The Doctor's Unexpected Family: (Inspirational Romance) (Port Provident: Hurricane Hope) (9 page)

Celina walked to the bed and grabbed Brownie. “Why can’t we stay, Mama? This place is perfect. It’s like a hotel.”

Angela looked out the narrow window in the kitchen. The orange light had faded to a dull golden glow. Just like the light, things changed. Maybe she needed to give a little too. Maybe Pete was right. With a quiet place to go over paperwork and make notes, she could cut through the red tape faster and get together the plans and approvals she needed to make temporary housing—not emergency shelters or refugee tent communities—a reality for people all over Port Provident.

She felt a tug at her heart. The fading light seemed to be taking her doubts with it. “Okay. We can stay. Just until we get the temporary housing situation worked out. Then we’ll go with everyone else.”

Celina ran and gave her another big hug, this time complete with additional stuffed bear love. “Thank you, Mama! Thank you! Brownie loves you too.”

The smile on Celina’s faced pushed away the rest of Angela’s lingering objections. She hadn’t seen her little girl this happy since before the storm. Even though their stay here would be temporary, maybe the stability of four walls and a bed would help reassure Celina that everything would be okay.

And maybe knowing that there were generous people out there like Pete Shipley—people who just wanted to help and asked for nothing in return—would help reassure Angela that everything would be okay, too.

Celina had asked to play with a fitness-themed game on Pete’s video game console, so he’d gotten her set up, and she was bouncing and running and wiggling in the front part of the living room. She was burning off energy and the fear that Pete had seen trailing her like Linus Van Pelt’s blue blanket—only in this case, it was an
in
security blanket.

Her enthusiasm made Pete smile. And Pete had plenty of enthusiasm of his own right now. While he and Celina had been working downstairs earlier today, an idea had begun to take shape in his head.

It had all come together now, and he wanted to run it by Angela. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew she cared about the people of Port Provident, and her opinion meant a lot to him as he decided whether or not to move forward with his idea.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Pete said after the last strand of spaghetti had been eaten and the dishes had been washed.

“About what?” Angela pulled some papers out of the bag she’d brought home with her.

“About the people at
La Iglesia
.”

She looked over the tortoise-shell frames of the reading glasses she’d slipped in front of her eyes. The glasses framed her face, bringing boldness to her features. “You’ve got my attention. What about the people at
La Iglesia
?”

Pete sat down on the coffee table, next to Angela’s overstuffed canvas bag, full of briefs and reports. “I’ve spent the last two days organizing all those donations, and I haven’t known exactly what to do with them after I got them organized. But this afternoon, Gloria’s mom introduced me to some of the women at the church, and they all had small health needs. I spent an hour after lunch checking blood pressure, handing out ibuprofen tablets and counseling them on what to do while everything is in limbo and their regular doctors are gone.”

“I’m sure they appreciated that.”  Her lips curved in a soft smile. For the first time since he’d met her, Angela’s face was free of worry. No furrow in the brow, no tightly pursed lips. She had relaxed, and it made Pete stop and give her more than just a passing glance. He wanted to do a double-take. But he didn’t want to get caught staring, so he forced his eyes to look out the window to the stars twinkling over the bay.

“I think we could do more.”

“We?”

“Well, mostly me. But it would be great to have your backing and to have people in the community know you support it. They think a lot of you in that neighborhood and in that congregation, you know. I’m an outsider. But in the time I’ve got left here on Port Provident, I want to help. I still have some obligations with my own clinic, as you know, but I think I can find a balance. I think I can make a difference.”

Angela leaned forward and placed the papers she’d been holding on top of the bag next to Pete. Her long brown hair brushed slightly against his leg as she shifted her position forward, then back.

“Tell me about it.”

“I think we set up a place where people can come and shop for what they need, except there’s no bill at the end. We set it up like a store and let people get what they feel is most meaningful to them.  We can set values on certain types of items, and then let people take up to a value limit per day. It saves us from having to set up rules and systems that just miss the mark. It puts a little structure around it and keeps people from cleaning everything out, yet still lets them have free access to what’s been donated and what they feel like they need. I’ve been scratching my head, trying to figure out what would be an equitable way to divide all of the donations. But maybe it’s not equity people need, it’s…”

“Grace?” Angela picked up where Pete trailed off.  “Not what they deserve, but what they need?”

She completed his train of thought perfectly and he jumped back in with full agreement. “Exactly. Grace. That’s what we can call it. The Grace Space.”

Angela’s maple syrup-colored eyes caught fire. He saw the moment the spark landed in them and got the life-puff of oxygen that made the color combust with golden embers.

“I love it,” she said, nodding in enthusiastic approval. “So you’d set it up at the church? In the sanctuary?”

“I think that’s the best place for right now. Pastor Ruiz said it would be weeks before they were able to start renovating the sanctuary. So it’s a very functional, open space. But I want it to be more than a store. I want to set up a clinic area too.”

“A clinic area? How so?” Once again, Angela leaned closer, and Pete enjoyed the shared excitement that ran between them. The days had been long and joyless after Hurricane Hope. It felt good to feel good about something again.

Pete laid out his vision for the clinic and how he planned to use his medical connections. There were resources and personnel from Provident Medical Center’s world-class medical school that were not being used right now because of the hospital and school being shut down. He felt certain he could even get some screening trucks from a hospital in Houston and perhaps a mobile pharmacy van from an independent pharmacy near Rice University with whom he had strong ties.

“As we’re talking, it’s coming together in my head even more clearly.”

The soft smile maintained residence on Angela’s lips. “So when do you think you can have it up and running?”

“Two or three days. I just need to make a few phone calls.”

“Ok, what else?” Angela reached inside her bag and pulled out a notepad and a red pen. “How can I help?”

“I need a few more people to help me organize according to the new plan in my head, but I should be able to find those at the church. Do you think you could get the relief agencies to set up some mobile offices in the parking lot to help people fill out paperwork? It would be nice to have a one-stop-shop.”

Angela scribbled on the notepad. “It definitely would. Now if I could just get FEMA to get me an answer on this temporary housing site.”

“What temporary housing site?”

Angela leaned back in the chair and watched Celina do a very animated dance to a pop song that had become popular toward the beginning of the summer.

“I’ve been working on getting the permits to turn the school softball and baseball fields into an area where FEMA can bring in trailers for temporary housing—like they did after Katrina in Louisiana and Mississippi, and lots of other places.” She tucked her hair behind one ear with a forceful swoop of frustration. “They’ve turned down several options because of elevation and flood plain restrictions. Today, I got a memo that said that the fields are also considered a coastal high hazard area and they won’t put the infrastructure and trailers in there now. So I’m back at square one.”

“What about the RV park a few blocks from Provident Medical, as you’re headed toward those brown apartments?”

Angela turned and faced Pete squarely. “I know the place you’re talking about. But I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“I know the guy who owns it. I’ve helped deliver both of his kids. They closed two weeks before the hurricane, right after Labor Day weekend, when the tourist season ended. He and his wife are about to put the park on the market now because they have to move closer to her parents to help with some health issues. Do you want me to give him a call and see if maybe the city could use it in the interim? I don’t see a whole lot of buyers lining up for anything like that in Port Provident right now.”

“Oh my goodness, Pete, would you? That’s a great idea. If the elevation checks out and they’ll let the city use it, we could get people in there quickly since they’ve already got water, sewer and electrical infrastructure built in.”

Angela’s excitement propelled her to move like a flash. She jumped out of her chair, leaned over and gave Pete a quick hug. He felt her arms go around his shoulders, as smooth as a narrow ribbon of silk.

She pulled back as quickly as she’d jumped and gave Pete a sheepish glance through thick black lashes. “Sorry about that.”

Pete could still feel an echo of her light, quick hug around the top of his forearm, just below the joint. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that sensory memory, but he knew he didn’t want Angela to apologize. He hadn’t felt a lightning-quick ripple of emotion like that since he’d first met Anna. The recognition that his pulse moved a little faster at the feel of Angela’s skin making contact with the thin cotton of his shirt scared him a little. He hadn’t ever expected to experience that particular fleeting change of heart rate ever again.

On the other hand, it proved he wasn’t as hollow inside as he felt most days. And that knowledge scared him a little bit more. But, not wanting Angela to know any of what he was thinking, Pete forced himself to regroup and act like nothing had piqued his pulse.

“Sorry for what? Excitement? Angela, a lot has gone wrong lately. It’s okay to be excited when something goes right.”

Like when an unexpected embrace makes you take notice.
Pete pushed the thought from his mind again, trying to focus on the discussion at hand. He didn’t need to answer these questions as they related to Angela. They were both caught up in the excitement of seeing their plans get underway. That was it and nothing more.

“I know, but…” she fidgeted a little as she settled back in the armchair.

Pete hadn’t known her long, but he liked her fire. She was passionate about those she cared for. Her eyes had lit up like a glowing ember when she’d caught the same vision he’d had for The Grace Space.  He felt like he understood this need she had to do for others what they couldn’t do for themselves. He had the same need, but in his line of work, it was called a passion for healing. Either way, he recognized the same force in her which propelled his need to quickly get to work at wherever Mercy Medical Mission wanted to send him.

“But nothing. You’re going to help me see that the vision for The Grace Space becomes a reality. I get to help you with your project. It all works together.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Pete. I’m grateful that you have the connections to help. But you’ve already done so much. You’ve opened up your home to me and my daughter and mucked out a studio apartment so she’d have a safe place to call her own.” Angela paused and the far-off look in her eyes made it clear she was choosing her words carefully. “I’ve just been on my own for a while now. I’m not used to asking others for help.”

“It’s not a sign of weakness, you know.”

She met his gaze, and he could see the slow fade of the golden glints that had been in her irises only moments before. “I know. I’ve just been disappointed by people too many times, I think. I’m used to things not working out.”

Angela cast a deliberate look over her shoulder, and the smile that had been on her lips twisted with an edge of wryness.

Pete knew she was a single mom. But now he could clearly see there was more to the story. He wanted to ask, like a doctor gathering a medical history with a new patient. But before he could decide how to broach the topic, Angela stood up.

“Come on,
Querida
Celina. It’s time for bed. Let’s go down to our apartment and get your bear.”

Angela picked up her bag and papers and gently herded her still-dancing daughter toward the door. As she passed, Celina bumped playfully into Pete and wrapped her arms around his waist for a hug.

“Thanks for being my friend, Dr. Pete. It’s good to have a friend like you.”

Pete returned the hug and promised himself that he’d be that friend for Celina…and her maple-eyed mother.

Chapter Five

Pete could hear the stress in Angela’s voice as she called him during a break in meetings. “This meeting between FEMA and the city and your friends is taking longer than I thought it would. We’re making progress, and I think we’ll be able to get the negotiations finished today, but I probably won’t be back at the apartment until after dinner. I hate to impose, but can Celina join you for dinner?”