A Dad of His Own Read online

  Pressure grew in her chest. “I suppose, but envy makes me feel shallow. I should be grateful.”

  “I think part of you is, but look at yourself, Lexie. You ask nothing from anyone. You want to do it yourself. Some of us have tried to support you, but you don’t seem to want it so we back off. The only person I know you to depend on beside yourself is your sitter, Mrs. Beckmeyer.”

  She pictured the kindly neighbor’s face. “You’re right. I’ve never learned to expect help from anyone.”

  “But you don’t have to expect it. You can accept it. There’s a difference.” A frown crept to her face. “Does Ethan take over? Does he try to tell you what to do with Cooper or—”

  “No. No. He’s been nothing but kind. He always tells Cooper to get permission from me for everything. He’s been great.”

  “Then accept it, Lexie. He sounds like a gem to me.”

  She lowered her head as Ethan’s concerned expression filled her mind. “He is a gem.”

  Searching her face, Lexie captured her gaze. “Is that all that’s bothering you?”

  A lengthy breath escaped her. “No. I suppose it’s not. Obviously I met Ethan when he did the presentation for Dreams Come True.” She filled Kelsey in on Ethan’s probing Cooper about his dreams and wants. “When Coop said he’d thought of a wish, I felt left out. Ethan hadn’t asked me about heading in that direction, and I’m not sure Cooper’s ready. I don’t want anything to go wrong and disappoint him again. He so longed for school, and I lived in fear that he’d get back into school and then have to drop out again. I just—”

  “You can’t live in fear. You don’t want to keep Cooper from every experience in case his remission fails.”

  “I don’t want to hold him back, but—”

  “Wouldn’t Cooper enjoy something special, and so what if it can’t happen as you want? If he does have a setback, he still knows that an opportunity can happen again. It gives him something to look forward to, especially with summer coming. It’s a long summer for him to sit at home and wait to get sick again, Lexie.”

  Tears sneaked onto Lexie’s lashes.

  Kelsey leaned forward and grasped Lexie’s hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so strong. I only wanted you to—”

  “It’s okay. It’s fine. I needed to hear that.” Lexie brushed her fingers beneath her eyes to wipe away the telltale tears. “I’m frustrated with myself for being so negative about this. I pride myself on being positive.”

  “You’re one of the most positive people I know, but sometimes we all fall apart a little. Don’t be mad at yourself. Just make it better. Be open with Ethan. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  Be open. She’d been thinking about that herself. “I’ll call him. I think I owe him an apology.” She leaned closer and gave Kelsey a hug. “Thanks.” She definitely had the skills of a peacemaker, and Lexie needed to learn forgiveness and accept reconciliation in more ways than one.

  Ethan tucked his cell phone into his pocket, happy to have received the call he’d been waiting for. Lexie apologized and said she wanted to talk to him. She gave no hint as to what had changed her mind, but at this point he didn’t care. Filled with relief, he finished the job he was winding up, said his goodbyes to the clients and strode to his car.

  In minutes, he pulled into her driveway, but then it struck him. Besides the apology, Lexie sounded decisive and commanding, as if she had a sense of purpose that needed to be addressed. This wasn’t necessarily good news. The awareness took the edge from his excitement. He grasped the door handle and paused, bowing his head and not only talking to God but to himself about acceptance. If Lexie wanted him out of her life, he had to deal with it and know that it was God’s choice, too.

  Straightening his back, he pushed open the car door and stepped outside. Spring flowers had poked their heads above the ground. Yellow daffodils, pink tulips and purple crocuses spread a colorful blanket below the evergreen shrubs that lined the front porch. If they were there the last time he visited, Ethan hadn’t noticed, and the vibrant tones brightened his steps, a paradox to the concern that burned inside him.

  Before he pressed the bell, Lexie opened the door, her lovely face tainted by a look of tension. “I hope I didn’t mess up your plans.”

  “Plans? Not one bit. I had nothing to do tonight.” He stepped past her and waited for her to indicate the direction. She looked amazing in jeans and a long purple sweater-type top that draped around her shoulders. “I’m glad you called.”

  When she turned, her tense expression had eased. “So am I.” She motioned toward the kitchen.

  The scent of food surrounded him. Bewildered, he followed her through the dining room to the kitchen island.

  “I’m making dinner. I hope you’re hungry.”

  With his thoughts heading in a multitude of directions, his stomach tightened into a knot. “Could we talk first?”

  She stopped at the refrigerator and turned. “I’d planned that. Dinner’s not ready yet.”

  He stopped himself from saying “Good.”

  Lexie pulled out a soft drink, a cola that she knew he liked, and a diet drink for herself. “I have so much to say, and I don’t know where to begin.” She handed him the can and headed for the cabinet where she kept the glasses.

  “This is fine.”

  She stopped and motioned toward the living room.

  Heading for the easy chair, Ethan noticed the quiet. Usually Cooper was all over him by the time he took two steps into the house. He paused near the easy chair. “Where’s my buddy?”

  “Kelsey invited him over to play with Lucy for a while.”

  The news traveled down his back like ice. This couldn’t be good. He eyed the chair, and when she settled onto the sofa, he sank into the cushion, sensing that their talk would be serious. And probably far more serious than he’d hoped. He tried to ease the tension in his jaw before looking her in the eyes—pale blue crystals. Her soft brown waves of hair swirled over one shoulder and her lips were the color of pink tulips. His pulse pulsated up his arm.

  “I want you to know how sorry I am for—”

  Ethan inhaled from his trance. “You already apologized, Lexie. I’m sorry too for whatever happened. I know I did something that upset you.”

  She leaned forward. “No, you haven’t. That’s the problem. You didn’t really do anything wrong. It’s me, Ethan. I’ve been the sole caregiver to Cooper all of his life. I—I guess I’ve found it difficult to accept someone else important to him.” She shook her head, her eyes closed.

  His voice bolted through the tension. “Lexie, if I’ve over-stepped my bounds with Cooper, then I need to back off and—”

  “You’ve been more than kind. You care about him. You came here to offer him a dream, and I stepped in the way. I guess I felt you were offering Cooper things I couldn’t give him.”

  “The gifts not from me. It’s the foundation.”

  “I know, but in my warped thinking that’s what I feel. I realized, finally, I’m envious of your relationship with Cooper.”

  “Jealous of me?”

  “I know, Ethan. I want you to ask Cooper what dream you could make come true. He deserves to have fun in his life. I want to change. You’ve shown real concern, and you’ve allowed me to lean on you.” She captured his gaze. “You see, that’s another thing I never do. I depend on me. Just me.” A shudder rippled through her chest. “That scares me.”

  “But why?” He rose and settled beside her on the sofa. “We talked about this before. No person is meant to bear the burden alone. Burdens are meant to be shared.”

  “With Jesus.”

  Her response startled him. “Yes, the Lord, too, but I’m talking about people sharing burdens. I grieve with friends who are dealing with problems. You met Ross. He lost a wife and now his daughter suffers from the same disease. I empathize with his plight. I care what happens to Peyton.”

  She gave a faint nod. “I guess I do, too. When Lucy was so bad, it br
oke my heart. All the women at MOSK help carry each other’s trials, but I probably avoided saying too much. I don’t want people’s pity.”

  “Do you pity Kelsey? Do you pity the other women in MOSK?”

  “Pity?” She blinked as the color drained from her face. “No. I understand what they’re going through.”

  “And that’s how they feel about your troubles. Why do you assume people pity you? I don’t pity you, Lexie. And I definitely don’t pity Cooper. He’s an amazing boy. I love him and I care.” From the look on her face, he’d said too much. He’d let the word love slip into the discussion, and it had taken its toll on their openness.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Do you really love him?”

  The question kicked him in the gut. Lord, what should I do? he silently prayed.

  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

  Ethan felt the Bible verse wrap around him. “I do. Laine and I never had kids. I wish we had. I know Cooper’s not my child, but I found myself cheering him on and being proud of his courage. He’s bright and positive. It just happened. I do love your son.” He longed to know her reaction, and when it came, it was better than he’d expected.

  “Thank you for caring so much.”

  Tears brimmed her eyes, and he lifted his finger and brushed them away. The warmth of her cheek stirred his heartbeat, and he slipped his other hand behind her back and pressed her closer.

  “I’m not accustomed to all of this, Ethan, so be patient with me. You’ve become a special person in my life, and I know I’ve been leery. I really couldn’t understand why anyone could care so much about us.”

  “Get used to it, Lexie.”

  She lifted her chin and smiled. His gaze drifted to her full lips, the slight curve like pink petals opening to the sun. His heart beat in his throat, and the longing rose until he couldn’t stop himself. He lowered his mouth to hers, tasting her sweetness. He felt her shudder, and he drew back, fearing he’d undone all the good that had happened. He was wrong. Her eyes were still closed, and as she inched them open, a hint of amazement glinted there.

  He lifted his hand and brushed her cheek, allowing his fingers to glide across her lips, their eyes linked in anticipation. He leaned forward, his hand at the back of her head, her thick hair cushioning his fingers as he lowered his mouth to hers again.

  Lexie’s palm pressed his cheek, drawing along his afternoon stubble, and as she drew back, she released a shaky breath. “I haven’t been kissed in many years.”

  “Neither have I.” A grin tugged at his mouth, and he let it happen.

  Her body relaxed, and she pressed her hand against his. “Kelsey will be bringing Cooper home soon. I’d better check on dinner.”

  He rose and took her hand as she stood, then felt uncomfortable. Where would they go from here? Questions barraged him as he wandered back into the kitchen and watched her lean over the oven. She’d prepared a beef roast, and the rich scent reminded him that he was hungry. He settled on a stool at the island and watched her turn on a burner before sliding a pan onto the heat. “Can I help?”

  “I have some dinner rolls there.” She motioned to a package of prepared rolls. “I want to brown those.”

  He stood and removed the plastic wrap as she slid a cookie sheet in front of him. While he worked, Ross and his question came to mind. He slid the roll-filled sheet in front of her and leaned his back against the counter. “Remember when I asked you about men joining MOSK?”

  She glanced at him. “It was the day we met.”

  He nodded. “Ross asked me the same question.” His chest tightened.

  “Really? I’m surprised.” One of her eyebrows arched.

  “You told me you didn’t know of any men’s groups.” He wondered if she would remember what else she said.

  “I meant men aren’t part of ours. It’s Mothers of—”

  “Special Kids.” He arched his brow. “But now, you have a man who’s interested. Any hope that—”

  She shook her head and cut him off. “I can’t imagine it.”

  “Could you ask whoever you need to ask?”

  She looked away, and he could see her mind working for a response.

  “I’m not comfortable with that idea, but I can ask Kelsey what she thinks.”

  He shrugged, facing the situation. The problem seemed more than men not wanting to talk about feelings. Apparently women didn’t want to share their emotions with men. That confused him. Women always seemed to talk about feelings.

  The phone rang, and the conversation ended there. He would tell Ross he’d asked. That was the only control he had over the situation, which was basically no control at all.

  Instead of answering the kitchen extension, Lexie slipped into the den. He could hear her voice but couldn’t make out the words. In a moment, she stepped out and slid the door closed, then approached him. “Good timing. Kelsey is bringing Cooper home.”

  She headed to a cabinet and pulled out plates and salad bowls, then faced him. “I did mention Ross’s interest to Kelsey, but she didn’t seem to anxious to deal with it.”

  He bit the inside of his lip, disappointed at both women’s attitudes, but then the organization wasn’t his, and what right did he have to criticize? “Thanks.”

  “She’ll think about it. The women would need to all agree. That’s the biggest problem.”

  Did he sense a glimmer of hope? He settled onto the stool thinking about Cooper’s return. The obvious absence of the boy had been planned. It was obvious. That’s why Lexie answered the phone in the den. Kelsey probably asked about their talk. Women loved to share. Too bad men didn’t always take that opportunity.

  Lexie pulled out the roast and slipped the rolls into the oven. Watching a woman in the kitchen consoled him. It had been a long time. He thought of Laine cooking meals in their kitchen, but only seconds passed before memories of her illness shrouded the image. He recalled times during her battle when he should have taken the opportunity of a group to discuss his frustration and fears. Would he have joined an organization if one had been available? He hadn’t looked into it then. Would he now?

  Ethan rose and wandered into the living room. He glanced out the front window, watching for Cooper. His gaze drifted to the sofa where he’d kissed Lexie, and the warmth of their kiss flickered down his spine. He could have said so much more. He’d admitted loving Cooper. But what about Lexie? He needed to understand if his feelings were real and lasting. Could he handle their tension when her protectiveness pushed him away? Could he handle her resentment again when it happened? And it would.

  Chapter Eight

  Lexie heard Cooper’s voice screeching Ethan’s name as he charged into the house. She hurried to the front door to wave thank-you to Kelsey before facing Cooper. Cuddled in Ethan’s arms, Cooper rattled on about all the things he’d done with Lucy. Lexie had always been the one to listen and hold him. Envy sputtered through her before she took control. Why couldn’t she let go and be thrilled that someone else loved her son, too?

  She wandered to the archway and looked into the living room. “So you had fun?”

  “Mom, Lucy has some new puzzles, and she has a game that we played with sticks. We had to pick them up without touching another one.”

  Pick Up sticks. Lexie grinned at Cooper’s exuberance. Such an old game and she’d never thought of it. “We’ll have to buy it.”

  “And me and you and Ethan could play.”

  Ethan tousled his hair. “Sounds like fun.”

  “I’d better get dinner.” She reached the archway before stopping. “Wash your hands, Coop.”

  “Ethan, too.” Cooper grabbed his hand and tugged him up from the chair.

  They hurried past her to the bathroom off the kitchen, and she set the table and checked on the rolls, now golden and ready for serving. She pulled them out. Voices drifted to her with Cooper’s never-ending conversation when Ethan was near. Her heart squeezed as a new sensation warmed her chest. Cooper loved Eth
an. He loved Cooper. She loved Coop. And she loved… Her heart constricted again as heat rose on her face. “We’re clean.”

  Ethan’s voice caught her in the midst of her admission. She faced him, her cheeks warm from her thoughts.

  “You’ve been hanging over that oven too long.”

  She sent him a feeble smile. “Can you put some of those rolls in that basket?” She motioned to it at the end of the counter as she settled the roast onto a platter and placed the carrots and potatoes around the edge of the beef. “And you can grab the salad from the fridge.” Distraction. It had worked.

  Ethan slipped past her and carried both items to the table. She followed with the roast, checked the salad dressings she’d set on the table earlier, and then waved Cooper to the table. They slid onto chairs, although she noticed Ethan had tried to reach her before she sank onto the seat. She pulled her napkin from beneath the knife and placed it on her lap. “Mom.”

  Lexie eyed Cooper, his hands folded in front of him.

  “How come Mrs. Rhodes and Lucy thank Jesus for their food and we don’t?”

  Her voice left her, and the heat that had been on her cheeks turned to ice. She had no answer to his question that wouldn’t upset him.

  “Some people feel close to Jesus so they say thank-you for all the blessings He gives them.”

  Ethan’s response whipped out before she could find a word.

  “Don’t we feel close to Jesus?” A frown had settled on Cooper’s face as he studied her.

  This time Ethan refrained from responding, and she grasped for wisdom. “When I was a little girl my parents didn’t talk to Jesus.”

  “Were they mad at Him?”

  She pressed her lips together not sure if she should laugh or cry. “They didn’t know Him, Cooper.”

  “But I know Him.” His eyes filled with sincerity.

  “How do you know Jesus?”