by Lisa Mills
Together, they opened the box and loaded the ammo into the gun’s chamber. The kit included a target which Kevin hung on the wall in front of Trevor’s bed, Trevor looking on with a grin.
“You ready for some target practice, buddy? Let’s see your aim.”
Trevor raised the orange plastic gun and fired a rapid volley of ammo. More than half hit the target and stuck there, protruding from the wall. Trevor’s laughter filled the room with music.
Kevin pumped his fist in the air, grinning from ear to ear. “Awesome, Trev!” Laughing, he retrieved the darts, then they reloaded and fired them off again.
Danielle stood quietly in the corner of the room, watching them interact, offering Trevor an occasional smile when he looked to her for reassurance. Seeing them together, the resemblance between them was striking. The lines of their profiles, the color of their eyes, the curve of their ears, even Trevor’s hands were smaller versions of Kevin’s. She’d always thought of Trevor as hers—all hers. It hurt to acknowledge that Trevor was part Kevin’s too. She didn’t want to share him.
They finished loading and Kevin stepped back so Trevor could aim. Firing off the next round, all six darts stuck to the target, a few close to the bull’s eye. Trevor squealed with delight, holding up his hand and giving Kevin a high five. “This is fun, Dad!”
Dad. Hearing the word on his lips, a twinge of jealousy and more than a little insecurity swept in like a plague. Suddenly, the air in the room was too warm and close for her.
“I think I’ll go warn the nurses they need to wear bullet proof vests in here.” She flashed Trevor a grin, but her voice must have revealed some of the distress she was feeling because Kevin gave her a questioning look as she passed him and headed out into the hall.
She walked hard and fast, channeling her raging fear into her muscles and letting it fuel her legs. They carried her into the elevator, and when the doors opened she was on the first floor. Her feet knew the way to the courtyard by heart, and soon she was outside, a warm breeze slithering across her skin. She yanked her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Janna’s number.
“Hello?”
“Janna, it’s me.” The corners of her eyes began to sting. Spotting a bench in a quiet corner of the courtyard, she headed that direction.
“What is it? Is Trevor okay?”
She flopped onto the bench and sniffed. “Yes, but I’m not.”
“Okay. Spill it.”
“I introduced Kevin and Trevor today.”
“His father? You finally talked to him?”
Danielle rubbed a tear off her cheek and smoothed her hair off her face. “Not exactly. Trevor got an infection in his PICC line and Kevin was there to drive us to the hospital. He cares about Trevor. I could see that much. And Trev does have cancer so there’s a chance that—” Her throat closed up, choking off the words.
“I think I understand. You want to make the most of the time he has left, however short or long that may be?”
“Yep. It didn’t seem fair to keep them apart. Trevor has asked about his father before. And Kevin asks about Trevor every chance he gets. They both wanted it.”
“So you introduced them. How did that go?”
“Great. Fabulous,” she huffed. “Kevin showed up with a present being mister-fun-guy and won Trevor over in a matter of minutes. They’re up there having a blast, and Trevor is already calling him Dad.”
Janna was quiet for a moment, maybe trying to read Danielle’s mood. “You did the right thing, hon. Really.”
Danielle drew a shuddering breath and lowered her face into her hand. “Then why am I so scared?”
“Scared? What are you afraid of?”
“What if he likes Kevin better than me? What if he wants to live with his father when he’s recovered? What if I lose him to Kevin?”
Janna growled. “Now you listen to me, Danielle Jordan. You’re the best mother a boy could ask for. I’ve been your friend for four years, and I have watched you with him. A child couldn’t find a more patient, loving, generous parent than you. Trevor is a secure, well-adjusted child because you’ve done such a wonderful job raising him.”
Tears streamed down Danielle’s cheeks. She tilted her head back and stared at the blue sky overhead as Janna’s words settled like a bandage over the hurting places in her soul.
“Danielle, you’re not going to lose Trevor. That boy loves you with his whole heart. While he may find a corner in his heart for his father, you will always be the center of his world. You know that, don’t you?”
“You’re right. I know it in my head. But my emotions are such a mess right now. Every day there’s some new crisis to deal with. I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a tornado, being hit from every side. I don’t know how much longer I can endure this.”
“Oh, Dani-girl.” Janna’s voice broke as if she was crying too now. “I can tell you need a hug, and I’m so far away.”
“A hug would be nice.” Danielle used her sleeve to dry her tears. “It’s been lonely up here.”
“Have you made any friends?”
“Haven’t had time, really. Trevor got this infection right after we talked last. I’m staying at the hospital again.”
“How are things going with your parents?”
Danielle crossed her foot over her knee and fiddled with her shoelace as she debated how to answer. “My mom has been a big help with Trevor. We’re getting along pretty well. With Dad … some of the old conflicts have resurfaced. He’s always been hard to get along with.”
“What do you mean?”
Danielle cringed. This was exactly the kind of conversation she’d tried to avoid her whole life, but this was Janna. “He’s just grumpy a lot of the time … always been difficult to please.”
Janna responded with a simple “Hmm.”
“But I’m hardly home so it’s no big deal. Hopefully the doctors will locate a donor soon and we’ll be on the road to recovery. I can work more hours and afford my own place again.”
“Cory prays for a donor every night when we say our bedtime prayers. We’re thinking about you guys.”
“Thanks, Janna, for always being there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Janna laughed, and the sound seemed to make the air around Danielle sparkle a little brighter. “I hope you never find out. You’re stuck with me. I’ll call you next week, okay?”
“Bye.” Danielle closed her phone and returned it to her pocket. She felt like a dump-truck load of dirt had been lifted off her chest. How did talking to Janna always make her feel so much better? Janna was like a warm, fuzzy blanket, and she wrapped herself around Danielle and enveloped her in a kind of peace that she couldn’t seem to find elsewhere. Janna’s gift was probably the reason they’d become friends in the first place. Danielle found it hard to trust anyone enough to let them close to her, but Janna’s warmth and love made her irresistible.
Love. That was the difference. Janna loved people, and that love bubbled out of her and spilled onto those she touched. What Danielle didn’t understand is where all that love came from.
~ ~ ~
“Good news!” Doctor Franklin, the intern in charge of Trevor’s care, breezed into the room during the afternoon of the eighth day of Trevor’s hospital stay. He beamed a wide smile at Danielle, then Kevin. “Got a minute?”
He nodded toward the hallway.
“Sure,” Danielle answered, rising from her chair.
Kevin put down the crayon he was using to help Trevor color a picture in his coloring book. “We’ll be right back, Trev. Okay?”
Trevor nodded at his father, smiled at the doctor, then bent over his work again.
Danielle patted Trevor on the leg as she passed his bed. Intent on his artwork, he didn’t look up. She paused, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment, but it didn’t come. A cold hard knot formed in her chest. Janna had assured her she’d always be central in his life, but day by day, she felt her foothold slipping as Kevin w
on Trevor’s affections with games and toys and as much undivided attention as he could shower on the boy. Heaviness swirling around her, she trudged out of the room behind the men.
The doctor led them to a consultation room and closed the door. “I have lab results to report. First of all, Trevor’s infection seems to be cleared up, and his white cell counts are at a level where we feel comfortable releasing him to your care.”
“We can go home?” she asked.
“I have his discharge papers ready. You can sign them in a little bit.”
Danielle breathed a sigh of relief. She couldn’t wait to sleep in her own bed again, and shower whenever she wanted. And being at home she could limit Kevin’s access to Trevor, maybe slow things down a little. “Thank you.”
“You might want to wait on the thanks. We’d like to send him home for five or six days. Then he’ll have to be admitted again.”
The light feeling in her heart evaporated. “Admitted again?”
“For what reason?” Kevin asked at the same time.
The doctor’s smile widened. “Kevin’s a match. He can serve as a donor for Trevor’s transplant.”
Danielle stared at the doctor, seeing her reflection in the lenses of his glasses. She wasn’t smiling. She should be happy, grateful that her son had the donor he needed. But her chest felt cold and numb.
The doctor stood there smiling, as if waiting for some kind of reaction.
Danielle turned her attention to the floor. Kevin had trumped her yet again. Trevor would see him as a hero. She crossed her arms and hugged herself tight.
“This is great!”
She jumped at the volume of Kevin’s exclamation.
Kevin turned to her, grinning, and pulled her into a hug. “Dani, isn’t this great?”
“Sure. It’s great.” She held herself stiffly and pushed away the moment he loosened his grip.
He stared down at her, a puzzled frown replacing his smile. Guilt churned in her stomach. Her attitude was abominable, but she didn’t care. She turned her shoulder to him, then gave the doctor a hurry-up look.
The doctor glanced between them, his expression curious. When neither offered an explanation, he shrugged and directed his comments toward Kevin. “Can you come to my office in fifteen minutes? I’d like to explain the procedure in more detail and give you some pamphlets from the National Marrow Donor Program. There are medications you will need to take for several days, and then we’ll extract the blood cells that we need. I want to make sure you understand the process and answer any questions you may have.”
Kevin glanced at his watch. “Sure, I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful.” He turned to Danielle. “I’ll send a nurse to get your signature on the release papers and go over home-care procedures.”
With a nod, she spun on her heel and hurried out the door. She almost made it back to Trevor’s room before Kevin caught up with her.
“Dani! Wait up.” When she didn’t slow, he grabbed her sleeve. “Dani, look at me.”
Her tennis shoes squeaked against the linoleum as she skidded to a halt. He came around to stand in front of her. “What’s going on?”
She shrugged. “What do you mean? I’m going back to Trevor’s room to give him the good news.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. I want to know what’s going through your head. The doctor just told us our son has a donor. There’s a good chance this procedure will save his life. Shouldn’t you be a little happier about it?”
“I’m very happy. Really. This is wonderful news.” She tried to step around him, but he put out his hand and blocked her path.
“But?”
She glared at his hand, then him. “But nothing.”
His brown eyes widened. “Are you mad at me?”
“Why would I be mad at you?” she snapped. “You’re a hero. Kevin sweeps in and saves the day.” She shoved his arm out of the way and started walking.
He chased after her, matching her pace. “Dani, I don’t understand.”
She turned to face him, spitting her words through gritted teeth. “No, you wouldn’t, because you haven’t been here for the last eight years. You got to skip all the down-and-dirty stuff—diapers, colic, chicken pox, and bearing all the responsibility of parenting alone. Then you show up out of the blue and dazzle the kid with toys and games, thrill the doctors, and pat yourself on the back for a job well done.” She threw her hands in the air. “How am I supposed to compete with that?”
His mouth fell open with a quick intake of air. “You think I’m trying to compete with you?”
Her face burned. She’d said too much. “Just forget it, Kevin. It’s not important. Trevor has his donor. That’s all that matters.” She tried to smooth out her features so her misery wasn’t so plainly written there.
He held his hands out in front of him like he was trying to bookend his thoughts. “You asked me to get tested, so I did. I waited to meet him until you extended an invitation. I have followed every instruction you’ve given me to the letter. I thought I was playing by your rules. I’m certainly not trying to displace you.”
“Aren’t you? You’re here every night. The minute you walk in the door, Trevor completely forgets about me.”
“You’re here all day with him. Evenings are the only time I can come. I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“Well, I do.”
He stared down at her, bewilderment twisting his handsome features.
She stared back, radiating the animosity that had been building in her all week.
The light blinked out of his eyes, and his shoulders fell. He looked away, focusing on the wall behind her. When he spoke the words were rife with sadness. “I didn’t know. I thought … well, I thought maybe it wasn’t just about Trevor. I thought maybe you wanted me around too.”
“I stopped wanting you around the day I realized I’d been abandoned and had to deal with a baby on my own.”
“We really need to talk,” he said, his voice pleading. “If you’d just let me explain.”
She yanked her cell phone from her pocket and glanced at the time. “Don’t you have an appointment you need to go to?”
He looked at his watch and growled. “This isn’t over, Danielle.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Trevor’s laughter rang out across the yard, putting a smile on Danielle’s face as she stood at the kitchen sink, washing a few pots and pans. She peered out the window and watched him chase after the flying disk he and Kevin were tossing around. Sunlight streamed through the treetops and splashed across the lawn. The weatherman had ordered up an ideal day—seventy-five degrees and sunny—and mother nature delivered. They had perfect weather for the cookout Danielle and her mother had planned in Trevor’s honor, a day to make good memories they could all think about during the next three months.
She only had one concern about the day. Trevor had insisted on inviting his father. She would have preferred to avoid the awkwardness that had developed between her and Kevin since their talk at the hospital, but Trevor seemed happy to have someone to keep him entertained while she and her parents set up the picnic and prepared the food. Maybe Kevin would leave early.
“How’s it coming?” Danielle’s mother breezed through the kitchen, a picnic cloth draped over one arm and a stack of red plates and cups balancing in her hands.
“Almost done. I think we can start the chicken.”
“I’ll have William turn on the grill.” She smiled and headed for the back door.
Danielle dunked her hands into the water and scrubbed a mixing bowl sticky with cupcake batter. After rinsing it and setting it in the dish drainer, she fished around in the bottom of the sink for silverware and spatulas.
Her father stepped through the back door and headed for the refrigerator. “I’m grilling the meat.”
“Great. Thanks.”
He removed a tray of chicken breasts from the refrigerator then fished through a drawer full of utensils until he pulled o
ut a set of metal tongs. “Hand me that barbeque sauce, Danielle.”
She glanced around and spotted the sauce on the far side of the dish drainer. Shaking the dishwater off her hands, Danielle grabbed the glass bottle and twirled around to hand it to him. Her wet fingers lost their grip. It slid from her hands and crashed to the floor. She jumped back as shards of glass and barbeque sauce splattered everywhere.
Her father’s eyes went round and his lips pulled back in a snarl. “You stupid fool!” His eyes burned into her like hot pokers. “What is wrong with you?”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll clean it up.” She glanced out the open window as she grabbed a roll of paper towels, hoping Trevor couldn’t hear them.
His volume increased. “Clean it up? What good will that do now? You’ve ruined the meal, you worthless idiot! Now what are we going to eat?” He threw the platter of chicken on the stovetop with a loud crash. The meat flopped around like passengers in a car wreck and landed in disarray.
She looked from the meat to her father. His face had heated to a brilliant red, and he shook with fury.
“I’ll run to the store and get more sauce.” She spoke quietly. Meekly. If she could just calm him down—
The back door burst open and Trevor darted inside, his face pinched tight. “My mom is not an idiot!” he yelled, running up to his grandfather. “It’s not nice to call names. Take it back and say you’re sorry!”
Danielle’s jaw went slack, shocked by her son’s vehement defense.
“Your mother is a fool,” her father growled back at Trevor, his face going purple.
Trevor stomped his foot. “She is not! Take it back.”
Her father’s nostrils flared, and that look—the one of mindless rage that haunted her nightmares and stalked her waking memories—flashed through his eyes.
“Trevor, no!” She lunged for her son, but it was too late.
Her father’s arm shot up, and the back of his hand connected soundly with Trevor’s face. His head whipped around, carrying his thin body with it. He flew across the room like a rag doll and slammed into a cupboard door, then slumped to the floor in a heap.
Pain stored up during a childhood of violence exploded inside her, shooting through her arms and legs like a detonation. Fury launched her across the room, and with a blood-curdling scream, she was on her father, swinging, kicking, and scratching for all she was worth. The world around her disappeared until all she knew was blood-red rage and the relief she felt with every blow she struck.