can’t get in touch with Jerome. It’s as if he doesn’t even care he has a family. Or had a family. Somehow I always feel as if everything is all my fault.”

      Her tears were flowing in earnest now, and there was only one thing David could do. He enfolded her into his arms.

      Holding Angela was supposed to be a comfort-giving gesture. She needed someone to lean on, and he was there. She was leaning into him. Her breasts were pressing into his chest. Her sweet, summer-garden scent filled his nostrils and made him need in elemental ways. Her hair was silky under his jaw as he held her and she cried out of frustration, loss and fear. He suspected there was a lot of fear. She was a woman alone with three kids. She could be afraid of responsibility and bills and a life that was changing. At first, she’d seemed to be the epitome of an independent woman, and maybe she was. But this was another side of her—the side that needed a man’s comfort and support and a shoulder that was strong enough to help get her through this crisis.

      Who was the real Angela? Did she want to be on her own? Did she want to hook up with a man? Did she need someone to count on? Or was she looking for an easier way to live her life than as a single mom?

      Jessica had had a poor background without the loving family David had experienced in his early years. She’d worked at a fitness center, but as they’d gotten engaged and they’d both pinned their hopes on NFL dreams, she’d talked about quitting her job, searching for a house for them, taking the time to decorate it and join a few clubs. She’d wanted a life with him that would lift her out of the one she’d known. Not so much emotionally, but physically and monetarily. He hadn’t realized all that until after she’d left.

      He wouldn’t be any woman’s easy way out again.

      Angela’s sobs had ebbed away and she was quiet now, just resting against him. Freezing the desire that raced through him like a running back heading for a touchdown, he forced himself to put his hands on her shoulders and back away.

      When she looked up at him, there was confusion there…and dismay. “I’m so sorry. I don’t break down like this. It’s not me.”

      Was that the truth? he wondered. Was this situation with Anthony the clincher after a long list of squalls she’d had to handle on her own? “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You’re entitled. Your son was just taken to the operating room.”

      Seeing the bag of Anthony’s belongings on the chair, she went to it. “I tossed my purse in here.” Retrieving it, she straightened her shoulders. “I’m going to the ladies’ room before we head upstairs. I know you’re probably sorry you got mixed up in this whole thing. I never meant to fall apart on you.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I must look a mess.”

      “You couldn’t look a mess if you tried,” he said honestly.

      At that, color came back into her cheeks again. “I’ll meet you in the E.R. waiting room in five minutes, tops. I promise.”

      As Angela went down the corridor, he realized he’d have to decide just how involved he wanted to get in her life.

      Then again, maybe getting involved wasn’t an option. He didn’t even know if she still wanted a mentor for her son. He wondered if he should be that mentor—or if he should walk away now.