A Family of Their Own - By Gail Gaymer Martin Page 0,7
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.