Page 37 of The Single Dads Club
Holy shit. Finally.
My heart jumps. “Andi? Where are you?”
“I am so sorry. Is Ella okay?” She sounds tired and scared. It rattles something inside me.
My gaze drifts to Ella, where she lays on the bed. “She’s fine. Where have you been?”
“I’ll explain everything in person. Are you home?”
Hot shame burns through me. She trusted me with her baby, and now here I am homeless. But I can’t tell her that. Not until I know what the hell is going on.
“No, actually. But I can meet you somewhere. The coffee shop on the corner near the apartment.”
“Sure,” she says.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
We end the call and I pack up Ella, buckling her into her carrier with a fuzzy blanket, and wonder if this is the last time I’ll do this. Trying to hold back tears as I look at her, tears for this little baby who’s been under my care for the past two weeks, so much so that I’m starting to get attached to her. But I can do this. So I grab her diaper bag filled with all her stuff, and then look down at her angelic face.
“Come on, sweetie, we’re going to see your mommy.”
I think about texting Alexei to let him know I’m going out, and then decide against it. He probably won’t see my text since he’s on the practice field, and if he does happen to see it, he’ll probably only worry. I want to see how all this will play out first, and then I’ll call him later.
We arrive at the coffee shop, and Andi is already there. When I spot her across the room, my knees buckle. She looks even frailer than she did two weeks ago, and her hair is completely gone, at least as far as I can tell with the silk scarf wrapped around her head. Her face is pale, but her eyes light up when she sees us. She rises on unsteady feet, placing both hands flat against the table to help with her balance.
“Oh my God,” Andi cries, reaching for Ella. “She looks so much bigger.”
Still in a state of shock, I unbuckle the straps and lift Ella out, then hand her to her mother.
Andi sits down with Ella in her arms, quietly stroking her smooth cheeks and downy hair while tears stream from her eyes.
I think I’m in a state of shock myself. Seeing her in this condition, I find all my unanswered questions start to come into focus. My heart breaks for Ella, for Andi, and for whatever this is that she’s going through. It’s such a tender moment that I don’t dare interrupt, despite all the questions buzzing through my brain.
After several minutes, Andi wipes her cheeks and straightens in her seat. She’s still holding Ella close to her chest, but her gaze is now fixed on mine. “Thank you so much for taking care of her while I was away. I’m sorry for just leaving, but I knew I could trust you to do the right thing.I couldn’t bear to leave her to the system.”
I nod, not quite knowing what to say. “Where were you? Is everything ... okay?”
Andi looks down at her daughter and smiles sadly.There’s a pause before she speaks.“I have cancer. Have had it off and on for about four years now.”
“What? Oh my God, I never knew.” I lean in closer, my eyes wide.
She nods. “I was in remission while we lived together. I hoped I would stay that way. But I have an aggressive form of brain cancer that’s returned. It’s called glioblastoma. The radiation I just had was sort of a last-ditch effort, but my body didn’t respond well to it, so ...”
She doesn’t say anything else, and I suddenly understand why she left Ella with me—to go and get treatment in the hospital.
“They say I have one to three months left. I’ve been in the hospital because my health is so compromised from the treatments they gave me, but I checked myself out this morning.”
I reach for her hand and she clasps mine tightly, weaving her fingers between mine.
“They want to move me to hospice right way. I told them I’d come back, but I had to get things in order with Ella first.”
I nod, feeling numb.
Andi reaches into her oversized purse and pulls out a stack of paperwork. A check made out in my name is paper-clipped to the pages. It’s for $2,406.12.
She hands me a pen and pushes the stack of papers toward me. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I know you’d take good care of her. I’ve seen how hard you work, the sacrifices you’ve made.”
“I don’t understand. What is all this?”
