by Lisa Mills
“It could be an infection. We have to get him to the hospital.”
Her mother rose. “His bag is upstairs. I’ll run and get it.” Her steps faltered for a moment as she noticed Kevin in the doorway.
“Mom, this is Kevin Sutherland.”
“We’ve met,” she muttered. They exchanged rapid pleasantries as she hurried past.
Danielle knelt beside her son and took his limp hand in hers. Panic pressed against her ribs and tears pooled in her eyes. Kevin blurred as she looked at him. “This has never happened before.”
He inched into the room, his face inscrutable as he studied the bald-headed quivering child on the sofa. Danielle wished she could hear his thoughts. Maybe he was trying to reconcile the pale, thin waif before him with the picture of a vibrant, healthy child she’d given him at the coffee house. Perhaps, she should have warned him that Trevor had changed radically in the intervening months.
Then again, maybe it wasn’t Trevor’s appearance that had him studying the boy so intently. Maybe he was realizing what he was committing himself to and considering running away as fast as his feet would carry him. Some people didn’t deal well with sickness or difficulties, and Trevor came with a lot of both.
Then Kevin cleared his throat. “Why don’t you let me drive so you and your mom are free to do what you can to help him.” The calm and confidence in his voice chased back the fears she’d been entertaining.
“We might be there a while,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “I don’t have any plans.”
Her mother returned, carrying a blue and red suitcase with a super hero emblazoned on its front. “I think I have everything he’ll need.”
Danielle worked her arms under Trevor’s hot body and scooped him up, blankets and all. His skin burned against hers where she touched him. Kevin held the door and ushered them all out to his car. She took the back seat, letting Trevor stretch out his legs, his head in her lap. Her mother climbed in front, and Kevin took the wheel.
The interior of the car was luxurious, with black leather seats, GPS, satellite radio, and about all the bells and whistles Danielle had ever seen in a car. Even the back seats had seat warmers and separate climate controls near the vents. Feeling too warm with Trevor leaking heat all over her, she turned down the air conditioning a few degrees and aimed a vent at her face. The radio funneled country music through the speakers, and Danielle found herself humming quietly as she stroked Trevor’s bald head.
No one spoke as they drove. Kevin seemed deep in thought, which was probably for the best. Danielle didn’t want him drawing attention to himself. If he did, she might have to dodge questions from Trevor about their new chauffeur. A few times, Danielle caught her mother studying Kevin, and once she glanced back at Danielle, eyebrows raised in question. Danielle ignored her. Her parents would figure it out eventually, but she didn’t plan to provide any lengthy explanations.
The vehicle rode smoother than any car Danielle had ever been in, hardly registering the bumps in the country roads they traveled. With Kevin taking mostly back roads, they arrived at the hospital in record time. Just inside the emergency room doors, hospital staff placed Trevor on a small gurney and wheeled him toward an exam room.
“Only one of you can go with him,” the nurse said, stepping in their path when they started to follow.
Danielle’s mother turned back. “Honey, you go ahead. I’m sure there will be medical decisions to make. That’s your department. I can visit him later.”
Danielle looked to Kevin. He nodded his agreement then backed away too.
“I’ll show you to the family waiting area,” the nurse offered the others as Danielle rushed down the hall after Trevor’s gurney.
When Danielle stepped into the curtained cubicle, the nurse was preparing to insert an IV needle in Trevor’s arm. Tears streamed down his face and his lips quivered. He knew all too well what was coming, and he hated the poking and prodding. Her heart broke for him. He’d endured too much for one so little. Moving to his side, she took his free hand gently in hers and held it while the nurse did what she had to do.
The doctor arrived and quickly determined that Trevor’s PICC line had become infected. “We need to remove it in order for the infection to heal.” He reached for Trevor’s arm and began to peel back the tape that affixed the tube to his skin.
Fear leapt into Trevor’s eyes, and he began to squirm.
She laid a hand on his chest to calm him. “Right now? He doesn’t need sedation?”
The doctor smiled kindly down at Trevor. “I promise you won’t feel any pain. Just a little pressure here by the entry point. Can you handle that?”
Trevor gave a little nod, then pressed his eyes closed, his fingers gripped tightly around Danielle’s hand.
The doctor gently tugged at the tubing until several feet of it had pulled free. Trevor sighed with relief.
Over the next two hours, they started him on a strong dose of antibiotics, admitted him to the hospital, and moved him to the third floor. He’d have to stay until the infection was under control. Trevor drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the ordeal.
Danielle tiptoed out of his room and walked down the hall, searching for a vending machine. A can of soda, preferably one with caffeine, sounded good at the moment. The end of the hallway opened up into a lounge with sofas and chairs and a wide sunny window that overlooked the parking lot.
Kevin sat in the far corner, head resting against the back of the sofa, eyes closed. They blinked open as her shoes scuffed across the short carpeting. He stood to greet her. “How is he?”
“Asleep,” she answered, caught off guard at finding him there. She’d left him downstairs near the emergency room. “What are you doing up here?”
He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and shrugged. “The nurse updated me when they moved Trevor to this floor. The waiting room here was quieter than downstairs.”
Danielle looked around the empty room, feeling bad that she hadn’t updated Kevin and her mother herself. But Trevor had been upset, so she didn’t want to leave his side. “Where’d Mom go?”
“She called your father. He picked her up after work.”
Then Danielle felt really guilty. She should have sent them both home as soon as she knew Trevor was being admitted for a lengthy stay. “I’m sorry I left you waiting, Kevin. You should have gone too. You didn’t have to stick around all this time.”
His eyes radiated gentleness and understanding. “I didn’t mind. And I didn’t want to leave you stranded if you needed a ride home.”
“They’ve admitted him. Trevor will have to stay for a week or so until his infection is gone. I usually stay with him.”
“The whole time?” He sounded surprised.
“I might run home for a shower if my mom comes up for a visit. But Trevor gets upset with all the … well, the discomforts of being in the hospital. He handles things better if someone is here to hold his hand.”
Kevin nodded, but the look on his face suggested his thoughts were wandering somewhere else. The dryness of her throat reminded her why she’d come. The room didn’t contain a vending machine, but there was a water cooler in one corner. She filled a paper cup and sipped, thankful to wet her throat, but wishing for some caffeine to boost her energy.
She moved to the window and watched a bird flitting around the branches of a nearby tree. Some of the tension that had lodged in her shoulders over the last few hours began to melt away.
“He looks just like I did at that age.” The tone of his quiet statement shattered her indifference.
“I’ve always thought he favored you.” She made the mistake of glancing his direction as she spoke. The fierce look on his face captivated her. She couldn’t turn away from his probing gaze.
Kevin stepped closer, his face earnest, his voice low and intimate. “I missed out on eight years of his life, and I still don’t understand why. I don’t even know what happened between us.”
H
er stomach twisted and her pulse slipped into high gear as a fight-or-flight instinct swept through her body. The conversation had shifted to a dangerous subject, one that tread too close to the bleeding wounds on her tattered heart. If he weren’t blocking the path to the door, she would have run away. The only escape she could manage in the small space was to turn her back to him and hide from his demanding eyes. She stared blindly out the window, watching but not seeing the people milling about the parking lot below.
“Dani?” His voice broke on her name, the emotion behind the word pulling at her like no other force she’d felt. “Did you miss me at all?”
He moved to stand a few feet behind her, and their eyes met in the reflection on the glass. Sadness and undisguised hope mingled on his features.
Danielle’s chest began to burn from holding her breath. The antiseptic-smelling hospital air stung her throat as she dragged it into her lungs. “That part of my life is over. I don’t think about it, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
His eyes closed, and his chin dropped to his chest. “I didn’t want it to be this way.” The ache of regret rang through his quiet admission and tore at her.
She closed her eyes, too, unable to look at the pain in his face and not feel her own more acutely. “I have to go,” she mumbled, darting past him before he had a chance to react.
“Dani, wait!” He charged after her and not seeing any way to escape or hide from him, she whirled around to face him.
“What is it now?” The harshness of her tone didn’t draw a reaction from him.
He stopped just an arm’s length away, close enough that she could smell the spicy scent of his cologne. “What about Trevor? When can I see him?”
That again. She was already regretting her moment of sympathy at the coffee house. Now that she’d opened the door and let him halfway in, he wasn’t going to be satisfied with anything less than a full invitation to his son’s life.
“If he’s awake and feeling better tomorrow morning, I’ll talk to him.”
“What time?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“I’ll be here. I want to meet him. As soon as possible.”
His hurry-up attitude rankled. After eight years of shirking his parental duties, now he couldn’t wait to be a father? She wasn’t sure he understood the stakes. “Don’t do this unless you’re one hundred percent committed. You can’t waltz in and out as you please. If you’re in, you’re all in. That’s the only option.”
“I understand.”
He answered to quickly, like he didn’t have to give the matter any thought. “I swear, Kevin, if I tell him about you, if I let you get to know him, and you hurt him—”
“I won’t.”
She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, letting him glimpse the mother’s fury he’d face if he crossed her. Her voice was edged with steal when she spoke. “If you do, you will never see him again. Never. Do you understand? You get one chance here, and that’s it.”
“That’s all I ask.” He spoke the words with quiet confidence, as if he had no doubts, no reservations.
She stared at him, daring him to flinch or retract his words or look away. He didn’t.
She sighed. Too tired to fight him, she resigned herself to the inevitable. “All right then, I’ll talk to Trevor tomorrow and prepare him to meet you.”
“What time should I come?”
“After work? You do have to work, right?”
“I’m taking a vacation day to spend time with my son.”
They stood in the hall, staring at one another, locked in a battle of wills. Kevin’s determination showed no signs of wavering, and Danielle realized she couldn’t keep the two of them apart forever. At least if she introduced them her way, she’d have some control over the situation. Her heart ached as she gave in.
“Visiting hours start at ten in the morning. I guess we’ll be done with breakfast and doctor’s rounds by then. I can talk to him once the morning routine is out of the way.”
“Thank you.” The words rang with an irritating sincerity.
She stared at him a moment longer, then whirled and walked away. She had one more night alone with Trevor and she planned to make the most of it. She’d worry about tomorrow later.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Trevor seemed to be responding to the antibiotics and treatment. His fever was down and his energy was a little better than when he’d been checked into the hospital. Danielle sat on the edge of his bed, a checkerboard perched between them on the rolling tray table. After months of convalescent play, Trevor had acquired some serious skills at the game. If she didn’t pay careful attention, he’d annihilate her in minutes.
“It’s your move, Mom.”
“I know. I’m looking for a place to move that you can’t jump me.”
“There isn’t one,” he said with an unrepentant grin. “I’m going to win again.”
She narrowed her eyes and gave him a playful glare. “Not if I can help it.” She moved a checker and watched as he jumped and claimed her piece.
Shuffling in the hall drew her attention. She leaned back so she could see out the open door. Kevin stood in the hall, a gaily wrapped package tucked under one arm. He wore jeans and a chocolate-colored button-up shirt, the collar left open, sleeves rolled up to reveal tanned forearms. Heat flushed through her as their eyes met.
He nodded to her to join him.
“I’ll be right back, Trev. Don’t steal any pieces while I’m gone.”
She slipped out of the room and joined Kevin in the hall.
He flashed her a wide smile, unleashing the full force of his dimples. “Good morning.”
Her response to his greeting wasn’t as warm. “Kevin … you’re here.”
“I said I would be.”
Yes, but he’d broken the last promise he made her, so she wasn’t ready to trust him.
“So?” he asked, nodding toward Trevor’s room, eyebrows raised in question.
“I haven’t told him yet.”
His smile faltered a notch. “Dani, you promised.”
She waved her hand impatiently. “I know. There just didn’t seem to be a good time to bring it up this morning.”
He stared at her with exaggerated patience. “Would now work for you?”
She looked up and down the hallway, studied the clipboards on the counter at the nurse’s station, stared over his shoulder. She couldn’t think of any reason not to, and she couldn’t stall any longer. “I guess so. Can you wait a sec?”
He backed up to the wall beside Trevor’s door and leaned against it. “Be right here.”
Danielle trudged into the room, stomach unsettled at what she was about to do.
“Trevor,” she said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.
In her absence, he’d turned on the television and found a cartoon show. His eyes were glued to the characters on the screen in the corner of the room.
“Trev, we need to talk. Can we turn off the TV for a minute?”
“Aw, Mom.”
“I know, but this is important.” She reached for the controls and hit the power button.
With a little pout on his lips, he turned and met her eyes. “What?”
“There’s someone here who’d like to see you. Someone I think you’d like to meet.”
“Who?”
Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, and she wished that she’d taken time to plan what to say and rehearse a short speech for him. There was probably a right way and a wrong way to tell a child that his missing father had suddenly appeared and wanted to be part of his life. She didn’t want to foul up the momentous occasion and scar Trevor with a clumsy delivery. She glanced out in the hallway and saw Kevin tapping his foot. He didn’t look like he’d be willing to wait until she could consult Dr. Phil, so she’d have to do her best.
“Well,” she said, her throat going tight. “It’s your father.”
“I thought you said my father was dead.” The sweet
innocence in his face was salt in her wounds.
From the hallway, Kevin huffed with disgust and she knew he’d heard. The heat of shame flared in her gut.
“I hadn’t heard from him in so long that I was afraid he was,” she offered, trying to smooth things over. “But he found us, and he’d like to meet you. Do you feel up for a visitor?”
His face lit. “Sure.”
Danielle walked around to the end of the bed and waved Kevin inside. A nervous expression flickered across his features before he put on a smile and strolled forward.
“Trevor, this is Kevin Sutherland, your father.” Her voice was thick, her chest aching and tight. “Kevin, meet Trevor.”
Kevin stopped a few feet from the bed, smiling softly down at Trevor and waited for … something.
Danielle watched her son carefully, monitoring him for signs of a negative reaction. Trevor’s eyes traveled up and down the newcomer, studying him with the open curiosity of a child. “You’re my dad?”
“Yes.” Kevin swallowed hard, and Danielle realized he was fighting to control his emotions beneath his calm exterior.
“Where have you been?” Trevor asked. The honesty and innocence of a child—how deeply it could cut to the heart of a matter.
Kevin didn’t seem to mind. “Looking for you. I didn’t know where you lived. If I had, I’d have been there with you.”
Trevor’s lips pinched together in a frown. “I wish you could have come to my baseball games. I don’t have a team now that we moved, but if I get a new one, will you come?”
“I love baseball games.” Kevin’s smile widened. He stepped closer. “I brought you something.”
“A present?” Trevor reached for the package and Kevin delivered it into his eager hands.
In seconds, the wrapping paper fell away, revealing a toy gun that could shoot spongy missiles with suction cups on the ends of them.
“Thanks!” Trevor said, his eyes lighting up. He looked up at Kevin and smiled shyly. “I never had one of these before.”
Kevin laughed. “Then it’s time we got you armed and dangerous.”