Читать книгу A Candle For Nick - Lorna Michaels, Lorna Michaels - Страница 12

Say it, she thought. He needs to know. Kent, you do have a child. Nick is yours….

How would he react? He’d be shocked, of course, but what else? Would he be thrilled? Angry?

Heart drumming in her ears, she sat poised to speak, to tell the truth that would change Kent’s life…and Nick’s. But her vocal cords seemed frozen, her lips unable to move.

Once said, she could never take the words back. And far more important than Kent’s reaction was how they would affect Nick.

Kent would refuse to continue treating Nick. A doctor might stitch up his son’s cut lip, but he’d never treat his own child for cancer.

How would her son feel, getting a new physician? Would he be as cooperative when someone else performed the painful bone marrow aspirations he required?

Kent might insist on telling Nick he was his father. That could be a disaster. After only a short time as his patient, Nick worshiped Kent. As a doctor, not as a parent. If he learned the truth, the shock and stress might affect his progress. How could she take that chance?

She stared down at her napkin, folded it in half, folded it again, into smaller and smaller pieces.

Kent put his hand over hers. “Mallory, I know you’re worried, but Nick is making good progress. He’s tolerating the chemo….”

Of course Kent assumed she was worrying about Nick. She looked up and managed a smile. “I know.”

Kent gazed at her with such kindness. She swallowed a tear. “Kent, I—”

“Hey, Mom.”

She jumped at the sound of Nick’s voice and jerked her hand out of Kent’s hold. Too late to tell him now, she thought with relief. Someday she’d tell him. Later, when Nick was well. After Kent had made him well. When the consequences wouldn’t be so drastic.

“About ready to head home?” she asked Nick, noting how pale and tired he looked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Kent had been right. Nick’s body had told him he’d had enough.

They gathered their cups and napkins and headed for the door. “Wait for me a minute,” Mallory said, turning toward the restroom. She needed some time to collect herself.

In the ladies room she splashed water on her face, then glanced in the mirror as she dried off. There were circles under her eyes. She looked as pale and drawn as Nick. She freshened her lipstick, but that didn’t help much. She sighed, tossed the paper towel away and pushed open the door.

Kent and Nick stood waiting near the exit. Outside, a woman carrying a baby with one arm and holding a toddler’s hand with the other approached the door. Nick noticed, opened the door and held it for her. Pleased, Mallory smiled to herself. All those lessons in manners she’d drummed into him had apparently stuck.

“Thank you.” The woman smiled at Nick, then turned to Kent. “Your son is a sweetheart.”

Your son. Mallory’s hand flew to her mouth as Kent nodded and murmured a thank-you. Oh, God, Mallory thought. The words she couldn’t say a few minutes ago…

Would the stranger’s offhand remark cause Kent to notice Nick’s resemblance to him? And then would he figure out their relationship himself? For a moment Mallory felt sick. The sounds of children’s shrieks and laughter buzzed in her ears, the smell of frying potatoes made her stomach turn over.

She took a deep breath and on legs that felt too weak to support her, walked to Kent and Nick. No wonder the woman thought they were father and son. Anyone could see it. Even the way they stood was similar.

“Hey, Mom, did you hear?” Nick said as she came up to them. His signature grin lit up his face. “That lady thought I was Dr. Berger’s kid. Funny, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” Hilarious.

“We didn’t tell her she made a mistake because she’d have been embarrassed, right, Dr. Berger?”

Kent’s smile was a carbon copy of Nick’s. “Right,” he agreed and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Nicholas.”

“Yeah, my mom’s done a great job with me. That’s what everyone says.”

“They’re right.” Kent turned to Mallory, admiration in his eyes.

“Thanks.” She let out a shaky breath. Apparently Kent hadn’t interpreted the woman’s comment as anything more than the natural assumption that a man and boy standing together were father and son. She’d avoided disaster this time, she told herself, but if too many people noticed the resemblance and mentioned it, Kent really would catch on. Better not to get too involved with him. No more spontaneous meals at McDonald’s. Nick could chat with him in the clinic, but that was all. She’d talk with Nick about that as soon as they got home.

She was silent in the car, pondering what to say to keep Nick from becoming too chummy with his doctor. This evening had given her a scare: her secret baby almost revealed against a backdrop of Happy Meals.

Lord, didn’t she have enough to worry about? Nick’s blood counts, his reactions to chemo and, looming ahead, the transplant. She’d forced herself not to think too much about that. It was too terrifying. She’d face the transplant when the time came.

From behind them came the sound of a soft snore. She turned to look at Nick. He was sprawled in the backseat with his arms splayed, his head against the cushion, eyes shut and mouth partially open. “He’s exhausted,” she murmured. “We shouldn’t have stayed so long.”

“Mallory, you can’t lock him away from life. He has to be a normal kid, as normal as possible.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but I worry.”

Kent glanced at her and gave her a half smile. “Sure you do, but you have to take time off, too, and take care of yourself.”

Suddenly angry, Mallory glared at him. “That’s what all doctors say, isn’t it? Well, I can tell you it’s impossible to take time off. What should I do—soak in a bubble bath? When you’re a parent, wherever you go, the cancer goes with you.” She bit her lip. She’d almost added, How do you think you’d feel if you were Nick’s father?

“You’re right.” Kent lifted his hand from the steering wheel, moved it toward her as if to touch her, then stopped and returned it to the wheel. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It’s easy to speak in clichés when you’re on the other side.”

Mallory sighed. “And I’m sorry for jumping at you.” She forced a smile. “So we’re even.”

Kent pulled up at her apartment.

“Nick, we’re home,” Mallory said.

He opened his eyes and stared at her sleepily, then yawned. “Okay.”

Kent got out to walk them to the door. Mallory sent Nick inside, reminding him to brush his teeth before bed. “And—”

“I know,” he said, “with the soft toothbrush.” He grinned at Kent. “The leukemabrush, right?” Then he asked, “Aren’t you coming in, Mom?”

“In a minute. I want to talk to Dr. Berger.”

“’Kay. ’Night, Dr. Berger. I’ll see you Thursday.”

Mallory waited for Nick to shut the door, then squared her shoulders and turned to Kent. “About tonight—”

“He really is okay. Just a little tired.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“What, then?”

She took a breath. “How often do you do this?”

“This?”

Was he being deliberately obtuse? “Eat at McDonald’s.”

He chuckled. “The last time was…oh, about ten years ago.”

“Then why tonight? Surely you’re not in the habit of going out for fast food with your patients.”

His smile vanished. “No, I’m not.”

“Then why Nick?”

Frowning, he hesitated a moment, then shook his head. “Damned if I know. Maybe because he’s yours.” He brushed his hand over her cheek, then as if he thought better of his gesture, he turned and walked quickly to his car.

Mallory stood still and watched him get into the car and pull out of the parking lot. Her cheek tingled where he’d touched her, even that faint contact setting off a wave of longing she thought had died long ago. It must have been simmering beneath the surface, needing only the brush of his fingers to come to life again.

She opened the door and went inside. This couldn’t happen. Dammit, she wouldn’t let it.

“That you, Mom?” Nick’s sleepy voice called.

“Yes.”

“I’m in bed.”

She went to his room, sat on the edge of the bed and laid one hand on his cheek. She wished she could kiss him good night, but that wasn’t allowed. Too likely to spread germs. She settled for blowing a kiss with her other hand.

Nick pretended to catch it. He yawned widely, then said, “Tonight was cool.”

The perfect opening. “We need to talk about that.”

His eyelids drooped. “’Kay,” he muttered.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to, um, be friends with Dr. Berger. To ask him out to dinner and, um, things like that.”

His eyes opened. “Why?”

“Well, doctors have to make decisions about their patients, and being friends makes it harder.”

“Adam Cage’s family is friends with the Donnellys, and Dr. Donnelly is Adam’s doctor.”

“Yes,” Mallory acknowledged, “but this is different. For instance, you needed that bone marrow aspiration. It hurt but it was important. Sometimes doctors have to make you feel bad to get you well, and doing that is hard if they’re close friends with their patients.”

Nick said nothing. He was clearly thinking this through.

“Do you understand?” Mallory asked.

“Yeah, kinda. You don’t want me asking Dr. Berger to go somewhere with us.”

“Exactly. I know you like him a lot, but…”

“That’s okay, Mom. I get it. I can visit with him at the office.”

Mallory squeezed his hand. “That lady at McDonald’s was right. You are a sweetheart.”

Nick made a gagging sound. “Sweetheart. Mom, puh-lease.”

“Okay, tough guy. I won’t say it again. I’ll just think it,” Mallory promised. “’Night.”

“’Kay.”

By the time she took the few steps to the door, she could hear by Nick’s breathing that he’d fallen asleep. She sighed as she shut his door. Her son needed a father figure, especially now. Unfortunately, it appeared he’d chosen Kent.

Now what? It wasn’t bedtime for her yet, but she was tired, stressed. Yet, unlike Nick, she couldn’t instantly fall asleep. Why not take that bubble bath she’d mentioned to Kent? Her partner Lauri, who thought of everything, had slipped a jar of lavender bubble bath into Mallory’s cosmetic case. She found it and poured a lavish amount into the tub and filled it to the top with warm water. She got out her favorite sleep shirt, hung it on the towel rack and shed her clothes, then lowered herself into the fragrant water and leaned back. Eyes shut, she let the bubbles tickle her shoulders. After a few minutes her stress level lowered. Yes, the leukemia was always with her, but the bath did help her relax.

But now her thoughts turned to Kent. She didn’t want to remember the summer she’d been with him, but after spending this evening with him, she couldn’t seem to help it. She ran her hand through the water, felt it lap against her breasts and imagined instead the soft caress of Kent’s palm against her skin, the warmth of his mouth as he drew her nipple inside. When she opened her eyes, she saw that her nipples had tightened and the peaks extended above the water. She could almost feel the whisper of Kent’s breath against her body, the tingle of anticipation inside her that signaled she wanted more of him, all of him.

“Go away, Kent,” she murmured, then changed her mind. Nothing wrong with dreams, she told herself, as long as she stayed away from him in real life.

Kent poured himself a scotch, wandered into the great room of his house, glass in hand, and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows with their view of the pool. What in hell had possessed him to accept Nick Brenner’s invitation to join him and Mallory at McDonald’s?

Okay, he had to admit he liked the kid. And he was fool enough to want to spend another evening with Mallory, even if it was for a dinner of burgers and fries. Something about her still tugged at him. Not just her looks, although she’d grown from a pretty girl to a beautiful woman. A strong woman, too. Life had dealt her a ton of blows—losing her husband and now facing her child’s illness—but though there were shadows under her eyes, they still shone and her smile still beguiled him.

Damn, he shouldn’t have touched her. The merest contact with her skin and he wanted more. Like an ex-drunk who tells himself he can get away with a taste of alcohol, he’d been sure he’d be satisfied with one light brush of his fingers over her cheek, but he’d been wrong. Now he craved her, wanted to run his hands and mouth over every inch of her…and have her touch him back.

She’d asked him about his marriage. Funny, he hadn’t thought about Lisa in a long time, never looked deep inside himself to figure out why their marriage hadn’t worked. If he wanted to be honest—something he hadn’t been while the divorce was in progress—he’d admit he married Lisa on the rebound. He’d been looking for someone as different from Mallory as possible. Lisa was sophisticated, big-city; Mallory was the girl back home.

And suddenly he wondered if, right now, Mallory had a guy back home. Someone who’d be waiting when she got back to Valerosa, when Houston was only a memory. She’d had someone when he’d known her before. Dean Brenner had been waiting in the wings and as soon as Kent was out of sight—out of mind, too, he guessed—Dean had made his move. Or maybe Mallory had used him as bait to spur Dean on.

Kent lifted his glass and drank deeply, letting the liquor burn as it went down. The old attraction smoldered in him, the same as it had the first day he’d seen her, a cute lifeguard who gazed at him as if he were a hero. And though he warned himself not to forget she’d once played him for a fool, Kent knew he still wanted her.

Complicating everything was her kid. Tonight he’d broken one of his cardinal rules: never get involved with his patients.