A Dad of His Own

by Gail Gaymer Martin

She slipped into a chair, and he joined her, wanting to offer comfort but not knowing how. He covered her hand with his and remained silent. They sat as the clock clicked the seconds, each delving into their thoughts, each feeling emotions they couldn’t share. He could guess hers. A mother facing her son’s tragic disease must long for a miracle, for anything to take away the fear and the pain of seeing her child so ill.

  His feelings were different. For the first time in years, he’d unlocked the trunk he’d closed. He’d allowed his emotions to respond to a woman and not just any woman. To Lexie, a woman who’d opened his heart.

  Lexie shifted, and Ethan pulled away his hand. She pushed herself from the chair and rose. “I think they’ll keep him overnight at least.” She checked her watch. “If you don’t mind waiting a few more minutes, I’ll go and check.”

  “Take as long as you need.”

  She turned and slipped through the doorway.

  He placed his palm on his knee, asking himself questions that had no answers. What did he expect of their relationship? Could he make it through another grave battle with cancer and come out unscathed? Would Lexie open her heart when hers was tied to her child’s needs? Should he be a friend and try to keep it that way or let his heart go where it willed? A thought poked him. Or was it where God willed? Did he have a choice? This relationship might be God’s doing. It might have nothing to do with the kind of relationship his emotions were taking him through. Was this an act of compassion? Was he the catalyst for Lexie’s faith? The questions reeled in his mind.

  “Ethan.”

  He jerked his head upward, surprised to see Lexie had returned.

  “You looked deep in thought.”

  He rose, willing his thoughts away from the journey they’d been on. “How’s he doing?”

  “They want to keep him tonight, so we can go.”

  “Are you sure?” He studied her.

  “I’m a veteran at this. Don’t worry about me. Hopefully he’ll be released tomorrow.”

  “Is he sleeping?”

  She nodded. “I kissed him goodbye. I’m okay to go. This is a natural setback with the new medication. Cooper will be fine tomorrow.” Her eyes searched his with the look of confidence. “Really.”

  Ethan forced his legs to move. She might be okay to go, but he remembered the times he made it home only to be called back to the hospital again. He opened his mouth to voice his concern, but Lexie looked content so he remained silent.

  When he pulled out onto the highway, he left Lexie in her solitude. His tongue had adhered to the roof of his mouth with words he couldn’t speak and emotions he couldn’t swallow. Lexie stared out the passenger window, and her silence felt deafening.

  Instead of forcing conversation, Ethan sank into his own thoughts until she spoke his name. He glanced at her. “Are you okay?”

  “Thoughtful.” Her gaze drifted back to the window for a moment until she shifted and gazed at his profile. “Have you healed from your wife’s death?”

  The question knocked the wind out of him. He swallowed and asked himself where the question had come from. “As much as anyone can heal from a horrendous ordeal like that. She was part of my life for eight years. We were married seven of those, and it was wonderful.”

  “You still love her.”

  Though confused, his heart warmed. “For sure.” He glanced her way, struck by the thoughtful look on her face. “How could I not love a person who brought me so much happiness?” He slowed for a light and stopped. “But she’s gone, Lexie, and as much as she remains in memories, Laine is not here. It took me a few years to—”

  “Four, you said.”

  She’d remembered. “Yes, four. Four long years to realize that she was gone but I wasn’t. Laine would want me to be happy again. She would want me to have children. I have no doubt about that.”

  “Then…” She lowered her gaze. “Why are you still single?”

  His heart plummeted to his stomach. “I haven’t found—” Hadn’t. He hadn’t found the woman until maybe now. “I’m waiting for God’s leading.”

  She tilted her head. “His leading? What does that mean?”

  He searched for an analogy she would understand. “You know when you’re trying to find the perfect outfit to wear to a party. Or you have so many choices and nothing seems the right one until you look in a new direction, and your gaze zooms in to one you hadn’t noticed. Right then, you know that’s the perfect choice—the perfect dress to wear. You put it on and feel wonderful in it.” He chuckled, realizing how feeble his explanation seemed. “I don’t hear a voice, but I feel it. Right here.” He pressed his hand against his chest.

  “And that’s God’s leading?” Her eyes narrowed, and she released a lengthy breath. “I’m not sure I’ve felt that.”

  “I’d guess you have a few times in your life.” The light turned green, and he returned his foot to the accelerator, giving himself time to think. “How about when you got married? Or when you had Cooper?”

  Her eyes widened. “Cooper.” Tension eased on her face. “Yes.” Her head inched up and down in three short nods. “Yes. When I had Cooper, I knew it was right and beautiful.”

  “That’s when I would know it was God’s leading.”

  The troubled look returned. “I don’t know if that…”

  The expression twisted his heart. The look of anguish and doubt. He tried to make sense out of it. “Is it the idea of God? Or is it believing?”

  She didn’t respond.

  Ethan watched moisture rim her eyes, and he wanted so badly to help, to do something to make the hurt go away. He wanted to ask about her husband. Was that the hurt she felt? Had he left her? Died? But the questions sank back into his mind. This moment was for listening and waiting.

  “Sometimes I feel as if I’m missing something. I don’t know if it’s God or a life without sorrow.” She shook her head. “I really don’t know.”

  His chest tightened, hearing her say that much. She wanted to believe. He sensed that, but finding the Lord had to be personal and in His time. Ethan would be an example. That’s all he could do. “You’ll figure it out. Just keep your mind and heart open.”

  She pressed her lips together for a moment. “How could you believe and yet face your wife’s death? That’s what I don’t get. I thought God was supposed to be loving.”

  Ethan’s breath hitched, and his lungs emptied of air. He had no idea how to explain why God did what He did. Ethan trusted. That was it. He grappled to fill his lungs. “I trust Him. I’m finite. He’s infinite. God knows things I don’t, so I accept those terrible situations, knowing He has a reason that I will never know until I meet Him face-to-face.” He dragged in another breath. “I know that sounds simplistic, but that’s what my heart believes. It’s trust and that’s faith.”

  “And it’s hope.” She raised her eyebrows, a faint grin on her mouth.

  “Yes. We’re back to that.”

  “I admire you, Ethan. You’ve had your feet knocked out from under you, but you stand firm like a fortress.”

  He wanted to tell her God was the fortress. He was the lichen clinging to its sides. But he didn’t say it. He’d said enough for now. “Thanks. I admire you, too. You’ve been staunch and so independent, but now I think you can relax. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to say you need someone by your side. I don’t know where you’ve gotten your strength.”

  “From experience.”

  She quieted again, and Ethan knew he had to let the silence remain. She needed to think, and he needed to pray that the Lord would slip between the cracks of her heart and settle there.

  Lexie leaned her back against the picnic table and watched Ethan with Cooper. From what she could tell, Cooper’s goal was to use every bit of the memory card in his new camera. He’d taken a couple close-ups of her, pictures of grass blades, wildflowers, leaves, a ladybug, the wood texture on the picnic bench and the apples she’d brought for them to eat. “Mom.”

  She g
azed at the smile on Cooper’s face, and her heart warmed like the sun.

  Cooper wiggled his finger for her to come, and she rose, delighted to see her boy look so happy and healthy. A glow brightened his cheeks rather than the sallow shade of his skin for so many weeks. When she reached him, he handed her the camera.

  “Take a picture of me and Ethan.”

  She grasped the camera, her gaze drifting to Ethan’s surprised expression. “Is it okay?”

  “Sure.” He crouched beside Cooper.

  But Ethan’s face showed an expression not quite as certain as his voice.

  Lexie stood back, adjusted the lens for a close-up of their heads and torsos. Her heart lurched when she watched Cooper lean his knit cap against Ethan’s cheek. Stress glided across Ethan’s face before he covered it with a smile. She snapped the photograph and returned the camera to Cooper.

  But Ethan’s look troubled her, and she longed to ask him what he was thinking. Yet when questions came, she avoided prodding his thoughts. She might hear things she didn’t want to hear. Though she’d been edgy at times with their relationship, she told herself she did it for Cooper. Truth be told, Lexie had to admit she enjoyed his company. He’d been a gentleman all the way, never stepping outside the bounds of friendship or making suggestive comments.

  What confused her was the disappointment she felt when he maintained the boundary. Dealing with Cooper’s illness had preoccupied her life, so the new emotional sensations threw her off balance. “Mom.”

  She jerked her mind back to Cooper. “What?”

  “Can’t you see me?”

  She realized he’d been beckoning to her again.

  Cooper continued to motion her to come closer. “I want to take a picture of you and Ethan.”

  Her heart pounded. “You’ve taken enough photographs. You’ll run out of memory in one day.”

  “No, I won’t.” He spun around to face Ethan. “You told me that we can put them on the computer, right?”

  Ethan glanced her way with a subtle shrug. “Right. You save the pictures on the computer.”

  Cooper widened his eyes. “Okay, Mom?”

  A stream of breath escaped her as she looked at Ethan.

  A gentle grin swept across his face. “It’s hard to fight logic.”

  She moved to Ethan’s side, and they faced Cooper who stood back, adjusting the lens. He’d caught on so fast it amazed her.

  “Closer.” Cooper motioned for them to shift.

  She let her arm touch Ethan’s and felt his palm glide across her back as his embrace wrapped around her shoulders.

  Cooper grinned. “Okay. Smile.”

  She smiled and her pulse quickened at Ethan’s closeness. If she could understand her reaction, she would feel better. Instead of fighting her feelings, she moved away from the source and settled back on the picnic bench. Life wasn’t soft and cushy. Getting used to pleasures could only lead to disappointment.

  Cooper and Ethan strode her way, her son beaming as he talked with Ethan. What if…? Her stomach knotted. No. Don’t go there. Questions were useless when the answers hid behind Ethan’s kindness. He knew the truth. She could only presume.

  “I’m finished.” Cooper set the camera on the picnic table. “Can I have something to eat?”

  The abrupt photo-taking end roused her curiosity, and she eyed Ethan.

  Ethan gave her a wink. That was all. He must have said something to Cooper, or she assumed he’d be taking photographs until the sun set.

  Lexie opened the picnic container and pulled out two apples and a banana. Cooper grasped one apple and Ethan, the other. She retrieved the banana and stripped off the peel as the sugary scent surrounded her.

  Ethan settled beside her on the bench while Cooper sat behind her. Lexie swiveled on the seat and tossed her legs over the wooden plank to face him. “You look so much better, Coop.”

  “I feel good.”

  She’d heard that so often, but this time she believed him. “I know you do.”

  “Maybe Dr. Herman will let me go to school.” Hopefulness glinted in his eyes.

  The look weakened her. “Maybe he will.”

  Ethan gave him a high five. “That would be great, Coop. I’d be as happy as you are.”

  “Really?” Cooper’s face glowed.

  “Really.”

  Ethan’s comment should have pleased her, but as always, she second-guessed the meaning. If Cooper were in school, Ethan wouldn’t have reason to spend time with him. The thought hurt. Not only for herself but for her son. She couldn’t count on this man to stay around. Ethan wanted to fulfill Cooper’s dreams, and she needed to keep his purpose in her mind and stop letting other foolish thoughts get in the way of reality.

  She rose and strode to a nearby trash bin. She lifted the lid and tossed the banana peel into the container. If only she could toss away her nagging thoughts. Being grateful that Ethan cared about Cooper had to become her primary focus. He visited for a practical reason. Yes. That was his motivation. She swallowed and turned to face the picnic table. “Are you ready to go?”

  Cooper hopped off the bench and darted toward her. “We’re going for ice cream. Ethan knows the best place. Ray’s. That’s what he said.”

  Ice cream, Ethan said. Her child beamed up at her. How could she say no?

  Lexie grinned at the sound of Cooper and Lucy quibbling over a puzzle in the second-floor playroom. Kelsey’s voice floated down the stairs as she tried to teach them how to compromise. Good luck, Kelsey, Lexie thought. She poured two glasses of iced tea and two glasses of milk. Then she added a few cookies. Maybe a treat would help them forget who did what to whom.

  After putting the drinks on a small tray, she carried the treats upstairs and set the drinks in front of the three. She settled beside Kelsey in a comfy chair away from the puzzle table. While she had too much on her mind today to be a good hostess, the playtime was needed for Cooper. Soon he would be back in school, and he needed the opportunity to socialize with others his age.

  “Cooper’s doing so well. I’m happy for you both.” Kelsey lifted the glass and sipped the tea.

  “It’s amazing. These last treatments have turned things around, although I thought they’d be the end of him.” Her chest emptied of air. “I’m not kidding.”

  “I know you’re not.”

  “He’s been having so much fun with the camera he got for his birthday. We went to the park and took some pictures. They’re pretty good.” She rose. “Come with me a minute. I’ll show you. They’re on the computer.”

  Kelsey rose and followed her to the stairs. “You gave him a digital camera?”

  Lexie’s pulse kicked. “It was a birthday gift.” She stopped before mentioning Ethan again. Kelsey made too much out of everything.

  Inside the den, she hit the space bar, and the computer awakened. “I really think he has talent.” She turned to Kelsey. “You know how he loves all those books with pictures of national parks and nature. One of his newest has a lot of close-ups, and he was so curious.” She slipped into the chair and worked through links to the photographs, then set up a slide show. Before clicking, she rose from the chair. “Sit. You can see them better.”

  Lexie stepped back and motioned Kelsey to take the seat, then clicked on the tab. The slide show began, the park, wood grain, tree bark, flowers so close a bee was caught gathering pollen.

  Kelsey gazed at the monitor. “These are really good.”

  Standing behind her, Lexie nodded, for once feeling like any proud mother. Not proud because Cooper hadn’t complained during his chemo treatments or how good he was when he was denied attending school, but a normal pride of her son with a talent she hadn’t known about.

  The photos moved past, and Lexie chuckled at the number of shots Cooper had taken. Then her eyes widened, and Lexie couldn’t do a thing. The photograph moved from the closeup of Cooper with Ethan to one of her and Ethan nestled together, his arm evident around her back.

  Kelsey stared
at the photo for a moment before she pivoted and grinned. “Hmm? The big brother relationship has definitely grown into something more.”

  Why had she forgotten the photo? Lexie wanted to explain, but words and thoughts muddled into her mind like a rock pile. She shifted one way and was tripped up by a boulder, then moved another and slipped on the stones. The fall hurt. “I’m not hiding anything. I don’t know what our relationship is.” She closed her eyes and pictured them together. “It’s started as a friendship, and that’s what it is now. He’s done nothing that leads me to believe it’s any more than that.”

  Kelsey’s teasing grin sobered. “And you’re disappointed.”

  “Sometimes.” She studied the carpet wishing she had clearer thoughts. “Then I think it’s good. Cooper’s my priority. I don’t have time to split my attention with anyone else, and I don’t know of any man or woman who wants that kind of relationship.”

  “Someone with a good heart would. Someone who loves you both.”

  Her lungs constricted. “Maybe, but he’s not there. Not love.”

  “Not yet, but don’t toss it away, Lexie. Keep your heart open.” She rose and embraced her. “Life is lonely sometimes, and when Cooper’s well and involved with school and his life, you could be sitting on the sidelines asking yourself what happened.”

  “The thought of Cooper being well is all I need right now.”

  Kelsey released a stream of air. “I know. I’ve been there so often.” She stepped back and drew up her shoulders. “I don’t want you to close yourself from possibilities. Just be open.”

  “I’ll try. I have dreams, too. I don’t have a heart of stone.”

  A chuckle hit Lexie’s ears. “You have a heart of gold. I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t respect you.”

  Respect. The conversation released another lingering thought. “This is a different subject, but I do have a question.”

  Kelsey studied her a minute. “Okay.”

  “You’re a Christian.”

  “Sure am, and I know you question my faith, but that doesn’t—”

  “I’m not challenging you. I know you care about me despite that.” She tried to untangle her thoughts. “When I was talking with Ethan, I asked him how he could believe and still accept that God allowed his wife to die, and he said he didn’t question God because God was infinite and knew what was going to happen, that God had a reason for doing things.”