Solace

That's exactly what we did. Brock, my father, owned a place just south of Columbus, New Mexico. It was several thousand acres, had a house and no one knew us there. We packed up our stuff in Lucas' truck and in two hours, we were on our way. We stopped in Deming and checked into a motel. We had a lot of work to do.

We got settled in, got food and we were on our computers. It took some digging but we found the place. A German doctor named Zerigski had been doing cancer research in Texas. He had isolated some compounds and done a lot of clinical trials. About two years into the trials, the FDA had shut him down. According to his data, he had been curing people, especially children, with brain tumors that the doctors had given up for dead.

I had a healthy skepticism about snake oil salesmen, but we had to try something. I wasn't about to let my child die without a fight. There were two more places that sounded promising. All three were in Mexico and I knew we needed to check them out.

Jonathon didn't seem to be any worse, so we drove down to the ranch the next day. Lucas called my father and he caught a plane to El Paso that night. I called Lilly and told her what was going on. She was nearly hysterical and she insisted on driving down to be with us.

In bed that night Lucas and I had a long talk. "Lucas, I'm so afraid," I told him. "Please, no matter what happens, don't stop loving me. I'll always love you. Help me fight for our baby."

"I'll love you until the day I die," he promised. "We're going to get through this, Sin. You just hang in there. We're in this together, and we'll make it through. Brock will be here tomorrow. So will Mom. We'll call the clinics and make appointments and get started beating this thing."

We made love and it was sweet and sad and life affirming. Holding my man and feeling his power and his love just drove me over the edge and I forgot about everything but the weight of his love, on me and in me. I came over and over until I heard him moan and felt him come, the hot cream soothing my pussy. We fell asleep, physically and emotionally exhausted.

We spent the next morning on the phone, arranging things, closing accounts, moving money and making appointments. We each received calls from Blanco's office and late in the afternoon, family services called. We didn't answer, but they said we should call them right away. We picked Dad up at the airport and by the time we got home, Lilly was there. I had always called her Mom, and that wasn't about to change now.

They fussed over Jonathon and walked in circles around each other like strange cats. They had never really gotten along. I never understood why. They were both amazing people. After a couple of hours of that, I had enough. "Mom, Dad, could I speak to you for a minute?" I asked them.

I took them into the kitchen and got us all coffee. We sat at the kitchen table and I read them the riot act. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you two," I said. "It's going to stop, now! There's a little boy in there that's going to die if the people that love him don't do something about it. Do you love your grandson or not? Do you love Lucas and me? If you're going to act like a couple of elementary school kids, it's going to break my heart. Settle this and let's get to work." I couldn't help it. I burst out in tears.

They were both horrified, and they jumped up and came around to comfort me. They couldn't stop apologizing to me and each other. They promised that they were going to be the absolute rocks that I could depend on and that they would do anything for us. They hugged each other and me and apologized again.

Over the next three days, they were perfect grandparents and parents. They worked as hard as Lucas and I to get things ready for a trip to Mexico.

Family services kept calling and we kept not answering. We were packed and ready to go by Saturday night. We planned to leave Sunday morning and arrive at Zerigski's clinic Monday morning. Saturday night the house phone rang and Dad answered it. He talked for a while and his face went white. After he hung up, he came and sat down.

"Lucas, that was the sheriff," he said. "They know you're here. He was just giving me a heads up. He said they tracked you through your cell phones and they're coming in the morning to take Jonathon. What are we going to do?"

"We're going to leave now," Lucas said. "How long do you think it will take to cross the border?"

"Two hours to Antelope Wells," Dad said. "That's where I'd send you if time wasn't a factor. You'd be in the US longer, though. That would give them more time to get the word out. The road is better, but I'm going to say Puerto Palomas. It's twenty minutes. The road is going to be hell until you get to Los Trios, but it gets you out of danger quicker. I think you should leave now. Get down a couple of miles from the border and wait until after daylight. You'd look suspicious trying to cross now."

"Aren't you coming," Lucas asked. "It sounds like you're not coming."

"I think I'll stay," Dad said. "I'll hole up, make them think we're all still here. You call me when you're across and I'll let them in. That way they won't be notifying the Border Patrol until you're safely across."

Lilly looked at Dad with tears in her eyes. "Brock, I've misjudged you," she said. "You're a hell of a man, a hell of a father and a hell of a grandfather. I'm staying with you."

We all did our best to talk her out of that, but she was adamant. She told us we were just wasting time and we should be getting on the road. I knew that once Lilly got going there was no changing her mind, so I just started packing. We were gone by 3AM, and we found a little dirt road a few miles north of the border, just out of sight of the crossing. We drove along it until we were out of sight from the highway and parked. Jonathon had never awakened, and Lucas and I tried to get some sleep. I know I dozed, off and on, and I hoped he had, too.

I had the alarm set on my cell phone and it went off at seven. We struggled to get alert. We got out of the car and stretched, walking a bit and I told Lucas I needed to pee. He did, too, and he stayed by the car while I went off the road a bit. I came back and he used the "facilities," as he called them. We got back in the car and headed south.

All our passports were in order and we crossed with only a cursory once-over from the guards. The guards on the Mexican side asked us a few questions, but they didn't hold us once we told them we were going to the clinic for cancer treatments. I spoke fluent Spanish, and Lucas could muddle along. I lied a bit and told them the treatments were for me, but they didn't question it.

When we got far enough south to hit highway 2, I got enough signal to send Lilly a text, telling her we were safe. She texted back and told us that they were surrounded by the sheriff's department and family services, but they were going to let them in. We didn't hear from them for two days. When we did, they said they had been arrested and questioned. They were charged with interfering with police officers, but Dad thought the charges were going to be dropped. As soon as they could get back to the ranch and get packed, they were going to join us. Their passports hadn't been taken, so they could travel.

We started Jonathon's treatments the second day after we arrived at the clinic. It was a beautiful desert scene, and I thought that if nothing else, the whole bucolic setting would be good for us all. It was tough on Jonathon. He couldn't understand why he was being stuck with needles. That was hard on Lucas and me, too.

If you have never been in the situation, it is nearly impossible to describe. There lay the dearest treasure of my heart, tiny in his hospital bed, surrounded by nurses, crying out his pain and there wasn't a single thing I could do about it.

"Mommy, they're hurting me! Make them stop!" That cry tore at my heart and left it bleeding and broken on that clinic floor. There was no respite, no relief, no lessening of anxiety in sight. I knelt at his bedside and the only thing that kept me from breaking down was that I had to be strong for my baby.

"I know, Jonathon," I tried to comfort him. "You're very sick and the doctors need to give you this medicine to make you better. I have to let them give you these shots so you can get better. It will all be over in a minute." The words tore at my throat and I felt as if I were about to collapse.

Four-year-old boys do not understand pain now, so that there will be life later. It is impossible to make them understand. All we could do was show our love and concern, consoling ourselves with thoughts of the alternative.

Lilly and Dad arrived the day after his treatments started, and they stayed the entire time. I don't think we could have gotten through the ordeal without their support. This may be difficult to imagine, but that first month did things to us, changed us in ways that were unimaginable to us, previously. It harmed my relationship with Lucas. Both of us became irritable and on edge. The slightest thing set us off and we were at each other's throats. Lilly and Dad played referee until they were disgusted with both of us. They read us the riot act several times.

"Both of you need to get your heads out of your asses and act like decent people," Lilly told us. "There's a little boy in there that needs his parents acting like humans instead of Doberman Pinschers."

We both promised to do better, apologized and it lasted about two day. I was constantly exhausted, and I'm sure Lucas felt the same way. It made us extremely irritable and we got on each other's nerves in ways that were hard to imagine. We walked around like stray dogs with their hair bristling.

We never made love. One of us was always too irritated with the other for intimacy, or we were exhausted and only wanted to sleep. After three months, we were hardly civil to each other. Jonathon's prognosis grew better by the day, and the prognosis for Lucas and me grew worse. I seriously believe that had it not been for Jonathon, one or the other of us would have left. I think, in some twisted way, each of us blamed the other for our predicament. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right, but we were hardly rational creatures.

I thought Lucas should spend more time with Jonathon. Lucas thought I should spend more time with him. It wasn't as if he was neglectful, but it seemed like every time there was a crisis, I was there, and he wasn't. As for spending more time with him, I was rapidly beginning to get angry at the sight of him. I came to the belief that illness or death had one of two effects. Either you pull together, stand together and come out on the other side, stronger than ever, or you crumble under the strain. I had never believed that we would be people who would crumble. I made efforts, believe me, I tried and I believe Lucas did, too. We would seem like we were working together well, and then one of us would do something that would set the other one off and we were at each other's throats again.

That's when Dr. Melissa Hardy entered the picture. She wasn't one of Jonathon's doctors, she specialized in breast cancer, but she often stopped by to see him. She was a very kind person and Jonathon loved her. I think it was partly because she never stuck him with needles, but from time to time, I would come back to his room to find her reading to him or putting together a puzzle or something. I have to admit that I grew very fond of her myself. I knew Lucas confided in her and they had become close, as well.

It was a shock to me when she showed up at the cottage on the grounds where we were living and exploded a bomb in my face. I had offered her a cup of coffee and we were sitting on the patio in the morning sun. I could tell she had something she wanted to talk to me about, but she was having trouble getting to it. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer.

"Melissa," I told her, "I know you have something you want to tell me. Why don't you just get it off your chest?"

She laughed. "I'm that obvious, huh?" She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear in what I had come to recognize as a nervous gesture.

"I've gotten to know you a little," I said.

"Okay, I'll just tell you," she said. "Sinclair, what are you planning to do about you and Lucas?"

"I guess I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

"Are you going to divorce him?" she asked.

That pissed me off. "My first inclination is to tell you that isn't any of your business," I said. "You're pushing your spoon in here where it isn't at all welcome. I'd ask you to leave and never speak to me about this again, but something tells me that this isn't idle curiosity, is it?"

"No, you're quite right," she said. "It isn't any of my business and I would never have asked you anything like this, but I feel like I need to ask. The reason is, I think I'm falling for your husband. God, I feel like such a miserable bitch. Here you are in all this pain and stress and I know it must be difficult for you beyond anything I can imagine. Let me explain. Will you do that for me, Sinclair?"

I wanted to scratch her eyes out, but I got a grip on my emotions. "I don't think I'm going to like this, but go ahead. I guess I need to hear it."

"Okay," she said. "I never intended for any of this to happen. You know I love your son. That's how it started. I would go in to see him and Lucas would be there alone while you were resting or eating or something. It was easy to see he was hurting. It's easy to see that you're hurting, too. At first, I just told him if he needed someone to talk to, I would be glad to listen. You know I made you that offer, too."

I nodded. She had told me, several times, that she would give me a shoulder to cry on. "Go on," I said.

"Well, you're stronger than Lucas," she said. "You never took me up on that offer. He did. At first it was all about Jonathon. He told me how worried he was, you both were. How you'd come to this place, how afraid he was. Then he began to open up about you. He told me about the strain this was putting on the two of you. He said you hardly speak and when you do it's usually to snap at one another. From that it progressed to him telling me intimate details. You don't need me to go into those. You know. One day we were in the chapel and he broke down. He was afraid he was losing you, that you didn't love him anymore. He was crying and I just thought I'd hug him and give him some comfort."

She took a deep breath and I could see that she was struggling for words. "So, you hugged him, and..."

"Well, it went beyond a hug," she said. "Before I realized what was happening, we were kissing. I was on fire and he had his hand in my blouse and I was tearing his shirt off."

It was difficult for me to contain my emotions. She was just as obviously having trouble with hers. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why are you telling me this?" I managed to get out.

"Because I have to," she said. There was a catch in her voice and I could tell she was torn up inside. "Sin, I can't tell you how much I despise myself right now," she sobbed. "I am everything I hate in other people. Here you are, fighting for the life of your son. You're in such pain and anguish of soul and I'm like a vulture, swooping in to feed off the carcass. You have to believe me. I never, ever, wanted any of this to happen. I didn't set out to seduce your husband. I never, in my wildest imagination, thought anything like this could happen. I've heard thousands of lectures about getting involved with patients and I thought I was fireproof. Well, guess what, I'm not. I have human emotions, too. I got involved and I'm so very, very sorry. Can you ever forgive me, Sinclair?"

I sat for a moment, lost in thought. "Do you love him?" I asked. "Does he love you?"

"I have no idea," she said. "I can't love him in this situation. It would be inhuman. I can't think of anything I could do that would be more cruel to the two, no, the three of you. I think in another life, or if you intend to divorce him, yes, I would be. That's why I asked you the question. That's why I came to you. I couldn't live with myself another moment if I didn't. What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea," I said. "Does Lucas know that you intended to talk to me?"

"No," she shook her head. "I didn't tell him. This is between you and me."

I nodded. "Well, I suppose the first thing I need to do is speak with Lucas," I told her. "After that, I'll let you know."

She nodded and stood up. I got up to walk her out and she stopped, looking back at me. Suddenly she broke. She made a low moan and began sobbing hysterically, wringing her hands as her misery and shame rolled over her beautiful features. "Sin," she sobbed. "I'm so, so, sorry. Please, I never... never... I'm such a miserable bitch... Please Sin."

My heart broke for her. I went to her and took her in my arms. "It's okay," I told her. "I believe you, Melissa. I believe you. It's going to be okay. I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen. I won't say I'm not pissed as hell at you. You should never have gotten close enough for this to happen, but it did. You came to me, and that means a lot. You're a good person who made a terrible mistake. I forgive you. It's going to be okay."

I held her and she sobbed into my breast for a long time. Gradually, she calmed and her sobbing quieted. She looked up at me, those beautiful brown eyes full of tears. "Thank you, Sin," she said. "You're a very impressive person. You have a bigger heart than I could ever have. I would have scratched your eyes out."

I laughed. "That's exactly what I was thinking of doing when you started this," I said. "Is it too late to do that now?"

She gave a watery chuckle. "I can always come back later," she said. "Thank you, Sinclair. I'm so sorry."

"I know." I squeezed her one more time and she tangled her left hand in my hair, pulling me down so that she could kiss my lips. It was a long kiss and I started becoming uncomfortable.

She pulled away and there was the twinkle in her eye that I had seen before all this started. It had been missing for a couple of weeks. "Just teasing you," she chuckled again. "Regardless of how this turns out, can we have lunch sometime?"

I smiled. "Maybe, I'll let you know."

After she left, I sat alone in a chair and sipped a cup of coffee. What was I going to do? I've always been good at self-evaluation. I know myself pretty well. Was I angry? Yes, as angry as I've ever been in my life. I realized that I bore some fault here. I had been a bit of an ice queen while we had been here. I knew that. I could rationalize that it was because of the stress I had been under, and Lucas had been no better than I had.

If the situation had been reversed, what would I have done? I asked myself that question. Would I have found myself in a too-intimate situation with a handsome doctor? I decided I would never know. It's impossible to tell unless you're actually in the situation, but I thought not. I'm not the kind of person that needs to confide in others. I had Mom and Dad if I needed a confidante. Lucas had that, too, and he showed weakness of character in choosing Melissa.

Was it forgivable? Perhaps, if he could explain it to my satisfaction and show me why it was an aberration and not something that would ever happen again. We were in a high stress situation, but that's where character carries you through. When you're alone, in your darkest hour, character is all you have to depend on. His had failed. We'd see where we went from here.

I went and got Dad. He sensed right away that something was wrong. "Has something happened with Jonathon?" he asked.

"No, he's doing well," I said. "This is about Lucas and me, Dad. I just need you or Lilly to stay with Jonathon for a few hours until Lucas and I can work this out. I'll tell you about it, but not until there is a resolution. Can you live with that?"