A Family of Their Own. Gail Gaymer Martin

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СКАЧАТЬ her mind, envisioning Lucy and Peyton together. Obviously, a friendship with Ross without the girls’ involvement would be impossible. Their daughters took priority in their lives. Maybe the friendship could be a good thing.

      “Penny for your thoughts.”

      Ross’s voice startled her.

      “Or should I offer five bucks. You look mighty serious.”

      “Sorry, I was thinking of our girls.” Honesty without details. She hated her urge to hide her thoughts. Conjecture didn’t make sense at this point. “Have you heard anything about her recent tests?”

      He drew in a lengthy breath. “Probably next week.”

      “Please let me know how it goes.” She almost wished she hadn’t asked, but she cared. Not even knowing the child, she cared.

      “I will. And thanks for being concerned.”

      “Hopeful is more like it.”

      He rested his hand on hers. “I like your attitude.”

      The word attitude gave them a chuckle. Lucy had developed one recently that Kelsey wanted to nip in the bud, as her mother used to say.

      Ross looked thoughtful. “I wonder how our girls would get along.” His eyes brightened.

      “Hard to say. No one can force a friendship.”

      He shrugged. “But Peyton could use a friend.”

      Her heart ached. “Kids like Lucy and Peyton have a hard time making friends.”

      “Would you like to give it a try?”

      His question sank into her mind. Lucy had made strides making friends over the year of her remission, but Peyton hadn’t succeeded. Yet it would mean spending more time with Ross. She lifted her gaze to his hopeful eyes. “I suppose they might meet … could meet someday.”

      His face lit up. “Here’s an idea. Peyton’s birthday is February 14.”

      “Valentine’s Day?” His eager expression wrapped around her heart.

      He grinned. “Maybe we could plan something fun.”

      “Are you sure Peyton would like that?”

      His grin faded. “I would hope so.”

      “Well, I’d have to check with Lucy.” Her brain and heart faced each other, her brain siding with Lexie’s concern while her heart offered hope. An interesting new friend for her, and maybe a new friend for Peyton. A new path for both of them. But a path with no decisive ending, only speculation. Get involved or not?

      A Robert Frost poem slipped into her mind, one of her favorites, “The Road Not Taken.” Two paths. One decision. And, as the poem said, which path she chose would make all the difference.

      Ross sat in his recliner, watching the six o’clock news, while his mind skipped above the latest world disasters to his dinner with Kelsey. She ran hot and cold. It confused him. Their conversations were good—meaty sometimes—and other times, they were both chuckling at commonalities between the girls or situations in their lives. But the next minute, she drifted off to another planet. One that seemed so distant and dark.

      He’d sensed that she liked him. At least enjoyed his company, but her hesitation drove him crazy. Point blank, he needed to ask her what was up. Yet as soon as the thought hit his mind, the possibility of her honest answer discouraged him. Maybe it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

      He clenched his teeth. Why look for problems? She’d more or less agreed to celebrate Peyton’s birthday and bring Lucy along. He could only pray that the girls liked each other.

      Peyton’s negativity had gotten under his skin. Still, the poor kid had gone through so much that he avoided nagging her about it. She’d been brave for the past years dealing with that horrible illness. God had spared her thus far. Much longer than her mom had survived once diagnosed with the disease. That gave him prayerful hope.

      “Peyton.” He leaned forward and looked toward the doorway.

      No response.

      “Peyton?” But this time he flipped the footrest down and rose. No sense in calling like a truck driver. He wandered across the room and through the archway to her bedroom door. “Peyton, are you in there?” He heard a thump followed by her footsteps.

      She pulled open the door. “What?”

      Ross pursed his lips, holding back a comment that circled in his mind. “Can we talk a few minutes?” He looked past her into the wonderful sitting area that had once been his. He’d made a true sacrifice giving her the master-bedroom suite, but other than the small guestroom where he slept, the other bedrooms were upstairs. His shoulders dropped as he drew his attention back to Peyton. “Your birthday is coming up, and I thought we should talk about it.”

      “Dad, I don’t want a party. I’m—”

      “No party. I understand.” She’d missed so much school over the last years that friendships weren’t easy for her. The kids treated her like someone too delicate to befriend. It hurt him to see her in that situation.

      “Then what?” She raised her round hazel eyes, so like her mother’s.

      “Can I come into your room?” He motioned toward the two chairs in the sitting area, matching recliners Ruthie had picked out for them.

      She stepped into the hallway and closed the door.

      He stood back and followed her into the family room. She sank onto the couch as he settled back into his recliner. If he could figure out Peyton’s moods, it would certainly help. “What would you like to do?”

      “I’d like to read my book.” She motioned toward her bedroom.

      He bit back his frustration. “I mean for your birthday.” He’d given it thought but telling her what he had in mind would put an end to that.

      “Could we just go out to dinner?”

      Dinner. He could do that. “Mexican? I know you like Azteca.”

      Her nose curled. “Japanese.”

      He grinned. “Benihana’s?” She loved the chefs entertaining the guests with their cooking prowess. But Kelsey and Lucy? He hoped they like Japanese food. “Benihana’s is fine.” The muscles in his stomach contracted. “I have another idea, too. It’ll make it more like a party.”

      A scowl settled on her face as she tilted her head. “I told you I don’t want a party.”

      “Not a real party, but a celebration.”

      Her eyes probed his.

      “I know a lady who has a daughter your age. She’s been sick, too, and I thought maybe we could invite them. Her mother thought it would be nice.”

      Her scowl deepened. “Can’t it just be us?”

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