He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts and leaned against the wall. Clearly, he wasn’t going anywhere. Despite all the history between them and her anxiety, she couldn’t help but notice the way his shirt pulled tight against his muscular chest. She frowned. Her days of being attracted to Paul ended when he left her behind all those years ago.
“What do you want?” she asked. He reeled back as if she’d struck him, and she blew out a breath. It wasn’t his fault that she’d felt the slightest—and unwanted—zing of attraction. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”
“It couldn’t have been easy telling them. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” He looked at her for so long she became uncomfortable. She’d grown accustomed to Paul looking through her, so this new scrutiny was unnerving. Her skin began to tingle as he only continued to stare. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know if you’re fine or not. I can’t read you the way I used to. However, given the fact that you’re sweeping a floor that has just been swept, I’m leaning toward no. This isn’t going to work if you hide your feelings.”
“You’re here for my kids. I can handle my feelings on my own.”
He shook his head. “I’m here for all of you. Your feelings and welfare matter to me, too.”
That was different. He hadn’t cared about her feelings in the past. In fact, he’d hurt them quite often. But now that she had cancer, he was suddenly Mr. Sensitive. He might be able to pretend the past away, but she wasn’t interested in playing that game.
She doubted he really cared. He was simply saying what was expected in this situation. He could keep his insincere words. She’d prefer honesty, even if it was painful.
“I’m fine,” she said firmly. She leaned the broom against the wall then returned to the front room. If her kids needed to act like tonight was a regular night, she would join them. Besides, it would help her keep her distance from Paul, something she desperately needed to do. She was vulnerable now and didn’t want to confuse his obligation with a heartfelt emotion that would only lead to hurt and disappointment.
* * *
Paul put the last T-shirt in the dresser drawer, then closed his empty suitcase and shoved it into the closet. It was smaller than the walk-in one in his condo, but it would do. He hadn’t given much thought to his clothes; his mind had been elsewhere. Since the weather was warm, he’d packed mostly shorts and a couple pairs of jeans. He’d brought a suit, too, although he doubted he’d wear it.
“Uncle Paul?”
He turned and smiled at Nathaniel. “Hey.”
“I want to talk to you.”
Nathaniel’s expression was serious, so despite being tired, Paul didn’t want to put him off until tomorrow. “How about we go outside? Your mom and sisters are probably already asleep and we don’t want to disturb them.”
Nathaniel nodded. He didn’t say a word until they were sitting on the front porch steps. Even then, the crickets were the only sound for several minutes.
Paul decided to jump-start the conversation. “What’s up?”
“I’m eleven.”
“I know.”
“I can take care of Mom and my sisters. You can go back to Florida. I don’t need your help.”
Paul hadn’t expected that, but perhaps he should have. Paul had always been protective of his mother even though she’d had a husband by her side to take care of her. Nathaniel no longer had a father, and, in his mind, he was the man of the house. As her oldest child, Roz might rely on Nathaniel to help with his sisters, but Paul knew that she was doing her best to guard his childhood. There was no way she would burden him with adult concerns. That she’d sought out Paul proved that.
“Everyone needs help now and then.”
“You just think I’m a kid and can’t do it.”
“No. I think you’re a kid and shouldn’t have to do it. Your mom knows how great you are. And I know how much you help her with the girls. We want you to keep doing that. But at the same time, I’m here so that you can have fun doing things you enjoy. Like playing basketball with your friends and riding your bike.”
“I can do those things and still take care of Mom.”
Paul knew he had to tread carefully so he didn’t hurt Nathaniel’s feelings and put him on the defensive. Things would go more smoothly if they worked together. He just had to get Nathaniel to see that they were on the same side. They both wanted to help Roz.
Though Nathaniel believed he was equipped to handle the job of caretaker, Paul knew better. The kid was too young to handle so much responsibility. “I’m sure you can. And I’m counting on you. It’s going to take both of us working together to make sure that your mom gets all the care she needs and that the girls don’t get left behind.”
Nathaniel gave him a look that let Paul know he hadn’t convinced him. But words wouldn’t get rid of Nathaniel’s skepticism. Only actions would do that.
Nathaniel opened his mouth, but Paul was tired and didn’t want to go around in circles for the rest of the night. He’d been working practically around the clock organizing his business so he could work from Sweet Briar and he’d barely slept in days. “How about we just give it a try?”
“I don’t need to play basketball or ride my bike.”
“Maybe you don’t need to do those things, but we have to keep things normal for Megan and Suzanne. They need to know that it’s okay to have fun. If you stop playing, they might get worried and think your mother is sicker than she is. That might scare them. You don’t want to do that, do you?”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“Good. It’s best for the girls for everything to be the same as it was before.”
“Except you weren’t here before.”
“No. But if you act like it’s okay for me to be here, then it won’t seem unusual to them. You’re the big brother. The girls are going to follow your lead. If you’re all right, they’ll be all right.”
Nathaniel rubbed his hands over his shorts. “Will you tell me the truth about something?”
“Yes.”
Nathaniel’s voice quivered. “Is Mom going to die?”
Paul’s throat tightened and he felt like he was being strangled. It took maximum effort to make his voice sound normal. “I don’t think so. She has good doctors and she’s going to do everything they tell her to do so that she can get well.”
“And you think she will,” Nathaniel pressed.
“Yes.” Paul hoped that he wasn’t giving the kid false hope. But worrying him unnecessarily didn’t make sense.
“Okay.” Nathaniel stood. Instead of going into the house, he turned and glared at Paul. “You’d better be telling me the truth.”
After Nathaniel marched into the house, Paul looked up at the darkening sky. He hoped what he said was the truth. Otherwise, they all would be in a world of hurt.
Chapter Two
Roz slid onto the step and then leaned her head against the rail, closing her eyes and praying that the dizziness would pass. She’d undergone her first chemotherapy session in Charlotte yesterday and she was weak. Paul was dropping the kids at the youth center where they would spend the day, so she didn’t have to put on a good face for them. It had been a week since she’d told the kids about her illness, but they hadn’t brought it up again. She didn’t know if that was good or bad, but she didn’t feel good enough to start a conversation about her health with them.
Her kids loved playing with their friends at the youth center and spent several days a week there. With Paul’s help, the kids could stick to their normal routine, which wouldn’t leave them time to worry about her. Normal was what she was striving for.
She’d kissed each of her children goodbye and managed to stay upright on the sofa until they were out the door. Then, summoning all of her e
nergy, she’d tried to return to her bedroom. She’d crossed the living room and climbed six of the thirteen stairs leading to the second floor before her energy had run out.
Frustrated, sad and scared, Roz let the tears that had been building up slide down her face. There was no one to see her and no reason she had to hide her feelings. No need to fake the serenity she was nowhere near feeling.
Roz heard the front door open and swiped a hand across her face. Paul was back more quickly than she’d expected. There was no way she wanted him to see her crying. He already felt sorry for her. She didn’t want more of his pity. She didn’t want his pity at all.
“Are you okay?” Paul asked as he jogged up the stairs, two at a time.
“I’m fine.”
“Why are you sitting here?”
“I got tired. I’m better now.” She pushed to her feet. It was slow going and she wobbled.
“You’re not better,” Paul said, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her the rest of the way up the stairs. He didn’t put her down until he reached her room and set her on the side of her bed.
“Thank you,” she said begrudgingly. She wasn’t angry with Paul. Not really. But being carried only emphasized how dependent she was on him.
If Paul noticed her unpleasant tone, he chose to ignore it. “You didn’t eat much breakfast. Do you want to try and eat a little bit more?”
“What I really want to do is go back to sleep. Then maybe I’ll eat something.”
He didn’t look pleased by her answer, but he didn’t try to change her mind. She appreciated that. Just because she was dependent on him for help didn’t make her a child. “I’ll let you sleep, then. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. If you need anything, just call.”
She nodded and pointed to her cell phone. He’d programmed his number into her phone that first night even though he could hear her if she yelled. She waited until he’d gone back downstairs before crawling into her bed and placing her head on her pillow. Hopefully, a nap would energize her before the kids got home.
* * *
Paul cleared the breakfast dishes with jerky movements. Though he worked efficiently, his thoughts were elsewhere. There was no way Roz was going to be able to climb those stairs every day. True, she’d had chemotherapy yesterday, and might get her strength back soon, but what if she didn’t? In his research, he’d learned that, for some people, the side effects from chemo could last for days or weeks. What if Roz was one of those people? Her treatment plan called for her to undergo chemo every three weeks. She was scheduled for four treatments. She could be sick and weak for months. And that didn’t include surgery and recovery times.
There had to be something he could do.
He returned the syrup to the walk-in pantry and paused before going through the kitchen into the tiny catchall room that shared a wall with the pantry. The idea hit him instantly. He could knock down the wall between the rooms and create a main floor bedroom for Roz. That way she wouldn’t need to go up and down the stairs. He’d worked with a builder the summer before he’d left for college and had learned a lot. First, he needed to make sure that the wall wasn’t structural. If it wasn’t, the process would be a lot cheaper and go a lot faster. And it would make life easier for all of them.
Living with Roz and her kids was nothing like he’d thought it would be. To be honest, he hadn’t given it any thought before agreeing to come and help her. Hearing the word cancer had struck fear in his heart like he’d never experienced before. Although he tried not to show it, he was still worried about her.
Once she’d left his office, he’d scoured the internet for every article he could find about cervical cancer. What he’d read confused him. Most cases of cervical cancer occurred in middle-aged women. Roz was only thirty.
He hadn’t taken much time to think about the details of the move. There’d been too much to do. He might not understand her medical condition, but he knew one thing. She needed him.
The easiest tasks had been work related. Although he delegated work to his trusted vice president, Paul was a hands-on owner. He liked to know what was going on in his business. To him, being visible and accessible were key, so he visited each of his locations every quarter to talk with employees and mingle with members. All told, he spent roughly ten days a month on the road, so his absence wouldn’t be a problem. His office staff assured him they could function on their own.
But talking with Kristin hadn’t gone as smoothly. Though she was beautiful, it was her logical nature that he found most attractive. She was always levelheaded and rational. Kristin was a brilliant surgeon with a compassionate heart, but she wasn’t the emotional type. That’s why Paul had been so surprised by her response to his decision to help Roz. She’d blown her top. She claimed she understood Roz’s need for assistance. She just hadn’t understood why Paul was the one who had to help her.
They’d gone around in circles without coming to an understanding. Neither had been able to convince the other. He’d been ready to table the conversation and discuss it once their tempers had cooled, but Kristin had said it would be best if they stopped seeing each other. That had seemed extreme to him, but she’d been adamant. He’d reluctantly agreed, but he wasn’t ready to let that relationship die. He believed that, given time, she’d realize that he was right.
But in the meantime, was it wise to get so involved with Roz’s problem that he was renovating her house? Maybe not, but what choice did he have?
Nathaniel was old enough to help him. That would give them a chance to bond. The girls had chattered away on the drive to the youth center that morning. Apart from giving directions or answering one of his sister’s questions, Nathaniel hadn’t said a word. Apparently, the easy relationship they’d once shared was a thing of the past. Nathaniel was a good kid, so Paul didn’t expect his attitude to last long. Working together to build the room and make Roz’s life better would help them get back on good terms.
Paul spent the rest of the morning measuring the spaces and sourcing and pricing materials. He even sketched a design to share with Roz. Hopefully, she would agree to his plan.
When he was done, he warmed up soup and made sandwiches for them. Balancing everything on a tray, he headed to Roz’s room. She was sitting up in her bed and color had returned to her face. Her eyes were alert. Seeing her looking so normal eased the tight band that had been squeezing his chest since he’d spotted her on the stairs earlier.
“I brought you lunch.”
She eyed the tray. He was completely aware of the moment she noticed there were two bowls of soup and two sandwiches, but other than raise her eyebrow, she didn’t react. There was no reason for the two of them to eat together—they only shared a meal when the kids were around—but he wanted to talk to her about his plan.
“I can’t eat all of that.”
“Try. Once you take a few bites, your appetite might return.”
“That’s not how it works.”
He knew that. But he couldn’t just let her waste away. She hadn’t eaten anything after her chemotherapy yesterday and she’d barely eaten breakfast today. He’d badgered her into taking a few bites of banana and she’d gnawed on a piece of toast, just to get him to shut up.
“Food is fuel.”
“You should know.”
He waited until she sipped a spoonful of soup before broaching the subject of the room. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Again? That’s what, twice this year? You need to watch out for that. If you do it too often, it might become a habit. Then where would you be?”
He laughed and nearly choked on his sandwich. He’d forgotten just how wicked her sense of humor was. Given everything going on with her health, it was good that she could still make jokes, even if it was at his expense. “I’ll be as careful as I can.”
She nodded and slurped some more soup.
“I was thinking
about knocking down the wall between the pantry and storage room and making a bedroom for you downstairs. Then you won’t have to deal with the stairs.”
She stared at him, her previous mirth gone. “That sounds like a lot of effort and time. Not to mention money.”
“It’s not.”
“Not what? A lot of money or a lot of effort and time.”
“All of the above. If you’re interested in the room, Nathaniel and I can build it.”
“Nathaniel? He’s just a kid. He already has more responsibility than he needs. He should be playing with his friends, not working construction.”
“I agree. But that’s not the way he sees it. He looks at my presence as a threat to his role in the family. Building the room together would help him see me less as a threat and more like a friend.”
Roz sighed. “I suppose so. How much do you think it’ll cost?”
“I’ll pay for it, Roz. It was my idea after all.”
“I have money. I’m on paid sick leave. Plus I have disability insurance. I don’t need your charity.”
“It’s not charity. Consider it my rent.”
“Rent?”
“I’m not paying anything, yet I’m using your electricity and water. Seems like a fair trade.”
“You’re taking care of my kids.”
He was taking care of her, too, but obviously she couldn’t bring herself to admit that. “They’re my nieces and nephew.”
“Still...”
The last thing either of them needed was a long, drawn-out argument. The new room was supposed to make her life easier, not more stressful. “Let me do this for you, Roz. It’s a gift. But if you can’t accept it as that, you can pay for the materials. How’s that?”
She nodded. “I appreciate the thought. And a room downstairs would make sense. At least in the short term. It could serve as a guest room or office, down the road.”
After that, they sat in awkward silence for a little while. Years of talking to each other only when required had killed their previous ability to communicate easily, and their earlier camaraderie had vanished. He searched for something to say. “How often do the kids go to the youth center?”
The Single Mom's Second Chance Page 3