“You want a Cinnamon Stick?”
“No, I’m full.” Chase nodded then chomped one more bite. Still chewing, he stood to leave.
“I miss mommy.” Parker’s simple statement hit Chase like a drive-by shooting, causing him to choke on the remnants of his iceberg lettuce.
Chase gulped, then said, “I know you do, son. I do too.”
“Is mommy ever coming back from her trip?”
It had been almost a year since Heather deserted her son without so much as a call. Chase despised lying to Parker, even if it was for his own good. Max’s words resonated inside as Chase’s usually lucid mind went haywire. What could he say? Parker believed in dragons and elves, but somehow, seemed to figure out his mommy’s return was a myth. It was time.
Chase drew a deep breath, then said, “Buddy, I’m not sure. Your mommy’s sick and needs to keep going to different doctors.”
“When’s she gonna get better?”
“I don’t know, son. I don’t know.” Chase glanced away, eyes stinging. He rubbed his eyes, brooding, then regained his composure. He said, “We’ll say a prayer for her tonight. Which reminds me, we better head back home, mister. It’s going to be your bedtime soon.”
The question dampened a great day like raindrops on a beach. Even Raffi couldn’t ease the heaviness in Parker’s heart. Chase sensed Parker was confused about things. Parker liked Oksana and, in many ways, treated the affable nanny like a mother; but Chase realized there was no substitute for his mommy. Now that Heather was trying to call, he wondered why. What could she possibly say to her son? Life would never be back to normal for Parker and it sickened Chase more than the deception.
Back at home, Parker put up his usual battle for a delayed bedtime. Chase compromised by agreeing to read a story before light’s out. “This one.” Parker handed his father “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” As he finished reading, Aesop’s message of always telling the truth hit Chase hard. Thinking there are no coincidences, he glanced up, wondering if this was one of those not-so-subtle times.
Chase set the book on the bedside table, and said, “Let’s say your special prayer.”
Parker looked exhausted as the fun from earlier caught up. Chase said, “Lord…” and waited for Parker to join in, “Help me be the best I can. Help me to do what’s right and treat other people like I want to be treated. Amen.”
As Chase stood, Parker said, “What about our special prayer for mommy?”
“Oh, sorry.” Sitting back down on the bed, Chase brushed his son’s curly hair back and said, “What do you want to say?”
“Lord, please help mommy get better and come home to play with me. Amen.”
Chase stood up and turned away so his son wouldn’t see his tears. Parker’s sweet voice—the voice of an angel—played on his heartstrings. He missed his mother. No matter how nice of a day Parker spent with him, he missed mommy. How could she ever do this to such an innocent child?
With slumped shoulders, Chase trudged back to his bedroom. He approached the bed, the same bed where Parker was conceived and dropped to his knees. He said his own prayer, Lord God, thank you for all my blessings. I’m not here to question your will, but for some reason, you’re testing me. I accept it even though I don’t fully understand. Please bestow me the strength to raise Parker, to be his father and his mother all in one. I really tried today but feel I’ve failed. Please help me .
Chapter 9
Brooke tossed and turned all night, until her alarm rang like a sonic boom. She needed caffeine this morning, thinking maybe this was divine intervention. Today would be a perfect day to run. As each inactive day accumulated, she felt flabby and lethargic. Inspecting her ankle, the black and blue appeared light gray with blue highlights. Improvement. She was nowhere near ready for a run, but she desperately needed exercise. She clutched the ankle supports as if weighing them.
“No, I’m full.” Chase nodded then chomped one more bite. Still chewing, he stood to leave.
“I miss mommy.” Parker’s simple statement hit Chase like a drive-by shooting, causing him to choke on the remnants of his iceberg lettuce.
Chase gulped, then said, “I know you do, son. I do too.”
“Is mommy ever coming back from her trip?”
It had been almost a year since Heather deserted her son without so much as a call. Chase despised lying to Parker, even if it was for his own good. Max’s words resonated inside as Chase’s usually lucid mind went haywire. What could he say? Parker believed in dragons and elves, but somehow, seemed to figure out his mommy’s return was a myth. It was time.
Chase drew a deep breath, then said, “Buddy, I’m not sure. Your mommy’s sick and needs to keep going to different doctors.”
“When’s she gonna get better?”
“I don’t know, son. I don’t know.” Chase glanced away, eyes stinging. He rubbed his eyes, brooding, then regained his composure. He said, “We’ll say a prayer for her tonight. Which reminds me, we better head back home, mister. It’s going to be your bedtime soon.”
The question dampened a great day like raindrops on a beach. Even Raffi couldn’t ease the heaviness in Parker’s heart. Chase sensed Parker was confused about things. Parker liked Oksana and, in many ways, treated the affable nanny like a mother; but Chase realized there was no substitute for his mommy. Now that Heather was trying to call, he wondered why. What could she possibly say to her son? Life would never be back to normal for Parker and it sickened Chase more than the deception.
Back at home, Parker put up his usual battle for a delayed bedtime. Chase compromised by agreeing to read a story before light’s out. “This one.” Parker handed his father “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” As he finished reading, Aesop’s message of always telling the truth hit Chase hard. Thinking there are no coincidences, he glanced up, wondering if this was one of those not-so-subtle times.
Chase set the book on the bedside table, and said, “Let’s say your special prayer.”
Parker looked exhausted as the fun from earlier caught up. Chase said, “Lord…” and waited for Parker to join in, “Help me be the best I can. Help me to do what’s right and treat other people like I want to be treated. Amen.”
As Chase stood, Parker said, “What about our special prayer for mommy?”
“Oh, sorry.” Sitting back down on the bed, Chase brushed his son’s curly hair back and said, “What do you want to say?”
“Lord, please help mommy get better and come home to play with me. Amen.”
Chase stood up and turned away so his son wouldn’t see his tears. Parker’s sweet voice—the voice of an angel—played on his heartstrings. He missed his mother. No matter how nice of a day Parker spent with him, he missed mommy. How could she ever do this to such an innocent child?
With slumped shoulders, Chase trudged back to his bedroom. He approached the bed, the same bed where Parker was conceived and dropped to his knees. He said his own prayer, Lord God, thank you for all my blessings. I’m not here to question your will, but for some reason, you’re testing me. I accept it even though I don’t fully understand. Please bestow me the strength to raise Parker, to be his father and his mother all in one. I really tried today but feel I’ve failed. Please help me .
Chapter 9
Brooke tossed and turned all night, until her alarm rang like a sonic boom. She needed caffeine this morning, thinking maybe this was divine intervention. Today would be a perfect day to run. As each inactive day accumulated, she felt flabby and lethargic. Inspecting her ankle, the black and blue appeared light gray with blue highlights. Improvement. She was nowhere near ready for a run, but she desperately needed exercise. She clutched the ankle supports as if weighing them.
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