A Dad of His Own (6 page)

“I’m glad.”
And I love you, too, Cooper.
He wanted to say
the words aloud. “The camera’s digital so it will take lots of pictures, and your mom can put them on the computer so you can see them.”

The boy continued to clutch the camera against his chest, his face tired but smiling. “Mom, show Ethan what you gave me for my birthday. It’s a Wii with the sports games.”

“I thought it would give him exercise when—”

“’Cuz I can’t go to school.” He pressed his lips together. “I really want to go to school, but the Wii will be fun, and I can invite kids over to play, too.” His eyes widened. “Or you could play with me…and Mom.”

His words washed over Ethan. He needed to set boundaries and expectations, but how could he discourage the boy and did he really want to? “Okay. We got a deal.”

Cooper’s enthusiasm subsided as his face twisted in pain.

Lexie leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good.”

Lexie rose. “In what way? Are you nauseated?”

“My stomach hurts.” He covered his mouth as moisture dampened his eyes.

“Can you get upstairs?” Lexie leaned closer, her face pinched with worry.

He sat a moment without answering. “Maybe.”

Lexie straightened as Ethan rose from the bench. “How about if I give you a birthday lift?”

“A what?”

His color looked terrible. Ethan didn’t wait for the answer. He reached out to Cooper and scooped him into his arms. “I’ll carry you up.”

Cooper didn’t fight him. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s neck as he hurried up the stairs. Lexie followed behind him, and when he reached the top, he paused. “Bathroom or bed?”

“Which one, Coop?”

“Bed.”

Ethan carried him to his room and placed him on the mattress. He stepped aside for Lexie to take over. Instead of waiting there, he headed into the outer room and stood near the window. The moon rose above the next housetop, and Ethan’s gaze drifted to the stars, longing to be able to wish on one. Better he prayed for Cooper and for Lexie.

When he heard a sound, he turned and Lexie stepped from the room and crossed over to him. “Thanks so much.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I was here.”

She touched his arm. “So am I.”

He wanted to cup her hand in his.

“I don’t have people to lean on. I’ve learned to stand on my own, but sometimes it’s nice to have someone to…”

He slipped his arm around her shoulder. “To be there with you.”

She nodded and rested her head against his chest. “It’s comforting.”

His pulse skipped, hearing her words.

She eased her head away and raised her gaze to his. “This is one of the things that happens to Cooper following the treatment and the new medication.” She motioned to the chairs and slipped away. “Would you like to sit here? I don’t want to be too far away.”

His arm felt empty without her there. “Smart.” He glanced at the moon again, then stepped from the window and sank into the nearest chair. No one to lean on. Her voice lingered in his mind. “What’s going on with Cooper? You said he had a new medication.”

She sank into the other chair and lifted the footrest as she stretched her legs on the cushion. “Today he had his chemo treatment and then a spinal tap procedure. They’d hoped his ANC count would improve, but it hasn’t.”

“That means he has to be careful about infection.”

“Right. He can’t attend school until his balance is good. You hear how badly he wants to go, and it breaks my heart. He needs the white blood cells that are neutrophils. Those are the ones that fight infection. Since that’s not happening, they’ve added methotrexate to his medication, and the higher the dosage the more adverse effects it can have.” She motioned to the child’s bedroom. “Tonight’s an example. Nausea and vomiting can accompany the treatment, and if it gets too bad, I’ll have to take him to emergency.”

A helpless feeling flooded Ethan. “I can’t even imagine.”

Compassion filled her eyes. “Sure you can. You’ve experienced having someone you loved deal with a fatal illness.” Her expression changed and curiosity took over.

Ethan saw the question coming, the question he didn’t want to answer. He gave her a feeble nod. “I have.”

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her gaze captured his. “Then you understand.”

His pulse quickened. Her tender expression touched him, remembering his own pain. “But this is your child. Your flesh and blood. That goes against nature.”

“It does.” She lowered her gaze again and sank into her thoughts.

Ethan wished tonight could have been a true happy birthday for Cooper. And he’d wanted some quality time to get to know Lexie better, but this wasn’t it. So many questions filled his head, but taking it slowly made more sense than acting as if he were doing a survey. “Each day’s a struggle, but think of one bright side of the situation. You’re blessed that you work at home. You can be with Cooper and not have to depend on childcare.”

She studied him a moment. “You’re right. I’m grateful for that.”

“I assume you’re in graphic art.”

“Right. I’m a graphic designer. I love the work.”

The new topic gave Ethan a reprieve. “What do you do? I saw that cartoon on Cooper’s shirt.”

She shifted against the cushion, her face relaxing. “I create CD and DVD covers. The project I’m working on now involves DVD covers for a company that makes cartoons and kids’ animated movies with characters like the one on Cooper’s shirt. When I first begin doing jobs like that and start brainstorming the cover art, I always ask myself what would catch Cooper’s eye.” She slipped her feet to the floor.

“He’s your artistic mentor.”

She grinned. “He inspires me. I figure if Coop likes it, then other kids will. It’s worked so far.”

Grateful for the stress-free conversation, Ethan leaned forward. “I’d like to see some of your work.”

Her eyes brightened. “Anytime, but not tonight. My computer’s downstairs.”

“I didn’t mean tonight. We’re on alert here. I’m not budging.”

Lexie studied him, her eyes lingering over his face, and the look sizzled in his chest. He managed to keep eye contact with her, not wanting to look away. The silence felt too important as if they were each surveying the other for answers they would never hear until they knew each other better.

“You’re a nice man, Ethan.”

Her statement came out of nowhere, and his chest constricted. He grasped his composure. “Thanks. I admire you, too. You’ve gone through so much, and you can still smile.”

“It’s that or sob. I’d rather smile.” She glanced at her watch. “I’d better check on him.”

Ethan sat on the edge of the chair and craned his neck toward the door. Only a second passed before Lexie came
out with Cooper and headed into the bathroom. He sensed he was infringing on their privacy as he heard the boy’s struggle in the bathroom. He should have left earlier, but he’d waited too long to leave now. Anyway, she might need him again.

Minutes passed, and Ethan rose, pacing the room and cringing at the retching sounds that penetrated the walls. He ached for the child. His pacing continued while he longed to do something. Anything.

The bathroom door opened, and Lexie faced him. “Ethan, I’m sorry, but I think I need to get Cooper to emergency.”

“I’ll take you.” He crossed to her side.

“No. I’ll manage. Don’t put yourself out for—”

“I want to go, Lexie. Let me take you.”

She gave a nod, gratefulness filling her eyes.

“We’d better go now.” Ethan strode toward the bathroom and waited while she helped the boy wipe his mouth before he stepped inside. He cradled the boy in his arms and hurried down the stairs, his heart in his throat.

Her only son. His mind repeated the words with every step he took. What would Lexie do if the boy didn’t win the battle?

E
than eyed the waiting room door for the hundredth time. He closed his eyes and sent up another prayer, asking the Lord to hold Cooper in the palm of His hand. His own hands ached with the grip he’d had on the arms of the uncomfortable chair. He loosened his fingers and stretched them, then focused on the door again.

The clock hands crept around the face. He’d compared his watch to the wall clock, and they were basically the same, both inching the minute hand forward each agonizing second.

He pushed his body upward and stood on wobbly legs. His right foot tingled with sleep, and he shifted his weight until the tingle faded. He stretched, gazing around the room at other anxious faces, doing what he had been doing for forty-five minutes. Waiting.

Magazines lay piled on a nearby table. He wandered over and shifted them, looking for anything that would grab his attention, something that would relieve the stress. Periodicals on health, women’s magazines, news, sports. He tossed them down. His interest was Cooper. It began and ended there.

He turned from the magazines and strode back to his chair. As his legs bent to sit, Lexie’s voice jerked him upward. She
stood inside the door, her face weary, yet her eyes filled with hope.

Ethan rushed toward her, longing to hug her. “How is he?”

“A little better, I think. They gave him something to help him sleep.”

He lay his palm on her shoulder, and she leaned closer, pressing her forehead against his cheek. His longing kicked into gear, and he slipped his arm around her back and drew her closer. She didn’t resist. Tension gave way from her body.

She eased against him. “I’m tired.”

He moved his hand across her back, hoping to soothe her. A longing rose to kiss her. “I know. It’s difficult waiting.”

She lifted her head, and her eyes caught his. “You’ve been waiting almost an hour. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I feel badly Cooper’s so ill, but I told you before. I’m glad I’m here for both of you.”

She rocked her head from side to side. “Ethan, you’re too good to us.”

She deserved so much better. That had been his prayer. “I can never be too good, Lexie. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care.”

“I know, and that’s what amazes me. You barely know us.”

He managed to grin. “I’m getting there.”

Her mouth curled upward. “I guess you are.” She squeezed him, then relaxed and dropped her arms. “Let’s sit a few minutes.”

The feeling of her in his arms played in his memory. Soft and warm. Trusting. He’d missed those sensations, but to get through Laine’s death, he’d forced the emotions away. Locked them up. Secured them so tightly he’d nearly forgotten the
beauty of sharing a moment that close with another human being.

She slipped into a chair, and he joined her, wanting to offer comfort but not knowing how. He covered her hand with his and remained silent. They sat as the clock clicked the seconds, each delving into their thoughts, each feeling emotions they couldn’t share. He could guess hers. A mother facing her son’s tragic disease must long for a miracle, for anything to take away the fear and the pain of seeing her child so ill.

His feelings were different. For the first time in years, he’d unlocked the trunk he’d closed. He’d allowed his emotions to respond to a woman and not just any woman. To Lexie, a woman who’d opened his heart.

Lexie shifted, and Ethan pulled away his hand. She pushed herself from the chair and rose. “I think they’ll keep him overnight at least.” She checked her watch. “If you don’t mind waiting a few more minutes, I’ll go and check.”

“Take as long as you need.”

She turned and slipped through the doorway.

He placed his palm on his knee, asking himself questions that had no answers. What did he expect of their relationship? Could he make it through another grave battle with cancer and come out unscathed? Would Lexie open her heart when hers was tied to her child’s needs? Should he be a friend and try to keep it that way or let his heart go where it willed? A thought poked him. Or was it where God willed? Did he have a choice? This relationship might be God’s doing. It might have nothing to do with the kind of relationship his emotions were taking him through. Was this an act of compassion? Was he the catalyst for Lexie’s faith? The questions reeled in his mind.

“Ethan.”

He jerked his head upward, surprised to see Lexie had returned.

“You looked deep in thought.”

He rose, willing his thoughts away from the journey they’d been on. “How’s he doing?”

“They want to keep him tonight, so we can go.”

“Are you sure?” He studied her.

“I’m a veteran at this. Don’t worry about me. Hopefully he’ll be released tomorrow.”

“Is he sleeping?”

She nodded. “I kissed him goodbye. I’m okay to go. This is a natural setback with the new medication. Cooper will be fine tomorrow.” Her eyes searched his with the look of confidence. “Really.”

Ethan forced his legs to move. She might be okay to go, but he remembered the times he made it home only to be called back to the hospital again. He opened his mouth to voice his concern, but Lexie looked content so he remained silent.

When he pulled out onto the highway, he left Lexie in her solitude. His tongue had adhered to the roof of his mouth with words he couldn’t speak and emotions he couldn’t swallow. Lexie stared out the passenger window, and her silence felt deafening.

Instead of forcing conversation, Ethan sank into his own thoughts until she spoke his name. He glanced at her. “Are you okay?”

“Thoughtful.” Her gaze drifted back to the window for a moment until she shifted and gazed at his profile. “Have you healed from your wife’s death?”

The question knocked the wind out of him. He swallowed and asked himself where the question had come from. “As much as anyone can heal from a horrendous ordeal like that. She was part of my life for eight years. We were married seven of those, and it was wonderful.”

“You still love her.”

Though confused, his heart warmed. “For sure.” He glanced her way, struck by the thoughtful look on her face. “How could I not love a person who brought me so much happiness?” He slowed for a light and stopped. “But she’s gone, Lexie, and as much as she remains in memories, Laine is not here. It took me a few years to—”

“Four, you said.”

She’d remembered. “Yes, four. Four long years to realize that she was gone but I wasn’t. Laine would want me to be happy again. She would want me to have children. I have no doubt about that.”

“Then…” She lowered her gaze. “Why are you still single?”

His heart plummeted to his stomach. “I haven’t found—” Hadn’t. He hadn’t found the woman until maybe now. “I’m waiting for God’s leading.”

She tilted her head. “His leading? What does that mean?”

He searched for an analogy she would understand. “You know when you’re trying to find the perfect outfit to wear to a party. Or you have so many choices and nothing seems the right one until you look in a new direction, and your gaze zooms in to one you hadn’t noticed. Right then, you know that’s the perfect choice—the perfect dress to wear. You put it on and feel wonderful in it.” He chuckled, realizing how feeble his explanation seemed. “I don’t hear a voice, but I feel it. Right here.” He pressed his hand against his chest.

“And that’s God’s leading?” Her eyes narrowed, and she released a lengthy breath. “I’m not sure I’ve felt that.”

“I’d guess you have a few times in your life.” The light turned green, and he returned his foot to the accelerator, giving himself time to think. “How about when you got married? Or when you had Cooper?”

Her eyes widened. “Cooper.” Tension eased on her face.
“Yes.” Her head inched up and down in three short nods. “Yes. When I had Cooper, I knew it was right and beautiful.”

“That’s when I would know it was God’s leading.”

The troubled look returned. “I don’t know if that…”

The expression twisted his heart. The look of anguish and doubt. He tried to make sense out of it. “Is it the idea of God? Or is it believing?”

She didn’t respond.

Ethan watched moisture rim her eyes, and he wanted so badly to help, to do something to make the hurt go away. He wanted to ask about her husband. Was that the hurt she felt? Had he left her? Died? But the questions sank back into his mind. This moment was for listening and waiting.

“Sometimes I feel as if I’m missing something. I don’t know if it’s God or a life without sorrow.” She shook her head. “I really don’t know.”

His chest tightened, hearing her say that much. She wanted to believe. He sensed that, but finding the Lord had to be personal and in His time. Ethan would be an example. That’s all he could do. “You’ll figure it out. Just keep your mind and heart open.”

She pressed her lips together for a moment. “How could you believe and yet face your wife’s death? That’s what I don’t get. I thought God was supposed to be loving.”

Ethan’s breath hitched, and his lungs emptied of air. He had no idea how to explain why God did what He did. Ethan trusted. That was it. He grappled to fill his lungs. “I trust Him. I’m finite. He’s infinite. God knows things I don’t, so I accept those terrible situations, knowing He has a reason that I will never know until I meet Him face-to-face.” He dragged in another breath. “I know that sounds simplistic, but that’s what my heart believes. It’s trust and that’s faith.”

“And it’s hope.” She raised her eyebrows, a faint grin on her mouth.

“Yes. We’re back to that.”

“I admire you, Ethan. You’ve had your feet knocked out from under you, but you stand firm like a fortress.”

He wanted to tell her God was the fortress. He was the lichen clinging to its sides. But he didn’t say it. He’d said enough for now. “Thanks. I admire you, too. You’ve been staunch and so independent, but now I think you can relax. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to say you need someone by your side. I don’t know where you’ve gotten your strength.”

“From experience.”

She quieted again, and Ethan knew he had to let the silence remain. She needed to think, and he needed to pray that the Lord would slip between the cracks of her heart and settle there.

Lexie leaned her back against the picnic table and watched Ethan with Cooper. From what she could tell, Cooper’s goal was to use every bit of the memory card in his new camera. He’d taken a couple close-ups of her, pictures of grass blades, wildflowers, leaves, a ladybug, the wood texture on the picnic bench and the apples she’d brought for them to eat. “Mom.”

She gazed at the smile on Cooper’s face, and her heart warmed like the sun.

Cooper wiggled his finger for her to come, and she rose, delighted to see her boy look so happy and healthy. A glow brightened his cheeks rather than the sallow shade of his skin for so many weeks. When she reached him, he handed her the camera.

“Take a picture of me and Ethan.”

She grasped the camera, her gaze drifting to Ethan’s surprised expression. “Is it okay?”

“Sure.” He crouched beside Cooper.

But Ethan’s face showed an expression not quite as certain as his voice.

Lexie stood back, adjusted the lens for a close-up of their heads and torsos. Her heart lurched when she watched Cooper lean his knit cap against Ethan’s cheek. Stress glided across Ethan’s face before he covered it with a smile. She snapped the photograph and returned the camera to Cooper.

But Ethan’s look troubled her, and she longed to ask him what he was thinking. Yet when questions came, she avoided prodding his thoughts. She might hear things she didn’t want to hear. Though she’d been edgy at times with their relationship, she told herself she did it for Cooper. Truth be told, Lexie had to admit she enjoyed his company. He’d been a gentleman all the way, never stepping outside the bounds of friendship or making suggestive comments.

What confused her was the disappointment she felt when he maintained the boundary. Dealing with Cooper’s illness had preoccupied her life, so the new emotional sensations threw her off balance. “Mom.”

She jerked her mind back to Cooper. “What?”

“Can’t you see me?”

She realized he’d been beckoning to her again.

Cooper continued to motion her to come closer. “I want to take a picture of you and Ethan.”

Her heart pounded. “You’ve taken enough photographs. You’ll run out of memory in one day.”

“No, I won’t.” He spun around to face Ethan. “You told me that we can put them on the computer, right?”

Ethan glanced her way with a subtle shrug. “Right. You save the pictures on the computer.”

Cooper widened his eyes. “Okay, Mom?”

A stream of breath escaped her as she looked at Ethan.

A gentle grin swept across his face. “It’s hard to fight logic.”

She moved to Ethan’s side, and they faced Cooper who stood back, adjusting the lens. He’d caught on so fast it amazed her.

“Closer.” Cooper motioned for them to shift.

She let her arm touch Ethan’s and felt his palm glide across her back as his embrace wrapped around her shoulders.

Cooper grinned. “Okay. Smile.”

She smiled and her pulse quickened at Ethan’s closeness. If she could understand her reaction, she would feel better. Instead of fighting her feelings, she moved away from the source and settled back on the picnic bench. Life wasn’t soft and cushy. Getting used to pleasures could only lead to disappointment.

Cooper and Ethan strode her way, her son beaming as he talked with Ethan. What if…? Her stomach knotted. No. Don’t go there. Questions were useless when the answers hid behind Ethan’s kindness. He knew the truth. She could only presume.

“I’m finished.” Cooper set the camera on the picnic table. “Can I have something to eat?”

The abrupt photo-taking end roused her curiosity, and she eyed Ethan.

Ethan gave her a wink. That was all. He must have said something to Cooper, or she assumed he’d be taking photographs until the sun set.

Lexie opened the picnic container and pulled out two apples and a banana. Cooper grasped one apple and Ethan, the other. She retrieved the banana and stripped off the peel as the sugary scent surrounded her.