Lorna Michaels - A Candle For Nick

She and Nick had settled into their two-bedroom apartment, and Nick had immediately made friends with Jeremy Spellman, another ten-year-old, who had been in treatment only two weeks longer than he. Mallory and Jeremy’s mother Tamara and several other moms had bonded, too. No one could better understand what they were going through than other parents experiencing the same fears and hopes.

Nick had told her that he and Jeremy were designing a video game. Now they were seated, heads together, giggling as they drew on a piece of typing paper. Mallory listened.

“…and the monster Leukemator is waiting at the end of the tunnel,” Jeremy said.

“Yeah, and he sends his blasts out to destroy Battleforce Bazooka.”

“But Doctor Bergermaster has a secret weapon. It’s…um, let’s see, it’s…Cheem.”

“Cheem, the Extreme,” Nick said. “Hey, Jer, this is really good. We should show it to Dr. Berger. Maybe he’ll have some ideas to improve it.”

“Maybe he could test it out on his own kids,” Jeremy suggested.

“Nope, he doesn’t have any kids.”

Mallory frowned. How did Nick know that?

An hour later, as they left the clinic and headed for the exit, she asked him.

“Oh, we talk when he’s checking me over. I asked him.”

“Why?”

Her voice came out sharper than she intended and Nick said, “I just wondered, that’s all. You’re sure cranky today.”

“Sorry. How about I make it up to you?” she offered. “Since you’re feeling better and your blood counts are up, we could go out to dinner. I’ll treat you to McDonald’s.”

“Cool.”

“Let’s do it, then.” She’d have to be careful not to let her emotional reactions to Kent affect the way she behaved with Nick.

They left the building and were heading across the parking lot just as Kent emerged from another door. Mallory grimaced. Think of the devil, and he appears. And her heart leaped at the sight of him, just as it had years ago. She kept her eyes straight ahead.

Her son, bless his heart, didn’t. “Hey, Dr. Berger,” he called and stopped. When Kent came alongside them, Nick said, “Guess what. We’re going out to dinner, to McDonald’s. Wanna come?”

Mallory jumped in quickly. “Nick, I’m sure Dr. Berger has things to do—”

“Nothing on the calendar for tonight,” Kent said. “I’d love to join you.” He flashed his killer smile, the rat. “My car’s right over there. I’ll follow you home and we can go together.”

“Oh, that’s not nec—”

“Wow! You have a Jaguar. Mom, is that awesome or what?”

“Awesome,” Mallory muttered. If anything, the car vaulted Kent even higher in Nick’s pantheon of heroes…that is, if a higher position were available. Dr. Bergermaster was, after all, already the leader of Battleforce Bazooka.

Saying nothing, she steered Nick to their own car, not at all surprised when her son groused, “Our car is so nothin’. We should get something classier.”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll put us on the list for a Ferrari as soon as we’re back in Valerosa.”

As she drove the few blocks to the apartment, Mallory pondered Kent’s acceptance of Nick’s invitation. Surely this wasn’t standard procedure for a busy doctor to go out for fast food with one of his patients. She chewed on her bottom lip as she glanced in the rearview mirror at the sleek black Jaguar behind them. Did he have some inkling that Nick was more than just a patient?

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. For the thousandth time, she asked herself why she’d come to Houston. Didn’t she have enough to worry about without this fear lurking in the back of her mind? And for the thousandth time the same answer came. She wanted the best for Nick, and Kent was the best.

She’d just be cautious around him.

She pulled into her parking space and shook her head in disbelief as Nick fairly leaped out of their car and trotted over to Kent’s. Nick hadn’t had this much energy since he’d gotten sick. She followed slowly, hoping Nick would get into the front seat of the Jaguar beside Kent. Instead he hopped into the back and left the passenger seat for her.

Resigned, she got in. As she fastened her seat belt, she caught a whiff of Kent’s cologne. Sandalwood. Masculine, sexy—oh, dear.

She let Nick do most of the talking as they drove to the nearest McDonald’s. He had plenty to say, of course, chattering excitedly about the “awesome” car, his collection of model cars and the video game he and Jeremy were designing.

They slid to a stop in front of McDonald’s and Kent got out of the car. By the time Mallory had unfastened her seat belt and picked up her purse, he’d come around to her side and opened the door for her. Always the gentleman, he extended his hand to help her out. She remembered how impressed she’d been with his manners the summer they’d been together. Today she ignored his hand. Manners were all surface, she told herself. What was important was inside. And Kent had let her down when it really mattered. She would keep that in mind and not allow his sexy cologne and beguiling smile to sweep her off her feet again. She was older and wiser than she’d been eleven years ago.

Nick scrambled out and glanced around the parking lot. “We’ve got the best car here,” he announced.

Of course, Mallory thought. How many prominent physicians patronized fast-food restaurants?

Inside, they gave their orders, and Kent reached in his pocket. “I’ll get it,” he said.

“No, thank you.”

Kent shrugged, and she thought she saw a hint of amusement in his eyes. Let him laugh. She would not allow this to become a…she wasn’t sure what, but letting him pay for their meal seemed a step toward a more personal relationship. A complication she couldn’t dare to encourage.

They carried their trays to a booth and sat down. She continued to let Nick carry the conversation, relieved at first and then concerned that he and Kent had so much to talk about.

Nick ate half his burger, then pushed it away. His appetite was still poor. Tonight hers wasn’t much better. She nibbled at her food, wishing the meal over so they could leave.

But Nick was eyeing the outside playground. “Can I go out, Mom?” he asked.

Mallory hesitated, worried that he might overextend himself. And she didn’t want to be alone with Kent. “I don’t think—”

Sensing defeat, Nick said, “Let’s ask Dr. Berger.” He turned to Kent.

“Ten minutes,” Kent said. “If you get tired sooner, come back. Your body will tell you when it’s had enough.”

“Thanks.” Flashing a triumphant grin, he left them.

Alone.

Mallory began gathering up their leftovers. If she walked to the trash can really slowly, she could use up maybe two minutes. Coward. But she had reason to be afraid.

“I’ll get us some coffee,” Kent said.

“Thank you.”

“Still take yours with two sugars?”

She nodded, surprised he remembered. With another man, she’d be flattered. With Kent—

She deposited their trash in the container and returned to the booth. Kent set the cups on the table and slid in across from her. Her hand closed around the coffee cup. His was inches away, close enough to reach for, to touch. She remembered the feel of his fingers clasping hers, the warmth of his palm…

“The first time we went out, I took you to the Burger Bar,” he said softly.

She remembered, of course. Everything about that first afternoon was as vivid in her mind as events of the past week—the smell of broiling meat, the jukebox playing Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You,” the heady excitement that Kent had noticed her and actually asked her out.

“Is the Burger Bar still there?” he asked.