took a calming breath before answering her. “I’m the oldest of six kids, so I was the one who had to learn everything. I enjoyed helping my mom in the kitchen as much as I enjoyed performing surgery on my sisters’ baby dolls.”
Lorren couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice. “You didn’t really do that to their dolls, did you?”
He chuckled. “Afraid so. It got so bad they would hide them from me. I tried convincing them I was just making the dolls better, but after a while, they didn’t buy it.” He laughed. “I grew out of it when my parents started using my allowance to buy new dolls.”
She smiled. “So you always knew you wanted to be a doctor?”
“Yes, I think so. I’ve always cared for people and wanted to help others. What about you? Did you always want to become a writer?”
“No,” she replied softly, remembering the first story she’d written at the age of nine. “After my parents’ death, the courts assigned Mama Nora and Papa Paul as my foster parents. At first it was quite an adjustment for me, and I wanted to be left alone. Mama Nora discovered I liked to read and gave me a lot of books to occupy my time. Soon I was writing my own stories. I would give them to her for safekeeping, not knowing of her plans to submit them to a publisher when I got older. She did, and in addition to becoming a published author, I received a four-year scholarship to attend college in California. I’ve been writing ever since. My books are specifically designed and written to commemorate our ethnic heritage, as well as to entertain and enlighten children.”
Justin nodded. He wondered how her parents had died, but didn’t want to ask her about it. He of all people knew how hard it was losing a loved one. In her case, she had lost two. But she’d still made something of her life. He was impressed. “That’s quite a success story.”
“You think so?” Lorren’s voice clearly reflected her surprise with Justin’s comment.
“Of course, don’t you?”
It had been a long time since she’d considered any part of her life as being successful. The guilt of a failed marriage had overshadowed any such thoughts. But now, hearing Justin’s words made a part of her feel good inside. “I guess I don’t think about it. Writing stories is something I enjoy doing.”
Justin knew he was probably about to tread on dangerous ground with his next question. “Did you meet your husband in California?”
Justin’s question brought back memories of the day she and Scott had met. It had been one morning in a small café across the street from the newspaper publisher where she worked. Having graduated from college only a few months earlier and landed her first job as an editorial assistant, she’d been experiencing her first real taste of independence.
The first things she’d noticed about Scott were how handsome, well dressed, and sophisticated he was. Three years older than her, he worked as a project consultant for a major television network. For their first date, he’d taken her to an elegant restaurant in LA. On all their other dates, he’d made her feel special and important…and loved.
Scott had pursued her for more than six months before finally accepting that she would not agree to sleep with him or any man before marriage. Not engaging in premarital sex was a decision she’d made years earlier because of the good Christian upbringing Mama Nora had given her. But that decision had been reinforced after seeing what Syneda had gone through.
Syneda’s father never married her mother, and, knowing she was dying of breast cancer, Ms. Walters had written to the man who had fathered her child, asking that he come and get their ten-year-old daughter and provide a home for her. Syneda’s mom, who had never stopped loving the man, had died believing he would come. She had also convinced Syneda that the father she never knew would come for her, thus giving Syneda something to look forward to.