by Lisa Mills
Tossing the mail on the coffee table, she stood. “I’m going to help Brandon in the kitchen.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Danielle slid out of the gown, pulled off the mask covering her face, dragging the hairnet with it, then dropped them all in the “used” bin in the service corridor. She opted to leave the shoe covers on, but tugged at the rubber gloves on her hands. They came off with a snap, and she tossed them into the trash. A weary sigh escaped her lips. She’d suited up four times already today, and they hadn’t eaten supper yet. She’d probably be doing the whole routine a couple more times.
Thinking she might rest while Trevor was napping, she let herself out of the transition area leading into Trevor’s room and returned to her side of the “suite” the hospital had given them. The setup included two rooms, one for Trevor with strict protocols that helped maintain a sterile environment. The other side, a small version of a hotel room, made it more comfortable for parents to stay close to their child during the long months of isolation. A window between the two spaces allowed the parent to see the child and vice versa at all times, easing anxiety and lessening feelings of separation.
She moved to the twin bed against one wall and was arranging the pillows when the squeak of shoes on linoleum alerted her to a visitor.
“How is he?” Kevin stood in the doorway looking handsome in his navy business suit, even with his shirt collar unbuttoned and necktie loosened so it hung at an odd angle. He’d been coming every day after work and spending his evenings with Trevor.
“Just fell asleep. He needs to rest a while. It was a rough day.”
Kevin walked to the window and peered through at his son. “Guess I’ll have to entertain myself for a while. And I was looking forward to getting beat at checkers.”
Danielle smiled. “Maybe he’ll feel up to it later.”
Kevin set his briefcase on the floor beside the wingback chair and shrugged out of his suit coat. “Hey, I have something for you.”
Danielle moved closer, curious.
He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and thumbed the bills to the side. Reaching in, he slid out a blue slip of paper—a check she realized—and handed it to her. “This is for you.”
She looked at it, saw her name on the recipient’s line, then scanned over to the amount. Her heart did a triple flip. She’d never seen a check for an amount this large.
“For me? Is this a joke?”
“No joke.” A little frown line formed between his eyebrows. He stared at her intently, as if waiting for her reaction.
She gripped the check a little tighter, ogling all the zeroes in the number he’d written. “Where did you get this kind of money?”
His face colored and he shifted his weight. “Well, my grandmother left me a small inheritance when she passed … and she left me her house too. I managed to get a job making six figures selling RVs, and I don’t have a mortgage or rent payments.” He ran his fingers over his short hair. “Good income, low expenses, makes it easy to save.”
She swallowed hard and held the check out to him. “I can’t accept this, Kevin. It’s too much.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “That’s just what I owe you, Dani.”
“What you owe me?”
“I spoke to a lawyer and had him calculate what I would’ve been paying in child support over the last seven-and-a-half years plus the other incidentals that are usually covered in that type of arrangement. That’s the number he came up with.” He flashed a sheepish smile and shrugged. “Sorry it’s a little late.”
She blinked a few times and reminded herself to breathe. The hand holding the check began to tremble as the implications set in. This little piece of paper could eliminate almost all Trevor’s medical debt and save her years of working herself to the brink of exhaustion to pay what she owed the hospitals.
“Why would you do this?” Why would he be so generous when she’d been so selfish? Why would he take care of her like this when she was trying so hard to push him away? She stared into his face trying to understand his motives. The look in his eyes made her stomach flutter.
“You two are my family. A man takes care of his own.” He lifted his hand and brushed a stray lock of hair off her cheek. When she didn’t move away from his touch, he trailed his fingers down her jaw until they rested under her chin. His gaze traveled over her features, the look on his face heating her blood. His attention came to rest on her lips, and her heart began to pound so hard and loud, she was certain the nurses would come running.
When he leaned toward her, she sucked in a sharp breath. “What are you doing?”
His eyes searched hers, asking, longing. She clenched her teeth and held herself rigid, fighting against the attraction she felt for him.
His hand slipped away from her chin, leaving her skin cold where he’d touched her. “For a moment there, you looked so much like you did back then. I guess … I got swept away by a memory.”
“Getting swept away was always our problem,” she said, her voice hard. She wouldn’t be swayed by his good looks and charm this time. That road held too many heartaches. “I learned from my mistakes.”
His eyes lost some of their warmth and the muscles in his jaw flexed. He took a step back, putting a respectable distance between them. “You’re right, Dani. It won’t happen again.”
“Good.” Then they were agreed. Nothing romantic was ever going to happen between them. That was what she wanted. So why did she feel like she was shriveling inside? She turned her back to him to hide the tears that stung her eyes. “If you’re planning to stay here with Trevor, I’m going to get some dinner.”
She grabbed her purse and slid the check into a side pocket as she left the room. The air in the hallway was cool on her face, soothing away the heat of her encounter. Kevin! He had a way of getting under her skin like no one else could.
She traveled down a few floors and headed for the cafeteria. Her stomach was still swirling when she picked up a bowl of mixed fruit and a turkey sandwich. A table in the back corner promised her the privacy she wanted at the moment. She sat with her back to the room, further hiding from prying eyes. Lost in her thoughts, the taste of the food barely registered, and she finished quickly. Piling her utensils and dishes onto her tray, she carried it to the conveyor belt that ferried the dirty dishes to the dishwasher.
Heading for the door, she glanced up and saw Kevin approaching. “Is Trevor okay?”
He nodded. “Still sleeping. The nurse is with him. How was your dinner?”
She shrugged. “The food here is okay, but honestly, I’d kill for an order of Nang’s Cashew Chicken right now.”
Kevin nodded. “That’s good stuff.”
Everyone who lived in Northwood knew about Nang’s. Best Chinese in the area. She turned toward the door and started for the elevators.
“Listen, Dani, could we talk for a few minutes … about Trevor?”
“Okay.” A knot of dread curled around in her stomach. He sure was keen on talking, but it never ended well for her. She passed the elevators and angled toward the courtyard doors at the far end of the lobby. “It should be quiet out here.”
Kevin followed her to a bench beneath a tall maple and they sat. She rested her purse on her lap and clutched the straps tightly in her hands. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “I know that it’s a long way off at this point, but do you think when Trevor gets out of the hospital, I could take him places once in a while … like sporting events or to the arcade or the movies? I’d like to spend some time with him outside the house, and I thought he might like that too. It would help us get to know each other better.”
Her heart began to pound out a ferocious rhythm in her ears. “You want to take him places?”
“Yeah, it would be fun. Or if the doctors don’t want him out in public, he could just come to my house and stay the night sometimes.”
>
“Stay the night. With you.” Pressure built in her chest, choking off her air and stabbing into her ribs.
Kevin shrugged. “You know, like visitation. Most parents who live apart share custody of their kids. I’d like to work out a schedule so that I can spend some time with him without being in your way.”
Shared custody. Dreadful words that she never wanted to hear in her lifetime. Trevor was her world, and without him she’d shrivel up and die. Even sharing him would kill her. Panic sliced through her. She’d known this would happen, known it from the day she opened the door and found Kevin standing on her parents’ front porch. In asking him to help her save Trevor’s life, she knew she would get hurt. Now the day of reckoning had come, and what recourse did she have? She scrambled for a reason to deny him.
“If you want, we can work up an agreement with a lawyer. I’ve already arranged to have a monthly child support payment mailed to you, and if you need anything else, you just have to ask. I want to help any way I can.”
“Child support?” she asked. “Do you think I want your money, Kevin?”
His body stilled, face going wary. “No. It’s the right thing to do. I’m his father. I have a responsibility to help support and care for him. Paying child support is part of that. Spending time with him is another.”
Digging into her purse, she yanked out the check. “Is that what this is all about?” She crumbled it in her fist and shook it at him. “You think you just hand me a check, then walk off with my son? You think your money gives you the right to take him away from me?”
He shook his head from side to side, eyes widened in surprise. “No! That’s not it at all. I don’t want to take—”
“You inconceivable jerk!” She jumped to her feet and turned on him. “Get away from me! And stay away from my son, you hear? We did just fine without you for eight years, and we don’t need you now.”
He rose, reaching toward her. “Dani, wait! I think you misun—”
“No!” She held up one shaking finger in warning to him. “You aren’t taking him away from me. He’s mine! You left us, Kevin, and you didn’t come back. Do you know what happened to me? What I had to do to keep him? How we lived?” She pressed a hand to her chest to soothe the ragged wounds inside. “You don’t have any right to him, and I won’t let you take him from me.”
His face twisted into a grimace of pain. “Dani, please listen.”
Taking the check in both hands, she ripped it in two and threw it at him. “And you can keep your money. I don’t want your bribes.”
She turned and tried to leave. He grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Dani—”
She jerked away from him so hard that she stumbled and almost fell. “Don’t you touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again,” she shouted, chest heaving. “And don’t you come back here. If I see you here again, I’ll have a restraining order taken out against you, do you hear me? I mean it. I gave you one chance and you blew it. Now leave us alone.”
His hands went to his hips and he stared at her, his expression disbelieving.
She whirled and ran from him, back to the hospital, back to Trevor and safety. At the doors, she paused and glanced back at him. He sat on the bench, elbows on his knees, his face in his hands, shoulders slumped in defeat.
~ ~ ~
“I need to check on my other patient,” the nurse said, cleaning up the supplies she’d used to give Trevor his latest dose of medicine. “I’ll be back in a little while. Press the call button if you need me sooner.” She slipped out the door.
“Thanks.” Sitting in the chair beside Trevor’s bed, Danielle shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. Trevor was watching a video on the television, calm for the moment. But he’d had a chemo treatment earlier. The nausea would hit soon. She intended to take advantage of the restful moment while she could. She closed her eyes, letting her body relax.
Trevor stirred, rustling his bedcovers. “Mommy,” he whimpered. “I feel funny.”
Her eyes blinked open and focused on her son. His hand was pressed to his throat, and he swallowed convulsively.
“Are you gonna be sick?” she asked, pushing out of the chair and scanning the room for the little basin they used for these purposes.
“Hard … to … breathe,” he gasped. The next breath he drew sounded raspy and thin.
Fire shot down her arms and legs. She leaned across the bed and stabbed the call button.
Trevor’s eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp.
She jabbed the button again, sobs welling up in her throat. “Someone answer!”
“Can I help you?” The calm voice of an attendant asked through the little speaker.
“He can’t breathe,” she shrieked. “He’s not breathing!”
“We’ll be right there. Stay calm.”
Stay calm? Seriously? She turned back to Trevor, frustrated by her inability to do anything to help him. Tears burned behind her eyes. Commotion in the service corridor alerted her that someone had arrived, but they had to suit up before they could come in.
“Hurry!” she shouted. “He’s turning blue.”
A nurse came flying through the door, pulling on rubber gloves as she walked. “What is it?”
“He can’t breathe.” Danielle sobbed, rubbing his chest.
The nurse took one look at him with his lips an odd shade of purple and called for more help.
A doctor and two more nurses tumbled into the room, dragging out machines she didn’t recognize, shouting orders, and working over Trevor in a frantic rush.
A nurse grabbed her by the shoulders and hustled her out of the way. “Give us room to work.”
Danielle refused to stay back, desperate to touch him. She moved closer and grabbed his hand, willing him to fight. She watched them work, tears soaking her cheeks.
“Nurse! Check his chart. What’s the last medication he got?”
One of the women clicked a few buttons on the computer keyboard and read the name of a medication from the records. “It was his first dose. The other wasn’t curbing his nausea, so we had orders to try a new one.”
The doctor swore. “Allergic reaction! Has to be. He needs Benadryl, now!”
A nurse bolted from the room and was back in seconds, shoving a syringe into Trevor’s PICC line. At the head of the bed, the doctor was trying to feed a tube down Trevor’s throat.
“Will he be okay?” Danielle demanded.
He ignored the question.
Danielle’s head began to swim, and her stomach threatened to empty itself, but she refused to let go. “Trev? Honey, can you hear me?”
“His blood oxygen is still falling.”
Across the room, a metal tray crashed to the floor, scattering supplies across the tiles. “I need a smaller tube,” the doctor shouted at one of the nurses. “Hurry up or we’ll lose him!”
Lose him? Panic knifed into her lungs. No, she couldn’t lose him!
Darkness, like a steel-clawed monster, thrashed around behind her ribs, shredding her from the inside. She could feel its determination. It wanted to take from her everything she held dear. It had stolen her childhood, her family, her love. Now it wanted her son. It was stealing him away while she stood there and watched. Her head began to buzz. Her body went numb. Darkness crowded into the sides of her vision.
“Trevor! Breathe! Please,” she begged. When he didn’t move, a panicked scream built up her throat. She grabbed the doctor’s arm. “Do something!”
He shook off her grip with an angry jerk of his arm. “Get her out of the way!” he ordered, glaring at the nurses.
Nurses took her by the arms, pulling her hands away from her child, and forcing her back. “I can’t lose him,” she cried.
“Then you have to let us do our job.” They guided her past the foot of the bed to the viewing window that divided Trevor’s side of the room from hers. One of the nurses lingered at her side, meeting her eyes for a brief moment. “The best thing you can do for your little b
oy right now is pray.”
Pray. Once upon a childhood, praying had come as naturally as breathing to her. But then her trust was shattered beyond repair. Or so she’d thought. A longing to feel anchored in the midst of life’s storms welled up in her, to feel that peace and comfort that once permeated her life. Pray. Could she? After all these years, could she revive her faith? It had been so long and she didn’t know if she still believed … if enough faith had survived to make any difference.
The glass felt cold against her shoulders as she stood there, sobbing and shaking, watching as death wrapped its gnarled hand around Trevor’s throat and threatened to rip him from this world. Desperation wrenched at her heart and flayed open her soul. If she lost him …. The thought made her feel as if she were coming apart on the inside. She leaned her head back against the glass, gasping for air, fighting a dizzying panic.
Her eyes fell on the painting hanging above Trevor’s bed. A gentle shepherd sat upon a rock in a lush meadow, tending a wounded, bleeding lamb. His eyes radiated compassion and concern as He looked down at the tiny, helpless creature in His arms. In His hands, He held ointment and bandages, all that was needed to mend the wounds.
She stared at the picture, trying to reconcile the compassionate, gentle man in the painting with the image she held of God in her mind.
“You’re not alone … He wants to help you through this … give him a chance, Dani-girl. He won’t let you down.” Janna’s words, saturated with her faith, flickered through Danielle’s mind. She’d refused to trust Him. She’d clung to doubt and fear and pain, holding it between her and God like a shield, afraid He would abuse her, punish her for making mistakes, mistreat her for being human with flaws and imperfections. Like her father had.
But the loving shepherd on the hillside looked nothing like the God she’d imagined. No angry eyes. No cruel sneer on his face. No rod of punishment in his hand. He looked more like the God Brandon described—patient, loving, kind.
Her gaze traveled down the wall to the bed. Trevor lay so still, his body frail and broken. Tiny and wounded, like the lamb. He needed a shepherd to aid him, one who could perform a miracle.