The Boy Who Made Them Love Again

by Scarlet Wilson

  But now there was something much more important at stake. This wasn’t just about him. He already felt a connection to Abby and Reuben that he could never have imagined. He couldn’t have seen more pain in Abby’s face if he’d ripped her heart out with a spoon. Biological child or not, she was Reuben’s mother. In every way that mattered.

  But where did that leave him?

  Abby resisted the temptation to run along the path at top speed, get Reuben home and strip his clothes off in a flash. He was very perceptive to her mood and she didn’t want to do anything to alarm him. Anything to let him think he was sick again.

  Reuben cuddled into her chest as the wind picked up. Was he tired? Was it another symptom that she’d missed?

  He was so light in her arms. Had he lost weight?

  As they approached the house his blond head picked up. ‘Let me down, Mommy, I want a shot on the slide.’

  He wriggled free from her arms and ran off towards the slide, climbing the steps at a rate of knots and slipping down the slide. ‘Wheeeee …’

  He wasn’t tired. He had as much energy as ever. She reached for his hand as he slid down for a second time. ‘Let’s go in and get changed, Reuben.’

  He stared down at his jogging trousers and T-shirt. ‘What’s wrong with these?’

  She pointed to a few chocolate stains and an earlier smattering of blood. ‘They’re all dirty. Lets get some nice clean clothes on.’

  ‘I’ll choose, I’ll choose,’ he shouted as he mounted the steps at the front of the house.

  Abby turned the lock on the front door. ‘Race you upstairs,’ she said, as she dumped her bag in the corridor and watched him disappear ahead of her. By the time she reached Reuben’s room, he’d already pulled a rainbow’s worth of T-shirts from one of his drawers. ‘Red—no, yellow—no, green,’ he said at the array of clothing at his feet.

  Her heart was pounding in her chest. She knelt down before him. ‘Okay, pumpkin, lift your arms.’

  Reuben automatically raised his hands above his head as she pulled the T-shirt up. She was holding her breath as her eyes swept over his torso. ‘Turn around, honey,’ she instructed, and he dutifully spun round. Nothing. There was nothing there. No bruises. No blotches. Nothing to worry her. She felt the air leave her lungs.

  ‘Let’s take these dirty trousers off too.’ She pulled at the elastic waistband on the joggers, sliding them downwards, and drew in her breath sharply.

  Three. There were three angry purple bruises that hadn’t been there that morning. Bruises that, if she’d seen them on any other child, she would have thought were a few days old.

  Reuben’s eyes followed hers. ‘Wow! Look, Mommy, where did they come from?’ He dropped to the floor, his spread-out legs filling him with wonder. He prodded at the purple bruises. ‘They don’t hurt.’

  Abby caught his hand. ‘Don’t do that, honey.’ She pulled him over into her arms for a cuddle. Her hand automatically went to his head and stroked his hair in a soothing motion. ‘Mommy’s going to have to put some magic cream on your arms again.’

  Reuben wrinkled his nose. ‘Not blood tests,’ he groaned. His childlike brain was filling in the gaps. He shook his head determinedly. ‘I don’t need any.’

  ‘I’m sorry, honey. But Mommy has to take some blood to make sure you’re okay.’

  ‘No.’ He stamped his foot on the floor.

  It broke her heart. Reuben had already spent too many of his young hours in hospitals. The last thing she wanted to do was make him go back. But her paediatric head was screaming at her. This could be the first sign he was out of remission. She tried to take a step back and look at him through professional eyes.

  He wasn’t breathless. He had a good appetite. He hadn’t complained of any bone or joint pains. She ran her hands over his body, looking for lumps in the neck, underarms or groin. Nothing.

  But he was pale. But Reuben was always pale. Was he paler than normal?

  ‘Let’s get some clean clothes on.’ She picked up one of the T-shirts from the floor. ‘Now, which colour? Red or blue?’

  ‘Blue,’ he shouted, and she pulled it quickly over his head. Her hands hesitated over the drawer, nearly pulling out a pair of shorts, before stopping and finding another pair of joggers instead. She couldn’t bear the thought of staring at those purple bruises all evening and what they might mean.

  ‘Mommy needs to make a phone call, honey. Let’s go down to the kitchen and get a snack. Do you want to watch some cartoons?’ Anything to keep him occupied while she phoned the paediatric oncologist. She already knew what he’d say. He’d want blood tests and a bone-marrow aspiration. A procedure that Reuben hated.

  Blood tests she could do. The bone-marrow aspiration would have to be done elsewhere. She’d have to arrange a few days off.

  Abby continued on autopilot for the rest of the day. It was almost a relief when Luke walked through the door at six o’clock, because it gave her an excuse to focus on something else.

  ‘Hi, Luke, dinner is just about ready. Go and wash up.’

  Luke took in the forced happiness and smile that seemed to be pasted on her face. All he could see was the stress she was putting herself under.

  He hung his jacket on the coat stand behind the door and crossed over to the kitchen window next to her. With no attempt to hide his intentions, his arms caught her in a hug as he dropped a kiss on her head. ‘How are you?’

  He caught the shiver that ran down her spine. Her voice was tight. ‘Just what you’d expect. I’ve drawn the bloods and spoken to the oncologist. I’ll take him to San Francisco on Thursday for his bone marrow.’

  Thursday, two days away. Probably the quickest they could arrange it.

  ‘Have you told him?’

  ‘No.’ Her voice cracked. ‘But he’s not stupid. He’s been through all this before. Sometimes he seems so much older than four.’ Her voice drifted off as she gazed out the window. ‘But, then again, he’s been through much more than the average four-year-old.’

  Luke moved away from the worktop, sitting down on the comfortable easy chair that faced onto the garden and pulling her onto his lap. ‘And how are you, Abby?’ he asked again.

  ‘I’ll be fine.’ Her face was still fixed towards the garden. It was apparent to him that she couldn’t look at him.

  ‘You don’t need to go through this on your own. I’m right here.’ His voice was deep, rich and reassuring.

  ‘But you’re not here, Luke.’ Her head whipped around towards him, two pink spots appearing on her cheeks. ‘This is just a coincidence. In another two days you’ll be flying off to your jet-set lifestyle in DC. And I’ll be taking my little boy for a test that he absolutely hates.’

  She was angry. She was angry that he was trying to comfort her, trying to help. He wasn’t helping. He was confusing things for her. She needed to focus on Reuben. She needed to focus on her son.

  Luke took a deep breath. The Abby Tyler he’d known had always coped with everything. Nothing had fazed her. But the Abby Tyler he’d known hadn’t had a child with ALL. A child who could come out of remission at any point.

  He took her hand in his. ‘I’m here now, Abby. Why don’t we just focus on that? Stop imagining what could happen, because the doctor in you will always consider the worst-case scenario. These last two days have been the most …’ his eyes lifted upwards as he searched for the word ‘…interesting I’ve had in the last five years.’ His other hand lifted to her face, pushing a wayward blonde lock back behind her ear so he could see the whole of her face. The whole of her.

  ‘Our timing really sucks. But maybe you’re not the only one who needed to re-evaluate their life. Maybe seeing you here, like this, has been just the kick up the butt that I needed.’

  He glanced into the living room, where Reuben was sitting on the bright rug in front of the television, watching cartoons to his heart’s content. ‘He is the luckiest little boy in the world, and that’s because he’s got you.’

  ‘Bu
t what happens if I’m not enough? What happens if I can’t be strong enough for him?’ Her voice was trembling and one large tear trickled down her cheek and dripped from her chin.

  ‘You will be, Abby, and you are. You always will be.’

  He stood up and walked towards the old range cooker. He could have said something completely different there. But he had to be sure about how he felt. He had to know if he could do this all over again. Maybe in a few days …

  ‘What this?’ He bent over the large crock-pot, lifting the lid and pulling back at the escaping steam.

  Abby rubbed her eyes, conscious of the obvious subject change. ‘It’s our “something special”. Reuben adds everything he likes from the fridge and the pantry.’ She leaned over and gave it a stir with a wooden spoon before shrugging her shoulders. ‘Usually it’s not too bad—some chicken, potatoes, carrot, turnip and some kind of stock. But today Reuben decided his magic ingredient was a can of baked beans.’ She gave a little shiver. ‘Needless to say, you’ll be getting the biggest portion.’

  Luke leaned back against the worktop, a grimace on his face. ‘I’m sure it’ll be delicious.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘What else can I smell?’ He bent downwards and peered through the oven door. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Marshmallow and chocolate loaf.’

  He raised his eyebrow at her. ‘That sounds healthy.’

  She snapped her tea towel at him. ‘Shut up. It’s comfort food for me. I need it.’

  Luke gave a little nod and folded his arms across his chest. ‘I know someone else who could use a little comfort food.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jennifer Taylor. She’s climbing the walls in there.’ He nodded his head up towards the hospital. ‘She asked if you would drop in and see her later.’ His voice dropped slightly, ‘Obviously I never told her anything about Reuben.’

  Abby’s head turned towards the living room where Reuben was sitting. ‘But I can’t. I need to—’

  He placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘You need to take a break and go eat your comfort food with someone else. I’ll watch Reuben. Why don’t you go along after dinner and take your mind off things?’

  She shot him a look of exasperation.

  ‘I know, I know, but a change of scene might do you some good.’

  A loud, belly laugh came from next door. Something in the cartoon had caught Reuben’s imagination and filled the house with little-boy laughter. The sound twisted in her gut, bringing yet another tear to her eye. How much longer would she be able to hear it? Maybe Luke was right. Maybe she did need a break—even if it was only for half an hour.

  She sighed. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ She looked towards the front door. ‘A walk along the path might clear my head a little. And it might be nice to offer Jennifer some support. I don’t suppose James Turner is a bundle of laughs.’

  It only took her five minutes to wander back along the coastal path to the hospital. She could probably have been quicker if she hadn’t stopped to pick some flowers from her garden for Jennifer.

  The hospital seemed pretty quiet, with only the black sporadically placed mumbling men giving any hint that anything out the ordinary was happening.

  The man at the door gave her a little nod and moved to the side as she entered. Jennifer was lying on her side, watching television, still attached to the drip and looking bored to tears.

  ‘Abby!’ she said, sitting up in bed and reaching for the remote control.

  ‘Hi, Jennifer. Luke said you were a little bored, so I thought I’d come and see you.’ Abby sat down on the bed beside her and glanced at the pile of books and DVDs on the bedside table. ‘How many of these have you read?’

  Jennifer gave a guilty smile, as if she were a teenager caught out misbehaving. ‘I’ve watched all the DVDs but don’t take them away—I’ll watch them again. And I’ve only got one book left to read. I’m a sucker for romance novels.’

  Abby ran her eyes up the pile of books then looked at her in amazement. ‘You’ve read all those books already?’

  Jennifer shrugged. ‘Reading is my passion. I just never normally get the time to do it.’ She shuffled some of the books out of the way to make room for Abby’s package. ‘What’s this?’ She inhaled deeply, catching the whiff of melted chocolate and marshmallows. ‘It smells gorgeous.’ She unwrapped the tea towel surrounding it, letting the aroma fill the room. ‘Whoa!’

  Abby gave her a little smile. ‘Comfort food. Thought you might want to eat it with me.’ She lifted the bunch of flowers in her hand. ‘I brought you some flowers too, but I see that everyone else had the same idea.’

  Every available space in the room was filled with exuberant displays of multicoloured flowers. Jennifer waved her hand at them. ‘They look gorgeous, but most of them have no perfume.’ She took the bunch from Abby’s hand. ‘Now, these …’ she inhaled ‘…smell wonderful.’ She lay back against her pillows, a tiny little crease forming across her forehead. ‘So what do you need comfort food for, Abby Tyler?’

  Abby bit her bottom lip and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t possibly tell her the real reason. She couldn’t even get her head around the thought that Reuben might be unwell again, so the last thing she wanted to do was speculate. Not when there was another, easier answer she could give Jennifer. She gave her a little smile. ‘It’s not easy, living under the same roof as your ex again.’

  A gleam appeared in Jennifer’s eyes. ‘Oh, do tell. This place has been mind-numbingly boring today.’

  Abby unpacked a blunt knife and started cutting the marshmallow and chocolate loaf. She pointed to Jennifer’s belly. ‘You tell first. Any sign of Junior making an appearance yet?’

  Jennifer swung her legs off the bed and switched on a latte machine in the corner of the room. She laughed at Abby’s raised eyebrows. ‘It’s the only perk I’ve got, okay?’ She gave her hip a little rub. ‘Nothing’s happening at all. Nothing. Nada. They gave me some steroids today to help mature Junior’s lungs.’ She pointed a finger at Abby. ‘And you’re in big trouble, Dr Tyler, for not telling me how much that would sting!’

  Abby laughed. ‘Oops, sorry, I might have forgotten to mention that.’

  Jennifer shook her head in disgust. ‘Sure you did. They gave me some more antibiotics as well.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘And there’s only been the tiniest trickle today, so I guess that must be good.’ She pressed a few buttons on the machine as Abby put the loaf onto some plates.

  A few seconds later Jennifer handed a steaming mug to her. ‘Don’t get too excited. It’s a caffeine-free latte.’ A smile crept across her face as she eyed the gooey melted marshmallows and chocolate. ‘Now, this is what I call comfort food.’ She took a big bite. ‘Yum.’

  Abby nodded as she took a sip of the coffee. ‘I agree. So what can I do to liven this place up for you?’ She nodded at all the flowers. ‘Does anyone know that you’re here? I haven’t seen any reporters or television crews about.’

  ‘No, no. They’re just from my husband and his few “closest” aides. Hopefully we’ll get this baby safely out before the newshounds get wind of it.’ She settled back against her pillows again. ‘What’s the story with Lincoln Adams? He’s a friend of yours, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he is.’ The oozing, warm marshmallow melted in her mouth. Yup. Luke had been right, this was definitely making her feel better.

  ‘How come a man as handsome as that looks so incredibly sad? Have I dragged him away from his wife and children? Is he unhappy about looking after me?’ Her brow was furrowed.

  Abby shrugged her shoulders. ‘To be honest, Linc hasn’t said much since he’s been here. But his mood …it’s been like that for a while. I’m not sure what’s going on with him.’ And she hadn’t asked him either. What with the First Lady being in her hospital, her ex appearing and now Reuben’s bruising, she hadn’t even thought to ask Linc what was wrong. Some friend she was. Maybe it was time she sat him down for a chat? She made a mental note to do that and changed the subj
ect rapidly, ‘What do you think of David Fairgreaves?’

  Jennifer broke into a big smile. ‘Oh, I love him! He’s just like a grumpy old man. You should hear the way he talks to James Turner. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone be so indifferent towards him. Sometimes he just completely ignores him.’ She took another bite from her loaf. ‘You know what? I’m going to pack him up in a big box and take him back to Washington with me.’

  ‘It’s going to have to be a pretty big box.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘He doesn’t go anywhere without that fishing boat.’

  The door was pushed open and James Turner stuck his head inside, to be met by instant laughter from the two women. ‘Just checking on you, Mrs Taylor.’ He caught sight of the sticky mess on the plates and rolled his eyes at Abby. ‘But I see that Dr Bad Influence has already got things under control.’

  ‘She certainly has, Mr Turner.’ Jennifer licked her fingers. ‘Best medicine I’ve had since I got here, Abby.’ She glanced over to the windows, her gaze settling on the ocean view. ‘You know, Pelican Cove’s not too shabby. I get so swept up in living in a big city that I forget about the small-town stuff. I think this has done me the world of good.’

  ‘How so?’

  She dropped her hands down on the bed. ‘Well, it’s certainly been restful.’ She rolled her eyes at Abby. ‘I probably wasn’t resting the way I should have been.’ Her hands lay on top of her stomach. ‘Now, seriously, I need to ask you something.’

  Abby lifted her head. ‘What is it?’

  Jennifer’s brow wrinkled. ‘Well, actually, David Fairgreaves told me to speak to you. I asked him about umbilical stem cells. He told me a little but he said to ask you. How come? I thought he was the world-renowned expert on it all.’

  Abby gave a slow smile. ‘He is. But it’s his “baby”. He knows so much about it all he tends to get all technical when he talks about it. He wouldn’t want to get carried away and blind you with science. Plus, he’d be worried that you wouldn’t consider him to be impartial. And because he’s so enthusiastic about the subject, it’s easy to see why. Were you thinking about collecting the cells?’