: Chapter 17
Einstein said that the most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. Perhaps that’s why Matthew’s so beautiful to me.
Beth Cardall’s Diary
It was an hour after sunset when Roxanne dropped by the house to visit. After Charlotte was in bed, we went out to the kitchen. I made us some decaf coffee and we sat at the table.
“Charlotte looks like she’s doing better.”
“She is. We’re trying a new diet. The doctors think she might be allergic to gluten.”
“Finally they have something. When did they figure that out?”
I took a slow sip of coffee. “That’s the thing—they didn’t. Matthew did.”
“Matthew? Mr. Soap Opera?”
“The same. He came over last Sunday. I was still a bit in shock from Friday, so I was explaining to him why it wasn’t a good time for me to see him, when he tells me that Charlotte has this celiac disease and is allergic to gluten.”
“How did he know that?”
“I have no idea.”
“But he was right?”
I shrugged. “She hasn’t complained of a headache or stomachache since I changed her diet. She has more energy than I’ve seen in years and even her skin color has changed. She looks healthy again.”
“That’s amazing.”
I shook my head. “Honestly, Rox, it was so curious.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, it wasn’t like he was guessing at her disease; it was more like he knew what was wrong. He was just so confident. In fact, he asked something that was a little strange.”
“What’s that?”
“He asked me how old Charlotte was. I thought it was a little random, but when I told him, he said, ‘She’s only six, you don’t know . . . ’ And then he stopped, mid-sentence. It’s weird, but I think he was going to say, ‘you don’t know yet.’ ” I took another sip of coffee. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Maybe he’s an angel,” Roxanne said, then added, “Sure looks like one.”
I rolled my eyes. “I called the hospital to ask if it could be this celiac thing, and the doctor was impressed with the diagnosis. Then, yesterday, I called Dr. Benton and asked him. He agreed that celiac was a distinct possibility.”
“That’s crazy. So do they give her drugs for that?”
“No, it’s an allergic reaction to gluten, so we have to change her diet.”
“What’s gluten?”
“That’s what I asked. It’s a protein found in grains, like wheat.”
“You mean she can’t eat anything with flour? No cake, cookies, pizza?”
“No.”
Roxanne grimaced. “That’s awful.”
“Not as awful as what she’s been going through. And at least it’s manageable. Untreated, it can cause cancer and a lot of other problems, even seizures. It’s possible that that’s what happened Friday night when I gave Charlotte that bowl of Ramen—it triggered a seizure. Here I was trying to make her eat all these carbohydrates so she would gain weight, and I was really just poisoning her. So much for the Mother-of-the-Year Award.”
“Girl, you’re the best mother I know. You didn’t know. The doctors didn’t even know. So maybe Mr. Gorgeous is secretly a doctor.”
“I thought you said he was an angel.”
“Maybe he’s both. No matter what he is, you owe him. What are you going to do to thank him?”
“I don’t know,” I said, resting my head in my hands. “I haven’t thought about it.”
“Well, you better start. When do you see him again?”
“I don’t know that either. He said he was leaving town for a while. He said he’d be back in a couple weeks.”
“Good,” Roxanne said. “It will give you some time to figure out how to properly thank him. And I’m tellin’ you, sister, it better be good. You let this one off the hook, I’m revoking your fishing license.”