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It didn’t make sense, because Gavin was a good guy, but she simply leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Thank you. You’ve been so good to me. To all of us.”

He sighed and settled in, an arm around her shoulders. “Like I said, you’re my family. I would do pretty much anything for you. Take some time before you sign that contract. Think about what you want.”

She wanted Major to be okay. She wanted these choices to be easy.

The ice cream truck pulled into a spot across the park.

One choice was easy. “How about a raspberry Popsicle?”

He chuckled and stood. “Now, that I can do. Come on. Everything is going to be all right.”

“Until I tell my mother I’m quitting acting and running off to France to study art,” she pointed out.

Gavin paled. “Yes, I think that might cause her concern. Maybe we don’t mention it until you’re actually in France. And maybe we don’t mention my part in it.”

“Scaredy cat.” Though he was probably right.

She thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Something moving in the trees to her left. When she turned there was nothing there. It had probably been the wind. Or kids swarming the ice cream truck.

She shook her head and started across the park.

Maybe she would get an ice cream sandwich instead.

It was nice to have choices.

* * *

* * *

Major breathed deep for the first time since Lila had called and told him they needed to meet. He had to admit that he’d thought the worst when she’d told him she wouldn’t talk to him over the phone, that this meeting had to be in person.

“I have cancer?” His father was beside him. He’d been fairly lucid up until this point, though he’d spent most of his time reading a book. They were in his father’s apartment, sitting in the living room, and his dad had ignored Lila LaVigne and Juan for the most part. He’d been far more interested in telling Major about the book on World War II battles he was reading than anything else.

But Lila’s latest pronouncement seemed to have gotten his attention.

Lila sat on the couch next to Juan, a folder on her lap. “No, Mr. Blanchard. The tumor on your kidney was benign. That’s the good news.”

Major felt every muscle in his body go tight. Something about the way she’d said the words made him think there was another shoe waiting to drop. “Is there bad news?”

His father set down his book and leaned forward. He put a hand to his head. “Where is Doc Hamet? Shouldn’t he be here? Or Dr. Cline? She’s my oncologist. I’m afraid I don’t remember who you are. You look familiar. I’m sorry. I know I should know you and I know Doc hasn’t been around for a while. I need my memory jogged.”

Juan glanced down at his watch. “This is usually the time his brain is the least foggy.”

If Lila was offended, she didn’t show it at all. She simply gave his dad a sympathetic look. “It’s all right, Mr. Blanchard. I’m Lila LaVigne. I took over for Doc Hamet when he retired a few years ago. Dr. Cline is in New Orleans. She’s who I’ve been consulting with so she’s up to date on all the tests. If you would feel more comfortable talking to Dr. Hamet, I can arrange for him to speak with you.”

“I thought he spent all his time fishing,” Juan interjected.

“He’ll come out for an old friend,” Lila replied. “He can explain the test results if you like.”

Major didn’t want to wait. “Dad, she’s good. We should listen to her.”

“Well, I’m certainly happy to find out I don’t have cancer.” He frowned and looked Major’s way. “Did we think I did?”

“We were worried about it,” Major admitted. He’d spent a lot of time with his father in the last week, and Juan was right. He was usually at his best around this time of day.

“Your test results from a few weeks ago made me take a closer look, but I’m happy to say you’re still in remission,” Lila explained.

“Remission.” His father seemed to ponder the idea. “I seem to remember something about cancer. Did I have it before?”

“Yes, Dad.” He almost wished they had done this in Lila’s office without his father present. It was hard enough to deal with these conversations without having to explain it to his dad.

He hated that he thought those things, hated that it crept into his mind that his father was a burden. Over the course of the last week, he’d seemed to be getting better. He’d been placed on some new drugs, and Major had hope for the first time in forever. He loved the man. He couldn’t stand the thought that he might be gone one day.

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