A Family of Their Own - By Gail Gaymer Martin Page 0,66

medication that might thin the blood. Okay? You both know the routine.”

Too well. Kelsey rose and stepped toward the doorway while Lucy unfolded her body from the chair and followed. She said goodbye, then draped her arm across Lucy’s shoulders. As she did, Lucy’s blond curls brushed her arm and her heart ached. She swallowed her tears and managed to suppress her emotions.

When they reached the car, Lucy tilted her head upward, searching her mother’s eyes. And as Kelsey grasped the door handle, Lucy patted her hand. “It’s okay, Mom.”

Kelsey’s chest compressed. “I know it will be, sweetie.” The endearment gave her away.

Lucy gave a final pat and rounded the car to the passenger side. “Can we stop at Peyton’s house?”

Kelsey drew back at Lucy’s question. “Why do you want to go there?”

“Because they care about me, and you’ll want to talk with Ross.” Pure innocence shown on her face.

“I planned to call him.” She glanced at her watch. “We can drive by, and if they’re home, we’ll stop.”

Lucy gave a nod and leaned back, listening to the music she’d turned on earlier. The upbeat music resounded in a heavy bass thump-thump, capturing the rhythm of Kelsey’s heart. Lucy’s request had come out of nowhere. The girls’ relationship had yet to stabilize—friendly one day and distant the next, but today could bring a giant leap toward solidifying their friendship.

When the car rolled down Ross’s street, she saw his minivan in the driveway. She needed Ross’s strength right now. Yet the same dread rippled down her spine. Two girls struggling between life and death. Yet neither had bonded with the other. Two parents who had connected but who struggled with their daughters’ health issues and too little time to give to each other. Would the fear ever end? Awash in hopelessness, she pulled in and parked, sending up a prayer for the Lord to take charge. Everything was out of her hands.

Lucy jumped out, hurried toward the front door and rang the bell before Kelsey reached the steps. When the door opened, Ross’s eyes widened in concern. “Lucy, what’s—” Then he spotted her coming up the sidewalk and looked relieved. “This is a nice surprise.” But as he said the words, his expression changed. “You’re coming from the doctor’s appointment, aren’t you?”

Kelsey nodded. “Lucy asked to stop by. I hope it’s okay.”

“Okay?” He slipped his arm around her shoulders. “It’s where you should be.”

His words rushed through her. In his face, she saw that his words had a deeper meaning. Her chest throbbed. “Can we talk?”

Worry spread over his face as he steered her into the great room. “Peyton’s in her bedroom, Lucy.” He motioned toward the doorway.

Lucy rapped on the door and slipped inside as Ross drew Kelsey into his arms. “Bad news?”

She nodded, fearing she would break into a sob. “We’ve been through this before, Ross, but this time I don’t think I can handle it. It’s been too much. Too much emotion with Doug’s death. Too much vacillating about our relationship. I’m bouncing off walls with no way to stop.”

He cradled her head and pressed it to his shoulders. Though he was silent, his action spoke clearly. The tears she’d held back streamed from her eyes onto his knit shirt. His firm hand massaged her back while the other held her tightly. His breathing eased his own tension, giving hers direction to follow. She drew in a ragged breath, and released it into acceptance.

“I’m glad you came.” Ross’s whisper brushed her cheek. “You belong here with me to share the worry and disappointment.” He eased back and longing filled his eyes. “Let’s sit and you can tell me what happened.”

She shifted to the sofa, his arm still supporting her, and she sank into the cushion. The specialist’s report tumbled from her as she wrestled with her sagging emotions, but Ross’s firm touch, the compassion lighting his face, gave her courage.

“The surgery is bad news, but you still have a lot to pray about. Scar tissue is better than another tumor. At this point, they aren’t sure. So let’s think positive.”

“I’m trying.” His words inched a grin to her lips. “You should have heard Lucy.”

“Did she cry?” He looked confused.

“No, she told the doctor it was nothing, because she’d prayed.”

A whoosh of air escaped his lips. “What a girl. And you know what? She’s right. Children have enough faith to let the Lord move mountains. She knows her body, and she understands her physical symptoms. Lucy could be right.”

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