A Family of Their Own

Chapter Four

Kelsey’s spine knotted with anticipation, waiting to open the MOSK meeting. She pushed back her shoulders and pulled them forward, hoping to relieve the stress. Despite reservations, she’d settled her mind to her mission. She had to, now that she’d met Ross and understood his need.

Her gaze drifted over the women, recalculating a way to approach the topic without laying too much out in the open. She’d almost hoped Lexie wouldn’t attend, because she knew too much about the situation, and Kelsey knew she’d feel guilty if she didn’t put everything on the table. Facts, feelings and familiarity. Maybe that was the problem. Being too close to Ross and her roiling emotions may have undermined her wisdom and skewed her ability to see all sides of the issue.

The clock hand ticked past the hour, and a couple of women eyed their watches. She had to begin. The agenda gave her time to think through her points, and she hoped by the end of their sharing time, she would have the right words.

Kelsey clapped her hands together and managed a grin. “I’m glad to see so many of you here today. We have some things to talk about, but first, we begin by sharing.” She shifted her gaze to the back of the room. “I see a couple of visitors with us. Welcome. If you have questions, please ask. We’re here to support each other in any way we can. Now—” she gestured toward the seating arrangement “—let’s scoot our chairs around to form a circle today. It’s nice when we can see everyone.”

The women shifted—some standing and moving their seats and others wiggling their chairs into position. When they’d formed a ragged circle, she turned to Ava.

“Ava, why don’t you start? Tell us about your week, and introduce yourself to our guests.”

Ava raised her hand with a wave, as if wanting to make sure everyone knew who she was, and began. “I’m Ava Darnell, a single mom. My son, Brandon, has Hodgkin’s lymphoma. He’s fourteen.” She gazed at the women in the back of the room as muffled sounds of compassion rippled toward her. “We had good news this week. This round, we had an excellent report. His blood tests showed a little improvement, and he has more energy than he’s had in a long time.”

Words of assurance echoed through the room before the next mom began her news, but Kelsey’s attention slipped into her thoughts and the voices faded. Though she tried to focus, she was concentrating on her goal for the meeting.

Ross’s image had rattled through her mind since Peyton’s birthday. He wanted so much for his daughter, but until Peyton was willing to give and take a chance, Ross’s hopes would never come to fruition. Ideas kept coming, but how could she step in and influence changes? Her actions would result in resentment from Peyton and Ross. She would make Ross feel like a failure as a dad, and he wasn’t. Ross gave so much. She saw it in his face and his actions. He tried so hard it broke her heart.

Lucy’s disappointment made her sad, too. She’d wanted her to be friends with Peyton, but the girl didn’t budge toward acceptance at all. She’d reacted the opposite and thwarted everyone’s efforts to extend her a happy birthday. Kelsey refused to put Lucy through that again.

But then she envisioned Peyton. Lonely. Lost. Forlorn. An ache flared in Kelsey’s chest. She would talk with Lucy and explain. Lucy could take it. She was strong and kind.

Kelsey’s attention snapped back to the women. She’d missed the guests’ introductions, and guilt assailed her. A moderator needed to focus and be on top of things. She rose and managed a pleasant smile. “Thanks everyone for sharing from your heart, especially our visitors.” She scanned the faces. “Did we miss anyone?” She would have known had she paid attention.

Blank looks stared back. She’d goofed. “I mean, do we have any other thoughts?”

Some heads nodded no. Others swiveled to scan the room.

“Then, it’s time to move 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.”

“Better for it? What do you mean?”

“It’s like anything in life. If you keep your eyes aimed at one thing, you miss other important things. When you let your time and interest take in more, you’re a more complete person. You can’t cut off the joy of life and dwell on Peyton’s illness. You’ll be a sad, depressed person and that’s not good for you or her.”

The words cut him. “Is that what I am? Sad and depressed?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m talking feelings.” He rose from the chair and rounded his desk. “We don’t talk about feelings much, but they drive us. Emotions cause us to react in certain ways and believe certain things. When they’re one-sided, we’re not getting the full picture. I lived my wife’s death over and over, and never opened myself to anything beyond that until Lexie came into my life.”

“That’s why I came to you, I suppose.”

Ethan leaned against his desk, resting a hand on the top. “Do you like Kelsey enough to work at it? You can learn how to share time, and maybe Lucy and Peyton could become friends. They both—”

“That’s the problem. Peyton won’t let it happen.”

“Ahh.” Ethan slipped onto the desktop and leaned forward. “So that’s it.” A frown settled on his face. “And they’ve only been together once, right?”

He nodded.

Ethan flung his hands upward. “You’ve said Peyton struggles with friendships at school. She hasn’t clicked with the kids. You know how people are. She’s not trusting yet. Give her time. Plan another event.”

“I’m not sure Lucy will want to spend time with her again.”

“Don’t look for problems. Lucy’s a great kid. She and Cooper are friends, and they go at each other when it comes to games. Lucy’s determined to win, but they’re still buddies. It may take a while for the girls to bond. Lucy and Cooper have been friends since Lexie met Kelsey. That was some time ago.”

Ross tried to digest what Ethan was saying. He made some good points. “I need to think of something that’s nonthreatening or competitive.”

“How about going to a movie and afterward stopping for ice cream? They’ll be together but nothing challenging. No need for a lot of conversation.”

Ross chuckled. “Unless it’s picking out a movie.”

“Okay, but you can always put ideas in a hat and let them draw. Then it’s no one’s idea.”

Ethan’s good humor gave Ross hope. He grinned as he rose. “Great idea. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Ethan slippedd from the desk and slid his arm around Ross’s shoulders. “I suppose Kelsey told you I was irked at Lexie when she advised her not to get too involved with you.”

His back tightened. “No, she didn’t.”

“Oops.” His arm dropped to his side. “I assumed she did. Lexie feared exactly what you’re talking about. How can two people with sick kids find time for another person?”

Ross nodded his head. At least he wasn’t the only one to question the situation.

“But I saw it differently. I think the two of you deserve some fun and companionship other than with your kids.” He squeezed Ross’s shoulder. “For the reasons I mentioned.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He extended his hand and Ethan gave it a squeeze.

When he stepped into the hallway, though a weight remained on his shoulders, his step felt lighter.



“What do you think about the movie idea?”

Kelsey gazed at Ross’s eyes filled with hope. Her chest constricted, thinking of the pleading she would have to do. “Let me check with Lucy, okay?”

His head lowered as if studying the carpet of her living room. “I understand. If I were Lucy, I wouldn’t want to spend time with Peyton, either.”

“Ross.” She reached across the space and grasped his hand. “Peyton’s a sweet girl, but she’s been rejected so often she’s put up barriers. Even adults do that.”

He nodded, but the discouraged look remained on his face. “I’m baffled.” His pleading gaze searched hers. “I’ve talked with her and tried to explain that she has to reach out to people. She can’t.”

“She can. It takes time. Everything’s in God’s time. I’ve heard you say that yourself.”

A grin crept to his lips. “Easy to say but hard to follow.”

“I know, but trust. Friendships take time to build.” Her pulse skipped. Some friendships never happened. They both knew that. “Let me see what Lucy says.”

She strode to the doorway and down the short hallway to Lucy’s bedroom. “Can I come in?” She tapped on the door.

The door swung open. “I’m doing homework.”

She rested her hand on Lucy’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. “You’re my A-1 daughter.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I’m your only daughter, Mom.”

“But if I had two, you’d be my A-1.”

Her nose wrinkled but a grin appeared. “Is Ross here?”

“He is.” She motioned toward the room, and Lucy stepped aside for her to enter. When Lucy faced her, Kelsey closed the door. “Ross wondered if you’d be willing to go to a movie with them.”

“Them meaning him and Peyton?”

“No, all of us. A movie and maybe ice cream after?” Kelsey managed not to smile when Lucy’s face lit up. Ice cream was her favorite treat. “Which movie?”

Kelsey stared at the ceiling. “It’s…the one with Emma Roberts. You should enjoy it. I think it’s a suspense or something.”

Lucy shrugged. “You really want me to do this?”

She nodded. “Peyton needs approval.” She raised her hand to stop Lucy’s comment. “I know it’s not easy, but be compassionate. She has a very nice dad so I’m sure she’s a nice girl.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows.

“With a few problems.”

Eyebrows lowering, Lucy gave a nod. “I know.” She drew up her shoulders. “When?”

“Tonight. It’s Friday. No school tomorrow. And remember. Ice cream.”

“Okay, Mom. But that wasn’t fair.”

Kelsey chuckled. “I know. But the ice cream was Ross’s idea not mine.” She headed for the door and pulled it open. “Finish what you’re doing and get ready. I’ll tell Ross.”

After she closed the bedroom door, she leaned against the wall, hoping to discard the random thoughts charging through her head. All of them involved Ross. Where could this relationship lead? And what kind of relationship did Ross intend? Since Lexie’s wedding, their meetings had been like playdates—parents taking their kids to the local park to ride the slides and swings. Is that all it was? If so, did she want that kind of acquaintance?

Sometimes her heart skipped a beat when she pictured Ross. The idea added excitement to her life and stirred her awareness to realize that romance might feel good in her life if she could learn to trust again. Ross had become a faithful friend. His devotion to Peyton, even the love he still held for his wife, registered a good feeling in Kelsey. Yet the relationship lacked too much. Two people needed time to develop a solid friendship before it grew into something more. But already her heart had gotten tangled up in the situation. Was it feelings for Ross or Peyton? When she closed her eyes, his face appeared—not his daughter’s.

She pushed herself from the wall, her stride slower than when she left. Guarding her heart needed to be a priority. Nothing should distract her from Lucy’s needs, both as her only parent and as a caregiver. Thankfulness for Lucy’s recent health billowed in her mind. Lucy had been well for months. She thanked God for the blessing.

When she entered the living room, Ross’s head snapped up, his eyes searching hers. She nodded. “It’s fine.” She approached him and sank into the chair she’d vacated. “Have you talked with Peyton?”

“I did before I left. I’ll call Mrs. Withers. She’s with Peyton and will tell her to get ready.”

“Would you like some coffee? I have a pot made.”

“Thanks. That sounds good.”

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket as Kelsey headed for the kitchen. The dishwasher from the dinner dishes had grown silent. She opened the door but closed it again. Ross didn’t need that much time for his call and she would put the dishes away later. Instead, she poured coffee into two cups, and when she carried them back into the living room, Ross’s call had ended.

“Thanks.” He grasped the cup and rested his back against the chair. “She’ll be ready when we get there.” He took a careful sip of the hot coffee.

“Lucy’s finishing her math, and then we can go.” Their conversation had become stilted. She eyed Ross to see if he noticed, then decided it was her problem. Too much thinking. Like too much salt, that could ruin the soup, except in this case, the soup was her confusing relationship with him. She tasted the coffee and set the cup down.

“Do you ever wonder if you’re overindulgent with Peyton?” The question flew from her mouth like a disturbed bat and it was just as frightening when she heard the words.

Ross’s eyes widened and confusion registered on his face. “Do you think I am?” He gripped the cup as if it were a lifesaver.

Yes. Maybe. She didn’t know, but that wasn’t the question she meant to ask. “I think I’ve babied Lucy too much sometimes. I just wondered if you ever think that.”

Coffee sloshed from the cup to his leg but went unnoticed as he peered at her. “How can you overindulge a sick child?”

Irritation tinged his words, and Kelsey wished she hadn’t said it that way. “What I mean is, do we hover over them? Are we allowing our kids to learn to fend for themselves? They’re becoming teenagers, and they—”

“Kelsey.” He set the cup on the table. “I don’t know if Peyton will ever be a teenager. Her mother only lived a couple years after she was diagnosed. It was too late.”

A deep ache ripped through Kelsey’s heart. She hung her head and closed her eyes, sensing his pain not only for himself but for his daughter. “How long ago, Ross? Does Peyton remember her mom?”

“She was six, and she remembers.”

The sorrow in his voice enveloped her. “You’re trying to be mother and father, I know.”

“And I’m not good at either one.”

Her head shot up. “Don’t say that. I wasn’t accusing you when I asked that question about overindulging.” Dumb, stupid question. She wished she could bite back the words. “I was asking because of my own guilt, too. We forget our kids that have to survive in the real world. Let’s be optimistic and believe that both of our kids will be teenagers and adults. Let’s do that.”

Ross drew in a ragged breath. “I tell myself that every day.”

“Believe it every day. That’s how we hold on. Prayer and hope. I live with both on my heart and lips.”

“Sorry for jumping at you, Kelsey. I feel guilty sometimes. I don’t know how to ease up and force issues with Peyton. I don’t know how to stop myself from giving in. She has me wrapped around her finger, I suppose.”

“We’re all guilty of that.” She managed to grin. “You know about tough love. It’s sort of like that, I guess, but we have to use it on ourselves. Not the kids.”

A noise alerted her, and she glanced toward the doorway. “You’re ready?”

Lucy nodded, her gaze drifting to Ross.

He grinned. “Ready for a movie and a treat?”

She gave him a playful look. “Ice cream. I’m ready for that.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go.” He rose and beckoned them toward the door.

Kelsey gazed at her daughter, her pride growing. Lucy handled things well. Now if they could only help Peyton learn how to manage just as well. The thought wavered in her mind. Hope, she reminded herself. Hope and prayer.