Let Me Tell You a Story, Part 2

On Monday, I started sharing the original first draft of a sequel to Casting the First Stone, written almost immediately after I finished the book because I missed my characters. Later, this draft (which I found while cleaning out my files this summer) was replaced by the official sequel, Chasing a Second Chance. While I'm happy with the sequel, I still like aspects of this one because it features scenes that show characters in a different light.

There are lots of differences between the two versions, and I renew my offer to enter anyone who points them out (on my Facebook page, please) into a drawing to win a Kindle copy of the final book in the series, due out later this year. 

Or you can just read for fun.

Starting next week, I'll post a regular blog post on Mondays and the next installment of Casting2 (I'm as wonderful as ever with titles!) on Wednesdays until I run out of material. I'm also happy to hear your suggestions for an actual title for this project. I have one bouncing around in my head, but it hasn't gelled yet :-)

So, where were we? Oh, yes. Angel was in her hospital bed and Nurse Ramona had just taken baby Adam to the nursery. 

Angel lay back against the pillows and adjusted the bed again. And just how was she supposed to figure Adam out? She'd practiced with her dolls as a child, but they hadn't cried or squirmed and, when she'd rocked them and fed them, she'd done it just right. She'd been thinking about the kind of mother she wanted to be for as long as she could remember, but it wasn't as though she'd had a mother to show her how it was done. At least not since she was five.

She closed her eyes, knowing she should take Nurse Ramona's advice and sleep. The long labor had left her exhausted and dehydrated, yet all she could think of was everything that needed to be done. Adam had arrived two weeks early, before the crib she and Jim had special-ordered for the nearly finished nursery had shown up. When they'd built the house, Angel had decorated the nursery in shades of yellow but, in her seventh month of pregnancy, she'd decided that a little boy's room should look like it belonged to a little boy. Two weeks ago, Jim had painted the moldings pale blue and added a chair rail border of teddy bears with blue bow ties but the matching valances, which also had to be special-ordered, hadn't arrived yet either.

And then there were the birth announcements. Had Jim remembered to call the printer? And if he'd called instead of going in person to check the proofs, would the announcements say Adam James Alessio, 6 lbs. 7 oz., born at 4:35 a.m., or would there be a misprint?

Angel closed her eyes, fighting both the siren song of sleep and the overwhelming urge to pick up the phone. She really should call Marita to see if Charli was all right. Jim's thirteen-year-old daughter had been at the house last night when Angel's water broke, and she'd insisted on going along to the hospital before calling her mother. When they'd arrived, Angel had been whisked into a suite in Labor and Delivery so quickly and her contractions had started so suddenly that she'd lost track of time, and of Charli, who'd been hustled wide-eyed by Nurse Ramona out of L & D and down to the cafeteria. Marita had arrived within minutes to pick Charli up but neither Jim nor Angel had heard from Charli or Marita since. 

Marita. How on earth had she done this alone? She'd been only seventeen when Charli was born. How had she managed to stop her from crying, snuggle her in blankets, soothe her when she was upset? At thirteen, Charli was a wonderful, kind, well-adjusted young lady, thanks almost entirely to Marita. Meanwhile, Angel couldn't even get Adam to stop crying.

Maybe talking to Merrilee would help. And Thea. Thea had joked about going running to get away from her kids. Surely she'd not only understand Angel's fears, but inject some humor into the situation as well. Come to think of it, Nurse Ramona reminded her a little of Thea.

But she only saw Thea and Merrilee at Bible study. When would she get back to that group? And what was she supposed to do in the meantime?  

Angel drifted off to sleep, lists and concerns colliding with her dreams until hushed voices crept into them, nudging her awake.

"Now I'm trusting you ladies to stay quiet in here. I finally got her to close her eyes a couple of hours ago, so she should be waking up any time but I want her waking up on her own." Nurse Ramona's starched uniform rustled as she passed by the bed. "I'm going to get that little man and bring him in here. If I hear so much a whisper out of you all when I'm coming back down the hall, you won't be meeting that child on my watch."

Angel smiled, not quite ready to open her eyes and see who Nurse Ramona was scolding. She knew by now that Nurse Ramona's bark was completely harmless, but she doubted that her visitors did. 

The door clicked shut and Angel opened her eyes. Her Bible study group was gathered quietly in the corner of her room. Merrilee had her hand up to her mouth, stifling the laughter her eyes betrayed. Thea stood with her hands on her hips, and Gwen looked absolutely terrified. Rebecca was bent over listening to Nora, who was seated in the room's only chair, and who looked as though she'd have given Nurse Ramona a piece of her if the nurse had stayed even a moment longer.