A Dad of His Own

“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.”