A Dad of His Own (5 page)

She’d liked him from the day they’d met, but seeing him with Cooper added to her attraction. Ethan demonstrated a heart of compassion and a spirit of generosity. The book he’d given to her son couldn’t have been a better choice. Ethan
had really listened to her when she’d talked about Cooper’s interests, and that struck her as amazing.

She stared at the computer screen, eyeing the third layer of a cover design for a new children’s DVD. Besides the opportunity to work at home, the career gave her a decent income. Nothing spectacular, but she could pay her bills and pay for their needs. She’d even saved a little when her work was in full swing. With Cooper’s illness, she’d had to slow down, and though her parents had not been kind about her becoming pregnant without being married, they had come around when Coop was born.

Arizona eased the tension between them. Tucson and Clawson, Michigan, were separated by thousands of miles, and under the circumstances, Lexie accepted the distance with gratification. She and her parents clashed too much when they were together for any length of time. Yet despite their attitude, they had softened somewhat when Cooper came along. They’d even come for a visit and brought along gifts for their grandson.

Yesterday Cooper’s birthday package from them had arrived. Though he seemed happy to see the gifts, his birthday had taken a backseat to the treatment he’d had at the end of last week. How much could a child take? And now he faced another. Her chest tightened as tears moistened her eyes. Lexie rolled back her chair and left the den. She strode to the staircase. Drawing in a breath, she climbed the steps and made her way through the large play area in the upstairs foyer to Cooper’s bedroom.

Standing in the doorway, she eyed him, pale and silent against the pillow. Lexie tiptoed across the room and gazed at him. A new bruise darkened the arm that stuck out from beneath the blanket. Anger weighted against her loving heart. Her beautiful boy carried the burden of her mistake. No matter how much she tried to see the positive and talk herself
out of those feelings, they hammered at her each time she watched him suffer. And Cooper suffered in silence.

She bent over him and placed her hand against his forehead. Warm, but not hot. Relief washed through her. Watching for infection, excessive bruising, anemia and a multitude of other signs kept her vigilant. The quicker his treatment could correct any oncoming problem the better.

Lexie picked up the soup bowl and spoon, then backed away, seeing the easy rise and fall of Cooper’s chest against the blanket. He needed sleep as much as she needed to hold him in her arms. Turning, she tiptoed across the room and headed downstairs.

After rinsing the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher, she leaned against the counter. May 6 was the day Cooper was born. The moment she’d looked into his tiny face lived in her memory as a treasure. Everything else paled against the happiness she felt with her son in her arms. No matter how difficult life became she would never lose that joy.

She closed her eyes, clinging to those memories. When she opened them, Lexie strode to the refrigerator. She’d lost her appetite following Coop’s chemotherapy as much as he did, but she had to keep herself healthy for him. She opened the door and pulled an apple from the fruit drawer. She bit into the firm flesh of the fruit. The sweet taste filled her mouth as she snatched a napkin and headed back to the den and her computer.

When she settled back into her chair, she eyed the telephone. Ethan. She promised to call him. No big party for Cooper this year unless his next treatment went dramatically better. Lexie lifted Ethan’s business card laying next to the telephone and gazed at his number.

Since meeting him, Lexie realized someone besides Cooper now occupied her mind. Though she’d always been
careful with people, especially ones she’d just met, Ethan’s presence felt as comfortable as her favorite slippers. At first she questioned his motivation, but after his visit and seeing him with Cooper, she had a change of heart. Ethan exemplified what it meant to be a nice person. And that’s what still caused concern. He talked about God and faith. Religion seemed a big part of his life. She hadn’t read the Bible or attended church. She and Ethan were different, but she knew what good attributes were and Ethan had them.

When she questioned his motivation, she’d asked herself if his religion was why he’d been so kind to them. But reality finally settled in. No relationship could last based on a person needing to be kind. That had nothing to do with wanting or enjoying the relationship. She needed to pay taxes but that didn’t bring her happiness. If Ethan needed to be kind because the Bible told him to, then he did it to please God and not himself. That motivation alone didn’t seem to fit Ethan.

She shook her head, wishing she could make sense out of her thoughts. What did faith really mean? Often she longed to have something fill the hollow feeling that groaned in the pit of her stomach. Cooper gave her happiness, but she yearned for a kind of fulfillment she’d never had. A sense of completeness. Maybe that was it.

Glancing down at her hand, she focused on the business card and made her decision. She lifted the receiver and punched in Ethan’s number. After three rings, she shifted to hang up and then heard the connection and his voice. “This is Lexie. I should have called you sooner, but—”

“Don’t apologize. I’m really glad to hear from you. How’s Cooper? I’ve been worried.”

The answer caught in her throat. “I wish the news were better. He’s having a bad time with his last treatment, and he has another one Thursday, but soon he’ll be up and good again. I just need to be patient.”

“I’m sorry he’s having problems.”

She swallowed. “His birthday is Thursday, but under the circumstances, I’m not planning a real party. He’ll be weak, and he’ll sleep after the treatment.”

“That’s too bad.” He left a lengthy pause. “Could do something smaller.”

Disappointment flattened his voice. He truly cared. Not having a party disappointed her, too, as it would Cooper. And she would have enjoyed getting to know Ethan better. He dropped into her thoughts too often. “We’ll still celebrate in our quiet way. I’ll bake him a cake.”

“I like cake.”

Lexie stared at the receiver, hearing him say what her heart wanted to hear. “Are you saying you’d like to come over anyway?”

“Definitely. I’ve already bought his gift.”

“A gift? Ethan, you already gave him the book. That was a wonderful present.”

“But it didn’t come with a happy birthday card.”

A grin cracked the tension in her face. “That’s true.” But her mind still grappled with negative thoughts. Yes or no? Encourage? Discourage? Despite the warnings that lodged in her head, she liked Ethan. She pried herself from the trench and went with her heart. “Come over about six. I’ll make dinner.”

“I hinted for cake. I didn’t expect a meal.”

Her grin deepened. “That’s all the better. Is six good for you?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Then we’ll see you on Thursday. Cooper may be sick, but when I tell him you’ll be here, he’ll be ecstatic. You and the book have been the topic of conversation since you were here.”

“Really?”

His tone had changed, and she didn’t like the sound. She’d made a mistake telling him how much Cooper thought of him. “You know kids. They love attention.” She hoped that softened what she’d said.

“Yes, I suppose they do.”

Silence settled over the line, and Lexie clung to the receiver wishing she’d kept her mouth shut about Cooper’s excitement.

“I’ll see you on Thursday at six then. And, Lexie, thanks for the invitation.”

“You’re welcome.” She lowered the receiver and leaned back in the chair. Whatever she’d said had dampened the situation. Moments earlier the conversation had caused her to grin, and she hadn’t done that in days.

E
than eyed the empty place at the table and cut into his pork chop. Lexie had dinner ready when he arrived, so serious conversation had been put on hold. He didn’t want to ask questions that would make the meal a downer, and he feared talking about Cooper’s illness would send their moods down the drain.

He wished he knew how to apologize for his behavior on the phone. Hearing Cooper’s excitement caused a warning buzzer to sound in his mind. He didn’t want to be that important to the boy, and the more he thought about the situation the more he feared he might hurt the boy unintentionally. One day he would possibly walk away, and what then? The idea ran cold through his veins. How long could a man linger around a woman and child without allowing his feelings to emerge? And though Lexie had been friendly, he sensed her interest in him was about her purely thinking of Cooper. Not of him.

Lexie gazed at him a moment, obviously noticing his focus on the empty place setting and his silence. “We’ll check on Cooper after dinner.” She extended the dinner rolls. “Have another. They’ll go to waste here with Coop not eating much.”

“How bad is he feeling?”

“Bad. He turned down dinner and said he’d wait for the cake.” She shrugged. “Eating cake instead of dinner isn’t very healthy, but—”

“Right. Give him what he’ll enjoy. It’s his birthday.”

They silenced again, and he felt the stress surrounding them. He took another bite, uneasy with the quiet. “These chops are really tender. Mine always cut like leather.”

“You probably fry them.”

He nodded.

“These are baked. I have a pork rub that I use.”

Their stilted conversation bothered him. In their short acquaintance, they had talked with ease, and right now he wished he could put them in that frame again. Instead, he concentrated on enjoying the tender chops and the mashed potatoes with gravy. She’d even prepared carrots, one of his favorites.

Lexie nibbled at her food, distracted by her thoughts, he suspected. She handed him the potatoes again but this time, he declined. His own appetite had waned with the tension he felt.

“I can’t eat another bite.” He straightened in his chair and shifted the plate to the side. “Thanks so much for the excellent meal.”

“You’re welcome. It would be a rather sad party without you.”

He thought it was sad even with him being there. But he hoped that could change. “I’m glad to be here for Cooper.” He clenched his teeth to keep himself from telling her he wanted to be there for her, too.

“I wish he’d eaten with us, but I knew he’d wear out too fast. I’d rather he enjoy his cake and the short celebration.”

Ethan offered a mundane comment and sank back into his thoughts.

When Lexie rose and reached for the dishes, Ethan jumped to action, anxious to do something other than feel sad. He pitched in and carried the bowls and glasses to the kitchen sink, then turned on the water and ran the salad bowls under the tap.

But Lexie moved beside him and shooed him away. “You’re company. I can take care of this later.”

He stepped aside but didn’t leave. “If we do it now, it’s done.” He rested his hand on her arm, relishing the feeling of intimacy standing together over the sink. “You have better things to do with your time.” He stopped himself from referring to Cooper’s needs.

She resigned and accepted his offer, and while he rinsed the dishes and stacked them for the dishwasher, she covered the uneaten food and placed it in the refrigerator. “Coop curled up his nose earlier, but I’m hoping he’ll eat something later.”

“You mean something besides cake.” He chuckled, hoping the lighthearted comment might cheer her.

She grinned. “You never know.” She glanced at her watch. “Let’s check on him. He’s rested a long time.”

Ethan rose and followed her, happy to see the second floor of the house. Near the staircase, he paused. “Should I bring this up?” He motioned to the chair where he’d left the birthday present he’d bought.

“No. He’ll come down, I’m sure.” The tone of her voice didn’t fit the positive statement.

Ethan felt the weight of her worry as he climbed the stairs. At the top, he followed Lexie to a spacious hallway as large as another den, except for the numerous doors leading to the other rooms. “I like this. It’s different.”

“They called it a playroom when I bought the house, but it’s great for many things. I thought about moving my office from the den to here. But Cooper loves to sit by the window
and do puzzles or read. The light is great in the morning. So it’s sort of a…room.”

He chuckled. “Rooms are handy.” He scanned the wide triple windows where two easy chairs sat with a lamp table between, and another larger table farther over where one of Cooper’s puzzles was partly completed. He could picture Lexie sitting on one of the chairs close to Cooper’s bedroom, her feet on the ottoman, waiting and worrying alone. He adjusted his expression, fearing she would sense his thoughts.

But she had continued ahead. He watched her push open a door and stand inside the threshold. The room lay in shadow. He stood back, waiting for her to give him a sign to join her.

“Coop?” She stepped deeper into the room. “You don’t want to miss your birthday party, do you?”

Ethan could make out Cooper’s voice but not what he’d said.

Lexie reappeared in the doorway and motioned him forward.

An unexpected hesitation shivered through him as he pictured the clever boy bound to a sick bed. He forced his legs to move and planted a pleasant look on his face before he stepped inside the room. As he did, the darkness brightened with lamplight.

Lexie shifted away from the nightstand and beckoned him closer.

He eyed the boy’s pale face, his dinner knotting in his stomach. “Happy birthday, Cooper.”

The child’s face was paler than Ethan remembered, with shadows below his eyes the way he recalled Laine’s face after a difficult treatment. The memory deepened his sorrow for Cooper and Lexie.

Cooper gave a little wave and worked his way to a sitting position. “Did you already eat the cake?”

“Cake? No. We waited for you.” Lexie rubbed the top of his bald head. “And I have some dinner ready if you feel like eating.”

He shrugged, pushing back the blankets and swinging his feet over the edge of the mattress, wearing spaceship pajamas. “I don’t want to miss my own birthday.”

Ethan chuckled at the expression on his face. The boy still had a sense of humor. He backed away again and moved to the door, then slipped out, allowing Lexie privacy to help Cooper get ready. Trying to keep himself from dwelling on the child’s illness, Ethan stood in the playroom, noticing two doors ajar revealing a bathroom and laundry room. The other two rooms were closed. He assumed they were bedrooms. While he admired the layout, Cooper’s weary conversation reached him. He missed the eager lilt of the boy’s voice that he’d heard before.

Rather than linger there, he crossed to the staircase and took the steps to the living room. Seconds later, Cooper made his way down the stairs with Lexie following. He’d changed into his jeans and a T-shirt with a cartoon character on the front, one Ethan didn’t recognize.

“Time for the party,” he said as he reached the bottom. But his voice didn’t sound convincing.

“That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” Ethan ambled closer, not sure how to greet the child, but Cooper answered his question. He opened his arms, and Ethan grasped him in a hug, sinking into the child’s embrace.

Lexie scooted past. “I want you to try and eat some dinner, Cooper. Then we’ll have the cake.”

Ethan released him and straightened. “Let’s see what your mom has for you.”

Cooper stuck by his side, and they strode through the kitchen archway together.

Lexie stood at the refrigerator door. She glanced over her shoulder, listing what she had for him to eat.

“Mashed potatoes.” Cooper’s voice sounded decisive.

“That’s all?”

He nodded and headed for the breakfast nook.

Ethan watched Lexie prepare a plate, adding a piece of the pork chop and some carrots. He would have done the same. Better to tempt the child than give in. When the microwave beeped, she pulled out the food and carried it to the nook. “How about some coffee, Ethan?”

“Sounds great. Black works for me.”

She motioned toward the bench seat. “Sit there with Cooper and I’ll bring it to you.”

He slid into the booth across from the boy, and a moment later, Lexie appeared with his coffee. She left and returned with a glass of milk for Cooper and coffee for herself. He’d expected her to sit beside Cooper, but she slid next to him. The warmth of her body stirred him, and he drew in the scent of citrus. Shampoo, he guessed. Her long hair that usually hung below her shoulders had been caught back with a cloth band.

Ethan sipped his coffee, listening to Lexie encourage Cooper to eat. The boy dug his fork into the potatoes and nibbled at the vegetable. The chop lay untouched. When Lexie mentioned Cooper had opened his grandparents’ gifts earlier in the day, the boy’s pale face brightened.

“I’ll show you my presents. I got two videos and some puzzles.”

His enthusiasm lifted Ethan’s spirit. “Which videos?”

“
Shrek
and some cartoons.”

“Like the one on your shirt?” Ethan pointed to the clever characters.

“No. These are my mom’s drawings.” He grasped the T-shirt on each side and stretched it forward. “See.”

So that’s what she did. He grinned at the design. “You’re pretty good, Mom.”

She gave him a playful grin. “Thanks.”

Cooper rattled on, his spirit and energy improving, and Ethan tried to concentrate, but his closeness to Lexie distracted him. He loved her smile, even her grin, but today he’d seen too much grief in her eyes. He wanted to hold her close and warm away the sadness. When Laine had been sick, loneliness and sorrow settled around him like a blanket smothering all other emotion except anger. His bitterness had taken a long time to vanish. Now the bitterness had been replaced with acceptance. He’d leaned on the Bible during those difficult days and came to understand God’s way, whether he liked it or not. But Lexie? She had little to lean on without being a believer. Her family seemed distant. No references to her husband. Death? Divorce? Separation? He would never ask.

“That’s all.” Cooper pushed the plate toward the edge of the table. “Let’s have my birthday party.”

Lexie looked at the plate, a faint frown pulling at her mouth, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she scooted from the bench and carried the plate to the sink. The noise of the disposal sounded, then stopped. He watched her rinse the dish and slide it into the dishwasher.

Cooper followed her every move as she lifted the cover of a cake dish and pulled out a large chocolate creation. “My favorite. Double chocolate.”

Lexie looked up and grinned. “What else for my favorite son?”

“I’m your only son, Mom.”

Ethan chuckled until the words sank into his head. Only son. If Cooper didn’t make it through this illness, Lexie would
truly be alone. Just as he had been when Laine died. He tried to dislodge the feelings that crashed around him. Being alone. Not being a family. It wasn’t how God meant it to be. God said in Genesis,
“It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a companion who will help him.”
A companion to complete him. That’s what he’d missed. Being complete.

Lexie blocked their view of the cake, and when she turned around, she’d topped it with eight lighted candles. Cooper clapped his hands as she carried it toward him and set it on the table. They broke into the song “Happy Birthday” and he and Lexie joined in the clapping.

“Make a wish, Cooper.” He would love to ask the boy about his wish. Where would he like to go? Who would he want to meet? What would fill him with happiness even for a short time?

Cooper closed his eyes, then opened them and blew out the candle.

They all extinguished, and Cooper beamed. “I can’t tell my wish or it won’t come true.”

Ethan’s pulse kicked. That was the myth, but he wished he knew what Cooper asked for.

Lexie slipped away again and brought back plates and a knife, slicing thick pieces of cake for him and Cooper before cutting a small piece for herself. “Let me refresh your coffee.”

Before he could respond, she stepped away again and came back with the pot. “How about ice cream? We have vanilla and chocolate.”

“Chocolate.” Cooper answered first.

What else would a boy want whose favorite cake was double chocolate? Ethan chuckled. He was a chocolate fan, too. “Same for me.”

Cooper lifted his hand for a high five, raising Ethan’s spirit another notch.

While Lexie was dishing the ice cream, Ethan slipped back to the living room and brought the gift to the table. Cooper eyed it a moment, grinned and dug into his treats. Ethan placed the package beside him on the seat and enjoyed the dessert. The homemade cake was as moist and rich as he’d ever tasted, and he let Lexie know.

Cooper slowed down. He’d eaten much of the cake and some ice cream, but it was obvious he’d begun to tire again.

“Is it time for a present?” Ethan looked at Lexie for confirmation.

She agreed, and Ethan handed the gift to Cooper.

He tore off the paper and let out a yell. “A camera.” His eyes widened. “My very own camera.”

Ethan heard Lexie’s intake of breath.

He glanced at her, hoping she wasn’t upset. “I figured a boy who loves photography ought to take some pictures of his own.”

“Wow! Mom.” Cooper shoved the camera toward her. “Look. It’s a
real
camera.”

She gazed at Ethan, her eyes wide. “You shouldn’t have. It’s too expensive.”

“They get less expensive every day, and he needs a camera.”

“I need it, Mom. Maybe when I grow up, I could be a photographer and travel all over the world taking pictures of places.”

The hope Ethan heard in the child’s voice rent his heart. He managed to wrap his words around his tongue. “Sounds like a good plan, Coop.” He’d never called him Coop before, but it seemed right.

The boy hugged the camera to his chest. “I love it, Ethan.”