A Family of Their Own. Gail Martin Gaymer
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on. We have two topics today. One has to do with a fundraiser we’d like to sponsor to help our members who are having financial problems. The other is one I’d like to bring up … again.”
Expressions changed when she added again.
“So let me offer this now as food for thought.” She lifted her shoulders and dragged in a lengthy breath. “A while ago we voted on whether we should allow men to join this organization. Most of us are single parents, but some are married. The consensus was that men want to ‘do’ rather than ‘talk.’ Most of us agreed.”
Heads nodded and rumblings of examples buzzed among them.
“That’s why I’m here,” one of the guests said. “My husband puts his head in the sand. He doesn’t want to face what our daughter is going through. He deals with the information but not the pain we’re all feeling.”
Kelsey nodded, wishing someone would come up with an illustration to support a man’s need to be open. “That’s what we agreed on.” Ross’s words filled her mind. “But recently I’ve met a man who is interested in a support group, and ours fits his time, schedule and location. I challenged him with the same things you’re saying. Men don’t want to talk about their feelings. They want action. They want to do something. And his response took the wind out of me.” She surveyed the room, hoping her next words would touch them as they had her. “He said that when a man has a sick child there’s little he can do.”
An intake of breath dotted the room. Some women squirmed, gazing at the ceiling or the floor, anywhere but at each other. “He said more. He said it’s hard to open up, but he thought he would benefit from hearing others’ struggles and knowing he’s not alone. And he thought he could learn from others’ experiences.”
Ava jumped in. “We do learn from each other’s situations. It’s taught me how to handle my grief and what to be grateful for. It’s easy to forget the good when we’re dealing with so much bad.”
Kelsey wanted to hug Ava. “I voted against men, too, but I’ve seen a different side of it now, and I realize that many single men have no one to talk with. They can’t show their feelings to their friends or coworkers because they don’t want to look weak. Where can they turn?”
“To groups like this.”
Lexie’s voice surprised her.
“Sorry, I’m late.” She pulled her shoulder from the doorframe and stepped into the room. “I’ve thought about this lately, too. Originally I was against it, but my feelings have changed since I met the man Kelsey’s talking about. And I’m sure he’s not the only one. We’re all parents. We love our kids whether we’re fathers or mothers. We all need support.”
“Thanks, Lexie.” Kelsey’s heart surged with her friend’s encouragement. “I’m not asking you to vote today. But I’m asking you to think about it during the week. Put yourself in a father’s position, and we’ll vote on it next week. Decide with your heart what’s best for all of us dealing with seriously ill children.”
Her hands trembled as she lowered them to her sides. “Now, let’s hear about the fundraiser idea.” She slipped into a chair, waiting for the tension to fade. Nothing would please her more than to tell Ross the group had opened the door to him and other men who loved their sick kids and needed support. Lord, please, give us an answer. If it’s not our door, open another one. Help us to show compassion.
Ross stood outside Ethan’s office door, grasping for courage to open it and talk. He liked Kelsey more than he wanted to admit, but his brain told him he was heading for trouble. But how could he explain it to Ethan and make sense? Ethan’s situation was different. Lexie’s boy had been fighting leukemia. Ethan supported her and Cooper without shortchanging his own child, since he had none. No conflict of interest there.
Ethan’s telephone receiver clicked as he hung up, and Ross stepped forward. Ethan’s back was to the door, but when he heard Ross’s steps, he swiveled around. “Hey, how’s it going?”
“Fine.” Not fine, but no one expected a truthful answer. “Am I interrupting?”
He brushed his hand in the air. “No. I have to make changes to some plans. The family can’t afford everything they want.” He shrugged. “We’ll do it in stages, I guess.”
Ross understood that problem. “Do you mind if I sit?”
Ethan’s eyebrows raised. “Not at all.” He tilted back in his chair. “Something wrong?”
Ross flicked his head, looking for words.
“Job or personal life?”
“Personal?”
The word caused Ethan to lean forward, placing his folded hands on his desk. “I hope you and Kelsey haven’t—”
“Nothing quite like that. We get along great.” He pressed his dry lips together. “It’s …”
“Have you seen her?”
“Yes.” The memory sank to the pit of his stomach. “I mean on a date?”
“Sort of. We went out for Peyton’s birthday. Lucy and Kelsey. Dinner and we went to the Cranbrook Institute of Science. They have all kinds of hands-on things for kids, plus a laser show.”
Ethan studied his face. “It didn’t go well? I mean with the girls?”
“Not as well as I’d hoped. Peyton wasn’t receptive. Things were tense.” Things were horrible.
“Peyton’s relationships have been limited, Ross. You can’t expect wonders. At least not that fast.”
“I know. I hoped. But I’m thinking and …” Ethan’s serious expression motivated him to spit out his concern. “I really like Kelsey. A lot. But my life belongs to Peyton, and I—”
“Ethan, your life doesn’t belong to Peyton. It’s yours. You give her your full attention because you love her. But you’re good at multitasking. You have to be as a contractor. Find ways to split your time, and you’ll be better for it.”
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