A Corner of Her Heart (Begin Again Book 1) Read online

  A wave of realization swept across Liz’s face. “I don’t see why we can’t do that,” Liz said with the same enthusiastic voice she had used when Monica brought in her first signed contract.

  “Thank you. This means a lot.”

  “Happy to help. And, Monica, don’t be a stranger. We miss your talent and flair for the unusual around here. You always have a job waiting for you, should you want it.”

  “That’s wonderful to hear.” Monica pushed back waves of uncertainty coursing through her. With Bodie sick and her marriage in jeopardy, pursuing a career wasn’t important. Not today, anyway. However, that might change if she couldn’t forgive Brad and put his affair behind them.

  Chapter Four

  Brad’s sneakers crunched the dirt and gravel as he and Monica strolled through Tres Rios Wetlands. He was surprised when she suggested an outing there as part of their marriage counseling homework. Tres Rios had been her painting refuge.

  “Well, did you feel anything?”

  “What do you mean?” Monica gazed at the white-crested ibis, waddling along the river.

  Brad followed her gaze to where a few egrets and heron interspersed with the ibis. He recognized the waterfowl from some of Monica’s paintings. “Isn’t the original magic supposed to come back?” He tossed a twig into the Gila River. “Wasn’t the romance fairy supposed to sprinkle us with her magic dust?”

  Frowning, Monica crossed her arms. “With that attitude, we will never recapture our self-respect much less rebuild our marriage.”

  “I only meant …” Brad began, but stopped. Everything he said and did these days was wrong or misinterpreted. He drew his shoulders up in a shrug and tucked his elbows against his sides in apology.

  They ambled along the trail for several minutes in silence. The clucking of the waterfowl mingled with the scent of the willows, reminding him of a noisy tea party.

  “I’m sorry.” Brad slowed and pulled Monica to him. “You’re right. I haven’t gone into this counseling thing with a full commitment. It’s just that no doctor can give us what we need.”

  “Dr. Ekker is opening the doors for us to find answers on our own.” Tugging from Brad’s hold, she stomped away.

  Brad hurried to catch up. “Okay. I’ll go first. I did feel something.”

  Monica turned and waited, as though defying Brad to say something meaningful.

  “When I saw you sitting behind your old desk, dressed in a sexy suit with that neckline plunged just enough.” He licked his lips. “It was like going back in time.”

  A satisfied smile danced across Monica’s face. “All I own anymore are yoga pants and T-shirts. I borrowed the designer suit from Kate.” Monica’s hands defiantly bracketed her waistline. “I still have marks from where the skirt dug into me. My size-six days are long gone.”

  “Well, you made that outfit come to life. I was ready to sign another convention contract.” He ran his gaze along the length of her body. “The only difference, this time, is I could take the meeting planner home.” He reached for her hand and kissed her smooth skin. “The first time, I was just hoping.”

  Brad tilted his head to see the sun peeking through the leaves. The weather was cool for a spring day. He enjoyed the crispness, knowing soon a sizzling Arizona summer would take its place.

  “Remember when I suggested coming here?” Monica asked.

  “Do I?” Brad chuckled. “Your exact words were, ‘Hey, honey, let’s take our sons on a picnic at the nearby wastewater treatment complex’.”

  Grinning, Monica turned to him. “We were just going to the river,” she said, referring to the confluence of the Gila, the Salt, and the Agua Fria south of their Avondale home.

  “Right!” He knitted his eyebrows. “Brian was a toddler. Brady was in kindergarten. And their mother’s idea of a family outing was a picnic at the local sewage treatment plant.”

  “But you kept an open mind.”

  “It was hard to do. I thought the place would stink. But the air smelled great. You always had a knack for seeing the hidden treasure. Taking time to uncover little gems the rest of us hurry past.”

  Monica pulled at the seams of her jeans—as though they were a skirt—bent her knees, and did a little curtsy. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sure that’s why Liz offered you your job back.”

  “She was being kind. Her staff is far more creative than I ever imagined.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, baby. It takes tons of creativity to keep up with four demanding sons. Going back to work would be easier.”

  “I didn’t tell you about Liz’s offer to negotiate a better deal for myself. It’s just nice to be recognized for something other than my sack lunch packing expertise.”

  “I’m happy to recognize you for all your many talents.” Brad lifted her hand and kissed each of her fingers. “Loving. Kind. Sexy as hell.”

  Monica eased her hand out of his grasp. “There’s a gnarly mesquite tree somewhere around here with our initials carved into it.” He watched her searching the wooded area for the tree.

  Disappointment lodged in his throat. She ignored his compliments. Hurt tightened around his heart. She would never forgive him. This was a waste of time.

  Monica hurried toward a clump of trees, and waved Brad over. “It’s the same tree Brady watered when we couldn’t find a restroom in time.”

  “B.M.B.B,” Monica called out the initials. “Let’s update it.”

  “And not get caught by the park ranger.” Brad pulled out his pocket knife. “The nature police frown on that sort of thing nowadays.”

  Monica blew out a long breath and dropped her shoulders. “Things really have changed.”

  Ten minutes later the tree trunk boasted two additional Bs. Monica traced her fingers over the carving. “That looks perfect.”

  “Did the old magic spark for you?” he asked, reaching again for her hand.

  “Maybe.” She tossed her hair, exposing the back of her neck, just above her collar. He wanted to kiss her skin, and linger in her softness, breathe in her scent, but before he could move, Monica shifted away.

  “It’s just that … well, I can’t act loving and sexy toward you.” She crossed her arms and moved her hands to where she could rub the tops of her shoulders. “You slept with another woman.”

  An icy pang slithered down Brad’s spine.

  “And my heart just isn’t in it. My every thought is about Bodie. I know it’s important that we get our relationship straightened out. Somehow it’s not a priority for me right now,” Monica said.

  “I’m worried, too.” He put his arms around Monica’s waist and pulled her to him. They would meet Dr. Kole tomorrow and learn Bodie’s test results. Brad dug the toe of his sneaker into the dirt. His gut told him the news wouldn’t be good.

  “I know we have to work at this.” She waggled her finger between them. “I want there to be a reason for us to stay together. I mean more than parenting our kids.” She broke from his embrace and moved down the pathway, nearly tripping over a few stones.

  Brad followed, slowly cracking a twig into small pieces and dropping each fragment along the path. “We have a life together with or without children.”

  Monica paused and turned toward Brad. A tear trailed down his wife’s cheek.

  “Monie, don’t give up on us.”

  She stared, her eyes overflowing with tears. No words passed her lips. Still Brad knew the answer. A poison-tipped arrow pierced his chest, spreading panic into his veins at what she still didn’t know about the affair. What he still hadn’t been able to share with her.

  I can never tell her. I will never tell her.

  Chapter Five

  The next day, Monica stared at the herringbone pattern covering the floor in Dr. Peter Grove’s office at Glendale Children’s Hospital. She and Brad listened as the pediatric oncologist droned on.

  “Unlike other cancers, acute myelomonocytic leukemia does not occur in stages. Instead, at the time of diagnosis, w
e often see rapid spreading throughout the bloodstream and it may have invaded an organ.” Dr. Grove paused.

  Her precious five-year-old, the newest victim of this rare childhood cancer. His words whirled through Monica’s ears and lodged in her brain. Nothing made sense.

  “Is that what’s happening to our son?” Brad asked.

  The doctor motioned Monica and Brad to follow him to a diagram hanging on his office wall where he explained what was happening to Bodie.

  Brad stood beside Monica and put his arm around her waist. They were Bodie’s united front. His two-parent army in the fight against AML.

  “Since this disease demonstrates an ability to affect the whole body at once, we must begin aggressive treatment as soon as possible.” Removing his glasses, Dr. Grove rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “What type of treatment?” Monica managed to ask.

  “We will start with chemotherapy and radiation. Things work more smoothly when I share this news first with the parents, then with the patient,” Peter Grove said. “You’ll need to come back with Bodie, so I can explain to all of you what to expect.”

  “Are there any other treatments?” she inquired. “Anything else we can do?”

  “We’re experiencing a great deal of success with bone marrow transplants, as well,” Dr. Grove replied in a somber tone. He handed Monica a brochure. “I won’t get into the specifics of the procedure today, but basically after the transplant, the donated marrow cells seek the right places in the bones to replace diseased marrow.”

  Monica opened the pamphlet and scanned the pages—the wording and diagrams a visual jumble. Her gaze settled on photos of young children, survivors of the procedure. Her eyes blurred, and her head pounded. Please, God, let Bodie be a survivor, too. She leaned against Brad, her legs unsteady.

  “It’s not too early to test family members to see if they could be a viable match for young Bodie.”

  Young Bodie. Monica’s heart rose in her chest and tightened.

  “Of course, Monica and I will be tested,” Brad said. “Bodie has three older brothers. Would they be likely candidates?”

  “Yes. Potentially, siblings provide the best match. We have already tested Bodie’s HLA type. Human leukocyte antigens are proteins found on most cells in your body. That brochure will explain everything in greater detail.”

  Monica tightened her grip on the pamphlet as though she held a map to the Holy Grail.

  “Basically, your sons have a one in four chance of being a match for Bodie.”

  “That’s good news,” Brad said.

  “Possibly. Unfortunately, seven out of ten patients who need a transplant don't find a matching donor in their family. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

  Monica’s eyes bore a hole through Dr. Grove as he moved toward his office door. “In this first stage, we use an anti-cancer drug to kill as many of the leukemia cells as possible to cause the cancer to go into remission. This treatment lasts about six weeks. After that, we’ll run some tests and evaluate where we stand.”

  Monica, still gripping the brochure, nodded noncommittally.

  “I know this is a lot to absorb,” the doctor said. “I want you to be aware of all the options. Give you a chance to prepare.”

  How do you prepare for something like this? Monica thought.

  “I recommend coming in before the first chemo appointment and taking a tour of the facility,” Dr. Grove continued. “You’ll meet other families and learn from their experiences.” He gestured toward his receptionist. “My assistant can arrange your appointments.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Monica managed to string the words together, overcoming the steady pounding of her heart.

  “We’re at the beginning of a long road,” he stated, shaking Brad’s hand before turning to Monica. “I’m confident Bodie will be in remission soon.”

  Monica turned her eyes to the ceiling. Why us, God? She wanted to ask Dr. Grove more questions—wanted to beat on his chest and yell that his diagnosis was wrong—but her insides, wrung out like a wet rag, left her frozen. How were they going to get through this?

  Chapter Six

  Monica and Kate, dressed in snow-white terry cloth robes and matching towel-turbans, relaxed in between sessions at the Canyon Day Spa. A plate of finger sandwiches and fruit rested on the table. Monica hoped the pampering would be a respite from the worry and fear permeating every facet of her life. She needed a distraction from the mounting tenseness invading her insides. The deep-tissue massage did little to unwind the tightness pulsating through her every muscle. There was no massage to relieve the pain in her heart.

  A breeze wove through the open-air spa café, gently moving the lilac and primrose jasmine vines climbing the stone walls. Monica loved how the air smelled clean and new—a complete contrast to the dark and dank rivulets streaming through her life. She glanced around the courtyard. Pairs of sisters, best friends, moms and their daughters, clustered at every table, soaking in the relaxation and chattering about their day.

  “How are the counseling appointments going?” Kate asked, sipping her hot green tea.

  Monica didn’t answer. She cradled a teacup to her chest and allowed the slow energy of a tranquil Saturday to invade. “I met her,” Monica finally said, setting her teacup on the table.

  “Met who?” Kate asked.

  “Samantha. Brad’s other woman.”

  Kate tipped forward, spilling her tea. “When? How?” She placed her cup down.

  “At the company banquet, a month ago. You sat with the kids, remember?” Monica turned away.

  “He introduced you?” Kate asked, wiping tea from her robe.

  “His boss’s wife, Margaret, did.” Monica pulled the lapels of her robe together. “When she called her Samantha it was like she stabbed an icicle through my spine.”

  “I still don’t get why you thought he was cheating,” Kate said.

  “I can’t explain it. I got this sense when I shook her hand. Something passed from her to me.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Maybe not.” Monica rolled her eyes. “Brad had always referred to her as Sam. When I found out Sam was Samantha, everything started to make sense. When he finally admitted to the affair, he called it a fling.” Monica slid her eyes to Kate. “He said he was lonely. It will never happen again. What bull.”

  “You took him back.”

  “What else could I do? We have a family.” Monica fidgeted with a cloth napkin resting on her lap. “This is so beautiful. I wish Julie was here, too,” Monica said, changing subjects. She and Kate missed their older sister who had filled in as mom after their single mother passed away during Kate’s sophomore year in college. Owning a business and raising three kids kept Julie’s visits from California few and far between. The last time the sisters were together was Kate’s wedding, nearly three years earlier.

  Kate lifted her cup and waited.

  “How could he come home to the boys and me knowing what he had done?” Monica blinked back a tear as though the motion would relieve a nauseous wave splashing through her soul. “He had another life we weren’t a part of.”

  “This isn’t irreparable,” Kate said, “as long as you still love him. Do you?”

  “I guess, but it’s different now.” Monica scrunched her napkin and tossed the loosely balled material onto the table. “Everything I counted on, everything I took for granted is gone. I trusted him when he travelled. Never once worried that he was cheating. Then I met Sam. Everyone else called her Samantha,” Monica said. “That’s how I knew. He wanted me to think she was a guy.”

  Kate took a sip of her tea. “So what’s the next step? I mean with Dr. Ekker.”

  “She says we have to talk about the affair if our marriage has any chance of surviving. That’s the topic of our next appointment.”

  “Wow, you haven’t talked about the affair yet?”

  “Sure, in the sense that I yelled and screamed. Brad apologized. I insisted he be tested f
or any diseases. He got pissed at that. ‘What kind of woman do you think I’d associate with?’ he said. I yelled back, ‘I have no idea. I’m supposed to be the only woman you’d associate with’.”

  Monica took several cleansing breaths, forcing calm to replace anxiety. “I’m sorry, Kate. We’re here to celebrate your birthday.”

  “Monica, I love you. You being okay is important to me.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” Monica leaned in. “How did you know Dr. Ekker?”

  “Eric and I went to her for pre-marriage counseling.”

  Monica’s eyes shot up. “You and Eric?”

  “We had stuff to work through. Eric was married before. The relationship with Jenny didn’t end well. He wanted a better start this time around.”

  Monica tapped her chin, pondering Kate’s admission. “Her guidance seems to have worked. You and Eric have an anniversary soon.”

  “Yep. Our third. We’re going to San Diego for a week.” Kate stared at Monica. “It’s time to give your sons some more cousins. I’m told ocean air improves fertility.”

  Monica lifted her cup and clinked Kate’s. “Aunt Monica, again. I like the sound of that.”

  “Seriously, Laura Ekker is the best at what she does. She’s a really good therapist.” Reaching across the table, Kate grabbed Monica’s hand. “You and Brad are going to get through this.”

  “Thanks, sis.” Monica released Kate’s grasp in exchange for her teacup. “At the last appointment, she explained the four stages of an affair. Funny. Affairs have a life cycle.” Monica set her cup on the table and glanced around. “Wish they’d serve us something stronger. After our last session, I’ll treat for any liquor you want.”

  “You’re on. I’ve got to get my drinking in before I get preggers.”

  Monica let out a snort. “Preggers? Is that what they call it these days?”

  “It’s better than knocked-up!”