A Dad of His Own by Gail Gaymer Martin Page B

Cooper’s needs.
    She resigned and accepted his offer, and while he rinsed the dishes and stacked them for the dishwasher, she covered the uneaten food and placed it in the refrigerator. “Coop curled up his nose earlier, but I’m hoping he’ll eat something later.”
    “You mean something besides cake.” He chuckled, hoping the lighthearted comment might cheer her.
    She grinned. “You never know.” She glanced at her watch. “Let’s check on him. He’s rested a long time.”
    Ethan rose and followed her, happy to see the second floor of the house. Near the staircase, he paused. “Should I bring this up?” He motioned to the chair where he’d left the birthday present he’d bought.
    “No. He’ll come down, I’m sure.” The tone of her voice didn’t fit the positive statement.
    Ethan felt the weight of her worry as he climbed the stairs. At the top, he followed Lexie to a spacious hallway as large as another den, except for the numerous doors leading to the other rooms. “I like this. It’s different.”
    “They called it a playroom when I bought the house, but it’s great for many things. I thought about moving my office from the den to here. But Cooper loves to sit by the windowand do puzzles or read. The light is great in the morning. So it’s sort of a…room.”
    He chuckled. “Rooms are handy.” He scanned the wide triple windows where two easy chairs sat with a lamp table between, and another larger table farther over where one of Cooper’s puzzles was partly completed. He could picture Lexie sitting on one of the chairs close to Cooper’s bedroom, her feet on the ottoman, waiting and worrying alone. He adjusted his expression, fearing she would sense his thoughts.
    But she had continued ahead. He watched her push open a door and stand inside the threshold. The room lay in shadow. He stood back, waiting for her to give him a sign to join her.
    “Coop?” She stepped deeper into the room. “You don’t want to miss your birthday party, do you?”
    Ethan could make out Cooper’s voice but not what he’d said.
    Lexie reappeared in the doorway and motioned him forward.
    An unexpected hesitation shivered through him as he pictured the clever boy bound to a sick bed. He forced his legs to move and planted a pleasant look on his face before he stepped inside the room. As he did, the darkness brightened with lamplight.
    Lexie shifted away from the nightstand and beckoned him closer.
    He eyed the boy’s pale face, his dinner knotting in his stomach. “Happy birthday, Cooper.”
    The child’s face was paler than Ethan remembered, with shadows below his eyes the way he recalled Laine’s face after a difficult treatment. The memory deepened his sorrow for Cooper and Lexie.
    Cooper gave a little wave and worked his way to a sitting position. “Did you already eat the cake?”
    “Cake? No. We waited for you.” Lexie rubbed the top of his bald head. “And I have some dinner ready if you feel like eating.”
    He shrugged, pushing back the blankets and swinging his feet over the edge of the mattress, wearing spaceship pajamas. “I don’t want to miss my own birthday.”
    Ethan chuckled at the expression on his face. The boy still had a sense of humor. He backed away again and moved to the door, then slipped out, allowing Lexie privacy to help Cooper get ready. Trying to keep himself from dwelling on the child’s illness, Ethan stood in the playroom, noticing two doors ajar revealing a bathroom and laundry room. The other two rooms were closed. He assumed they were bedrooms. While he admired the layout, Cooper’s weary conversation reached him. He missed the eager lilt of the boy’s voice that he’d heard before.
    Rather than linger there, he crossed to the staircase and took the steps to the living room. Seconds later, Cooper made his way down the stairs with Lexie following. He’d changed into his jeans and a T-shirt with a cartoon character on the front, one Ethan didn’t