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We Can Love Again ~ Second Chances in Camelot ~ Excerpt
     Julia kicked off her flip flops and refilled her coffee cup before walking down to the wooden bench set at the end of the pier overlooking the lake. The warm sand soothed her feet as she slowly strolled across the beachside end of the property. Just as Julia was about to rise up on the pier and climbed the three steps onto the pier, she recalled her conversation with her dad warning her about the wooden dock needing a major renovation. He intended to make his repairs before summer. It seemed to look intact. So, despite the cautioning words from Dad, she continued her stroll toward the bench at the end of the pier. With every footstep, there was a bit of creaking, but not enough to steer her away. There they were. The little boy and the man were still rowing the rowboat which slowly passed beyond the shore in front of her. Julia couldn’t help but notice the man paddling. He was without a doubt, the nicest looking guy she had given a second look to in a long time. She faced another direction, but her eyes, hidden behind her sunglasses, wandered toward this man and the movement of his muscular shoulders as he propelled the oars in a circular motion.
Once again, the child waved to her. Just as she raised her arm to wave back, wooden timbers supporting the very edge of the pier gave way. The wooden bench which rested at the dockside edge collapsed into the water, and Julia did as well.
     “Dad,” screeched the child as the man made an about face with the rowboat.
     Julia swam to the neighbor’s berth which she hoped was more intact. She attempted to pull herself out of the lake by holding on to the docking pole but slipped back into the water when she suddenly felt a sharp object jab into her shin. The man anchored his boat to the dock and hopped onto the pier, the child following just behind.
     “Take hold of my hand,” he said, reaching out to Julia.
     She put her hand in his, and with one firm pull and the secure guidance of his other arm supportive around the small of her back, she was once again on dry surface.
     “It looks like you got a pretty good gash there,” he noted.
     There was a lawn chair nearby which he pulled right up to Julia so that she could sit back.
     “I’ll be fine. I’ll just walk back up to the cottage and put a bandage on it,” she said, embarrassed.
     The stranger seemed to ignore what she said as he removed his t-shirt in order to wrap it around her leg.
     “What are you doing?” Julia asked as he was about to wrap her bloody laceration in his white shirt. “I told you I’m fine,” she added as she began to rise from her seat.
     Even through her pain, she could not help but notice the strapping build of his bare chest. The gold chain and cross hanging from his neck reflected the sun to her eyes. The man gently took her arm to lead her back to a sitting position.
     “Take a look at your leg. It’s bleeding so much there’s blood on the pier. Let’s get it wrapped up and get you to the hospital. You need a couple of stitches...and maybe a tetanus shot as well.”
     “Dad, we’re going to the hospital again?” the boy asked.
     “I don’t need stitches. Really...I’ll just get a towel and put some pressure on it. There’s nothing here that a clean bandage can’t take care of.”
     She couldn’t help but wonder why she was bickering with this stranger like they were an old married couple. As she stubbornly began to stand once again, blood spurted out of the slash of her leg. Suddenly light headed, she fell back in the seat.
     “Dad, that’s so gross. Look at all that blood,” the child yelled.
     The man continued what he planned on doing in the first place, and wrapped his shirt around her leg.
     “Are you here alone?” he asked.
     “Yes, I am,” she answered with frustration, at the same time realizing she was telling this strange man that she was totally alone out in the country.
     “I’ll help you back to the porch. I’m from around the bend, just three property lots down. Give me a minute to get my car so we can get you to the hospital.”
     “Really, um...” she began to say, then realized she didn’t know this man’s name.
     “Nick,…Nick Sitello.”
     “Really, I can get myself there. It’s my left leg, so I can still drive a car.”
     “I don’t think so,” he said as he guided her out of her chair.
     As she stepped down on her left foot, she nearly collapsed while gasping a deep breath. Her pain was obvious when she reflexively clutched his wrist. Without thinking twice, Nick swept her off of her feet as if he had known her for twenty years. She couldn’t help but feel the strength of his arms when he carried her to the porch where she sat in amazement at what this stranger had just done . 



Gracie Mae ~ Excerpt

           She could hardly breathe. The weight of his naked body over hers took her breath away…not in a lustful way, but repulsively. The aroma of the liquor from his mouth, his nose, could make her vomit. She pried herself from his drunken, comatose like body to slip from the weight of him.
            Thankfully, the young children did not hear the horror as they safely slept in their shared room just down the hallway. Gracie knew it was time to get away from the man who made her life a living hell for five years. Sitting on the floor of the shower stall silently weeping not to wake him, she allowed the spray of the water to rinse her soap lathered body, finally washing away the stench of his sickening sweat.
******
            The height of flu season was evident in the waiting room of Weston Pediatrics. Babies fussed for desperately sought comfort. Listless children clung to parents.  Sneezing, coughing, tears of distress, the children were indeed awaiting Dr. Azzari for a very good reason.
            Gracie entered the crowded waiting room as Jacob whimpered tears of discomfort, his head pressed in the nook of his mama’s neck, his finger plugged in his ear attempting to comfort his own pain. Four year-old Ella continued grasping tightly onto Gracie’s leg with no intention of letting go.
“Let’s go home, Mommy.”
The child, who was a picture of her mother, clutched her baby doll close to her chest while she shuffled her tiny feet with every step that her mother took.
            “Jacob needs to see the doctor. Let’s sign in our name and then we can find a place to sit and wait,” she assured her children who were obviously less than thrilled to be in a doctor’s office.
            “Name, please?” the receptionist asked.
            “Grant…Jacob Grant,” Gracie replied as she signed the registry log.
            “Can I have your insurance card, Mrs. Grant?” Before Gracie could answer, the receptionist continued, “…and, here’s some paperwork to fill out since this is your son’s first visit with Dr. John.”
            “Dr. John?” she asked with a look of confusion.
            “Are you not here to see Dr. John Azzari?”
            “Oh, I’m sorry,” she smiled. “I didn't know his first name.”
            “All the kids call him Dr. John.  It takes away the formality,” the receptionist explained.  “Now…about that insurance card?”
            “At the moment, I don’t have health insurance,” she answered, finding it difficult to balance Jacob in her arms while she grabbed the clipboard of paperwork with her free hand.
            “Hmm, no insurance,” the receptionist murmured.  “You understand that payment for today’s visit will be expected in full, do you not?”
            Embarrassed by the woman’s less than tactful tone, Gracie asked, “Do you mean that I cannot partially pay today, and then be billed for the balance?”
            “That’s exactly what I mean, Mrs. Grant.  It’s our policy.  See the sign?”
The sign read PAYMENT REQUIRED AT THE TIME SERVICES ARE RENDERED.  The receptionist stared at her as she rudely snapped her chewing gum.
“It’s policy…sorry,” she repeated once again.
            Why is she doing this to me? Isn’t everyone at a pediatrician’s office supposed to be happy and friendly? I can’t use Rich’s insurance card. He can’t know about anything going on with the kids. Insurance bills from here will give him more information than he needs to know.
            As her thoughts consumed her for a moment, a young, handsome man emerged from nowhere and approached the receptionist. With one hand resting on her desk, the other on the back of her chair, he whispered something in the receptionist’s ear. The polished charm of this noticeable gentleman immediately seized Gracie’s attention. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a crisply pressed white buttoned down shirt thinly striped in blue, with sleeves slightly rolled back. Noticeably on his right hand was a gold band ring with a smooth black stone.  Within a moment, he grabbed a folder and slowly walked away.
Still rudely chewing and snapping her gum, the receptionist said. ”I guess we’ll work something out.  Find a seat if you can and we’ll call you when we’re ready for your son.
            Fortunately, a seat opened for Gracie and the kids.  Jacob positioned himself on one of his mom’s knees and cuddled flaccidly against her chest. Ella sat facing forward on Gracie’s other knee, leaning back against her as she paged through a children’s book. Although it was difficult, the struggling mom managed to write down most of the requested information.  There wasn’t much to recall. She was a good mother, always on schedule with their doctor visits and immunizations. Her babies were everything to her.
            After completing the paperwork, she put the clipboard and pen to the side and rested her head back against the wall while she patiently waited to hear her son’s name called.  Her thoughts began wandering two weeks prior, when she first came to be on her own with the children.
     "Greta, do you hear me?" Gracie Mae softly whispered to her sister as she sat on the floor of her closet not to be heard.
     "Gracie, it's two in the morning. What's going on? I could hardly hear you."
     "I'm leaving Rich...right now, I'm taking the kids and coming up to Sanford," she began to cry in a soft hysteria. "I can't let him hurt me and my babies any longer. I'm on my way," she continued to sob.
     "Listen to me. Settle down and pull yourself together. Are you sure you don't need to call the police first?" 
     "What good has that ever done? He is the police. All of his friends are cops."
     "Okay, okay. Where is he right now?"
     "Passed out on the bed."
     "Then, just grab the minimal amount of things you need and get the hell out of there."
     While her intoxicated husband continued to sprawl passed out and naked across the bed, Gracie gathered as much as she could before placing the sleeping children in the car to drive home to upstate Illinois. She had been degraded and abused enough to finally run away from the man who made her life a living hell for five years. She knew her sister would be waiting with open arms.  Time and time again, Greta pleaded with Gracie to leave her abusive husband and live with her.  
     "Jacob Grant?"
     Gracie immediately halted her unpleasant reminiscent thoughts to gather her things; the diaper bag, her purse, eighteen month old Jacob, and Ella’s little hand. She followed the nurse into an exam room where she closed the door behind them. At least the nurse, who was wearing a white jacket printed with teddy bears, had a pleasant face and better attitude, more so than the receptionist.
     “Mrs. Grant, you can undress your son down to his diaper.”
     After weighing the child and taking his temperature, the nurse proceeded to ask the usual standard questions; the symptoms, the appetite, the sleeping habits, etc. After obtaining all of her necessary information, Gracie and the children were left alone until there was a faint knock to the door before it slowly opened.
     It was the same gentleman who whispered to the receptionist earlier. With an incessant smile, he looked directly into Gracie’s eyes for a lingering moment before extending his hand to shake hers. For the life she just left behind to make a safer home for her children, never would she have thought of noticing another man, no matter how wonderfully handsome he was…and, Dr. Azzari was just that, very polished and attractively handsome. His eyes smiled, which is what she noticed about him at first. The casually dressed doctor was of average height with a well-built physique. His short hair was modernly spiked in a somewhat messy look, giving him more of a model-like appearance rather than a pediatrician.
“Hello, I am Dr. Azzari, or Dr. John as most the kids call me.”
“I’m Gracie,” she softly replied.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Gracie.” Barely removing his eyes from hers, he asked, “And, who do we have here?”
​     He warmly took one of Ella’s hands, and one of Jacob’s as well. With fear in their eyes, the children each pulled away and fearfully grasped onto their mother.  After a few peek-a-boos with Jacob, the child gave the doctor a second look. However, Ella buried her innocent face into Gracie’s lap with obviously no intention of looking up at the strange man who was playing with her baby brother.

The concerned mother explained her son’s symptoms of illness; the intermittent fevers, pulling on his ears, waking often in the night. While she held him on her lap, the doctor took advantage of his stillness and examined his ears with the otoscope. The skeptical child became more amused as the doctor playfully shined the light of the instrument tip back and forth, bringing a tender smile to his face. As Dr. John softly spoke to the boy with what seemed to be a special knack of warming up to the child. He also attempted to add conversation to include Ella who continued to avoid any eye contact whatsoever. Even so, the doctor seemed to have a special way with children just as a pediatrician should. However, he would have to do much more coaxing to get on the little girl’s trusting side. After listening to the baby’s lungs with his stethoscope, he held his hands out to Jacob who surprisingly lunged into his strapping arms.
For a few moments, he carried him in his arms and quietly spoke to the child while pointing at various children’s drawings taped to the walls. After placing him on the exam table, he continued to softly speak to him, slowly but surely winning over his trust. When his exam was complete, he picked up the child, gave him a kiss on the top of his head and placed him back on his mother’s lap. Ella watched every move, but still was too frightened to unlatch from her mom. On the other hand, Gracie was greatly impressed by the doctor’s way with the children.
     He sat on a rolling stool just next to the lost family with a chart in his hand. He looked directly into Gracie’s beautiful brown eyes as he spoke.
     “Jacob seems to have an infection going on in both of his ears. It’s pretty red in there.” He was about to write a prescription before pausing, “You know, I think we have some antibiotic samples that would be perfect for his diagnosis.”
     He immediately exited the room and returned only a moment later with the child’s antibiotic.
     “It seems that your daughter is sniffling a bit as well. If you would like me to check her out, I can do so off the record. We’ll just include it in Jacob’s fee for today.”
     “Thanks. But, I think she just has a little cold,” Gracie stated, embarrassed to be the recipient of any further charitable actions. “She hasn't been complaining about her ears like Jacob. Besides, I don’t think she’ll let you anywhere near. Men are not her favorite gender these days,” Gracie looked at the doctor with wounded eyes of her own.
                                                                                                       *******


Love for Angela~ Excerpt
     “Angela. We’re getting a little busy out here. What’s taking you so long?” Dominic coarsely bellowed.
Dominic Varelli’s frequent rigid tone of voice was rarely noticed, for the smile that seldom escaped his face complimented his natural jovial manner. The worthy rapport he had with his customers at the Varelli Café would send them off to their jobs for the day with smiles on their faces and the best-brewed cup of coffee in the neighborhood to dance their adrenaline. With thinning gray hair and a short, round stature, Dominic played the role of a neighborhood bartender. However, he tended a morning bar tapping coffee and cappuccinos rather than liquor as did Tucci’s Tavern down the street. Since assembling at the café was a morning ritual for many in the small Italian community, Dominic was on a first name basis with the majority of his patrons, giving each of them personal attention as if they were part of his very own family.
     “I’ll be right there, Papa,” Angela replied.  “I’m getting some biscottis out of the oven.” 
It was that time of the morning when Vince Barecci made his usual entrance into the café, compelling Angela to deliberately stay out of view from the customers. A flow of autumn breeze, and the sound of morning traffic escorted Vince into the café.  No different than other mornings, Angela’s heart skipped a beat as the sound of his deep, captivating voice oscillated through her.
     “Hey, Dominic. I’ll take a strong one to go, and a couple of cannolis.  I’m running late, this morning.”
      “Hey, my friend.  Why so late and in such a hurry?” Dominic questioned as he motioned his wife, Lucille, to prepare two cannolis.
     “...had a late night, last night, so I overslept, this morning.  There’s an engine at the shop waiting for me to rebuild.”
Vince was a mechanic at Willie's Garage, located just two city blocks from the café.  While he awaited his order, he managed to catch a meager glimpse of Angela through the windowless opening between the back kitchen and the front coffee counter.  Although their eyes made trivial contact, Angela stepped back from his sight, pretending his presence had gone unnoticed.
     Contrary to her persistent avoidance of him, Vince continued his daily hopes of seeing this beautiful, young woman that had been his burning infatuation for the past two years. Although Angela was conveniently out of sight during his daily ten-minute visit, her evident uneasiness being near this handsome man couldn’t keep her admirer from his hopeful desires, regardless of her timid behavior.
     Vince often had daydreams of inadvertently discovering Angela alone in the café after hours.  In his fantasy, he would devour her bashful body into his arms and guide her to the office at the rear of the kitchen where she would willingly allow him to have his way with her.  
     The sight of Angela with her Varelli embroidered café apron wrapped around her slender waist, and her wavy auburn hair secured in a ponytail, joggled Vince’s attention from his wishful images.  He was intuitive of her meek and innocent character.  Angela radiated a natural beauty. But, aside from that, Vince found her bashful wholesomeness an attraction, as well.  Her entire essence was a welcomed change from the women he was accustomed to keeping company with.



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