Storybook Dad. Laura Bradford
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wheel and resisted the urge to close his eyes. When he’d picked the multiple sclerosis pamphlet off the floor of Emily’s office that morning, it had never dawned on him that it was she who had MS. She was too beautiful, too energetic, too much of a go-getter to have such a debilitating disease.
Yet now that he knew, so many things made sense. The angst she’d exhibited over accepting his business card wasn’t denial over a loved one’s condition. Her refusal to let him help her with the kayak wasn’t some over-the-top display of feminism. And her insistence at racing Seth from the car to the restaurant, even though Mark had pointed to their unexpected dunk in the lake as a reason to take it slowly wasn’t about some bottomless well of energy.
No, Emily Todd was angry, and she was determined to show anyone within a stone’s throw that she had things under control.
He understood that stage. He’d been there once, too.
“Daddy?”
The sound of his son’s tiny voice from the backseat derailed Mark’s thoughts and forced him to focus on the moment. “What is it, little man?”
“Is Emily gonna die like Mommy did?”
The question was like a punch to his gut, grabbing hold of the arm’s-length thoughts and bringing them much too close for comfort. Sneaking a peek at his son’s worried face peering at him through the rearview mirror, Mark did his best to change the subject.
“You know what? I think it’s time we dust off your bike and start working on getting rid of those training wheels sometime soon. What do you say?”
He released a sigh of relief when the little boy nodded and turned his gaze toward the passing scenery, leaving Mark to his own thoughts once again.
It was still so hard to believe. How could someone who looked like Emily be sick?
The same way Sally was …
Just the thought of his late wife brought a lump to his throat. Sally had been so healthy one minute and so sick the next, her all too quick downward spiral made even quicker by the way he’d handled everything. Burying his head in work might have made much of what was happening seem more distant, but it had also robbed him of the little time they had left.
Instead, it was Seth who had been by her side day in and day out, watching his mother slip away until she was gone for good. The memory made Mark sick. What kind of father placed a burden like that on a little boy?
A coward, that’s who …
Somehow, some way, Mark was going to make things right. He had to. He owed that much to the boy. And to Sally.
But try as he did to engage Seth in conversation for the remainder of the ride home, the worry he’d seen in his son’s eyes in the rearview mirror was still there when they returned home. It was there when they’d shared a bowl of ice cream at the kitchen counter. And it was still there when he kissed Seth’s forehead and tucked him under the sheets for the night.
Mark had seen that worry in his son’s eyes for far too long. He’d watched it eat away at the pure joy that had been Seth’s existence prior to Sally’s cancer diagnosis. And he’d sat by, virtually paralyzed by his own fear, while that worry had morphed into a steely determination to be what Mark himself seemed incapable of being.
But no more.
Seth had suffered enough for one lifetime.
It didn’t matter how hot Emily Todd was. It didn’t matter that her enthusiasm and boundless energy breathed life into Mark’s stagnant world.
All that mattered was Seth.
All that mattered was keeping his son from ever reliving the kind of grief that had consumed his young life to this point.
Pulling Seth’s bedroom door shut behind him, Mark wandered across the hall and into his own room, where the picture of Sally with Seth on his third birthday brought a familiar mist to his eyes.
With fingers that knew the way, he lifted the frame from his nightstand and slowly traced the contours of his wife’s face. “His heart is safe with me, Sally,” he whispered. “You have my word on that.”
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