Wednesday, December 12, 2012
While shopping in a local bookstore in post-Katrina New Orleans, Heather Flanagan Kerry is startled when Sarah, a young clerk, asks her if she ever had a son and gave him up for adoption. Now a successful professional woman, Heather denies ever having a child, however, Sarah’s revelation that her husband is part-Asian tells Heather her past has caught up with her.
Wesley Chou, now a prominent oncologist hasn’t heard from his first love, Heather, since both their parents forced them apart in their teens right after they gave up their infant newborn son for adoption. He’s surprised when Heather contacts him to tell him their past has come calling. Fate draws them together again when their long lost son, Ezra, and his wife bring their infant daughter to Wesley. The child has leukemia, and Wesley contacts Heather as a possible marrow donor to save the child’s life. Together, Heather and Wesley must evaluate if they are strong enough to rekindle their love, face society’s condemnation of their past, and their own son’s anger.
Can their love survive the passage of time and the secrets that could destroy them?
Viola Russell is a New Orleans author who is happiest at her computer, creating new worlds.
Drawing a deep breath, Dr. Wesley Chou pulled open the door of the coffee shop, searching for the face that had bewitched him twenty-four years ago. When he saw her sitting in the corner sipping coffee, his heart raced.
She rose when he entered and moved toward him.
The silky hair, the tight jeans, the fisherman’s cross earrings, the smooth skin. Her beauty still made him gasp. He’d seen pictures of her in the newspapers and on television representing the Archdiocese, but those images hadn’t represented her stunning beauty. She’d been a lovely girl, but she’d developed into an elegant and poised woman.
He’d tried to forget his love for her. That woman who he saw speaking to the press wasn’t the woman he’d loved. When he’d made love to his ex-wife, Wesley had to refrain from calling out Heather’s name. The memory of her had carried him through every trial he’d ever faced.
With an effort, he controlled his breathing as he approached her, taking her hand in his. Her touch sent his skin tingling. As her gaze met his own, he concentrated on sucking air into his lungs. Much of that shared past was tragic, but no woman had ever sent his blood racing through his veins like that adolescent girl with auburn hair and gray eyes. His pulse pounded inside his ears.
Heather’s call had reminded him of what they’d lost. Seemingly, they had both moved on, but he hadn’t forgotten her. Had she forgotten their passion? He’d always loved her. Even when he’d agreed to give her up, he’d loved her. Had too much happened for them ever to rekindle that youthful passion? Probably, but his heart ached knowing she was once his and was now lost to him. Because of his cowardice. Because of his lack of will. He stared at her for a long time before leading her back to the table.
Heather’s eyes filled with tears. She dropped a tissue into the almost-full cup of coffee. Those tears cut him like a knife. What had happened to make her cry?