Storybook Dad. Laura Bradford
Todd was angry, and she was determined to show anyone within a stone’s throw that she had things under control.
He understood that stage. He’d been there once, too.
“Daddy?”
The sound of his son’s tiny voice from the backseat derailed Mark’s thoughts and forced him to focus on the moment. “What is it, little man?”
“Is Emily gonna die like Mommy did?”
The question was like a punch to his gut, grabbing hold of the arm’s-length thoughts and bringing them much too close for comfort. Sneaking a peek at his son’s worried face peering at him through the rearview mirror, Mark did his best to change the subject.
“You know what? I think it’s time we dust off your bike and start working on getting rid of those training wheels sometime soon. What do you say?”
He released a sigh of relief when the little boy nodded and turned his gaze toward the passing scenery, leaving Mark to his own thoughts once again.
It was still so hard to believe. How could someone who looked like Emily be sick?
The same way Sally was …
Just the thought of his late wife brought a lump to his throat. Sally had been so healthy one minute and so sick the next, her all too quick downward spiral made even quicker by the way he’d handled everything. Burying his head in work might have made much of what was happening seem more distant, but it had also robbed him of the little time they had left.
Instead, it was Seth who had been by her side day in and day out, watching his mother slip away until she was gone for good. The memory made Mark sick. What kind of father placed a burden like that on a little boy?
A coward, that’s who …
Somehow, some way, Mark was going to make things right. He had to. He owed that much to the boy. And to Sally.
But try as he did to engage Seth in conversation for the remainder of the ride home, the worry he’d seen in his son’s eyes in the rearview mirror was still there when they returned home. It was there when they’d shared a bowl of ice cream at the kitchen counter. And it was still there when he kissed Seth’s forehead and tucked him under the sheets for the night.
Mark had seen that worry in his son’s eyes for far too long. He’d watched it eat away at the pure joy that had been Seth’s existence prior to Sally’s cancer diagnosis. And he’d sat by, virtually paralyzed by his own fear, while that worry had morphed into a steely determination to be what Mark himself seemed incapable of being.
But no more.
Seth had suffered enough for one lifetime.
It didn’t matter how hot Emily Todd was. It didn’t matter that her enthusiasm and boundless energy breathed life into Mark’s stagnant world.
All that mattered was Seth.
All that mattered was keeping his son from ever reliving the kind of grief that had consumed his young life to this point.
Pulling Seth’s bedroom door shut behind him, Mark wandered across the hall and into his own room, where the picture of Sally with Seth on his third birthday brought a familiar mist to his eyes.
With fingers that knew the way, he lifted the frame from his nightstand and slowly traced the contours of his wife’s face. “His heart is safe with me, Sally,” he whispered. “You have my word on that.”
Chapter Four
Emily pressed the intercom button on the side of her phone, working to make her voice sound casual and upbeat. “Trish? Any sign of Mr. Reynolds and his son yet?”
“Still nothing, boss.”
“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She pulled her finger back, only to shove it forward once again. “Um, Trish?”
“Yeah, boss.”
“My next class is at noon, right?” She glanced at the clock on the wall and noted the rapidly approaching hour.
“Noon it is.”
Her shoulders sank along with the tone of her voice. “Okay. Thanks.”
With her connection to her assistant broken, Emily pushed back her chair and stood, the enthusiasm that had marked the start of her day giving way to a serious case of unease.
Granted, she didn’t know Mark Reynolds all that well. How could she when they’d met just a measly twenty-six hours earlier? But no matter how hard she tried to pin his failure to show up for their first rock-climbing adventure on something as trivial as forgetfulness, she couldn’t.
Especially when it had meant so much to his son.
“Seth,” she whispered. That was it. Something must have come up with the little boy to cancel their outing and prevent Mark from calling to let her know. It was the only explanation that made any sense.
Perhaps the child was in bed with the flu, or a tummy ache from eating too much pizza the night before. Maybe he’d fallen on the way out to the car that morning and broken his arm, or something crazy like that. Or maybe he’d had a rough night without his mom, and Mark felt it was more important for the little guy to get some rest.
Emily knew it was silly to be so worried about a child she’d just met, but she couldn’t help herself. There was something special about Seth, something innocent and pure that spoke to her heart as nothing else had in years.
The fact that he’d been through so much in such a short period of time only served to bolster her gut feeling that Mark wouldn’t deny Seth an opportunity to make a new memory unless something fairly serious had intervened.
Her worry at an all-time high, Emily sank back into her desk chair and opened the top drawer. There, where she’d left it, was the card she couldn’t get out of her hands fast enough the day before.
Mark Reynolds
Field Worker
Folks Helping Folks Foundation
555-555-5555
Inhaling deeply, she reached for the phone and punched in the number, the final digit quickly followed by a ring that led straight to a nondescript voice mail. When the recording completed its request for her name, number and reason for calling, she obliged, her voice a poor disguise for the worry she wasn’t terribly adept at hiding.
“Urn … hi. Uh, it’s Emily. Emily Todd. From yesterday? At Bucket List 101 … and, um, the pizza place?” Realizing she sounded like an idiot, she got to the point, the disappointment she felt over having to wait for a response undeniable. “I got your number from your business card. Could you please give me a call when you get this? Thanks.”
She reeled off her phone number, returned the handset to its cradle and then dropped her head into her hands. She’d done everything she could, short of driving back and forth across town trying to guess where Mark and Seth Reynolds lived. All she could do now was wait.
And pray that the images continuing to loop through her thoughts were the by-product of an overactive imagination rather than a spot-on radar that made absolutely no sense where a virtual stranger and his son were concerned.
MARK CROUCHED DOWN beside Laurie’s desk and placed a gentle yet firm hand on his son’s shoulder. “Now remember what I told you, little man. Miss Laurie has work to do. So it’s super important that you sit in this nice seat right here and keep yourself busy, okay?”
Seth nodded.
“And as for me? I’ll be in that conference room right there—” he pointed toward the open door just beyond the secretary’s desk “—if you have an emergency. But since I just took you to the bathroom, and I’ll only be in my meeting for about a half hour, you should be good on that front, right?”
“I’ll be good,”