utter dread swept over him.
“C’ mon, c’mon,” he muttered impatiently, watching the digital readout above the elevator with a sense of helplessness.
“But, Mom, don’t you know who he is?”
“Matty, I don’t think—”
“C’ mon, Mom!”
Nathan smiled to himself at the whine in the boy’s voice as it got closer still. No matter what else may be wrong with him, he had the normal impatience of all kids his age.
“Hey, Mr. Conners! Mr. Conners! Can I have your autograph?” Nathan heard the excitement in his voice, knew that the boy in the wheelchair had nearly reached him. He took a deep breath, turned around and forced himself to look only at the boy.
“Sure, no problem, kid.” Nathan automatically kneeled and winced as a sharp pain shot through his knee before he repositioned himself. He sensed the doctor’s sudden reaching and waved her away before taking the paper and pen the young boy offered. He looked into the kid’s brown eyes and felt a smile spread across his own face at the hero worship he saw in their depths. “So are you a big fan, Matthew?”
“Wow!” The kid reached up and tugged on Catherine’s arm. “Hey, Mom, he knew my name! Wait till I tell everyone at school! I love hockey, Mr. Conners.”
“Matty, that’s enough.”
Nathan winced at the ice in her voice but still refused to look at her. He scrawled a brief greeting on the paper, followed by his name, and handed it back to the boy.
“You can call me Nathan. So, how many hockey games have you been to, Matthew?”
The young boy shrugged. “Not a whole bunch. Mom says she doesn’t like it. But I watch on TV. When it’s not real late, I mean. Hey, Nathan, when are you going to start playing again?”
“I guess that’ll be up to the doctors. So…I bet your dad’s a fan, too, huh? How’d you like to go see a game? I could get tickets for you and your dad. Your mom, too, if you’d like.”
“I don’t have a dad.”
“Oh.” Nathan swallowed around the foot in his mouth as Catherine’s icy glare drove deeper into him. “Um, well, how about just tickets for you and your mom then?”
“Wow! Could you? That would be neat!”
Nathan felt the urge to laugh at the boy’s excitement and tried to recall the last time he had felt like that. The joy was short-lived, though, dampened by Dr. Wilson’s quiet voice. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Matty.”
“Mom—”
“Matty, we shouldn’t put Mr. Conners to that kind of trouble.”
Nathan stood up, trying not to flinch against the pain in his knee. He turned and finally faced Dr. Wilson, meeting her cold brown eyes with his own steady gaze in silent challenge. “Really, it’s no problem. I’ll send the tickets over by the end of the week. Will two be enough?”
Her lips pursed into a tight line as she met his stare and Nathan knew she wouldn’t be able to say no. It would kill her, he was sure, but she wouldn’t say no to her son. A bell dinged behind him, followed by the hiss of the elevator door opening. He took a step backward and placed his hand on the frame of the elevator to prevent it from closing as he waited for her answer, surprised he was anxious to hear it. There may have been no dad, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone else.
“Two. It’s just me and Mom.”
“Matty!” She pointed a look of openmouthed surprise at her son then turned back to face him, a tinge of red scattered across her cheeks. Nathan offered her a slow smile and an even slower wink as he released his hold on the elevator door.
“Two it is.”
He was glad no one else was in the elevator to witness the cold look she gave him.
Chapter Two
“I realize that, yes.” Catherine looked up at the knock on her door and waved Brian inside when he poked his sandy-haired head through the opening. “Yes, Mrs. Johnson, I’m aware of that. I really do need to go now. I’ll call you later this week.”
She placed the phone back in its cradle with a sigh, then offered Brian a half smile. “That woman is going to send me to an early grave.”
“Was that Matty’s principal?”
“The one and only.” She motioned for Brian to sit. “She seems to think that Matty should at least attend gym class. I keep telling her that I don’t think he’s ready.”
“Catherine, it’s been ten months since his amputation. The cancer is gone. He should have started with his prosthesis months ago. I have to side with Mrs. Johnson this time.”
Catherine met her partner’s serious blue gaze and let out a weary sigh. She pushed a strand of hair back over her ear and began straightening the papers scattered on her desk.
“I think I know what’s best for Matty. I don’t need you ganging up on me, too. Not now.”
“You’re going to have to give him some freedom sooner or later. He’s young and active. And healthy. Give him the chance to enjoy what he’s been missing.”
She slammed her hand on her desk. “Not now. Not yet—he’s not ready.”
“Are you sure he’s the one who’s not ready?”
The words hung in the air between them, suspended in the sudden tension that threatened to overwhelm Catherine. Slowly, she released her pent-up breath and focused on the papers in front of her. Brian was right!
If she was completely honest with herself, she’d admit that a large part of the problem with Matty was that she wasn’t ready. His health problems and the resulting amputation had happened too recently. The pain of seeing him suffer was still a raw wound, one she had no intention of reopening. She swallowed around the thickness in her throat.
“His doctor suggested not letting him use the prosthesis now would cause more harm later.” Her words came out as a whisper, not quite hiding the pain and anxiety that was a part of her everyday life. She felt Brian’s gaze on her and reluctantly looked up, putting on her brave face. One glance at his sympathetic expression told her she had failed miserably. She blinked her eyes against the tears that threatened.
“And?”
Catherine took another deep breath and shrugged. “As a doctor, I know he’s right. But as Matty’s mom…I’m afraid he’s not ready yet. I’m afraid he’ll hurt himself. I’m afraid of a million other things I have no control over. I can’t go through that again.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, willing the memories to disappear with the pain. All those months of uncertainty, of anguish. And fear. Her whole life had changed with Matty’s diagnosis, and while he seemed to have made a full recovery, Catherine was still terrified, still not ready to reenter life.
“What does Matty want?”
