Ethan stepped from his SUV and eyed the house in front of him, a terra-cotta-colored brick bungalow, typical of many of the homes he’d passed in Clawson, but this one had a generous porch across the front, adding to its charm. Large tapered columns with timber detailing supported the porch roof, and above rose one gable with a double window. A large maple tree stood in the center of the small yard, its leaves giving a hint that spring had arrived.
His talk with Bill had resolved some of his issues, and he wanted to put it in God’s hands. When more than a week passed without a word from Lexie, he chalked it up to the Lord wanting him to back off or maybe telling him he’d been too forward. The woman had a sick child and didn’t have time for a stranger. But he’d been wrong. Her phone call had surprised him, and her message even more. Cooper was anxious to meet him.
He leaned back into the car and pulled out the paper bag with the local bookstore logo. The boy loved books, and Ethan wanted to give him a small gift when they met. A book seemed perfect. He shut the door, hit the remote’s lock button and headed up the concrete walk. When he stepped onto the porch, he noticed a vaulted ceiling over the door. Being a contractor, he couldn’t help but appreciate the quality of the building.
When he reached for the bell, the door opened, revealing Lexie standing inside the entry. Her pleasant expression didn’t hide a hint of uneasiness.
She pushed open the door. “Come in. Cooper’s driving me crazy. He’s been counting the hours.”
The weight of Ethan’s action struck him. Lexie’s love of her son, the joy on her face when she talked about him, had piqued his interest, but he’d given no consideration to what the child might expect of him. He had little to offer a sick child, but he’d wanted to meet the boy who lived under the burden of a tragic illness and somehow remained eager to read books and loved faraway places. His confidence sank to his stomach.
He held out the gift bag. “I brought Cooper a present. I hope that’s okay.”
She gazed at the package. “That was thoughtful. You should give it to him yourself.” She tilted her head to the right. “He’s in the den doing his homework.”
Ethan looked past the staircase to the living room with a fireplace centered across the room flanked by two windows and below them, window seats. The homey feeling warmed him. Through the archway, he viewed a dining room with another room beyond that was closed off by beveled glass doors. The den he guessed. “Nice house, Lexie. Large and open. You can’t appreciate the size from the outside.”
“It does fool you, doesn’t it.” She strode ahead of him, and as they passed through the dining room, he noticed the sunny kitchen with a large island and a plethora of cabinets.
She pushed the glass doors, and they slid into the wall. When he followed her inside, he was taken with Cooper. The boy’s face radiated when he looked up. Though Cooper was bald, Ethan could imagine the boy with satiny brown hair like his mother’s. And he had her eyes—a bit darker blue, but with the same inquisitive depth.
“Hi, Cooper.” He strode toward the sofa. “I’m Ethan Fox.”
Cooper’s eyes shifted to the package in Ethan’s hand. When he looked up, he grinned. “I have leukemia. That’s why I’m bald.” He demonstrated by rubbing his scalp. “But I feel good.”
“I’m glad.”
He glanced over his shoulder to see if Lexie had left. She waited near the doorway, watching them. Unexpected discomfort rattled his confidence again, and he questioned once more why he had asked to meet the child.
Cooper patted the cushion beside him. “Can you do math?”
Hearing the boy’s eagerness, Ethan dislodged his confusion. “I’m pretty good with arithmetic. I’m a contractor, and I need math in my work. Do you know what a contractor is?”
A frown settled on the boy’s face, and he shook his head.
Ethan sank into the cushion beside him and tucked the package between his leg and the sofa arm. “I help people decide what kind of new home they want me to build.”
“You can build a house?” His eyes widened as his gaze swung around the room. “By yourself?”
“We have crews. Lots of men who build them, and sometimes I help people design additions to their houses.” He gestured to the room. “But this house doesn’t need any improvement. It’s good just as it is.”
“We could have a library in it.”
Ethan’s pulse skipped. “Yes, I suppose you could.” He scanned the one long wall across from the large side window. “This room could have been a library. See that wall? It could be filled with shelves.”
Cooper leaned over as if he could get a better view of the wall. He eyed it for a moment. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
A laugh burst from Ethan. “I don’t think your mom wants me redecorating your house.”
“Can we, Mom?”
Lexie stepped through the doorway. “Not today, Cooper.” She stood above them and grinned. “Did you want Mr. Fox to check your math?”
He nodded, and the library topic appeared to sail from his mind. He handed Ethan his workbook and pencil. “This is subtraction.”
“It is.” Ethan scanned the page. “Excellent. Not one wrong.”
The boy beamed. “Mr. Fox said they’re all right.”
“I heard him. That’s great.”
“I think that deserves a present. What to you think, Cooper?” Ethan pulled the package from beside him and extended it.
“Mr. Fox brought me a present, Mom.” He eyed his mother as if asking if it was all right to accept the gift.
“I know.” She nodded. “You can open it.”
Cooper reached for the bag, but Ethan didn’t let go. “But only if you call me Ethan.”
Again Cooper looked at Lexie for approval. She nodded, and Ethan slipped the package into the boy’s hands. He pulled open the bag and a smile filled his face. “A book.” He held the gift into the air. “Look, Mom.”
She nodded, appreciation fluttering on her face.
“I like books.”
Ethan’s heart warmed. “I know. Your mom told me.”
“You did?” He grinned at his mother who nodded back.
Ethan didn’t notice when Lexie slipped from the room. Cooper opened the book, and they sat side by side, mesmerized by the photographs and brief descriptions of insects and flowers, lovely close-ups that provided minute details. His chest tightened as he listened to the boy talk about the pictures and sound out the larger words. He read well, very well for a boy his age, and Ethan understood why Lexie extolled her son’s ability. A sweet child. So special Ethan ached.
The ringing telephone jarred his ears, but it stopped after the first ring. Lexie must have taken the call, and he pulled his mind back to Cooper and pondered what he could do for him. How could he make the boy’s healthy days more pleasant? What fun things could a man do with a child being treated for leukemia?
And then Lexie slipped into his mind. Nervous but open, that’s how she’d greeted him. She’d opened the door of her home to a virtual stranger, trusting that he wanted the best for her son. And he did. Life wasn’t always fair, but he couldn’t question the Lord’s purpose. Too often he wanted to. He remembered a book about why bad things happened to good people. That was the question that charged through his mind today.
“Are these drawings?”
Ethan jerked from his thoughts. “No. They’re photographs. People took them with a camera.”
“So close?”
He nodded. “They’re called close-ups.”
“I like close-ups.” He leaned his head back against the cushion.
The boy’s action stirred Ethan’s concern. “Are you tired?”
He shook his head no, but Ethan read his expression. “Why don’t you rest awhile? The book is yours so you don’t have to look at the whole thing today.”
“He’s right, Coop.” Lexie strode across the carpet, her look tender. But a dark shadow had settled in her eyes.
Ethan rose. He needed to leave now and not be a nuisance, even though he wanted to stay. The longing flustered him.
Cooper drew his legs onto the sofa. “My birthday is coming in a week. Will you come to my party?”
Ethan froze in place. When he thawed enough to think, he sought Lexie’s eyes.
She gave a faint nod. “You’re very welcome, but don’t feel you have to. Cooper gets overenthusiastic sometimes.”
Ethan didn’t blame the boy. His life revolved around treatments and doctor’s offices and not being able to go to school. A birthday party held promise of presents and cake and fun. “I wouldn’t miss it.” The words had flown from his mouth without him weighing them.
Lexie took the book from Cooper and tossed a pillow beside the arm of the sofa. “I want you to lie down, okay?”
Cooper gave a resigned nod and wiggled around until he had curled up into a ball with his head on the pillow. Lexie took a throw from the back of the sofa and spread it over him, then looked at Ethan. “I’ll let Ethan know when the party is later, Coop.”
“Okay.” He gazed up at Ethan with heavy-lidded eyes. “Thanks for the present.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Lexie strode toward the doorway and Ethan followed. He sensed something caused her change of mood and hoped it wasn’t something he’d said or done. Outside the room, she slid the door closed and continued to the kitchen. Ethan paused, not knowing if he should say goodbye or follow her. He chose the latter.
She began mixing something in a bowl without looking behind her.
Ethan shifted one of the stools sitting next to the island and slid onto it. “Did I do something wrong?”
She lowered her spoon to the counter before she turned. Moisture clung to her lower lashes. “No. You’ve been very kind. I know Coop loved the book.”
“Then what’s…” Ethan searched her face. He should respect her privacy, but his unwilling heart prodded him onward. “You’re upset. Can I do anything?”
A faint shake of her head gave him the answer.
“I suppose I should go then, and let you be alone.” He slipped from the stool and placed it beneath the island bar.
“You don’t have to go.”
He faltered, juggling the questions vying in his mind until he gave in and asked. “The telephone call? Was it bad news?”
She closed her eyes. “I’ll deal with it. So will Coop. We always do, but when we hear his test results, I often get discouraged until I get a grip on myself.”
“You can’t lambast yourself for that.” He stepped to her side and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Seeing that wonderful kid sick tears me up, and I don’t really know him. He’s great. So bright and eager. I admire your strength. I don’t know if I would be that strong.”
“You were once.”
Laine’s struggle dropped into his mind. “I managed, but not like you.” The warmth of her body traveled from his palm up his arm. His chest tightened with the closeness, and he forced his hand from her shoulder and stepped back. His lungs tugged for air. Ridiculous. It made no sense at all. He barely knew these people.
He wandered back to the island and leaned against it, keeping his distance before he did something he’d be sorry for. “When my wife, Laine, wasn’t around to see me, I’d kick at stones and throw things that got in my way. I felt tremendous anger. God and I stood on opposite sides of the line. I was furious with Him.” He lowered his head. “I hate to admit that.”
Lexie shifted to the island and rested her elbows on the surface, the work top separating them. “Really? I have a difficult time imagining that. You seem to be a man with a lot of faith. Picturing you angry doesn’t fit.”
“It doesn’t. But Christians are human like anyone. The belief doesn’t keep us from falling prey to our own wants and our own time frame.” He watched her drink in all that he’d said. “But I learned from it, too. I learned that the Lord promises to be by our side through the good and the bad. And He has been. I learned that God’s time and mine are different. Things don’t always go as I want them, but through it all, He’s there. I only learned that when I quieted and listened. As Laine’s disease worsened, I grasped those times and hung on.”
Lexie closed her eyes, her full lips pressed together as if to keep herself from speaking. When she opened them, she drew in a breath. “I think I understand what you mean. It’s when you stop fighting that help comes.”
So simple and exactly what he was trying to say. Ethan rested the flat of his hands on the island bar. “Let me take my own advice. I’ll be quiet and listen. What did the oncologist say?”
“Cooper’s cell count doesn’t look good.” She ran her knuckle below her eyes, collecting the moisture that had formed while she talked. “Now he’ll be dealing with heavy-duty treatments, and the oncologist said they’ll try some new medication that can have adverse effects on Cooper, and next week is his birthday. He’s so looking forward to it.”
Ethan longed to hold Lexie in his arms and make things better. He longed to help Cooper become healthy again, but what he wanted didn’t count. What the Lord wanted did. He sent up a silent prayer.
“So that’s why Coop’s birthday is up in the air. I don’t know when we can celebrate it, but whatever we do, I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll be happy to come. Just call me when you decide.” His mind wrapped around the moment, wanting to say so much more, but cautioning himself, he took the chance. “I’ll be praying for Coop’s treatment and for your peace of mind.”
She gazed at him without shifting an eye. “Thank you. I realize prayer means a lot to you, and it can’t hurt, can it?”
“Not one bit.” His hopes soared as he looked into her beautiful eyes.
“If there is a God, He’ll hear you, and if there isn’t, then it doesn’t matter.”
The impact of her remark struck him like a kick in the gut. He stopped himself from responding. Too much too soon. He had to let it go. Lexie was honest and direct. If he planned to be around her, he had to accept her the way she was. The comment wasn’t an attack on him. She’d only stated her viewpoint.
But he didn’t have to like it.
Lexie sat in front of her computer, her mind on everything but the CD cover design she’d been trying to work on for the past hour. Cooper’s birthday was this Thursday, and with his new treatment happening that morning of all things, she hesitated inviting anyone to come. Ethan’s image hovered in her mind while her pulse raced.
She’d liked him from the day they’d met, but seeing him with Cooper added to her attraction. Ethan demonstrated a heart of compassion and a spirit of generosity. The book he’d given to her son couldn’t have been a better choice. Ethan had really listened to her when she’d talked about Cooper’s interests, and that struck her as amazing.
She stared at the computer screen, eyeing the third layer of a cover design for a new children’s DVD. Besides the opportunity to work at home, the career gave her a decent income. Nothing spectacular, but she could pay her bills and pay for their needs. She’d even saved a little when her work was in full swing. With Cooper’s illness, she’d had to slow down, and though her parents had not been kind about her becoming pregnant without being married, they had come around when Coop was born.
Arizona eased the tension between them. Tucson and Clawson, Michigan, were separated by thousands of miles, and under the circumstances, Lexie accepted the distance with gratification. She and her parents clashed too much when they were together for any length of time. Yet despite their attitude, they had softened somewhat when Cooper came along. They’d even come for a visit and brought along gifts for their grandson.
Yesterday Cooper’s birthday package from them had arrived. Though he seemed happy to see the gifts, his birthday had taken a backseat to the treatment he’d had at the end of last week. How much could a child take? And now he faced another. Her chest tightened as tears moistened her eyes. Lexie rolled back her chair and left the den. She strode to the staircase. Drawing in a breath, she climbed the steps and made her way through the large play area in the upstairs foyer to Cooper’s bedroom.
Standing in the doorway, she eyed him, pale and silent against the pillow. Lexie tiptoed across the room and gazed at him. A new bruise darkened the arm that stuck out from beneath the blanket. Anger weighted against her loving heart. Her beautiful boy carried the burden of her mistake. No matter how much she tried to see the positive and talk herself out of those feelings, they hammered at her each time she watched him suffer. And Cooper suffered in silence.
She bent over him and placed her hand against his forehead. Warm, but not hot. Relief washed through her. Watching for infection, excessive bruising, anemia and a multitude of other signs kept her vigilant. The quicker his treatment could correct any oncoming problem the better.
Lexie picked up the soup bowl and spoon, then backed away, seeing the easy rise and fall of Cooper’s chest against the blanket. He needed sleep as much as she needed to hold him in her arms. Turning, she tiptoed across the room and headed downstairs.
After rinsing the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher, she leaned against the counter. May 6 was the day Cooper was born. The moment she’d looked into his tiny face lived in her memory as a treasure. Everything else paled against the happiness she felt with her son in her arms. No matter how difficult life became she would never lose that joy.
She closed her eyes, clinging to those memories. When she opened them, Lexie strode to the refrigerator. She’d lost her appetite following Coop’s chemotherapy as much as he did, but she had to keep herself healthy for him. She opened the door and pulled an apple from the fruit drawer. She bit into the firm flesh of the fruit. The sweet taste filled her mouth as she snatched a napkin and headed back to the den and her computer.
When she settled back into her chair, she eyed the telephone. Ethan. She promised to call him. No big party for Cooper this year unless his next treatment went dramatically better. Lexie lifted Ethan’s business card laying next to the telephone and gazed at his number.
Since meeting him, Lexie realized someone besides Cooper now occupied her mind. Though she’d always been careful with people, especially ones she’d just met, Ethan’s presence felt as comfortable as her favorite slippers. At first she questioned his motivation, but after his visit and seeing him with Cooper, she had a change of heart. Ethan exemplified what it meant to be a nice person. And that’s what still caused concern. He talked about God and faith. Religion seemed a big part of his life. She hadn’t read the Bible or attended church. She and Ethan were different, but she knew what good attributes were and Ethan had them.
When she questioned his motivation, she’d asked herself if his religion was why he’d been so kind to them. But reality finally settled in. No relationship could last based on a person needing to be kind. That had nothing to do with wanting or enjoying the relationship. She needed to pay taxes but that didn’t bring her happiness. If Ethan needed to be kind because the Bible told him to, then he did it to please God and not himself. That motivation alone didn’t seem to fit Ethan.
She shook her head, wishing she could make sense out of her thoughts. What did faith really mean? Often she longed to have something fill the hollow feeling that groaned in the pit of her stomach. Cooper gave her happiness, but she yearned for a kind of fulfillment she’d never had. A sense of completeness. Maybe that was it.
Glancing down at her hand, she focused on the business card and made her decision. She lifted the receiver and punched in Ethan’s number. After three rings, she shifted to hang up and then heard the connection and his voice. “This is Lexie. I should have called you sooner, but—”
“Don’t apologize. I’m really glad to hear from you. How’s Cooper? I’ve been worried.”
The answer caught in her throat. “I wish the news were better. He’s having a bad time with his last treatment, and he has another one Thursday, but soon he’ll be up and good again. I just need to be patient.”
“I’m sorry he’s having problems.”
She swallowed. “His birthday is Thursday, but under the circumstances, I’m not planning a real party. He’ll be weak, and he’ll sleep after the treatment.”
“That’s too bad.” He left a lengthy pause. “Could do something smaller.”
Disappointment flattened his voice. He truly cared. Not having a party disappointed her, too, as it would Cooper. And she would have enjoyed getting to know Ethan better. He dropped into her thoughts too often. “We’ll still celebrate in our quiet way. I’ll bake him a cake.”
“I like cake.”
Lexie stared at the receiver, hearing him say what her heart wanted to hear. “Are you saying you’d like to come over anyway?”
“Definitely. I’ve already bought his gift.”
“A gift? Ethan, you already gave him the book. That was a wonderful present.”
“But it didn’t come with a happy birthday card.”
A grin cracked the tension in her face. “That’s true.” But her mind still grappled with negative thoughts. Yes or no? Encourage? Discourage? Despite the warnings that lodged in her head, she liked Ethan. She pried herself from the trench and went with her heart. “Come over about six. I’ll make dinner.”
“I hinted for cake. I didn’t expect a meal.”
Her grin deepened. “That’s all the better. Is six good for you?”
“It’s perfect.”
“Then we’ll see you on Thursday. Cooper may be sick, but when I tell him you’ll be here, he’ll be ecstatic. You and the book have been the topic of conversation since you were here.”
“Really?”
His tone had changed, and she didn’t like the sound. She’d made a mistake telling him how much Cooper thought of him. “You know kids. They love attention.” She hoped that softened what she’d said.
“Yes, I suppose they do.”
Silence settled over the line, and Lexie clung to the receiver wishing she’d kept her mouth shut about Cooper’s excitement.
“I’ll see you on Thursday at six then. And, Lexie, thanks for the invitation.”
“You’re welcome.” She lowered the receiver and leaned back in the chair. Whatever she’d said had dampened the situation. Moments earlier the conversation had caused her to grin, and she hadn’t done that in days.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.