Her Motherhood Wish (Parent Portal 3)

And heard his phone signal a text.

Message from doctor. Scheduled appointment tomorrow at ten to discuss results.

Sander in hand, he stood there, suspended. Read the text a second time. Put the sander down.

Any

indications of what they are? His big thumbs didn’t type fast enough for him.

Just a message from a call service, haven’t talked to anyone yet. I chose to make the appointment and hear in person. Because I’ll have questions and it’s best to have those answers immediately available...

She’s scared, he translated mentally. Putting off the news for one more night. Putting herself in hell, was more like it. But he understood, too. If the news was bad, living with it all night without finding out how bad, knowing percentages and next steps, would be excruciating.

But if it was good...

I’d like to take you to the appointment.

Let her argue with him, or worry about how she couldn’t let herself rely on him, to take her mind off matters of so much greater importance. She was less than ten minutes away if she was at home. He wanted to go to her. Just to sit there, if nothing else. He didn’t kid himself that he had some magic, proven cure for real or potential tragedy. But he understood the benefit of having another presence nearby so that the world didn’t completely close in on you.

Thank you.

So...that was a yes? Just like that?

What time? he typed.

9:30.

For a ten o’clock appointment, just a few minutes away.

I’ll be there.

He set the phone down. Picked up the sander while he awaited her response. Wanted to get the last coat of varnish on so that it would have time to dry before morning. Wanted to focus on what he could affect. To control the emotions that would overtake him if he gave them the slightest chance. He needed to maintain control so that he could help her.

At nine he finished sanding. And had heard nothing more from Cassie.

By ten, he’d finished the last coat of varnish and was headed back to the house, Retro by his side and phone in hand. He started the conversation about commercials with an easy quote: “Plop, plop, fizz, fizz...”

She responded immediately, finishing the line.

By 2:00 a.m., he was out of commercials. And moved on to old sitcoms.

He should be tired. Saying good-night. Getting a few hours’ sleep. But he didn’t.

Cassie was still awake. And so he’d type all night, if that’s what it took.

In a matter of days, the woman had become a part of his life.

Chapter Eight

In a black-and-white flowered T-shirt dress that clearly showed her little baby bump, Cassie smiled at Wood as he held his truck door for her Saturday morning. Right on time.

She’d worn three pairs of flip-flop-shaped earrings in each ear, one silver with black flowers, one white with silver flowers and one black with white trim. She was ready to collect important information, and that was all. Dealing with whatever she heard would come later. Just get the information and go. Then deal with it.

She had her plan. You couldn’t deal until you knew. So she couldn’t have a plan for dealing until she knew what she had to deal with. Collect the information. Go. Deal.

Deal. Deal. Deal.

She could and she would.