A Candle For Nick. Lorna Michaels
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thank you.”
Kent shrugged, and she thought she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. Let him laugh. She would not allow this to become a…she wasn’t sure what, but letting him pay for their meal seemed a step toward a more personal relationship. A complication she couldn’t dare to encourage.
They carried their trays to a booth and sat down. She continued to let Nick carry the conversation, relieved at first and then concerned that he and Kent had so much to talk about.
Nick ate half his burger, then pushed it away. His appetite was still poor. Tonight hers wasn’t much better. She nibbled at her food, wishing the meal over so they could leave.
But Nick was eyeing the outside playground. “Can I go out, Mom?” he asked.
Mallory hesitated, worried that he might overextend himself. And she didn’t want to be alone with Kent. “I don’t think—”
Sensing defeat, Nick said, “Let’s ask Dr. Berger.” He turned to Kent.
“Ten minutes,” Kent said. “If you get tired sooner, come back. Your body will tell you when it’s had enough.”
“Thanks.” Flashing a triumphant grin, he left them.
Alone.
Mallory began gathering up their leftovers. If she walked to the trash can really slowly, she could use up maybe two minutes. Coward. But she had reason to be afraid.
“I’ll get us some coffee,” Kent said.
“Thank you.”
“Still take yours with two sugars?”
She nodded, surprised he remembered. With another man, she’d be flattered. With Kent—
She deposited their trash in the container and returned to the booth. Kent set the cups on the table and slid in across from her. Her hand closed around the coffee cup. His was inches away, close enough to reach for, to touch. She remembered the feel of his fingers clasping hers, the warmth of his palm…
“The first time we went out, I took you to the Burger Bar,” he said softly.
She remembered, of course. Everything about that first afternoon was as vivid in her mind as events of the past week—the smell of broiling meat, the jukebox playing Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You,” the heady excitement that Kent had noticed her and actually asked her out.
“Is the Burger Bar still there?” he asked.
She nodded, stirred her coffee. “I wasn’t supposed to go out with you,” she blurted.
He frowned. “Really? Why?”
“You were a guest at Comanche Trails. Employees weren’t allowed to socialize with guests.” Yet without a qualm, she’d said yes the minute he asked. She, the rabbi’s daughter who never broke rules, hadn’t given the restriction a second thought. And that was only the first rule she’d broken.
Kent’s lips curved into the slow smile Mallory used to adore. “I didn’t know that. I’m glad you decided to go.”
Mallory didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
What if she’d stuck with her usual behavior and said no when he asked her out? She’d have avoided all the grief, all the anguish.
But she wouldn’t have Nick.
She glanced out the window at her son, who was talking to another youngster on the playground. She’d endure everything she’d gone through again because of him. She glanced back at Kent and found him watching her thoughtfully, a half smile on his face. “What?” she asked.
“After we left the Burger Bar, you took me to see a prairie dog town.”
Mallory laughed, half-embarrassed that she’d thought such an unsophisticated outing would impress a man who’d spent his last four years in Chicago. But he’d kissed her there, on that sun-scorched afternoon, with a chorus of tiny creatures chattering in the background and the whistle of a train sounding from somewhere far away.
She’d fallen in love that hot June day, and those same feelings, long buried, were stirring now. Again. Fool. Now you know better.
Abruptly she said, “How long were you married?”
He blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Three years.”
“What happened?”
Kent hesitated, then answered, “Lisa and I were a bad match.”
Curious now, she asked, “In what way?”
“We wanted different things. I met Lisa in New York when I was at Sloan-Kettering. She was a model. Then when we moved here, she had some offers and…she didn’t want to spoil her body having children.”
Mallory studied him thoughtfully. “Would you have sacrificed your career for children?”
“Yes,” he said.
His voice rang with such intensity, his eyes shone with such pain that Mallory was staggered. Beneath the table she clenched her hands, which had suddenly gone cold. If he wanted a child this much, didn’t he deserve to know that Nick was his?
Chapter Five
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