A Candle For Nick

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 and Nick stood waiting near the exit. Outside, a woman carrying a baby with one arm and holding a toddler’s hand with the other approached the door. Nick noticed, opened the door and held it for her. Pleased, Mallory smiled to herself. All those lessons in manners she’d drummed into him had apparently stuck.

“Thank you.” The woman smiled at Nick, then turned to Kent. “Your son is a sweetheart.”

Your son. Mallory’s hand flew to her mouth as Kent nodded and murmured a thank-you. Oh, God, Mallory thought. The words she couldn’t say a few minutes ago…

Would the stranger’s offhand remark cause Kent to notice Nick’s resemblance to him? And then would he figure out their relationship himself? For a moment Mallory felt sick. The sounds of children’s shrieks and laughter buzzed in her ears, the smell of frying potatoes made her stomach turn over.

She took a deep breath and on legs that felt too weak to support her, walked to Kent and Nick. No wonder the woman thought they were father and son. Anyone could see it. Even the way they stood was similar.

“Hey, Mom, did you hear?” Nick said as she came up to them. His signature grin lit up his face. “That lady thought I was Dr. Berger’s kid. Funny, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” Hilarious.

“We didn’t tell her she made a mistake because she’d have been embarrassed, right, Dr. Berger?”

Kent’s smile was a carbon copy of Nick’s. “Right,” he agreed and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Nicholas.”

“Yeah, my mom’s done a great job with me. That’s what everyone says.”

“They’re right.” Kent turned to Mallory, admiration in his eyes.

“Thanks.” She let out a shaky breath. Apparently Kent hadn’t interpreted the woman’s comment as anything more than the natural assumption that a man and boy standing together were father and son. She’d avoided disaster this time, she told herself, but if too many people noticed the resemblance and mentioned it, Kent really would catch on. Better not to get too involved with him. No more spontaneous meals at McDonald’s. Nick could chat with him in the clinic, but that was all. She’d talk with Nick about that as soon as they got home.

She was silent in the car, pondering what to say to keep Nick from becoming too chummy with his doctor. This evening had given her a scare: her secret baby almost revealed against a backdrop of Happy Meals.

Lord, didn’t she have enough to worry about? Nick’s blood counts, his reactions to chemo and, looming ahead, the transplant. She’d forced herself not to think too much about that. It was too terrifying. She’d face the transplant when the time came.

From behind them came the sound of a soft snore. She turned to look at Nick. He was sprawled in the backseat with his arms splayed, his head against the cushion, eyes shut and mouth partially open. “He’s exhausted,” she murmured. “We shouldn’t have stayed so long.”

“Mallory, you can’t lock him away from life. He has to be a normal kid, as normal as possible.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but I worry.”

Kent glanced at her and gave her a half smile. “Sure you do, but you have to take time off, too, and take care of yourself.”

Suddenly angry, Mallory glared at him. “That’s what all doctors say, isn’t it? Well, I can tell you it’s impossible to take time off. What should I do—soak in a bubble bath? When you’re a parent, wherever you go, the cancer goes with you.” She bit her lip. She’d almost added, How do you think you’d feel if you were Nick’s father?

“You’re right.” Kent lifted his hand from the steering wheel, moved it toward her as if to touch her, then stopped and returned it to the wheel. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It’s easy to speak in clichés when you’re on the other side.”

Mallory sighed. “And I’m sorry for jumping at you.” She forced a smile. “So we’re even.”

Kent pulled up at her apartment.

“Nick, we’re home,” Mallory said.