Sophie Pembroke – Marriage On The Cards: Marry Me, Mackenzie! / A Proposal Worth Millions / Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband? (страница 10)

“It’s what Hope wanted. When we were filling out her Make-A-Wish application, she wrote—I wish I could meet my dad.”

“Wait a minute...” What she had just said didn’t sink into his head right away. “Make-A-Wish? Isn’t that for sick kids?”

“Yes.” Mackenzie waited for Dylan to ask the next logical question.

“Are you trying to tell me that Hope is sick?”

“Hope has been battling leukemia for the last two years.” Mackenzie managed to say those words without tearing up.

As Dylan often did, he went silent. He stared at her for a long time with puzzled, narrowed eyes.

“Do you need a drink?” he finally asked. “I need a drink.”

Dylan stood up suddenly and walked toward the kitchen. He stopped when he realized that she was still sitting on the couch. “Are you coming?”

Wordlessly, Mackenzie stood up on shaky legs and followed Dylan into the kitchen.

“Can I interest you in a cold malt beverage?” Dylan pulled a bottle of beer from the side door.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Why not, indeed,” Dylan said cryptically as he popped the tops off the beers and handed her one. “We’re both consenting adults here.”

“Thank you,” Mackenzie said. She brought the bottle up to her mouth but Dylan stopped her.

“What should we toast to?” He held out his bottle to her.

“Anything you’d like,” Mackenzie said tiredly. She was exhausted. She was exhausted all the time, and had been for years. The stress of Hope’s illness and the stress of trying to run a business had been catching up with her for a long time. And now she had a sinking feeling that dealing with Dylan was only going to add to her exhaustion.

Dylan tapped her bottle with his. “To Hope.”

“To Hope,” Mackenzie seconded.

“Could you go for some fresh air?” Dylan asked.

Mackenzie nodded and Dylan opened the French door leading out to the deck. “After you.”

Mackenzie stepped onto the large deck and was immediately drawn to the edge of the railing that overlooked the beach. She stared at the sun setting over the small, rolling waves and tried to relax her shoulders. Dylan, who used to be so simple to read, wasn’t so easy for her to read tonight. She had no idea what type of emotional shift she might encounter. Next to her, but not too close, Dylan rested his forearms on the railing, bottle loosely held in one hand.

“So...” Dylan said in a calm, almost contemplative tone. “Hope has cancer.”

“Yes...” Mackenzie nodded. “She has acute lymphoblastic leukemia. ALL. She was diagnosed when she was eight.”

“Leukemia. What is that? Blood cancer?”

Mackenzie nodded. “At first I just thought that she was pushing herself too hard between school and the barn. She was tired all the time, losing weight. She just wasn’t herself. When she started to complain about an ache in her bones and a sore throat...” Mackenzie lifted one shoulder. “I thought she was coming down with the flu. I mean...who would immediately jump to cancer?”

Dylan sat down in one of the chairs encircling a fire pit. Mackenzie joined him.

“I remember being really stressed out that day...the day we found out. I had to rearrange my entire morning so I could get Hope to the doctor. Traffic was ridiculous, I was on the phone with the bakery...on the phone with clients...I remember thinking that it was the worst possible time for Hope to be catching something on top of everything else.” Mackenzie pushed strands of hair out of her face. “And all I could do was start adding things to do to my already gigantic to-do list—stop by the pharmacy, arrange for someone to stay with Hope...blah, blah, blah...”

Mackenzie stopped to take a swig from her beer. She shook her head as she swallowed the liquid down. “I had no idea how frivolous everything I’d just been obsessing over was about to become.”

Dylan listened intently, while Mackenzie talked. “The doctor sent us to the hospital, tests were run and she was diagnosed that day. And just like that...literally in what seemed like the blink of an eye...our world imploded. No parent is ever prepared to hear the words your child has cancer.” Mackenzie rubbed fresh tears out of her eyes. “But even more than that, I’ll never forget the look on Hope’s face when she asked me—ʽDid she just say that I have cancer?’ I’ve never been that scared in my life. Hope was admitted to the hospital, and ever since then, our lives just became this never-ending revolving door of chemo and steroids and tests and checkups and hospital stays...”

When Mackenzie realized that she was the only one talking and that she had said much more than she had ever intended, she stopped herself from blurting out more by taking a swig of her now-tepid beer. She picked at the label on the bottle, wishing that Dylan would do something other than sit in his designer lounge chair and stare at her.

“I don’t know why I just told you all of that,” Mackenzie said to fill the silence.

At first, Dylan really didn’t know what to say. He had been dragged from one emotional spectrum to the next in the span of an hour. At the beginning of their meeting, all he felt for Mackenzie was anger. But while Mackenzie was telling her story, and with the ocean wind blowing the wispy tendrils of her hair across her pretty face, she reminded him of the girl she had once been. The girl he remembered so vividly from his childhood—the chubby bookworm with thick glasses who used to read her books in the backseat of one of her father’s vintage cars. All the boys in the neighborhood ignored Jett’s sister, but he never did. Maybe it was because he liked how different she was than the rest of the girls. Or maybe it was because he had only seen her smile once after her mom died. He had never thought to analyze it. He had always just liked Mackenzie.

“Because we used to be friends,” Dylan said.

“Were we?” Mackenzie asked.

“I always thought so.” Dylan caught her gaze and held it. “And I tell you this, Mackenzie. If I had known that you were pregnant...if you had just trusted me enough to give me a chance, I never would’ve let you or Hope go through any of this stuff alone. I would have been there for you...both of you...every step of the way.”

Chapter Five

It took Dylan a couple of weeks to make a decision about Hope. He had gone about his daily life trying to focus on business. He hadn’t told anyone about Hope, not his girlfriend, his aunt or his best friend. He needed to get right with it in his own head before he could open up to other people. And after many distracted days and restless nights, he had an epiphany of sorts: Didn’t he have a moral obligation to Hope? Yes, the idea of becoming an “instant parent” terrified him. But if he was brutally honest with himself, the idea of repeating his father’s mistakes scared him even more. Once he came to a decision, he took the only next logical step: he called Mackenzie.

“Hello?” Mackenzie answered the phone.

“Hi, Mackenzie. It’s Dylan. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Busy. But fine,” Mackenzie said. “Hope’s doing really well. Her recent blood tests came back clear. She’s still in remission.”

“That’s good to hear.”

When he didn’t add anything more, Mackenzie asked, “How are you doing, Dylan?”

“I’m okay. Still sorting through this thing, I think.” Dylan rested his forehead in his hand. “Look, Mackenzie, I’ve been thinking a lot about Hope...are you sure that getting to know me is what your daughter wants?”

Mackenzie hated that she hesitated before she said, “I’m sure.”

“Then, let’s set it up.” Dylan stared out the window at the calm ocean in the distance. His tone was steady but his heart was pounding.

“Um...” Mackenzie rubbed her temples to prevent a migraine from flaring up. “I haven’t told Hope that I found you yet. I was waiting to hear from you. I didn’t want to get her excited and then...well, you know...”

“Understood.” Dylan sounded as if he was arranging a business meeting rather than a meeting with his newly discovered daughter. It was his comfort zone and it helped him stay sane. “When can you get that done?”

“Not tonight,” Mackenzie said distractedly. “She has chemo tomorrow and she’ll be sick all weekend...but maybe next week sometime when she’s feeling better...”

“That’s fine.” Dylan nodded his head. “Once that’s done, give me a call and we’ll figure out the next step. Does that work for you?”

“Yes,” Mackenzie said after she cleared her throat. “I’ll call you once I’ve spoken with my daughter.”

After they ended the call, Mackenzie stared at the phone for several seconds.

“Well?” Rayna was staring at her like a cat gearing up to pounce on a catnip toy. “That had to be Dylan, right? What did he say?”

“He wants to meet Hope.”

Rayna turned the burner on the stove down. “See? Look at that! Prayers in action! This is great news!”

“What’s great news?” Charlie walked through the front door wearing mint-green scrubs. She hung her keys on the hook just inside the door.

“Hi, honey.” Rayna smiled at her wife, Charlotte. “Dylan finally came to his senses and called. He’s agreed to meet Hope!”

Rayna was the yin to Charlotte’s yang. Rayna had shoulder-length wispy blond hair, pretty, Slavic features and alabaster skin. Charlotte, who preferred to be called Charlie, was an attractive mix of Irish and Mexican heritage with light brown eyes, golden-chestnut skin and thick black wavy hair worn loose and long. At first, Rayna and Charlie were just her landlords, but they had become family after Hope was diagnosed. Rayna and Charlie had been in the trenches with them right from the start—cooking meals, running errands and pulling all-nighters watching Hope while Mackenzie caught a few hours of sleep. And Rayna’s church had held fundraisers to help raise money to help pay for Hope’s burgeoning medical bills. It was hard to imagine how she would have gotten through the first year of Hope’s treatment without them.