“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.”
“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 subsi
ded 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?
Chapter Five
Ethan 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-fiv
e 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.
A Dad of His Own Page 6