August
“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE UP FOR IT?” ARM AROUND KENDRA’S waist, Lance helped her down the stairs. “We can do this another time.”
“I don’t even know what ‘this’ is,” Kendra said. “But you told me you had a surprise, and I want to see it.”
“That was before you started having those spasms.”
Kendra had had her third chemo session yesterday, with Lance accompanying her for the first time. Since she usually didn’t get hit with the worst effects until two to three days after, he thought it would be safe to plan the surprise for today.
“It’s not like we’re leaving the house,” Kendra said. “I’ll just lie down if it gets bad.”
Lance looked at her, wishing he could take away her pain. “Have I told you how much I admire you?”
She looked surprised. “For what?”
“For the way you’re dealing with such a horrible disease,” Lance said. “I know there are times when the pain is excruciating, but you don’t give up.”
“Someone once told me I could live in the midst of this.” Kendra paused. “I’ve never forgotten your words. I might’ve started falling for you that day.”
“Oh, you might’ve, huh?”
“Maybe.”
He smiled, helping her past the last stair. “Now. Close your eyes.”
“Really?” Kendra smiled, closing them.
Lance led her a few feet into the dining room. He wasn’t the most romantic guy. He knew that. His mind didn’t work like that, to come up with creative ways to romance a woman. He just wanted this to be special for her.
“Okay,” he said. “Open.”
Kendra’s hands went to her face. “Oh, Lance . . .”
He’d set the dining room table with two place settings. Cyd had helped him pick everything out—the place mats, chargers and matching plates, cloth napkins, even the floral centerpiece. But the rest was his doing. Around the room were select photos Kendra had taken over the past month, blown up to poster size. The images were stunning.
“I can’t believe you did this.” She moved from picture to picture. “Did I take these? I don’t remember them looking like this.”
“Yes. You captured these. You can really see the beauty when they’re cropped and blown up. I wanted to encourage you to keep going with it. You’re really talented.”
“It’s almost therapeutic.” Kendra stared at one she’d taken of a blue sky with swirling clouds and a bit of rainbow bursting through. “You see things—everyday things—you didn’t see before. You see life you didn’t see before, so much of God’s creation.” She turned to him. “I see why you said it’s a form of worship for you.”
“This is my favorite, Ken,” Lance said, “the close-up of this daisy.” He low-whistled. “Look at that. And this wasn’t me cropping it; this is how you shot it. Look at the droplets of rain on the petals.”
“That was right down the street,” Kendra said. “Before, I would’ve passed it like it was nothing.”
“We get to enjoy these beautiful images while we eat dinner,” Lance said, “so let me pull out your chair and seat you.”
She smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
“I’ll be back with the first course.”
Kendra called after him. “It’s not your famous green drink, is it?”
Lance chuckled, moving around the mess he’d made in the kitchen. He stirred the soup he’d left on a low simmer, then ladled it into bowls that matched the plates. He walked them piping hot to the dining room.
“Mmm . . . ,” Kendra said. “I love your soups.”
Lance loved that she loved them. It motivated him to try different recipes. But his main motivation was that they were easy for her to eat.
“What kind is it?” She watched as he set down the bowls.
“Cream of broccoli,” he said, smiling. “I know you’re not crazy about broccoli, but it’s good for you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I feel like a kid being forced to eat my veggies.” She leaned over the bowl. “Smells good though.”
Lance sat next to her and took her hand, and they bowed their heads together.
“Lord, we praise You because You are good. In the midst of sickness and disease and so much we can never understand, You are good, and we pray to keep our focus on You. Thank You for Your beauty in creation and for giving Kendra an eye to capture it and a spirit to enjoy it. And thank You for our time together this evening. I pray You bless it, and bless the food for the nourishment of our bodies—double nourishment for Kendra’s. In Jesus’s name.”
“Amen.” Kendra looked at him. “Where did you come from? You’re like, this amazing man who dropped into my life, and I’m still trying to figure out how it happened.”
“I’m not amazing, Ken.” He looked at her. “Don’t even think it, because I’ll disappoint you.”
She gave him a look as she lowered her head, tasting. “Can I say this soup is amazing?”
He smiled. “The soup can be amazing.”
“What’s in here?” she asked. “There’s a nice kick to it.”
He had a spoonful. “Can’t tell you my secrets.”
Kendra ate in silence a moment, then said, “So why do you always knock down compliments?”
He semi-frowned. “The ‘amazing man’ thing? That wasn’t a compliment; that was fantasy.”
“See what I mean.” Kendra ate more of her soup.
He rested his spoon. “Kendra, I really want you to have a clear view of me. I’m not trying to be extra humble when I say I’m nothing. I’m just a guy who has to stay desperate for God.” He lifted his spoon, but lowered it again. “And don’t forget, in society’s eyes, I’m a low-life ex-convict. Have you thought about that?”
“What do you mean, have I thought about that?”
“It’s so far from who you are and what you’ve known,” Lance said. “Never in a million years would you have seen yourself in a relationship—or whatever we’re calling this—with a former inmate.”
“And never would you have seen yourself with a terminally ill patient.”
“That’s different,” he said. “You can’t help that.” He paused. “I’m just saying, my past bothers me sometimes still, so it has to bother you on some level.”
“No, it doesn’t have to bother me on some level, because it doesn’t.” Kendra stared at him. “It’s not who you are.” She ate more soup. “But now I see why you’re not so amazing.”
He smirked at her. “Why is that?”
“Because you let the past plague you.”
“It doesn’t plague me.”
“It tells you that you’re not good enough, like you’re the same Lance Alexander who walked into Clayton and thought it was everything to live in Clayton. Or the Lance Alexander who made wrong choices and got locked up.” She cocked her head at him. “You need to put that guy to rest.”
Lance sat back in his chair, giving it thought. “I think, around you especially, it’s easy to lapse into the past and see myself as the high school boy who would’ve never been good enough for you.”
“As you say to me . . . stop. Whoever you thought I was, that was a fantasy too. I think you know by now that I’m—what in the world?”
The doorbell was ringing . . . and ringing and ringing.
“I don’t think Trey and Molly could be back from the movies yet,” Lance said. “And they have a key anyway.”
He got up and opened it.
A snaggletoothed little girl stood on the step, waving. “Hi,” she sang.
“Is that Brooklyn?” Kendra called.
Brooklyn darted inside, straight to Kendra’s voice.
“Brooklyn . . . ,” Lance said, following her.
She smiled sweetly. “Yes?”
“Did you walk down here by yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Does your mom know you’re here?”
“I . . . think so,” she said, sweetening her answer with a grin.
Kendra eyed her. “Brooklyn . . .”
“Okay, no. But she went to the store, and I got scared by myself.”
Lance and Kendra exchanged a glance. Brooklyn wasn’t scared. She just saw an opportunity to visit.
Lance looked at his watch. “It’s seven thirty and still light out, but I’m not comfortable with her walking back alone.”
“Me either,” Kendra said.
Brooklyn spread her hands and offered a solution. “I don’t have to go home. I can stay until my mom gets back from the store.” She spied the plates. “What’s for dinner?”