Read This Very Moment Online

Authors: Rachel Ann Nunes

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Christian, #Religious, #Literary, #Widowers, #Disfigured Children, #Mormon Women, #Charities

This Very Moment (4 page)

BOOK: This Very Moment
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He laughed. “You don’t look fine. Sit down and put this blanket on you. I was just going to make hot chocolate. Do you want some?”

His words reminded her of how many times she and Nicole had shared hot chocolate in France. Nostalgia clogged her throat, and she nodded. At least with him out of the room, she could regain her composure.

Bill left, and Kylee began to look around the sitting room. Covering most of one wall was an enormous cherry entertainment center filled with a large-screen TV and a stereo system with a half-dozen speakers. On the middle of another wall was a full-size fireplace, set for a fire, but unlit. Not a single snapshot or knickknack stood out on the dark mahogany mantle. The rest of the room was sparsely furnished with a brown leather couch, a matching chair, and a coffee table stacked with books and magazines.

The only picture in the room was an amateurish charcoal drawing of a young couple. The portrait hung in a dark frame next to a shelf of books that reached from the floor to the ceiling. There were no other furnishings or pictures of any kind. If she hadn’t known him before, she would never have believed that this was a man whose apartment in France had been covered with drawings of nature scenes and portraits he had sketched himself on the many hikes he had taken with Nicole. Bill had obviously eradicated his former life from his present, which meant he likely resented Kylee’s appearance.

Kylee clutched the handkerchief in her hand and wished she hadn’t come.

Standing, she crossed the room to study the charcoal portrait more closely, and it was then she noticed that all the books on the shelves were written in French. Maybe Bill hadn’t erased the past as thoroughly as she had thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Bill was glad to escape from Kylee and gather his thoughts. He wasn’t prepared to talk with anyone tonight—especially to someone who knew the truth about his life. At the same time he found himself glad it had been Kylee at the door instead of one of the former patients or colleagues he had dated over the past couple years. They had a way of turning up at his house at moments when they were least expected. He had soon learned that each was searching for something he couldn’t give—the vital part of his heart that had died with Nicole. He couldn’t love them with any degree of true emotion, and after experiencing real love, he found he couldn’t settle for cheap imitation. Still, he’d been trying to get out more, and rumor had it he was becoming a ladies’ man. Only he and the women he dated knew the truth—that he was a perfect gentleman. A bit cold and remote, perhaps, but always a gentleman.

He put milk on to simmer and went upstairs to his master suit. It filled the entire top floor and had been equipped with every luxury—a deluxe bathroom with a dual shower and jetted tub, an exercise room, a spacious balcony, a window seat, and even a mini-bar. But it was studiously uncrowded with furniture or accessories. He had once planned to make the empty exercise room his studio, but recently his artistic side had been focused not on drawing, but on fixing the flaws people found in their bodies. He saw it as using the same skills in a different medium. He was good at what he did and satisfied with his life. He didn’t need his drawings to be complete.

Discarding his silk robe, he pulled on a pair of khaki pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt before hurrying back to the kitchen. He placed the pot of hot milk, cups, and containers of different chocolate powders onto a battered wood serving tray.
Not bad for a bachelor,
he thought.

A sudden, unpleasant thought forced its way into his brain. Had Kylee come to ask him to perform surgery for Children’s Hope? He remembered the pleading faces of the deformed children, and his stomach tightened. Their innocence reminded him too deeply of Nicole, of her screams that day and his utter helplessness. Those children would be like Nicole, trusting and believing in a God that did not exist and could not save them. No, he couldn’t perform any miracles for them. He’d given them money, but beyond that he didn’t want any part of it.

Shaking off the feeling of dread, he walked into the sitting room to see Kylee studying the charcoal portrait on the wall next to his books. She started as he entered, and the blanket around her shoulders dropped to the floor, leaving her silver sequined dress to reflect the light. There was something about the way her green eyes gazed up at him—so startled and unassuming. How long had it been since he had seen anyone look that way? The women he had been dating were full of assumptions and plans. No innocence there.

Maybe she hadn’t come to use him.

“Interesting,” she said, inclining her head toward the drawing.

“Not very good, but it’s the only one I have of my parents.”

“Did you draw it?”

For a moment Bill said nothing, completely taken aback by the fact that she had once known him well enough to ask the question. That had never happened in America. “I was ten,” he said finally. “I never thought to make another.”
Now it’s too late,
he added silently.

Bill pushed aside a stack of magazines and set the loaded tray on the coffee table. Kylee picked up the blanket from the floor and returned to the couch. He noticed she didn’t put the blanket on again and that her lips were no longer blue.

He sat on the couch, leaving a big space between them, and began spooning chocolate powder into his milk, motioning for her to do the same. “So what brings you out here so late?” He tried not to grit his teeth as he spoke.

“I wanted to thank you.” She smiled wryly. “And to bring you this.” She held out her hand to reveal a crumpled handkerchief.

Bill relaxed and gave her a smile. “Any man who can afford to give ten thousand dollars to a charity can also afford to buy a new handkerchief.”

 “I know,” Kylee said, amusement thick in her voice. “The truth is . . . well, I was worried about you, and I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Out to rescue another person,
Bill thought.
Some things never change.
Still, he’d bet money that wasn’t the only reason she’d come. She couldn’t be as innocent as she appeared.

Kylee finished mixing her chocolate and took a sip. “Your donation set off a lot of wonderful things tonight. It’s always the first one that’s the most difficult, you know. Some organizers actually put a few plants in the crowd to elicit responses, but I never have. I want it to be real. Besides, the children spoke for themselves.”

“They did,” Bill agreed. “But I found it rather odd that you would announce the amount of my donation to the entire crowd.”

Kylee stiffened, apparently hearing the sharp edge to his words. “I thought that’s why you gave it to me. People always want recognition.”

“Why? So they can intimidate others into donating? To top their offer?” He knew his voice was bitter, but he didn’t care. “I don’t want that kind of recognition. And I certainly don’t want to force others into donating.”

Her cup clinked onto the table. “Forced into donating? Forced into donating? Don’t be ridiculous, Bill! These people are multimillionaires. They use more money on a weekend shopping spree to Europe than they donated tonight. They aren’t babes in the woods that I’m taking advantage of. These are grown adults with enough business savvy to run entire corporations. They knew what they were getting into when I invited them tonight. It was a charity dinner, and they expected to be asked for money. Each of them knew darn well how much they could give—if I showed them a good reason. So I did. We raised nearly three million dollars. Three million! With more promised. Some of them have asked for the video I made of the children to show their friends, and I’m planning to put it on TV.” She sat on the edge of the sofa now, her face flushed and her green eyes flashing indignantly. “This is going to change lives, Bill. Children’s lives. I’ve done something good!”

His irritation diminished in the face of her vehemence. “Okay, okay,” he said, “you have me convinced. I guess you’re probably right about these things. I mean, what do I know? I usually donate through the mail.”

The color in Kylee’s face faded. She removed her flimsy jacket, picked up her hot chocolate, and settled back on the sofa. “Yeah, well there aren’t many people like you. Most want to be recognized for their donations. Take one of the guys who gave us a hundred thousand dollars tonight. He just had to come up to the podium himself to make a plug for his corporation. I’ll bet he sends his photo to the newspaper reporter we had there.”

Bill picked up the handkerchief Kylee had dropped on the table. “I know you mean well, Kylee, but . . .”

“You’re not comfortable with asking people for money. I wasn’t either at first. But then I discovered that there are too many people out there who need help but can’t ask for themselves. That’s why I do it for them.”

Bill felt absorbed by the intensity with which she spoke, by her obvious dedication. Though they looked nothing alike, she reminded him in that instant of Nicole.

“What’s wrong, Bill? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“It’s nothing.” He waved his hand in the air between them.

Kylee contemplated him without speaking. Then she set down her mug and scooted closer to him. “I loved her too. I guess that’s really why I’m here. I feel guilty. I never even tried to contact her after those first letters I wrote. I was just too busy.”

“You were in another country,” Bill said dully.

“I was in and out of Paris for the two years I knew her. That never stopped me from keeping in touch.” She paused, her eyes locking onto his so firmly that he couldn’t look away. “I was her friend. You were her husband. I should have been there for you. I should have been there to mourn her loss. I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

The pain in Bill’s heart was aching, agonizing. He wanted nothing more than to be alone with his memories, but the tears in Kylee’s eyes begged for comfort. “It’s all right,” he forced himself to say. “I forgive you, though I don’t see the need. I should have married her long before I did. Then maybe none of it would have happened.”

“Oh, no! You can’t think that. Nicole was happy doing what she loved to do. Doctoring people, delivering babies—new miracles into the world. If she had been unhappy with your relationship, she would have asked you to stay home instead of going to America to continue your studies. She knew it was important to you, so she was content to wait. You must believe that. Wasn’t she always honest with you?”

Bill let his head drop to his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

Kylee grabbed his hands, forcing him to look at her. “I know it hurts, but what about the good times? Remember those trips you used to take up to the mountains? I’ll never forget the day I went with you to the lake. Remember how you threw water at Nicole, and she tipped the boat over to get you back?”

Despite his suffering, Bill smiled at the memory. “You two made me drag the boat to shore all by myself. My arms felt like rubber for hours. It’s been a long time since I thought about that day.”

“Me, too. Do you remember the s’mores I roasted over the fire?”

Bill snorted. “They were certainly better than that stinky fish Nicole caught.”

“Yeah, you never did like fish. I don’t like fish either, remember? That was why I brought the bread. Nicole was determined to make fish lovers out of both of us, but I didn’t want to starve.” Kylee’s laugh penetrated the numb part of Bill’s heart.

“I never did thank you for that.”

“You didn’t have to. You and Nicole were my friends when I needed some, and I wanted to contribute in any way I could to that friendship. As sort of a payment, I guess.”

Now Bill’s hands gripped hers. “No need. You did so much already. You were her friend when I was here studying. She talked about you all the time.”

“Those were good days,” Kylee said. “What came after . . . I . . .” She trailed off.

They fell silent, but it was a comfortable silence, one that didn’t send sharp pains through Bill’s gut. He wondered fleetingly if the mind-numbing loss and agony would have been different after Nicole’s death if Kylee—or someone like her—had been there to mourn Nicole with him. Nicole’s parents lived far away, and Bill’s own parents had died years before. His brother Jourdain had been there, of course, but he was soon wrapped up with the woman who would become his wife. Jourdain had found religion as well and had tried to use his new church’s doctrine to help Bill, but he had wanted no part of it.

BOOK: This Very Moment
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