A Family of Their Own - By Gail Gaymer Martin Page 0,8
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