LANCE HAD SET A TABLE FOR FOUR IN THE DINING ROOM AND prepared a special meal. After the heavy conversation earlier, which Kendra had told him about, dinner talk seemed purposefully light, mostly about Marlon’s time at the University of Ghana and venturing around the country itself. But even those stories carried the undertone that he’d gone to escape the heartache and the scandal.
Marlon was eyeing his daughter. “Ken, I have to tell you: it’s a blessing to see you in such good spirits. I didn’t expect that.”
“Oh, I’ve been a yo-yo, trust me.” Kendra ate lemon sherbet while the others had chocolate cake. “You should’ve been here two weeks ago.”
“She’s not lying either,” Trey said.
Kendra made a face at him, then touched Lance’s shoulder. “The blessing has been this man’s effect on my life.”
Marlon held them both in his gaze. “As a father, it pains me beyond belief to see my daughter suffering this way, and yet my heart soars knowing she has you, Lance.” He drank his ice water. “That was one of the sweetest surprises ever.”
Kendra’s brown eyes narrowed a little at Lance. “I still can’t believe my dad knew you were proposing before I did.”
“That’s kind of how it’s supposed to work,” Lance said.
“But he was all the way in Africa, and let’s be real . . . Dad and I weren’t exactly speaking.”
“That had nothing to do with me,” Lance said. “Mr. Woods has been nothing but kind to me, and out of sheer respect, I wouldn’t ask to marry you apart from his blessing.”
“And it took all of two seconds to think about it. And please, call me Marlon.”
Lance smiled. “I appreciate that.”
“So, Dad, are you here for good, or are you going back to Ghana?” Trey asked. “I thought your sabbatical was until the end of this semester.”
“It is, officially,” Marlon said, “but there was no way I could stay overseas once I got the news about Kendra. I’m here for good, but still praying about what I’ll do.”
“You’re still on the faculty at Wash U, aren’t you, Daddy?” Kendra said.
“Yes, but I’m not sure if I’ll return to campus this semester, do research at home, or what.”
“Mr. Woods . . .” Lance paused. “It’ll take me awhile to get used to not calling you that . . . Now that you’re back, I don’t want to assume that I can continue to stay—”
Marlon held up a hand, shaking his head. “Nonsense, young man. You’re about to be family, which is all the more reason to stay . . . unless you and Kendra want to move out and give your money away to a landlord.”
“I’m thankful,” Lance said. “It’ll be easier on Kendra if she doesn’t have to uproot and move somewhere else.”
“Hmm,” Kendra said, “then I guess the only question is whether I’m moving to the lower level or Lance is moving upstairs with me.” She leaned over and winced. “At the moment though, I think I do need to uproot and move somewhere else to lie down.”
Trey stood with his cake. “Let’s all move to the living room.”
When they’d settled there, Marlon looked long at his daughter. “Ken, you said you have one more chemo session. What happens after that?”
“Testing,” Kendra said. “MRIs, cat scans . . . They have to see how effective the chemo has been and whether I can be cleared for surgery.”
“This is surgery for a mastectomy?”
“Right. And even though cancer was found in one breast, I’m having a double mastectomy, just in case.”
“Okay, so you recover from the surgery . . . Then what?”
“Then I start radiation,” Kendra said, “then more chemo.”
“And . . . because it’s already spread . . .” Marlon couldn’t finish his thought.
Kendra nodded. “You already know from walking this out with Mom. Even with all of that, they’re not trying to cure me. They don’t have a cure. That would take a miracle. They’re just trying to prolong my life.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Marlon said. “How long . . . Is there a time frame . . .”
“What’s the life expectancy?” Kendra asked.
“Yes, that’s what I’m wondering,” Marlon said, “taken totally with a grain of salt. I know God is ultimately in control.”
“Amen,” Lance said.
“The thing about inflammatory breast cancer,” Kendra began, “is that it’s aggressive. It grows quickly, and it’s likely to come back after treatment.”
Lance found it interesting how Kendra could spew the facts from her head with ease at times, but it could turn on a dime.
“The official stats say that 60 to 70 percent of women with the disease don’t live five years beyond the diagnosis.” Kendra stared away for a moment. “But I’ve been following this one particular blog, and the woman died this week after . . . after being diagnosed just last year.”
“Each case is different,” Marlon said.
“I know, but . . .” Kendra took a moment. “She was Stage IV like me, and it was in her neck at diagnosis, like mine.”
Lance felt the tears just beneath the surface. He did whenever he thought of losing Kendra, but that it could be as soon as next year was almost unbearable. He had to stay strong for her, had to inject optimism and hope—and it was real. He was hopeful. How could they not have hope in Christ? But he loved this woman with every fiber of his being.
Lord, I pray You give Kendra long life, that You would give the two of us long life together on this earth. I’m praying for the miracle.