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A picture of Mitch sitting on the ground, surrounded by a group of young boys all giving the peace sign tore at her heartstrings.
He obviously liked kids. Did he want any of his own?
“Yes. It’s so sad to see how they’re living. Inside the orphanage, there’s a room for boys and a room for girls, and they sleep on mats on the dirty floor. Food is quite basic and there’s never enough of it…but they’ve never known anything else, so to them, it’s just normal life and they appreciate everything they have.”
Guilt over everything she took for granted filled her chest. No wonder Mitch lived such a minimalistic life—he was altruistic to his core. She could so easily fall for him if she wasn’t careful.
“Children of Mary… Is that the name of the orphanage?”
Mitch nodded. “It’s one of several in that area.”
“And all of these kids, they’re looking for homes?”
“Yeah. Adopting from overseas is a bit easier than adopting here in the U.S. actually. And unfortunately a lot of these children’s parents have died from disease or famine, so there’s no one to argue or intervene on the process of relocation to the United States. Babies and younger children tend to get adopted first, and the older kids continue to be overlooked and they often never find homes.”
It was heartbreaking to hear. Mitch’s stories had always been uplifting and inspiring, but she suspected there was also stress and a huge sense of responsibility that went along with what he did.
What kind of person would she be to ask him to consider eventually give up doing this great work? To expect him to?
Jessica studied him. “Spending so much time there, caring for them…have you ever thought of adopting one?”
He shook his head. “I fall in love with all of them and leaving is never easy. But then I remember the commitment I made to helping as many people in these third world populations as possible, and with my life requiring so much travel, it wouldn’t really be fair to drag a child along.”
Her heart melted, but his words served as a gentle warning. His life may not be set up for relationships to be possible, either. It made sense to her that a lot of the doctors he traveled with were husband-and-wife teams, either having chosen to embark on this life journey together or finding each other through their work with Doctors Without Borders. She wondered if he’d ever considered anyone he worked with in that way.
“But who knows?” Mitch was saying, his gaze locked on hers. “Maybe when this part of my life is over and I start a new chapter, then it might be something I would consider.”
A new chapter. He hadn’t exactly said when that would be, and she didn’t think he meant anytime soon. Wouldshebe motivation enough for him to consider that next path in life sooner than he’d planned? The idea was ridiculous, yet it plagued her all evening.
Despite her best efforts to push aside her insecurities and enjoy the photos, her mind and heart were locked in a conflicted whirlwind. She could understand why he loved his life. The places he visited were unique and exciting, and the challenges he faced on a daily basis were inspiring. Every day overseas was different. Unlike here. Hadn’t she just spent a week showing him just how predictably boring life could be in a small town like Blue Moon Bay?
Unfortunately, she took comfort in the predictability and routine of her days. Mitch wouldn’t. She held his hand tight, not wanting to let go as they reached the end of the slideshow.
“I think that’s the last of them,” he said an hour later.
“Wow, you’ve really led a fascinating existence,” she said, slowly getting up off of his lap so he could put his computer away.
“I can’t argue with that. I feel very fortunate to live this life. It’s fulfilling on many levels…” He squeezed her hand before releasing it, and she didn’t dare hope that maybe it wasn’t fulfilling on every level, that something—someone—might be missing.
Suddenly the air inside her house felt thick and heavy, and she definitely needed fresh air to clear the fog of uncertainty she seemed trapped in. “Why don’t we go outside on the deck? I think the storm has finally stopped.”
“I’ll be right there. I’ll get us some more wine,” he said.
She watched from the living room as he went to her kitchen, opened the bottle of red, and poured two glasses.
He looked so at ease in her home.
Before he could bust her for staring, she hurried outside and sat on the porch swing, dragging a blanket over her lap.
“Your house is in a great location,” Mitch said, joining her. He handed her a glass of wine as he sat next to her on the rocking swing.
She extended the blanket over his lap and moved closer so their thighs touched, then snuggled even nearer to him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “I love this house. I bought it because of its location and view of the beach. The inside needed major repairs, but I did them slowly over the first few years, and now the place is perfect for me.”
“You did the repairs yourself?” He sounded impressed.
She nodded. “I’m addicted to home repair shows.” She laughed. “I did everything except the electrical. I learned my lesson the hard way on that one.” She showed him the faint scar on her right forearm where she’d suffered an electrical burn when trying to install lights over her kitchen island.
“Ouch.” He brought her arm to his lips and kissed gently. “Full disclosure—I’m not very handy.”
