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TWO HOURS IN THE ER, and Mercy still didn’t know what was wrong with her son. She leaned to him, so small in the big hospital bed, and took his hand.
A knife seemed to turn in her chest.
The mere sight of the ER, the scent of antiseptics and medicine, the murmur of patients, the atmosphere of worry and pain that hung heavily in the air brought back memories. From the ER, Cole had been taken into surgery. That had been the last time she’d seen him alive.
Mercy’s skin crawled, and she shivered. She couldn’t let anything like that happen to her son.
Ethan peeled himself from the wall, shrugged out of his jacket, and draped it over her shoulders. She allowed herself to welcome its warmth, the spicy scent of Ethan’s cologne.
“Stevie will be all right.” Ethan’s whisper was soft, reassuring.
She held onto those words.
Dear Lord, please help my son. Amen.
She’d prayed a lot during the last two hours.
“Would you like to get some rest? I can stay with Stevie.” Ethan touched her shoulder.
Mercy shook her head. “I’m not leaving.”
Ethan nodded. “I kind of knew you’d say that. But I figured I’d ask anyway.”
How had she missed the signs of sickness? She must be a horrible mother. What was happening to her boy? “Shouldn’t they know something by now?” She was desperate for information, for something that would help her son feel better.
“They said they needed to run more tests.” Ethan’s voice was full of concern.
“I’m glad you’re here with me,” she whispered.
“Ditto.”
With the exception of the time of her marriage, when he’d stepped back, Ethan had always been there for her. When she’d scratched her knees after falling from a bike. When she’d received bad grades. Ethan had stood by her side at Cole’s funeral. Ethan had brought soup and medicine when Stevie had the flu. Ethan had stayed with her son when Mercy’s boss had made her work long hours.
Somehow, with Ethan’s incredibly busy work schedule and social life, he’d always managed to be by her side when she’d needed it the most.
Like now.
Half an hour later, they finally got the news.
Stevie needed an expensive heart surgery for a defect that somehow had been missed at birth. The surgery had to be done in a Houston hospital. Mercy gasped as her heart dropped to the floor. Her new health insurance wouldn’t cover the surgery; she knew that much. Even if she sold all her meager possessions, it wouldn’t cover the cost.
Cole’s parents had written off her and Stevie, blaming her for Cole’s death. They wouldn’t help. Anyway, neither they nor her parents had the money needed. If she applied for a loan at the bank, it wouldn’t get approved, due to Cole destroying their credit.
“There’s going to be a long recovery period, too,” the doctor continued. “At least a month. His incisions will need to be taken care of, and he’ll need therapy.”
Mercy felt as if the floor moved under her feet and she nearly collapsed to the ground. Ethan wrapped his arm around her shoulder, as if to keep her steady.
Her boss had already made it clear that Mercy couldn’t miss any more days, never mind a full month.
What am I to do?
She said a silent prayer.
“I’m sorry. But this needs to be done soon.” The doctor’s gaze was compassionate.
“Of course, Doctor. Please do everything you can to help my son.” She squeezed Stevie’s tiny fingers.
The doctor nodded and left.
Mercy’s mind whirled. She’d have to find a way out. She had to!
“I’d be happy to pay for everything. I can hire a nurse to stay with Stevie during the recuperation period.” Ethan’s voice was low. “But I know you wouldn’t take a handout.”
She shook her head. “I want to stay with my son myself and take care of him.”
Mercy felt cornered. She’d never compromise her Christian beliefs.
She leaned over her son, smoothed his ruffled hair, and kissed his forehead. “I love you, sweetie. It’s going to be all right.”
Then she sank into the chair.
Ethan stepped to her, squatted in front of her, and took her hands in his. “You won’t have to live in the same house with me if we’re married. You can stay in the guesthouse and take care of Stevie.”
“Really?” She looked into his eyes, wanting to lean into him. But instead she moved one hand and wrapped her fingers around Stevie’s.
“Really. C’mon, how many years have we known each other? You won’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You can quit the job where you’re not appreciated and find a better one. You deserve it. And Stevie deserves to be happy and healthy.”
She was drawn to Ethan. Much more than she should have been. When her world was falling apart, he was someone to lean on. But could she commit herself to being married to someone who didn’t love her? A lifetime of a loveless marriage, and that was if Ethan didn’t leave her in a year or less.
“Of course, there’s a catch.” Ethan’s eyes narrowed.
Sure enough. “What’s that?”
“You won’t be able to date and/or marry anyone while we’re together.”
Mercy heaved a sigh of relief. “I wasn’t going to do that anyway. But it means you won’t be able to date, either.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “Not a problem. I don’t want you to agree because you have to. The offer to pay for everything is still standing.”
“But you can’t put me on your health insurance if I’m not your wife.” She had to make the decision and make it fast.
Dear Heavenly Father, please guide me. Amen.
Mercy squeezed her little boy’s hand.
Stevie opened his eyes. “Mommy?”
The love for her boy was so overwhelming that her breath caught in her throat. She had to do what was best for her son. “Sweetie, what do you think if we go live in Mr. Ethan’s guesthouse?”
“There will be lots of toys, a swing, and a tree house.” Ethan winked at the child.
“That’s a bribe,” Mercy mouthed to him.
“Yay! Can we, Mommy?” A weak smile appeared on the boy’s face. “Pretty please?”
Please forgive me, Lord.
“I meant what I said. I don’t want to be married just for a year. I want to be married for the rest of my life,” Mercy whispered.
Ethan’s face lit up. “Then let’s make it work.”
Hope entered her heart. Hope that her son would be okay and that she’d have a family once again. And hope that, unbelievably, Ethan would be happy with one woman. Because when she looked in his eyes, she found herself on the road from attraction to something much stronger.
Was she too naïve to believe that?
But after all, her heartache was a small price to pay for her son’s well-being.
***
MERCY NEVER IMAGINED she’d be married like that. The ceremony in the hospital room in Houston was small and rushed, with barely any guests in attendance, besides Ethan’s parents and brother. And the person whom she’d wanted to see at her wedding the most, her son, was still in the hospital room.
She’d skipped the bouquet. Instead of the flowers’ scent, she inhaled the smell of medicine and antiseptics.
Mercy would’ve skipped the white gown, too. But Ethan’s mother had insisted on Mercy wearing hers, which fitted well enough. There was no veil, and Mercy was fine with that.
Her parents didn’t have a chance to fly from Colorado, where they’d moved after retirement, in time for the wedding. They hadn’t been too enthusiastic of her marrying a known player to start with.
Mercy’s mother’s voice rang in her ears as she struggled not to bolt.
We told you not to marry Cole, and you didn’t listen to us. Look how that turned out. Why would you want to marry a womanizer? He’ll leave you in a month or two.
Mercy plastered a smile on her face for appearances’ sake. She didn’t want to show her doubts to Ethan’s parents and brother. She’d insisted on no reception while Stevie was in the hospital. Maybe it was unfair to Ethan, but she just couldn’t celebrate, at least not yet.
After the ceremony, she, Ethan, and his parents and brother walked outside to a small park near the hospital.
“Are you okay?” Ethan whispered as he kissed her on the cheek.
She closed her eyes so nobody would guess her true feelings and forced a brighter smile than before. She opened her eyes, touched by the concerned look in his. He squeezed her fingers, as if to show his silent support.
Her heart fluttered in her chest. A real smile tugged at her lips when she peered at his handsome face, at his pink tie skewed to the side, and her hand in his.
Falling in love with Ethan wouldn’t be such a hardship. But loving him without having her feelings returned, seeing him close and knowing his heart didn’t belong to her would be much more difficult to bear. She’d learned the hard way that sometimes her love just wasn’t enough.
“You’re the most beautiful bride in the world.” Ethan’s voice sounded sincere. “I’ll do everything to make this marriage work.”
Instead of calming her doubts, his words made her tense. Cole had said something similar on the day of their wedding. He’d probably meant it, too. But his addiction to gambling had been stronger than his love for her. Could she make this marriage better than her first one?
She found herself praying again and again. She asked God for Stevie’s complete healing.
And she prayed to God to make the marriage work because she didn’t know how.
***
SEVERAL DAYS LATER, Mercy entered the huge mansion in the most prestigious neighborhood in Rios Azules.
She looked around at the high ceilings, chandeliers, a huge-screen TV, and leather furniture. If the guesthouse was furnished like that, it would take some adjustment to get used to.
“How do you like it?” Ethan stepped behind her, carrying a sleeping Stevie.
“It looks... expensive.” She shrugged.
Tenderness made her heart swell as she looked at her sweet boy. They weren’t out of the woods yet. But the surgery was a success, according to the doctor, and hopefully, the worst was behind them.
Her boy had fallen asleep on the way home. No, this wasn’t home. She’d be better off to remember that.
“Expensive. Huh. I was striving for modern. Unless you’d like to have a tour of the house, let’s go to the guesthouse then. I hope you’ll like it more,” Ethan said.
When Mercy entered the guesthouse, her jaw slackened. Though the house only had two bedrooms and obviously was much smaller than the mansion, it was much cozier, too. The latte-colored sofa with bright throw pillows looked comfortable. The rug on the floor matched the pillows in color. Paintings of sparrows on the walls gave her a warm feeling. And hyacinths decorated an antique carved table. Her favorite flowers...
She loved the color of the walls, too. Salad green.
“Wow. This is amazing.” An unwelcome thought made her pause. Had one of his girlfriends decorated this place? But then how could so many things appeal exactly to her, Mercy?
“My male cousins who live out of state stayed here sometimes. No one else.” Ethan seemed to read her thoughts.
“But how? This doesn’t look like you. This place looks like... me.”
“That’s because I decorated it for you. Well, for you and Stevie. Let me show you his room. By the way, I got that table at the thrift store. Got a really good deal.” He headed to one of the bedrooms.
And she thought she knew Ethan well. He still managed to surprise her. “You shop at thrift stores?”
“No, but you would.” He entered the room. “Painted the walls your favorite color, too.”
“You paint?”
“I used to repair and paint cars, remember? Don’t sound so surprised.” Ethan placed Stevie on the bed.
Mercy looked around. Rows of toy cars were lined up near the corner, as well as a train station. Cars were painted on the wall, too, and a little blanket had a pattern with fire trucks, police cars, and taxis. Stars were shining on the ceiling.
She covered her son with a blanket. Her son would love it here. So much that he’d be heartbroken to leave in a year. A vise squeezed her heart.
Stevie stirred. “Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetie. How do you feel?”
“Good.” His eyelids drooped, but he seemed to make an effort to keep his eyes open. “Bedtime prayers?”
Mercy smiled. “Let’s pray, sweetie.”
“Dear Lord, please keep Mommy, Grandma, Grandpa, and Mr. Ethan safe in Your care. Please help Mommy be happy again. I love You, Lord. Amen.”
As Mercy tucked her little boy in bed, his prayer tugged at her heartstrings. She was grateful he was growing up a God-loving Christian.
And even in prayer, Stevie didn’t ask anything for himself but for others. For her to be happy.
Stevie had included Ethan in his prayer...
Mercy placed a kiss on her son’s forehead and tiptoed out of the room. She didn’t want to think what would happen if, in a year or two, Ethan got tired of the arrangement and left. After all, wasn’t he addicted to female attention? And she knew too well what addiction could do to a person.
***
FIVE DAYS LATER, MERCY hummed a tune as she moved around the kitchen. Stevie was watching cartoons, and Ethan was still at work. Stevie had been extra cranky after yesterday’s therapy session and today’s care of the incisions. So she’d allowed him to watch cartoons more than she usually would have and decided to make one of his favorite dishes, chicken mole and Mexican rice. Stevie deserved it after being on a liquid diet after the surgery and then days of mild, tasteless dishes.
And let’s face it, she wanted to give Ethan a pleasant surprise. He deserved a reward, too, for eating baked fish, steamed rice, and steamed vegetables, as well as vegetable soups, with no complaints. Overall, Ethan had been polite and attentive, as if giving her space, though she wished he hadn’t given her this much space. So far, they’d spent evenings taking turns reading books to Stevie.
Ethan hadn’t gone out even once. Her heart made a tumble in her chest as every time she thought about her husband.
Husband.
She still couldn’t get used to that.
Mercy turned the chicken in the large skillet, making sure the pieces were cooked well on all sides. The scent of almonds, sesame seeds, cinnamon, toasted chilies, and vegetables she’d used to make the mole sauce still hung in the air, making her smile. Her mother had always added chocolate while making mole, but this time most of the chocolate had ended up in Mercy’s stomach instead of the blender. The chocolate that Ethan had brought for her...
She’d used less spices than her mother had taught her, skipping the oregano and thyme because of Stevie.
The sight of the chicken and the scents reminded her of those rare moments in her childhood when her mother had found time for cooking and teaching her how to make Mexican food. As they lived in south Texas, loving Mexican food was a must. Knowing how to cook it came in handy, considering Ethan’s heritage.
Mercy frowned for a moment. She’d have none of that restaurant takeout and home delivery thing that Ethan apparently had been accustomed to nearly daily.
Now, the chicken looked golden-brown from all sides.
“Beautiful!” Mercy muttered to herself as she turned off the fire on the stove.
She fished out her brand-new phone—Ethan’s gift—from her pocket and pulled up the app that showed Stevie’s room. Having cameras in the rooms was an unexpected luxury. This kitchen, equipped with stainless-steel appliances, granite countertops, and a brand-new stove, was beyond luxury.
In her previous apartment, she was grateful if her faucet didn’t leak or the stove wasn’t super rusty.
Really, cooking in this kitchen was a delight. Mercy carefully removed the hot chicken from the skillet and put the pieces into a large bowl. Then she poured mole sauce into the same skillet and turned on the stove again. She glanced at the clock above the stove. She needed to let it simmer for about five minutes or so.
It was about time to start on the rice. She’d cook it the way Stevie liked it. She poured olive oil in another large saucepan and let it heat up. Then she added rice and stirred it.
After moving to the guest house, Mercy had rediscovered her passion for cooking, now that she didn’t have to choose between working long hours and taking care of family. There was something soothing in making dinner from scratch, breathing in the mouth watering scents, and anticipating the delicious first bites and smiles on the faces of the people dear to her. And thankfully, she knew Ethan’s and Stevie’s tastes rather well.
Just a little more time, and Ethan would be home.
Or... would he?
What if he stayed working late, or...
A chill ran down her spine, reminding her of all the nights she’d waited for Cole.
Waited in vain.
Mercy dismissed the memories with effort as she kept stirring. So far, Ethan had come home every day at a quarter after five. She could trust Ethan.
Just like I trusted Cole.
Stirring the rice with her left hand, Mercy took out her phone from her jeans pocket with her right one and checked on Stevie again. Her little boy was still watching cartoons. He was pale and not his vivacious self yet. But he was recovering well, according to the doctor, and her heart filled with contentment.
She put her phone back inside her pocket. Five minutes was up, so she left the rice to its own affairs. Mercy transferred the pieces of chicken back into the skillet and covered it with a transparent lid. She set the alarm twenty minutes ahead and let chicken simmer together with the mole sauce. Then she stirred the rice again, just as it was starting to turn a golden color.
So far, so good.
Now, it was time to add the vegetables to the rice. Oh, how she loved the scents of freshly cut vegetables!
But first, she needed to check on Stevie. She dashed into his room. “Are you okay, honey?”
“Yes, Mommy. So many cartoons!” Stevie smiled at her, making her heart warm.
Ethan’s cable had way more channels than her meager subscription ever had. Mercy kissed Stevie on the cheek. “Dinner will be ready soon. Chicken mole and rice.”
“Thank you, Mommy!” That was a very enthusiastic reply, especially considering what the poor boy had to eat for days after the hospital. “I’m hungry!”
Happy her son’s appetite had returned, Mercy dashed back into the kitchen and stirred the rice again. Thankfully, it hadn’t burned. Swiftly, she chopped garlic and added it to the rice. Another couple of stirs. Then she cut an onion, a pepper, and a couple of large tomatoes into small pieces. She added chicken broth, vegetables, tomato paste, and spices into the saucepan. Then she stirred it with passion.
Looking good.
Mercy lowered the fire underneath the rice and covered it. The alarm sounded, announcing the chicken mole was ready, so she turned the heat off under that skillet. She set a new alarm for another twenty minutes for the rice.
She placed a can of beans on the counter and opened a pack of tortillas, her few concessions to making everything from scratch today. She put a small skillet on the stove, lit fire under it, and started warming up the tortillas one by one. While transferring a tortilla from the skillet into a plastic container, she glanced at the clock.
Mercy grinned. She still had time to make guacamole while the rice was cooking.
Ethan loved guacamole.
A strange anticipation built in the pit of her stomach as she placed avocados, tomatoes, and mayonnaise on the counter and started working on the guacamole.
Frankly, so much food was an unexpected luxury, as well. All the money Cole had made he’d lost due to gambling. Living hand to mouth had made her creative about what to make for dinner. It had also forced her to go half-hungry most days, giving whatever food she could to Stevie.
“It smells great!” Ethan’s voice made her turn around.
Mercy nearly dropped the knife. It wasn’t even five yet. “You’re home already? I mean, visiting me. I mean...” She was babbling. Why was she babbling? This was Ethan, the friend she’d known forever.
The man who now was her husband.
He was already dressed in comfortable slacks and a T-shirt, so he’d probably stopped at the mansion to change.
“Yes, I’m home.” Ethan stepped forward and hugged her.
The hug was gentle, non-intrusive, and still she felt it all the way to her toes. A wave of joy spread through her.
Huh. She shouldn’t be this excited that her husband simply came home.
Ethan gave her a long look that stopped at her lips, and her heart started beating faster.
“Mercy...” His voice sounded hoarse.
Her pulse went into overdrive. Was he about to kiss her?
The alarm sounded.
Ethan stepped back, and she fought the sting of disappointment.
Wait a minute.
Did she want him to kiss her?
“Rice is ready.” She turned off the heat underneath the skillet.
She should’ve set the alarm for thirty minutes instead of twenty. It would’ve made for fluffier rice.
Ethan sniffed the air. “You know I love chicken mole.” He glanced at the counter. “Guacamole, too. And yes, I prefer flour tortillas to corn tortillas.”
Mercy tensed. She knew him well enough to know what kind of tortillas he preferred. But she also knew him well enough to know that he liked the company of a different female each month or even more often.
“Thank you for making it.” He washed his hands and dried them on the kitchen towel.
“No need to thank me. I’m your wife, and I love cooking. Especially when I have ingredients to cook.” Her hand flew to her mouth. She shouldn’t have said the last part.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Then he headed to the stove.
Mercy intercepted him. “Oh, no, sir, you don’t. Wait until I set the table.”
“Sure. Let me help you.” Ethan grabbed a stack of plates.
As they placed plates then utensils on the table together, a new feeling entered Mercy’s heart. Cole had never helped her around the kitchen. Well, one of the reasons had been that he’d often been absent from family dinners to start with.
Ethan transferred chicken from the saucepan into a large dish and brought it to the table. “I’ll go get Stevie.”
Mercy nodded as she did the same with the rice. “Please make sure he washes his hands.”
Ethan headed in the direction of Stevie’s room, and moments later she heard her son’s excited voice, “Mr. Ethan!”
Whether her son was getting attached to Ethan wasn’t a question any longer. It was a statement. With Cole being gone from home a lot of the time, Stevie wasn’t spoiled by attention from a father figure. Mercy sighed as she placed the container of tortillas on the table. Was she a bad mother for introducing a ladies’ man into her little boy’s life?
There was a skip in Stevie’s step when he came to the table. “Great, Mommy! So much food!”
Mercy swallowed hard as she put a pitcher with iced tea on the table. Her son wasn’t spoiled by the abundance of food, either. She’d done her best to provide for Stevie, but after all the damage Cole had incurred, her best wasn’t enough.
With chicken covered in chocolate-brown sauce, orange-golden rice, and bright green guacamole, the table looked colorful.
She sat down and waited for everyone else to sit down, too. Ethan reached for the tortilla, but Stevie tugged on his sleeve. “Mr. Ethan, wait. Mommy will say grace.”
Mercy bowed her head. “Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for this food, and please bless it and make it nutritious to us. Please keep our family safe in Your care. Please help my son recover completely after the surgery. And please help those people who need help right now. We love You, Lord. Amen.”
“Amen,” Stevie said.
Ethan’s gaze was thoughtful.
Something changed inside Mercy.
Was there hope for them, after all?
