Читать книгу A Family of Their Own - Gail Martin Gaymer - Страница 8

Ross sat in the hospital waiting room while Peyton had a heart echo and an MRI. The clock hands inched around the face while his mind moved at the same pace. He stared at his cell phone, Kelsey’s phone number in his hand. He’d been adventurous enough to ask her to dinner, but today his enthusiasm faded. Her blunt responses and quick honesty challenged him to respond as she did—in an open and direct manner. He couldn’t.

On the other hand, he enjoyed her company and personal enjoyment was something he’d hooked to an anchor and dropped into Lake St. Clair. Boats disappeared in that lake, and their occupants were never located. He thought his anchor would never be found, but it rose to the surface five days ago when he laid eyes on Kelsey.

He glanced at the clock again. Peyton’s tests never took this long. The heel of his shoe tapped against the shining marble floor of the heart unit. He pressed his dry lips together and refocused on the cell phone. He needed a distraction. And good news. Checking the numbers she’d scribbled on the notepaper, he punched them in and waited.

Three rings. Four. Leave a message or not? His question vanished when he heard the connection. “Kelsey, this is Ross.” “Ross.”

He waited, the sound of her surprise ringing in his ears. “I called to set a date for dinner.” Maybe he should have suggested coffee. “Whatever time is best for you.”

Silence. Ross could almost feel the electrical current zinging in her brain.

“I—I’m not sure this is a good time to make plans.”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Is Lucy ill?”

“No. But things are hectic here.”

Hectic? He could read her thoughts as he listened to silence.

Kelsey cleared her throat. “Lucy’s decided to get more involved at school, and between my job, running her places and keeping an eye on her health, I—”

“You’re tired.” He knew the routine, and he didn’t want to hear her excuses. She’d done what he suspected and had second thoughts. “I’ve been sitting at the hospital for nearly two hours waiting while Peyton has some tests.”

“I hate waiting. Time drags horribly.” The tension in her tone had eased.

Ross shifted in the chair. “Magazines aren’t great company.”

“So true.”

Silence.

“Ross, I’m sorry we didn’t finish our conversation about Peyton. I don’t even know what kind of illness she has.”

The word stuck in his throat. He sucked in air. “Cardiomyopathy.”

A gasp echoed into the receiver. “I’m so very sorry. How bad is she?”

“I try to be hopeful.” He’d been optimistic during his wife’s illness, too. Ruthie had been so sure she would live to be a mother to her daughter. “These tests will let me know how she’s progressing.” “More waiting.”

The line hummed with silence, and he lifted his shoulders, knowing he needed to say goodbye.

“Let me know what the doctors say, okay?” Her voice breezed from the line, a different spirit than he’d heard earlier.

“Sure.” He’d have Ethan tell her. “I need to—” “Ross.”

His flesh prickled. “Yes.”

“About dinner. I can get a sitter for Friday, I think, if that works for you.”

He stopped breathing. “Friday?” Confusion skittered along his frame, but he gathered his wits. “Works for me. How about if I pick you up at six?”

“Six is good.” She gave him her address.

His gaze drifted to the clock. “I’ll see you then.”

She said goodbye, and he tucked his cell phone into his pocket as he rose. The wait addled him, but not as much as it did Kelsey. He lifted his shoulders and eyed the volunteer at the desk. Maybe she’d have some information on Peyton’s status. As he strode toward her, a nurse called his name from the doorway. When he turned, she beckoned him to follow.

Though relief washed over him, he also succumbed to dread. He followed the young woman, knowing he could hear good news or bad from the doctor, or maybe today nothing at all. Life seemed like one long delay.

The nurse paused outside a consultation room. “You can wait in here with Peyton. The doctor will see you soon.”

He thanked her and stepped inside.

Peyton sat in a chair, looking so young despite her constant reminders. “I’m almost twelve, Dad. I’m not a baby anymore.”

To him, she’d always be his baby. But he knew better than to say that to her. “How did it go?”

“Same thing every time. Don’t move. Hold my breath.” She shrugged. “You know the drill.”

He nodded and sat in the only other chair in the room. “But you’ve been doing well, right?”

She shrugged again. “I guess.”

Attitude grew with age. He realized that. His daughter was on the cusp of her teens and nearly a woman in so many ways.

“Mr. Salburg.”

He looked up as Dr. Timmons stepped through the doorway. The doctor closed the door and leaned against it. “We’ll need to read the results more thoroughly, but for now, things look pretty much status quo.”

Ross’s pulse skipped. Status quo was better than a decline in her health, but he so longed to hear the word improvement. “That means no real changes.”

“My main concern is Peyton’s recurring arrhythmia. She is taking her blood thinner as directed, right?”

Ross nodded.

“Once we read the tests, we’ll know if we have to up her blood thinner. I hate to do it because that will restrict her physical activities a little more.”

Peyton groaned. “I don’t want restrictions.”

His gaze shifted to her. “I know you don’t like that, but it’s for your safety. Blood thinners prevent blood clots, and that can happen when the heart gets out of rhythm. We’ve talked about this before.”

They had, and while Peyton would say nothing more in front of the physician, Ross would hear her complaints on the way home. Physical restriction upset her, because she felt different than the other kids. Peyton wanted to be normal, like everyone else. She wasn’t.

Dr. Timmons pulled his back from the door. “But the good news is, from what I see, your heart looks about the same. No new dilation, and that’s great.”

“So what’s next?” Ross rose from the chair, his focus on Peyton.

“When I receive the full report, I’ll give you a call. For now, follow the same medication protocol.” He stepped aside and pulled open the door. “I’ll see you again, Peyton.”

She gave a nod, and when Dr. Timmons’s back was turned, she rolled her eyes.

“I know, honey, but the medication is keeping you safe.”

“Right.” Another eye roll.

Frustration coiled through Ross. He longed to have the right words to offer her hope, but she had to grasp that herself. When it came from him, he received eye rolls and nasty looks. He’d do anything to take away her illness. His thoughts diverged from the stress. It’s the only way he could deal with it all. The phone call came to mind and then Kelsey’s plight. How did she handle the situation with her daughter?

Kelsey gazed at the barnlike structure of Peabody’s Restaurant, one of her favorites. Ross had suggested a few places for dinner, and she appreciated his thoughtfulness. Besides delicious food, the restaurant had reasonable prices.

Ross walked beside her and pulled open one of the double doors at the entrance. They climbed the few stairs and turned into the dining area. Once seated in a cozy nook on the second floor, Kelsey focused on the man who’d tried to be so kind—the first man who’d tugged at her heart since her husband. Her stomach knotted as she tried to cope with the new emotion.

“Kelsey, I hope your accepting this invitation isn’t because you feel sorry for me. That’s something I don’t want from any—”

“Ross, no. Not at all.” As she pled innocence, her mind shot back to the call and what had triggered her acceptance.

His loneliness. The waiting. Was that pity? She struggled for an explanation. “Yes, it had to do with the long wait and wondering, but it’s not pity. It’s different. It’s mutual understanding. I need someone to talk with about those things, and I have the mother’s group. MOSK has been a relief for me. It’s a place where I don’t burden others with my woes because they understand.” She looked into his questioning eyes. “I relate to your situation. I’ve been there.”

He looked down at the table and then up again. “I guess that’s why I was disappointed when your group said no. The time and place are so convenient for me. It fits my schedule, but maybe you’re right. Maybe a man sitting with all those women would put a damper on their openness. I don’t want to do that.”

Her chest ached for him while her mind flipped to a new awareness. “I don’t think we thought of you as an individual, Ross.”

Confusion filled his face.

“We thought of you as a gender. Man or woman—some of us need support, and we weren’t thinking along those lines. I’ll pursue this topic with them. You need people dealing with the same problem you’re struggling with. A child with a serious illness. Our vote seems selfish, now that I think about it.”

“Not selfish. I think you were being protective.” He’d hit it on the head.

Ross reached across the table and touched her hand. “I only want you to do what’s best for the group. I’ll survive. I always have.”

And so had she. Alone. Miserable at times. Afraid. Hopeful. That had become her life. She nodded. “So tell me about Peyton. You said she has cardiomyopathy.”

“Dilated cardiomyopathy.”

“I didn’t know there were different types.”

He shook his head. “It’s the most common. The heart enlarges and stretches because it’s weak and can’t pump normally to move blood through the chambers. The problem can lead to arrhythmia and issues with the heart’s electrical system.”

And death. The thought chilled her. Kelsey studied his face as he talked about Peyton’s treatments and medication. How did he cope with it all and with such patience? She’d gone through many things with Lucy’s brain tumors but, praise God, they were benign and since the last surgery, they’d seemed to lick it. “It’s too much for a child. How old is she?”

“Peyton will celebrate her twelfth birthday next month.”

“Lucy’s almost eleven. That’s sure something we have in common.”

She grinned. “You mean the ‘attitude.'”

“You got it.”

They both grew silent. Ross’s hand rested near hers, and she longed to reach out and hold it against her heart. The man had gone through too much without a partner, and though she wanted to know about that, too, she held back. One step at a time.

Yet Lexie’s concern still rang in her ears. I wonder if you and Ross are wise to get involved. A friendship wasn’t really getting involved. Yes, she found Ross attractive, and attraction could grow. But she didn’t have time for involvement. For romance. The whole idea threw her off balance. She needed to stick to her friends.

“Are you ready to order?”

Kelsey’s head jerked up and gazed at the waitress. “Sorry. I haven’t even looked at the menu.”

“Could we have a few more minutes?” Ross winked at the young woman.

“Certainly. Take your time, unless you’d like to order drinks now.”

They placed their drink orders, and when the waitress left, they pored over the menu. But Kelsey’s concentration drifted to their girls. Both struggled to fit into a normal world, and that wasn’t always possible. If the girls met, it might be good for them. Lucy connected with Cooper because he had a serious illness. Scenarios rolled through her mind, envisioning Lucy and Peyton together. Obviously, a friendship with Ross without the girls’ involvement would be impossible. Their daughters took priority in their lives. Maybe the friendship could be a good thing.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Ross’s voice startled her.

“Or should I offer five bucks. You look mighty serious.”

“Sorry, I was thinking of our girls.” Honesty without details. She hated her urge to hide her thoughts. Conjecture didn’t make sense at this point. “Have you heard anything about her recent tests?”

He drew in a lengthy breath. “Probably next week.”

“Please let me know how it goes.” She almost wished she hadn’t asked, but she cared. Not even knowing the child, she cared.

“I will. And thanks for being concerned.”

“Hopeful is more like it.”

He rested his hand on hers. “I like your attitude.”

The word attitude gave them a chuckle. Lucy had developed one recently that Kelsey wanted to nip in the bud, as her mother used to say.

Ross looked thoughtful. “I wonder how our girls would get along.” His eyes brightened.

“Hard to say. No one can force a friendship.”

He shrugged. “But Peyton could use a friend.”

Her heart ached. “Kids like Lucy and Peyton have a hard time making friends.”

“Would you like to give it a try?”

His question sank into her mind. Lucy had made strides making friends over the year of her remission, but Peyton hadn’t succeeded. Yet it would mean spending more time with Ross. She lifted her gaze to his hopeful eyes. “I suppose they might meet … could meet someday.”

His face lit up. “Here’s an idea. Peyton’s birthday is February 14.”

“Valentine’s Day?” His eager expression wrapped around her heart.

He grinned. “Maybe we could plan something fun.”

“Are you sure Peyton would like that?”

His grin faded. “I would hope so.”

“Well, I’d have to check with Lucy.” Her brain and heart faced each other, her brain siding with Lexie’s concern while her heart offered hope. An interesting new friend for her, and maybe a new friend for Peyton. A new path for both of them. But a path with no decisive ending, only speculation. Get involved or not?

A Robert Frost poem slipped into her mind, one of her favorites, “The Road Not Taken.” Two paths. One decision. And, as the poem said, which path she chose would make all the difference.

Ross sat in his recliner, watching the six o’clock news, while his mind skipped above the latest world disasters to his dinner with Kelsey. She ran hot and cold. It confused him. Their conversations were good—meaty sometimes—and other times, they were both chuckling at commonalities between the girls or situations in their lives. But the next minute, she drifted off to another planet. One that seemed so distant and dark.

He’d sensed that she liked him. At least enjoyed his company, but her hesitation drove him crazy. Point blank, he needed to ask her what was up. Yet as soon as the thought hit his mind, the possibility of her honest answer discouraged him. Maybe it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

He clenched his teeth. Why look for problems? She’d more or less agreed to celebrate Peyton’s birthday and bring Lucy along. He could only pray that the girls liked each other.

Peyton’s negativity had gotten under his skin. Still, the poor kid had gone through so much that he avoided nagging her about it. She’d been brave for the past years dealing with that horrible illness. God had spared her thus far. Much longer than her mom had survived once diagnosed with the disease. That gave him prayerful hope.

“Peyton.” He leaned forward and looked toward the doorway.

No response.

“Peyton?” But this time he flipped the footrest down and rose. No sense in calling like a truck driver. He wandered across the room and through the archway to her bedroom door. “Peyton, are you in there?” He heard a thump followed by her footsteps.

She pulled open the door. “What?”

Ross pursed his lips, holding back a comment that circled in his mind. “Can we talk a few minutes?” He looked past her into the wonderful sitting area that had once been his. He’d made a true sacrifice giving her the master-bedroom suite, but other than the small guestroom where he slept, the other bedrooms were upstairs. His shoulders dropped as he drew his attention back to Peyton. “Your birthday is coming up, and I thought we should talk about it.”

“Dad, I don’t want a party. I’m—”

“No party. I understand.” She’d missed so much school over the last years that friendships weren’t easy for her. The kids treated her like someone too delicate to befriend. It hurt him to see her in that situation.

“Then what?” She raised her round hazel eyes, so like her mother’s.

“Can I come into your room?” He motioned toward the two chairs in the sitting area, matching recliners Ruthie had picked out for them.

She stepped into the hallway and closed the door.

He stood back and followed her into the family room. She sank onto the couch as he settled back into his recliner. If he could figure out Peyton’s moods, it would certainly help. “What would you like to do?”

“I’d like to read my book.” She motioned toward her bedroom.

He bit back his frustration. “I mean for your birthday.” He’d given it thought but telling her what he had in mind would put an end to that.

“Could we just go out to dinner?”

Dinner. He could do that. “Mexican? I know you like Azteca.”

Her nose curled. “Japanese.”

He grinned. “Benihana’s?” She loved the chefs entertaining the guests with their cooking prowess. But Kelsey and Lucy? He hoped they like Japanese food. “Benihana’s is fine.” The muscles in his stomach contracted. “I have another idea, too. It’ll make it more like a party.”

A scowl settled on her face as she tilted her head. “I told you I don’t want a party.”

“Not a real party, but a celebration.”

Her eyes probed his.

“I know a lady who has a daughter your age. She’s been sick, too, and I thought maybe we could invite them. Her mother thought it would be nice.”

Her scowl deepened. “Can’t it just be us?”

The conversation with Kelsey marched through his mind. “I sort of invited them already. I thought you’d be happy.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. “I hoped you’d be happy.”

“Dad.” She bolted up from the sofa. “Do whatever.” She marched through the archway.

So much for beginning the birthday celebration on a high note. Now what? Should he call Kelsey and cancel? Kelsey’s face filled his mind, her sapphire-blue eyes, her blond hair combed back with its stubborn part. He pictured her running her long fingers through the strands as if the action would ban the part from appearing. It never did.

He loved her smile—though rarer than her serious look—her full lips curved at the ends and smile lines like parentheses, as if the smile were an afterthought. If he called and canceled, that could end everything.