Chapter 21
Kyle leaned back on his hands, smiling at where Bella sat beside him.
This Fourth of July celebration had proved to be one of Mom’s better ideas.
The community fun day and parade had seen Bella’s eyes widen with excitement, which made him suspect this was all new to her. “Are you having fun, Bella?”
The answer was obvious, even before she nodded, a trace of cotton candy smeared on her cheek. “This is great. Thanks, Dad.”
Dad.
His heart squeezed, and he took a moment to regain his breath.
Bella looked up at him worriedly. “It’s okay if I call you that, right?”
He nodded. “Sure is.” His heart felt fit to burst.
“Good. I asked Mom, and she said I should ask you first, but I forgot.”
“It’s all good, kiddo.” He ruffled her hair, drawing her laugh.
“Oh my heart,” Mom said, a smile on her face as she surveyed them.
Kyle grinned at her, then peered across to where Gen sat on the other side of Bella. Her gaze met his, and he mouthed a “thank you.”
She dipped her head, her expression soon resuming the tension she’d possessed since coming in from her shift at the hospital earlier.
Hmm. Maybe Gen releasing her daughter to own him as “Dad” hadn’t been the easy “yes” that Bella had implied.
He could imagine Gen might feel like it was giving up part of herself, considering she’d fulfilled the role of mom and dad these many years.
A title like that felt like it should be earned, not bestowed, and he hadn’t done enough yet to deserve that privilege.
Or maybe he was overthinking all this and Gen was stressed simply because something had happened at the hospital.
Gen’s shift at work had meant Minnie had been the one to bring Bella, and that had gone down about as well as a lead balloon with his parents.
Mom had sighed. “That woman always looks like she’s smelled something bad.”
“Now, now, Philippa,” Dad had cautioned. “Play nice.”
But as Kyle had gone to greet them, and worked hard to not let Minnie’s glare slash his own resolve to be pleasant, he wished things could be simpler. That Mom didn’t have to “play” at being nice, but simply was. But then easygoing kindness had never been her jam.
After the dinner out, his mom hadn’t held back. “I do not like that Minnie creature. So demanding, so controlling. So incredibly pushy and ambitious.”
How ironic that she couldn’t see how alike they were. Still, “Nobody can deny she’s worked incredibly hard to support Gen in reaching her potential.”
She’d sniffed. “I suppose.”
Exasperation flared; he fought to tamp it down. “Mom, would it really kill you to admit that Gen becoming a doctor after being raised by a single mom in a trailer park is an impressive feat? It’s actually really impressive. Both women are,” he now realized.
Because Minnie might not like him, but he could see things from her perspective.
He’d been the rich boy, the popular jock, and from the outside it must’ve looked shady the way he’d loved to hang out with Gen, something his later actions had only proved.
So the way she’d supported Gen when he hadn’t been there to do it, to keep believing in her daughter and helping out with Bella despite it all, made her willingness to tolerate him now all the more humbling.
No wonder Gen had gone on about her mom’s sacrifice so often.
Minnie was likely still working at least double the hours his mom ever had, but as a cleaner.
His heart panged anew with regret. He should make it up to them somehow. Or at least try to. Maybe offer to replace that bomb of a car with something brand-new.
Mom had sighed. “And I’ll admit, Gen might not be of the caliber of woman I wanted you to marry, but I suppose I can see the appeal. She’s certainly done well to manage raising the girl.”
“Bella is pretty special, isn’t she?”
“I like her,” his dad had said. “She reminds me of you at that age.”
“Oh David.” Mom had rolled her eyes.
Dad had shrugged. “She just seems like her head’s screwed on right, and I like that she’s so unaffected.”
Kyle had sensed a compliment in there, which he’d tucked away. He knew his dad loved him but Dad’s praise didn’t come so often that Kyle could afford to ignore it.
He glanced at Dad now, seated in a picnic chair with Mom in her own beside him, their glasses of wine perched precariously on the small fold-up table between them.
Kyle had brought an extra chair for Minnie but she’d refused. He got the impression she’d be happy to refuse anything Kyle offered, simply out of spite.
Gen, when she’d arrived, had also been happy to sit on the oversized picnic blanket with Bella and Kyle. Bella sat between them, with Minnie on Gen’s other side, as far away from Mom as possible.
“So, Bella, I was thinking that you might like to call me Nanna,” Mom said. “I don’t think that sounds as old as calling someone Granny or Grandma.”
His chest tensed at the cheap potshot, easing with relief when Minnie didn’t seem to hear. His mom’s statement was so ironic, when he knew for a fact that his mom was at least ten years older than Minnie.
“Okay, Mrs. Tinker.”
He bit back a smile. Looked like that day wasn’t today.
“I’m happy for you to call me whatever you like,” Dad said to Bella. “Just don’t call me late to dinner.” He winked.
Bella laughed, and began wondering aloud which of the names might work. “Granddad? No, that sounds old. Pop? I don’t know. That sounds like a drink.”
“Why not Grandpapa?” Kyle suggested.
“Oh Kyle,” Mom muttered, as Bella said “No! That sounds too much like someone from a fairy tale.”
But in some ways this felt like a fairy tale. He certainly hadn’t expected things to work out as quickly as they had. Maybe that was God’s hand in it all, or the prayers that kept surrounding him. Not that things were resolved just yet. But he’d continue to trust God for a happy ending.
“Anybody need more chips?” he asked, offering the bag around.
“I don’t know that ‘need’ is the word anybody should use,” Mom chided.
Minnie muttered something on the other side of Gen that Kyle didn’t catch, but which provoked him just the same. “What was that, Minnie? Did you want some?”
“No, thank you.” Her voice was stiff.
Ah, the good times they kept on rolling. “Gen?” He offered the bag to her.
She shook her head, even though in the dim light he could see her eyeing them, like maybe she was hungry.
“I’d like some more,” Bella said. “Please,” she added with a glance at Gen, as if she’d remembered her manners.
Gen nodded, and he gave Bella the bag, which she happily munched her way through as the blues band continued.
But while her daughter might be relaxed, he noticed new tension rippling through Gen. He reached behind Bella and tapped Gen’s hand, and murmured, “Are you okay?”
She pressed her lips together, which he was learning was the signal for no, but nodded anyway. Which meant he’d need to get her aside soon to find out what was wrong. Because he cared about her as the mother of his child, not because of anything else.
Even if the evening reminded him of other things.
So many things. Times growing up as teens when they’d spent Independence Days together, eating too many hot dogs and foods he’d learned to avoid after scouts had started turning up and he’d realized his NHL dreams might actually one day be possible.
They’d watched fireworks on the back of the pickup truck his parents had reluctantly bought him.
They’d done other things there too, he now recalled with a blush.
He snuck another look at her, wishing he knew how to get her to open up. They texted most nights, but she was never too open about what was happening at work. Which was probably only fair, due to privacy laws, but still. He wished he could help her.
Hey Lord, what can I do?
He didn’t sense an answer, except to be her friend.
Which he could do. Even if tapping out at friendship sometimes seemed a little hard to do.
He’d catch a smile or an expression, and his memories would flare, which sometimes ignited other senses and memories he really wished he could keep under control.
He wondered if Ryan or any of the other Northwest Ice dudes had tips on how to dampen down attraction.
Because he didn’t want to push this relationship into the physical.
He did want to rebuild their friendship so she’d learn to trust him with everything.
And he knew he’d have to keep fighting those moments of attraction, as God had made it clear that she wasn’t for him, not until Gen was following Jesus too.
Lord, touch her heart. Help her find You. Help me be patient. Help me model You.
And later, as the fireworks exploded, and he glanced at Gen again and saw the ribbons of color overhead reflected on her strained face, he realized that whatever she was facing was huge enough to eat away at these moments which were supposed to be about relaxation.
He wished she’d trust him.
Lord, help her trust me. More importantly, help her trust You.
Because the longer this went on, the more he was starting to feel something else for her.
Afraid.
* * *
“Okay, clamps.”
Gen supervised as Francis tied off the patient’s blood vessels, then completed the stitching. “Good job.”
“Thanks.”
She then checked on the new medical student who was supposed to be working with Dr. Visek, except Goran was a no-show today.
Apparently he hadn’t liked being made to wait to graduate from the program, which had seen the mother of all arguments last week, and Dr. Singh and the program director hauled upstairs to explain themselves.
This, with all of Gen’s own challenges with the admin, only layered new concerns on her heart.
But at least this was something she could do.
Lisa, the new intern, wore constant wide eyes and gave a tense vibe like she was drowning in responsibilities, something Gen knew only too well.
So she took a moment to show her some of the more efficient ways to streamline the paperwork that had a way of backing up, so she didn’t feel so overwhelmed.