His Temptation, Her Secret

by Barbara Dunlop

  The hospital was spick-and-span. But it was also showing its age, with noisy heaters, worn linoleum and lights that flickered and buzzed overhead. The privacy curtains were a faded yellow, and the table trays squeaked when they were wheeled to a new position.

  “Hi, Eli,” TJ said.

  Eli looked past Sage to meet TJ’s eyes. He was clearly puzzled by TJ’s continued presence at his bedside. TJ didn’t blame the kid. It likely didn’t make much sense to Eli for a stranger to show up and keep hanging around while he recovered.

  Sage had introduced TJ as an old friend from high school. TJ was dying to tell Eli the truth. But he respected Sage’s request to wait until Eli was stronger.

  “Hi,” Eli answered shortly, looking annoyed.

  “How are you feeling?” Sage asked, straightening.

  Eli shrugged.

  “Are you hungry?” Sage asked.

  “Not really.” Eli looked back down at the comic book.

  “You need to build up your strength.” She smoothed his slightly ragged hair.

  “I’ll try,” he said.

  “Are you frustrated by the slow progress?” TJ asked.

  Sage didn’t take the single seat beside the bed, and he wasn’t about to sit down and let her stand, so the black vinyl chair was just in the way. TJ maneuvered around it.

  Eli shifted to watch his progress. “Are you dating my mom?”

  “What?” Sage gasped. “What makes you ask that?”

  “No,” TJ answered. “I’m not dating your mom. We’re old friends.”

  Sage sat down in the chair and put her hand on Eli’s shoulder. “There’s something you should know, honey.”

  TJ stopped breathing.

  Eli looked at Sage. “What?”

  “TJ donated the bone marrow for your transplant.”

  TJ let out his breath. He was disappointed, of course. But it had seemed like an abrupt way to tell Eli TJ was his father. It was better that they wait. This was enough.

  Eli’s eyes opened a little wider. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.” Sage took his hand and gave it a kiss. “TJ was your donor.”

  Eli looked embarrassed. His gaze focused tentatively on TJ’s.

  “I was more than happy to help,” TJ assured him.

  Eli’s slim shoulders squared, and he seemed to sit up a little straighter. “Thank you, sir.”

  TJ’s heart swelled with pride. “I’m just glad you’re getting better.”

  Eli’s expression faltered. “Am I?”

  “Of course you are,” Sage said, concern clear in her tone.

  “I don’t feel better.”

  “You’re sitting up.”

  Eli glanced around the bed, as if the significance of sitting up hadn’t occurred to him.

  “You couldn’t sit up yesterday,” Sage said.

  “I couldn’t, could I?”

  “You are getting better,” she told him firmly.

  “It’s only a matter of time,” TJ said.

  Eli gave a ghost of a smile. “I thought they were lying.”

  “Who?” Sage asked.

  “Dr. Stannis. The nurses. They keep saying these things take time, and I should relax and let my body heal.”

  “They’re right.”

  “That’s what they said to Joey.” Eli’s eyes went glassy with unshed tears. “They told him that right up to when he died.”

  TJ felt like he’d been sucker punched.

  A stricken expression on her face, Sage rose and drew Eli into her arms. “Oh, sweetheart.”

  “It would be okay,” Eli said. “I mean, I’d deal with it if it happened.”

  “The transplant was a success,” Sage said with firm conviction.

  “You don’t have to deal with it,” TJ said. Then he rethought his words.

  Eli had plenty to deal with for the next few months.

  “It’s going to be tough,” TJ told his son. “You’ll need to be strong. But you are most definitely getting better.”

  “I can read again,” Eli said. “At least a little bit without my head feeling like a baseball hit it.”

  “I hear you play baseball,” TJ said, perching on the corner of the bed.

  “I used to,” Eli said.

  “That’s something to look forward to.”

  “Over the long-term,” Sage said.

  TJ couldn’t tell if it was a rebuke or if she was just carrying on with the conversation.

  “For now,” she continued, “maybe we can look forward to some Jell-O?”

  Eli thought about it for a moment. “I can try.”

  “Good for you.”

  TJ found himself smiling at the simple accomplishment. “Is there anything you feel like?” he asked Eli. “Anything at all?”

  Eli looked to his mom as if seeking permission. “Could I have a chocolate milkshake?”

  “I can run out and pick one up,” TJ offered.

  “Yes.” Sage surreptitiously swiped her hand across her cheeks. “Yes, darling. You can have as many chocolate milkshakes as you want.”

  “Finally,” Eli said with a small smile. “Something good in the hospital.”

  TJ couldn’t believe his son was making a joke. In a hospital bed, weak and frightened, and fighting for his life, he was making a joke. His kid had mettle. Again, pride rose in his chest.

  He left the room and took the elevator to the main lobby. There was a fast-food restaurant down the block that served milkshakes. But Eli deserved better than any old milkshake. TJ wanted his first gift to his son to be at least a little bit special.

  So he drove to a gourmet ice-cream shop ten minutes away and waited while they made a custom order.

  When TJ got back, Eli was semi-reclined in his bed. His eyes were closed, and he was listening to Sage read a story. She was sitting between Eli’s bed and the bed of the little girl with the broken leg.

  The girl looked to have other injuries too, TJ realized. One of her arms was bandaged, and she had a brace on her other leg.

  She looked shyly at the milkshake, and TJ felt like the biggest heel in the world.

  Sage stopped reading.

  TJ set the milkshake on Eli’s table.

  “Is there something you’d like?” he asked the girl, moving closer.

  “Heidi, this is my friend TJ,” Sage said to the girl.

  “Hi, Heidi.” He offered her a smile. “I should have asked you before. What would you like to eat? As long as it’s okay with the nurses, I can bring you anything.”

  She hesitated.

  “Go ahead,” Sage told her. “He’s rich. He can afford something great.”

  TJ was taken aback by Sage’s description of him. It was true, but it was an odd thing to tell a child.

  “Pizza?” she asked shyly.

  “Absolutely,” TJ answered. “What kind do you like?”

  “Hawaiian,” she said. “And...” She bit her bottom lip.

  “What else?” he asked. “Do you want a soda?”

  “Can I have extra cheese?”

  “Extra cheese it is.” Out of the corner of his eye, TJ saw Eli lift the milkshake to his lips.

  Heidi’s blue eyes lit up with simple joy.

  “This is really good,” Eli said.

  “Fantastic,” TJ said to Eli. He hadn’t felt this good about a gift in years.

  “I can get you a milkshake, too,” he said to Heidi.

  Instead of answering, she looked to Sage with amazement.

  “Chocolate or vanilla?” Sage asked her. “Or maybe strawberry or caramel?”

  “Caramel,” Heidi said, sounding breathless.

  “What about you?” TJ asked Sage, not about to mess this up a second time. “Pizza and milkshakes all around?”

 
Sage gave him a grin, and he swore he could feel her joy seep into his very pores.

  “You bet,” she said. “Surprise me.”

  “I’m on it.” He gave them all a mock salute and walked out of the hospital room feeling ridiculously like a superhero.

  * * *

  After the pizza and milkshakes, Sage read aloud until both Eli and Heidi were sleeping. Then she said good-night to the nurse before she and TJ walked to the lobby. She was tired, but she was also relieved. Eli was showing definite signs of improvement. He’d finished his entire milkshake and even had a couple bites of pizza.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” TJ said as they approached the bank of glass doors.

  “I know you will.”

  They were going to have to work this out somehow. But for now, the best she could do was one day at a time.

  “Where’s your car?” he asked, stopping as she turned left on the sidewalk.

  The parking lot was to the right.

  “I’m taking the bus.”

  He closed the gap between them. “Why would you do that?”

  She didn’t want to tell him. But she didn’t want to make a big deal about it either.

  She kept her tone blasé, matter-of-fact. “I don’t have a car.”

  He blinked. “Who doesn’t have a car?”

  “Me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t.”

  “How do you get to work?”

  She could hear the diesel engine and the air brakes of a bus coming up the hill. She pointed to it.

  “That’s crazy,” he said.

  She didn’t like it much, but she’d sold her car a month ago when they’d started doing tests on Eli. Their meager insurance policy didn’t begin to cover all the costs.

  “You need a car,” he said with authority.

  “I had a car.”

  “Did you crash it?”

  “No, I didn’t crash it. I sold it.”

  “Why would you—” He stopped, and his brows rose. “The medical bills.”

  “Yes, the medical bills.”

  There was no point in pretending. She was a single mother with a low-paying job and a sick child. Of all the things she had going for her in life, money wasn’t one of them.

  “As of this second,” TJ said, “there are no medical bills. You have no medical bills.”

  “You can’t—”

  “I can, and I am. How much have you paid so far?”

  “None of your business.”

  “You want me to guess?”

  “No, I don’t want you to guess.” It was her pride arguing with him. There was no practical purpose for insisting on footing the bill herself. From everything she knew, he had money to burn.

  “I’ll drive you home.”

  “I have a bus pass.”

  “It’s nearly eleven. You’re not getting on the bus.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m a functioning adult, TJ. I don’t need you or anyone else to take care of me. I’ve been on this bus dozens of times at night. And I don’t need your permission to do it again.”

  “I’m offering you a simple favor.”

  “You’re...” She paused. She was exhausted, and it was twenty minutes until the Number Seven bus arrived. She had to transfer at the downtown station, which would mean an additional fifteen-minute wait before she boarded the final bus. She was being a fool to turn him down.

  She closed her eyes for a second. “Okay. Thank you. That will be quicker.”

  “Are you always this stubborn?”

  She gave him a glare.

  “I mean good. My car is this way.” He pointed to the south lot.

  “I’m used to being self-reliant,” she said, although she didn’t owe him an explanation.

  “Your life has changed,” he said.

  “So has yours.”

  He used his remote to unlock the doors to a low-slung red sports car.

  “Drastically,” she added, contrasting it to the fifteen-year-old minivan she’d recently sold.

  He opened the passenger door and stood waiting for her to get in. “We’re in this together, Sage.”

  She didn’t like his phrasing. “We have a common interest.”

  “We have a child together.”

  She didn’t have another response, so she got into the car.

  The seats were smooth leather, cool and comfortable, cradling her body, filling the car with a subtle earthy scent. The navigation screen and dashboard made her think of a space shuttle. The seat belt came out smoothly, clipping effortlessly together.

  TJ swung into the driver’s seat.

  “Where to?” he asked, pressing the start button.

  “North on Fairton Road.”

  “You live downtown?”

  “It’s close to work.”

  Her rented basement suite was in an older part of the city. Gentrification was taking place near the water, but it hadn’t yet made it to Fir Street. That kept rent low, for which she was grateful. But the nearby development was also pushing trouble closer and closer to her block.

  TJ paid the parking charges and exited the lot.

  It was a short drive to the highway, and there their speed increased.

  The ride was smooth, and the sports car hugged the road. It was like floating on a cushion of air. It was so much better than the bus. She leaned her head back against the soft headrest and watched the strobe of streetlights above.

  Too soon, they came to her exit.

  She directed him to her neighborhood and pointed out the right house.

  He pulled to the curb, setting the brake and shutting off the engine. He stared through the windshield. “Who are those guys?”

  As she unbuckled her seat belt, Sage took in a group of teens and young adults in front of the corner market. There were six of them, scruffy-looking, all male. A couple of them were smoking, another couple were showing an interest in TJ’s car.

  “They look worse than they are.” Sage had never been bothered by anyone.

  “Are there a lot of drugs around here?”

  “How would I know?”

  He gave her a frown.

  “No more and no less than in other parts of the city. I don’t pay that much attention.”

  She was used to the neighborhood. She saw it every day. Sure, sometimes litter collected in the gutters. And the lawns weren’t exactly fine-trimmed. Some of them were barely lawns. But the MacAfees next door were a lovely retired couple, and Sage’s landlord, Hank Taylor, owned the bakery two blocks down. He was a hardworking, fiftysomething man who looked out for her and Eli.

  TJ opened his door and got out, staring levelly at the group of boys.

  Sage followed and got out her side.

  “Ignore them,” she told TJ.

  “They’re trying to decide if they can intimidate me.”

  “If you don’t bother them, they won’t bother you.”

  “I don’t want them to bother my car.”

  “Don’t be paranoid.” She started across the sidewalk for the worn stepping stones that led to the basement entrance.

  “How long have you lived here?” he asked, falling into step.

  “Since Eli was two.”

  “Has it always been like this?” His tone was clearly critical.

  “You mean low-rent?”

  “This is a little more than low-rent.”

  She inserted her key into the doorknob and turned it open.

  “No dead bolt?” he asked.

  “It’s not exactly a high crime district.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  Insulted and annoyed, she stepped into the doorway and turned. “Thanks for the ride, TJ.”

  He looked confused
. “You don’t want to talk?”

  “About?”

  “About our situation.” His gaze took in the room behind her.

  It was clean. Maybe a little cluttered, since she’d spent so much time at the hospital the past two weeks. There were dishes in the drainer and a basket of clean laundry on the sofa. She’d been to the Laundromat but hadn’t had time to put everything away.

  She realized he had to be used to far more opulent surroundings, but she wasn’t going to apologize. She had a limited budget. Eli had a safe, clean place to live. His school was basic, but the teachers were dedicated. And the park down the street was part of a city beautification project and was a perfectly nice place for him to play.

  “I’m tired,” she said to TJ. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

  He glanced at his watch. “I really don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  “It’s my home. You’re being both ridiculous and insulting.”

  She’d been aware of the neighborhood slipping in recent years. But it was still a perfectly fine place to live.

  “There are thugs on the front sidewalk.”

  “Those are kids.”

  “Those kids have been shaving for more than a few years. They could be armed.”

  She’d had enough. “Good night, TJ. Go back to your five-star hotel. Eat some twenty-dollar almonds from the minibar or something.”

  “Come with me,” he said.

  In exasperation, she dropped her purse on the bookshelf. “I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight. Just like I did last night and just like I’ll be doing tomorrow night.”

  He opened his mouth.

  “Stop,” she ordered. She pointed out the door. “Go. I’ll meet you at the hospital tomorrow.”

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  “No, you won’t. I already regret letting you drive me home.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  He was right. She didn’t. If he hadn’t driven her home, she’d still be standing at the downtown station.

  “Why are you fighting me on this?” he asked.

  It was a fair question. She wasn’t exactly sure. “I think mostly because you’re overbearing.”

  “I’m logical and reasonable.”

  His answer surprised a laugh out of her. “Is that how you see yourself?”