Holding On Read online

  When he wiggled out of her arms, she carried her work materials to the desk in one corner of the living room and started unpacking.

  Janna followed. “Cute blouse.”

  Danielle smoothed her hand over the crisp turquoise linen. “It was on clearance. I couldn’t resist.”

  “It’s your color. Makes the blue in your eyes more vivid.”

  “Thanks.” When her bag was unpacked, she turned from her desk and looked around. “Hey, you guys cleaned up.” The layer of dust had been vanquished from the end tables, and the carpets bore tracks from the sweeper. The picture window was missing the hazy fingerprints that usually marked the glass.

  “Hope you don’t mind. I know you’ve been crazy-busy with this latest client. How was mister pain-in-the-backside today?” Janna wrinkled her nose, skewing the lines of freckles that ran across her fair skin.

  “Charming as usual.” Danielle followed Janna into the kitchen. “He wasn’t happy I rescheduled yesterday’s appointment. And he’s still blaming me that we’re on such a tight deadline. How is it my fault that he waited until three weeks before his show to consider what literature they would need?”

  “It’s not. But that type needs someone to blame so they can maintain delusions that they’re perfect. Just ignore him.”

  “I know I shouldn’t let him bother me,” Danielle confessed. “But something about him gets to me.” She knew what it was. He reminded her of her father, which triggered an unmet need for approval. But she didn’t want to talk about that part of her past, not even with Janna.

  “Well, I find that most bad days improve with good food. Have a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. It’s guaranteed to make you feel better.” Janna dished up a couple plates of noodles and ladled sauce and meatballs over them. Trevor, who seemed to be enjoying the surprise he and Janna had cooked up, retrieved napkins in one hand and forks in the other and brought them to the breakfast bar.

  Danielle slid onto a barstool and enjoyed the rare treat of having someone take care of her. “Mmmm.” She closed her eyes and let the rich flavors of her first bite roll over her tongue. “Tastes like heaven, Janna. You’re my hero.”

  Janna untied the string at her waist then lifted the apron over her head. “Then my work here is done. I’m going home so you two can enjoy your evening. And try not to work too hard, Dani-dear.” She gave Trevor a peck on the cheek and squeezed Danielle’s shoulder as she headed for the door.

  Danielle swiveled on the chair, watching her go. “Thanks. I’ll call you later.”

  When the door clicked shut, Danielle turned back to Trevor. Spaghetti sauce dotted his chin and streaked his upper lip. His sweet, saucy face warmed her to the core. Grumpy Mr. Hartog aside, life was pretty good, and tonight they were going to enjoy it.

  ~ ~ ~

  Danielle guided her car down the highway, a vise-like grip on the steering wheel. The doctor had called and asked her to come to his office … alone. He said they needed to discuss the results of Trevor’s blood tests. Her insides rolling with fear, she’d agreed to the three o’clock appointment.

  Trevor had returned to school that day, the fever gone. Danielle had decided he must be fine. Anything serious would linger around and cause more problems, right? But the doctor wouldn’t insist on talking to her in person if it was minor. More than once she fought the irrational urge to turn the car around and drive as fast as she could in the opposite direction. But common sense told her this was something she couldn’t escape. She kept driving toward the clinic, feeling like a convict walking to his execution.

  Drawing near to her destination, Danielle switched lanes and prepared to turn into the expansive parking lot. The closer she came to the doctor and his dreaded test results, the more she wished she’d brought someone with her. Kevin. If only Trevor’s father could be here with her. The year they’d fallen in love had been the best year of her life, so full of love and hope and promise. But he wasn’t a part of her life anymore. No one was. Not her parents, her brother, or anyone from her hometown. She and Trevor were alone in the world.

  Shame and hurt pressed in on her heart. Why didn’t she have people in her life who would share the joy and the pain with her? What had she done to deserve to live so isolated and alone? Janna was a good friend, but she had her own family. She couldn’t be expected to fill all the holes that pockmarked Danielle’s life.

  Just as quickly as the emotions had come, she shoved them away. She didn’t have the time or the luxury of indulging in self-pity or regrets. Besides, she didn’t want to share her life with any of the people from her past. They’d failed her and hurt her over and over. She would never give them the chance to wound her again. Never.

  Danielle found a parking space and tucked her keys into her purse. Eighty-degree temperatures oppressed her the instant she opened the car door. She forced herself to climb out and walk toward the clinic.

  Once inside, a nurse showed Danielle to the doctor’s office. A large desk and cluttered bookshelves crowded the small room. Pictures of the doctor in exotic locales—on a pier holding up a swordfish, standing atop a rocky boulder, kneeling in the cleft of a glacier—lined the walls. Vacations, she decided. Our co-pays at work.

  Having examined all the interesting scenery, she lowered herself into one of the guest chairs near his desk. Her collar seemed to grow tighter by the minute. She tugged at the neckline of her shirt, trying to catch her breath.

  Finally, the doctor entered, carrying a chart and looking grim. “Thank you for coming, Miss Jordan.” He sat at his desk and opened the file. Several seconds passed in weighted silence while he shuffled through papers.

  Danielle swallowed hard and forced herself to breathe slowly. Inhale. Exhale. One moment at a time. That was how she’d endure this. Inhale. Exhale.

  The doctor laid down the file and folded his hands over the stack. The sympathetic look in his eye confirmed her fears. Raw panic ripped through her. Run! Leave before he can say things you don’t want to hear. But fear, ripe and heavy, stole her breath and held her to the chair.

  “Miss Jordan, there’s no easy way to say this.” He shifted uneasily, causing his chair to hiss and squeak. “I’m sorry. Your son has leukemia.”

  Chapter Three

  “The Pediatric Cancer Center is only 130 miles away, close enough to commute, and they’re the best in this region. I’ve already placed a call. They can see you and Trevor tomorrow for an initial evaluation.”

  Her head spun like she was on a carousel ride, only there was no gay music or the carefree laughter of children at play. Just paralyzing horror. This couldn’t be happening. Surely she’d misunderstood. “I … I’m sorry. Did you say leukemia?”

  The doctor stared at his hands a moment before answering. “I won’t lie to you. His condition is serious. Cancer is a life-threatening disease. In cases like this, time is a critical factor. The sooner treatment begins, the better his chances. I don’t think you should delay.”

  Danielle pressed trembling fingers to her mouth and fought back a panicked sob. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “Then with your permission, I’ll fax them his chart today so they can review it before you arrive.”

  At her nod of approval, he rose and went to the door. He flagged down his nurse and handed her the file. “Fax this to the Pediatric Cancer Center to the attention of Dr. Shanglin. Confirm the appointment for tomorrow and print out directions for Miss Jordan, please.”

  “Yes, doctor.” She bustled off to do his bidding. He returned to his desk, shoulders slumping.

  A heavy sigh passed his lips, and his cheeks drooped down in a heavy frown. “If it means anything, I’m very sorry that Trevor is facing this. He’s a great kid. I wish things were different for you both.”

  “Thank you, doctor. I appreciate all your help.” The words barely made it past the aching lump in her throat.

  “Call us if you need anything. Questions, referrals … whatever. We aren’t qualified to handle his treatment, bu
t we’ll assist you any way we can.”

  He stared at her, as if waiting for a response, but her body and mind had gone numb with disbelief. How could this happen? To her child. Brutal implications shoved into her mind, pummeling her with dark fears and frightening outcomes she wasn’t prepared to face.

  She left his office in silence. The nurse met her down the hall and gave her information about the next appointment and driving instructions to the cancer center. Clutching the papers in her fist, Danielle stumbled through the lobby and out the clinic’s front doors.

  The smell of hot asphalt assaulted her nose and made her eyes water. Tears burned tracks down her cheeks, and her stomach began to roll until she had to swallow hard to keep her lunch down.

  Cancer. Cancer. Cancer.

  The dreadful word pounded against her with every step she took, leaving her weak with terror.

  Reaching her car, she sagged against the vehicle, sobs overtaking her as reality came crashing in like a terrible storm. “Trevor, I can’t lose you,” she wept. He was her baby, her family, her whole world. The possibility that the cancer could take him from her brought indescribable pain.

  What was she going to do? How could she get them through this? Unlike the other problems they’d faced, cancer couldn’t be fixed by working harder or being stronger. She couldn’t shield him with her courage and protect him with her love as she had in the past. She couldn’t prevent the suffering or the pain he would have to endure. Her heart spasmed when she thought of all he would face in the coming days.

  All we will face, she amended. Because one thing was for certain: she would be there by his side every minute, no matter how hard or painful it became. She would not abandon him or reject him during his hour of need no matter what the personal cost to herself.

  Trevor would never know pain like she had on that count.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dragging deep breaths into her lungs, she forced herself to calm down before she picked up Trevor from ball practice. She didn’t want him to sense her emotional upheaval. They would have to discuss his condition before the appointment tomorrow, but until she figured out how to explain the situation to him with calm confidence and assurances, she needed to keep things normal.

  At the school playground, she left the car windows down and walked to the baseball diamond. Practice was ending, and a dozen boys came running and whooping toward the group of mothers leaning against the fence that lined the field. Danielle stood off to the side, a stiff smile on her lips to hide the devastation she felt.

  Janna hovered in the middle of the group, talking and laughing. Her warmth and easy smile made her popular in any crowd. Danielle wished she could be more like her friend, but relating to people had always been so hard.

  When Janna saw her hovering on the fringes, she came to say hello. Her wiry red hair refused to be tamed by a scrunchie, and the smattering of freckles across her nose seemed more pronounced than usual. She carried a bat and mitt in one hand. The other rested on her son’s dirt-smudged shoulder. “Hey, Danielle. How are you?”

  The genuine concern in Janna’s green eyes weakened Danielle’s forced calm and nearly brought her to tears. “Kinda had a bad day.”

  Janna let go of Cory and reached for Danielle’s hand. “Want to talk about it?”

  Danielle knew if she talked, she’d lose it entirely. “Not here. Call me later?” She squeezed Janna’s fingers then let go.

  “Sure.” Janna tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “You wanna do lunch tomorrow?”

  Danielle shook her head. “Can’t.” She pressed her lips together, hoping Janna wouldn’t push for details. The threads of her composure were rapidly unraveling, and she couldn’t say more.

  Janna searched her face and opened her mouth to ask a question, but Trevor barreled between them, interrupting. “Mom, I hit a triple! Can you believe it?”

  Damp hair peeked from beneath his ball cap, and the knees of his jeans were caked with dirt. He bounced on his toes, energy rolling off him in waves. He looked happy and vibrant, like a little boy should. Smiling down at his cherubic face, the diagnosis seemed impossible to Danielle. Hope flared inside her for a brief moment before the oppressive weight of reality swooped in to suffocate it. She widened her smile, refusing to let her personal pain sully the moment.

  Janna flashed Trevor an affectionate smile, and winked at Danielle. “I’ll see you guys later.” Waving goodbye to other kids and moms, she urged Cory toward the parking lot.

  The coach stepped up as Janna left, dusting off his pants. “Hi, Danielle.” He pointed at Trevor. “Looks like I found my star hitter. He’ll be knocking them out of the park before the season ends.”

  Danielle felt a swell of pride. “He enjoys being on the team.” She tugged on the bill of Trevor’s baseball cap and pointed him toward their vehicle. “Go put your mitt in the car and buckle in, kiddo.” After Trevor scurried off, she turned to the coach. “Listen, we may not make it to the game this weekend.”

  He shrugged as if to say it was no big deal. “Everyone misses a game here and there. Practice same time next week, okay?”

  The courage to tell him that today was probably Trevor’s last practice for a while eluded her. She gave a vague nod and turned away before the tears could well up again. “Bye, coach.”

  She reached the parking lot just behind Trevor. After making sure he’d buckled in, she climbed into the car and started toward home. Thoughts of how to explain the situation to him, worries of what they’d face at tomorrow’s appointment, weighed heavily on her mind. She’d driven half the distance before Trevor interrupted her anxious thoughts.

  “Mommy, did I do something bad?”

  She paused at a stop sign and turned around to face him. “No, honey, why would you think that?”

  He shrugged. “Because you’re makin’ that face you made when I played with the lawnmower. You were real mad then.”

  Danielle reached back and patted his knee. “I wasn’t mad at you for playing with the lawnmower. I was scared. You could have hurt yourself. I love you, and I just wanted to keep you safe.”

  “Are you scared now?” He stared at her, his brown eyes curious.

  Her chest squeezed as if someone had clamped a vice around her heart. Her baby was growing up and getting way too perceptive. Forcing herself to smile, she rubbed a smudge of dirt off his cheek. “I’m just thinking about something. What do you want for dinner?” She faced the road and put the car in motion again.

  “Can we have pizza?”

  She glanced in the rearview mirror and blinked hard to keep the tears at bay. “Are you kidding? Of course, we can have pizza.”

  He smiled, showing a missing front tooth. “Awesome!”

  “And maybe afterward we can go out for ice cream cones.” She turned the car into their crushed-shell driveway and stopped beside the house.

  “Strawberry swirl!” he yelled.

  She grabbed her purse and opened her door. “I’m going to have peanut butter fudge.”

  Trevor climbed out of the car and followed her up the front walk, tossing his baseball cap in the air with enthusiasm.

  Danielle unlocked the door and entered the house, dropping her purse on a small table in the entry. “Think you can get a bath while I make the pizza?”

  Trevor dropped his cap by the coat tree and kicked off his tennis shoes. “Sure, Mom.”

  Danielle watched him retreat down the hall to his room, heaviness pressing against her ribs. He didn’t deserve the hardships he was about to face. A niggle of resentment wormed through her. Where was God when children suffered? The question wasn’t a new one to her. She had asked it many times during her own pain-filled youth but never received a satisfactory answer. Now she was asking again, and this time it was a matter of life and death.

  Chapter Four

  Danielle had delayed telling Trevor about the leukemia the night before, reluctant to give him upsetting news just before bedtime. He’d gone to bed blissfully happy after
their pizza and ice cream feast and an evening spent enjoying his mother’s undivided love and attention. She, on the other hand, had tossed and turned for hours, debating the best way to tell him and fretting about how he’d react.

  When he awoke in the morning, she told him he didn’t have to go to school that day. Instead they were going to take a short trip together. Kneeling before him so she could look him in the face, she explained his condition in the simplest terms possible. He listened quietly, his expression never changing.

  “Do you have any questions?” she asked after she’d delivered the short speech she’d prepared for him.

  He looked at her with eyes full of trust. “Will you hold my hand if there’s a needle?”

  Tears blurred her vision. “Of course, I will, sweetheart. I’ll be by your side every minute. We’re gonna do this together.”

  He nodded, seeming satisfied with her assurances. To be able to trust so fully and easily. She hoped he was never hurt so badly that he would lose that ability.

  The drive to the cancer center passed quickly. Danielle’s mind wandered down the dozens of scenarios they might encounter, considering how Trevor would handle them and how she could make the day less traumatic for him. In the back seat, Trevor played his Gameboy. The beeps and blips of the video game filled the car with familiar sounds, bringing a sense of normalcy to the otherwise unsettling circumstances.

  Too soon the hospital loomed up on the left side of the highway. Walls of golden stucco rose three stories and spread out across several acres. Windows dotted the walls at regular intervals and a red-tiled roof topped the structure. A large portico with graceful arches marked the main entrance, and tasteful landscaping softened the exterior. The place was not as large as Danielle had expected, nor as forbidding. It resembled a nice hotel built in a Spanish style. The nervous tension in her shoulders eased a bit.

  They parked and walked into the lobby, passing a gurgling fountain before coming to the front desk. “Name?” a sandy-haired woman asked with a warm smile.