Beyond Ordinary

Angel’s frustration mounted.

“How much did we save?” Phil asked Missy.

“Four-thirty-five.” Missy smiled at him, obviously absurdly relieved that Angel hadn’t been able to vocalize her thoughts about Phil.

“Good girl.” Phil caressed her hip and she preened under his attention. Phil sat at the table again.

Angel turned away.

Missy pulled a frying pan out of a cupboard.

“What are you doing?” Phil asked.

“I’m making an early lunch for Angel.”

“So this is what you’re planning to do here?” He directed the question toward Angel. “Have your mother cook for you?”

“I didn’t ask her to cook,” Angel said, hating the way Phil questioned everything Missy did.

“I want to make her lunch, Phil.” Missy’s placating tone grated.

Phil stared at Angel with a thunderous frown and asked, “Are you planning to freeload off your mother?”

“What about you?” she snapped. “Are you working?”

“No.”

“Then you’re freeloading,” she shouted.

“Angel, he can’t work,” Missy explained. “He has a disability.”

“Yeah? I didn’t know they considered being brain-dead a disability.”

Phil surged out of his chair.

Missy slapped a restraining hand on his chest and held him back. “Angel!” Distress rode high in her voice.

Phil breathed loudly and stared at Angel with something close to hatred in his eyes.

The plastic clock on the wall ticked a loud cadence in counterpoint to Angel’s hard-driving pulse.

“Go ahead,” Angel said. “Take a swing at me, big man. Prove to Mama who you really are.”

Too clever to show his hand, Phil retreated, his thin smile bordering on insolence.

“While you live in my house, Angel,” Missy said, “treat Phil with respect.”

Angel reeled from the disappointment on Mama’s face. What? Had that really happened? Had Mama taken a man’s side against Angel? Mama and she were a team. The Donovan girls against the world.

What were they now? A crowd of three, with Angel the odd person out? Shocked, she left the kitchen, shaken by Mama’s need to defend Phil over her.

She sat on the bed in her room and hung her head, so scared. What if she lost Mama?

Phil was too clever. Angel led with her emotions, going off like lightning, while Phil calculated every angle, every advantage.

A short time later, she heard Phil leave. Wherever he was going, it was without the car.

She rushed to the kitchen.

Mama sat at the table with her cheek resting on one hand, looking so despondent that Angel put her arms around her from behind and whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry, Mama.”

She couldn’t bring up the issue of Phil again today. She’d handled it all wrong. Time to regroup and figure out how to do it better.

Missy patted her arm and said, “I know, honey.” There was a subtle but tangible distance in her.

Abruptly, she stood and said, too brightly, “Let’s have lunch.”

Throughout the meal, Missy maintained that distance. For the first time in their lives, the chatter between them was uncomfortable, made more so with her forced gaiety and Angel’s equally forced responses.

God, how was Angel going to get rid of Phil? For the first time, it occurred to her that if it came to a showdown, Mama might choose Phil over her. The prospect seemed impossible, but Angel could never have predicted her mother’s earlier behavior.

Oh, Mama, I don’t want to lose you.

Angel swallowed the last mouthful of her sandwich, and it felt like sawdust clogging her throat.

Refusing to believe that anything would come between her and Missy, she forced the dire thoughts from her mind.

They’d be okay. They always had and always would be.

Deciding to stick with her original plan to visit Matt—and to put some space between Mama and her—Angel asked to borrow the car. Before leaving, she kissed Mama’s forehead. Her responding smile was so vague it chilled Angel.

What was going on in Missy’s mind these days? Was it only the outburst between them and Phil that had her distracted? Or was something else bothering her?

Angel worried that question all the way to her brother’s place with no resolution.

Matt’s ranch was large and prosperous. Matt and his wife, Jenny, worked hard for what they had.

As she drove up the lane, Jesse ran out of the stable.

“Auntie Angel,” he screamed when he realized who was in the car. A second later, Matt stepped out into the sunlight with a big grin splitting his face.

She stepped out and Jesse threw himself against her legs, wrapping his arms around her. He was getting so big. She adored this little guy.

Her blue funk fell away.

Here, with these people, she found a peace foreign in every other area of her life.

This was a good family that Matt had made work by overcoming all of the pain and sorrow of his past. Angel wondered whether someday she would be able to do the same for herself. She planned to. Somehow.