Second Chance Cafe (10 page)

Isa stared down at the teeny baby. She seemed so small compared to Leo’s strong eight-pound-thirteen-ounce baby Tony. Bianca felt delicate and breakable. Isa breathed in the smell of her, dreaming of what it might be like to hold her own baby one day.

Small or large, healthy or frail, girl or boy—it must be the most marvelous feeling in the world to hold your own little one in your arms. To know he or she belongs to you. To know that you’re his or her mother, to feel that intense love engulf you.

Isa didn’t want to pray, but she couldn’t seem to avoid it. The words just drifted from her heart.

God, you know my heart’s desire for a family. You know how much I’d love to have a baby of my own and a husband of my own. Please…

But as she walked back down to the E.R. in the stillness of the night, her hands stuck in her pockets, Isa thought of her ever-growing list of obligations and responsibilities.

I can barely hold my head above water now—how could I add mother and wife to that list?

How could I not if I finally met the right guy? Those things have been wishes in my heart for so long. Now here comes Ethan, saying all the right things, doing all the right things—but how do I know? And why does this great guy finally show up right in the middle of all my disarray? I’m so unsure of everything. I’m so unsure of me. I’m so unsure of You.

She shook back her hair, feeling quiet and lonely and drained. She wanted to go home and crawl into bed and actually wake up feeling rested. She wanted to lie down and have her mind stop sprinting. Alone in the elevator, waiting to reach the E.R., a verse inundated her thoughts.

I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.

The words sounded like a whispered promise. But promises eluded Isa. To her, life felt like an overly crowded schedule—too full, too much. Peace and relief seemed just a little out of reach. And an abundant life? At this point, Isa couldn’t even picture it.

Chapter 12

T
he following Thursday morning, Ethan walked down the corridor of the South Denver Neurology Center in search of the waiting room. Isa sat up straight when she saw him enter the room and a look of relief covered her face. Ethan couldn’t help wondering when she’d realize that she could count on him. He wanted her to expect him to show up for her. She always seemed so surprised by his presence, by his pursuit of her. She jumped up and took the eco-friendly bag from his hands.

“Tell me you brought me chocolate,” she said, looking through the bag. He grinned.

“Hello to you, too. And you know I brought you chocolate. The stuffed croissants are somewhere in the bottom. There are some bagels and cheese Danishes, as well. How’s your dad?”

“In surgery. No word yet. What are you even doing here? You have to be at the café!” Isa said, handing the bag to her mother, who joined them and gave Ethan a hug.

“I know. I need to get back. But I wanted you to know that I’m here, and that I’m praying for you.”

Isa curled into him. She felt small and fragile in his arms, though he knew her to be one of the toughest women he’d ever met. He liked the combination. Their last conversation had perturbed him. Isa never seemed to have the confidence that he was available to her.

Is she available to you yet?
He mulled the thought as Isa rested her head on his chest.
Sometimes.

She’s right.
Ethan felt discouraged.
Neither of us is that available.

Over the top of Isa’s head, he saw her mother watching them, a surprised smile on her face.

He left the hospital, with Isa assuring him she’d keep him posted on her dad’s progress. He rushed back to the café and took over in the kitchen, both slightly overwhelmed and thrilled to see the kitchen humming and orders coming through. The café was holding its own. The public’s curiosity might have waned a bit since the grand opening, but he’d maintained a steady stream of customers. He’d been right in his assumption that the location was ideal and the café just needed some tender loving care.

He slid into his role as chef, savoring the experience of cooking for his own restaurant. It still shocked him how much he enjoyed owning a café. If it weren’t for the nearly constant ache in his back, Ethan would have wondered if cooking was his second calling. As much as he loved fighting fires, the pleasure of running his own kitchen was a close rival.

As Ethan grilled cheeseburgers and plated sandwiches, he thought of how easily he’d adapted to life as a firefighter. The heavy gear, the substantial weight of responsibility that had come with the job—all of it had suited him like a favorite jacket. It had just fit, as though he’d been meant to be a firefighter all along. And yet running his kitchen felt just as natural, just as thrilling and just as satisfying.

Could he really do both? The twinge in his back as he stirred a huge pot of broccoli cheese soup made him doubt whether he could do either very well. By midafternoon Ethan let his assistant cook take over and he sat down in his office for a break. A short text from Isa had reassured him that her father had come through the surgery, and so far things looked positive. He held on to that good news as he made his way to Incline Physical Therapy and Wellness Center at five that evening.

“Keira,” he said once they’d worked through a number of exercises, “I don’t think I’ve improved very much over the last couple of weeks.”

“I know it’s slowgoing, and really, after nearly six weeks of therapy, you should be farther along. Isaac spoke with your doctor and we’re recommending an MRI. At this point, we need to see if anything was overlooked in the X-ray. Your pain level is a definite concern. The meds won’t maintain the same level of effectiveness as your body adapts to them. But don’t forget that you’ve just taken on a whole new level of stress, Ethan. Right at the time when you should be healing and taking it easy, you’ve decided to become a business owner.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But I’m trying not to take on more than I have to. I’m not doing all the cooking. I’m not lifting. I’m trying to get the rest I need.”

Keira put a pillow under his knees as he began his heat and stem therapy. “The MRI is necessary. And it should be done right away. Someone will be contacting you soon to set that up. After the MRI, we’ll know where we are with therapy and what you need to move forward.”

He nodded absentmindedly, his thoughts now on the restaurant, the money he’d invested into this new venture, the fact that it would probably take months before he saw a profit, if then. The stress started to inch its way all through him.

God, I hope I’ve done the right thing. What if things never go back to the way they were before the accident? What if I’m always hurting? What if my life is permanently limited by this?

This time, Ethan couldn’t talk himself out of feeling overcome by his situation.

* * *

Isa flipped through the channels, even though the TV was muted, in her dad’s recovery room. Leo had just left to drive their mother home. They had decided that Isa would stay overnight. She knew Leo needed to go home to Mandy and Tony. And she didn’t mind. It was her night off anyway, and she would rather be on a cot in her father’s hospital room than anywhere else. She wanted to be there if he woke up and needed anything.

Dr. Rosas had smiled as she told them that Gabriel Romano had come through the first half of the surgery fine. All looked well. He’d go home the next day and come back a week later for part two of the deep brain stimulation. Even Isa’s uncle, her father’s brother, and aunt had flown in from Los Angeles to be with the family during the surgery. So Isa’s mother had a houseful of guests. Isa slept intermittently, waking when nurses came in to check her dad. By morning she was relieved to see her dad responding so well. She knew they’d have to wait to see the results of the second half of the surgery, but so far she was encouraged. She sat with him while they waited for Leo and her mother to finish paperwork.

“How do you feel, Dad?” Isa asked, taking his hand in hers.

“I’m not sure really, Isa. All right, I guess. I’m afraid to think I feel better.”

She noticed that he wasn’t shaking quite as much and his words seemed to come just a little easier.

“I understand feeling that way. It can be scary to hope sometimes.”

He looked at her and she felt as though her father could see all the way into her heart.

“I’m hoping for you, Isabella.”

The immediate catch in her throat was followed by unstoppable tears rushing to her eyes. “For me? I’m talking about you, Dad.”

He nodded, with still a small tremor. “I know you are, daughter. And you’re very right—it can be a fearful thing to keep hoping. But sometimes, when you’re afraid to even hope for good things, you just might need your father to hope for you. And I will never stop hoping for good things for my Isabella.”

The words he spoke were clearer than she’d heard come from him in months—that alone would have been reason enough for Isabella to cry. And this time, Isa didn’t even try not to.

Three days later Isa drove to Redeemer Community Church. She was still in the parking lot when she received a text from Ethan:

Not feeling great this morning. I’m not going to make it to church. Tell me how it goes.

She sat in the car for five minutes trying to decide whether to go in alone or not. Finally she got out, feeling guilty for wanting to leave without Ethan there by her side.

I drove here to go to church. I’m a grown woman who can go in by herself…and I can leave if I feel awkward. I’ll just sit in the back.

She found a seat in the back row and felt semicomfortable until someone waved at her from across the aisle. She recognized the guy as one of Ethan’s firefighter buddies.

Oh great. Now he’s walking over here.

She pasted on a smile as Caleb and a woman Isa assumed was his wife slid into the row next to her.

“Hi, Isabella!” Caleb said, and introduced her to his wife, Hallie.

As they chitchatted, Isa felt less awkward. Worship began and she let herself enjoy the music, conceding the fact that she wanted to be there, that sitting with two people who wanted to be her friends was actually nice, and that maybe, just maybe, being at church helped a little with that thirsty feeling inside her.

After the service she talked with Caleb and Hallie, who introduced her to a few more people at the church, and then she decided to surprise Ethan. She picked up lunch to go from a nearby deli and knocked on his door. When the door opened, Isa did a double take. Ethan stood leaning against the doorway barefoot, wearing sweatpants and a shirt that probably needed to be washed. His bloodshot eyes told her he was exhausted.

“Are you okay?” she asked as he let her in. She deposited the lunch sack on the kitchen counter and helped him to the sofa.

“Yeah. Rough night. I may have worked too long in the kitchen yesterday and I was really feeling it all night. I didn’t sleep well.”

Isa stood in front of him, her hands on her hips. “This is crazy. You’re hurt. You shouldn’t even be working yet and you’re trying to run a kitchen!”

He glared at her. “It was one bad day, Isa.”

“It’s a million bad days and you know it!” She raised her voice.

“Exaggerate much? I know I’m hurting. I’m getting an MRI soon.”

“Why are you pushing yourself to the absolute limit? For what? To prove what?”

“I’m not proving anything! I bought a restaurant! I have to run it!” Ethan raised his voice to match hers.

“What were you thinking? Why did you do this?” Isa was yelling now. His anger only fueled her own.

“I was thinking that I didn’t want to sit around and do nothing for months. I was thinking that I’d try something new. I was thinking it sounded like a great opportunity! I was thinking that I needed something to fall back on if I never get to be a firefighter again!” Ethan practically threw the words out at her.

Isa’s blood pressure skyrocketed. “Here’s a crazy thought. You might actually get well if you would let your body heal instead of taking on a new business after you’ve broken your back! There’s a reason the doctor won’t sign off on your returning to work! It’s so you sit at home, not so you go out and do something ridiculous like buy a business that causes you to stand on your feet for hours a day and take on more stress!” Isa shrieked. She glowered at Ethan. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“I don’t need to hear that. It was my decision.”

“You do need to hear that. And, yes, it
was
your decision!”

“Yes, it was! You’re the one who told me that over and over! You’re the one who never wants to let our lives intersect in any real way.”

“What in the world are you talking about?” Isa crossed her arms, her face hot.

“I wanted your input. I wanted to make this decision with you.”

“Oh, please. You knew how I felt about it. Besides, we were barely dating! We’re still barely dating!” Isa started pacing, then stopped, wishing she could stomp her foot, she felt so furious.

“We’re not barely dating! It’s been months! You know how I feel about you.” Ethan struggled to stand back up.

“Stop. Just stop. I’m leaving.” Isa stood still.

“You’re not leaving. We’re talking.”

“We’re shouting!” Isa yelled.

“Fine! We’re shouting!” Ethan sat back down, cringing. Isa softened just a tad at the sight. She tried to steady her shaking voice.

“You shouldn’t be working at the restaurant. I don’t really understand why you’re doing it.”

“I can’t stop,” he said finally. “And you should understand that.”

Isa blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

With bedhead hair and dark circles under his eyes, Ethan stared up at her and Isa felt the impulses to both run out the door and kiss him soundly.

Instead she stood frozen.

“I mean I’m used to being busy and when I’m not, suddenly I feel empty. I don’t have a family like you do. I’m alone over here—don’t you get that? I make decisions for myself without anyone else’s involvement all the time. And I made this one. I bought this restaurant. Yeah, I knew you didn’t want me to. But I wanted it. And while I want you, I never really know where I stand with you.”

Isa trembled without warning at his words,
I want you.

After that declaration, Ethan closed his eyes and laid his head back on the sofa.

“You want to be in a relationship with me now, Ethan. How do you know you’ll feel the same a few weeks from now? A few months from now?” Isa asked in a small, quiet voice.

He opened his eyes. “What do you want, Isa?” he asked without answering her questions.

You.
She swallowed. “For my dad to be well, for my life not to feel so hectic, for God to answer my prayers. I want to feel happy at my job. To be married. To have children. To have one night’s rest where I wake up feeling like I’m living the life I was meant to live. To wake up not feeling so tired. I’m tired of being tired. I want…I want an abundant life,” her voice ebbed and flowed, her words starting with fervor and ending in only a soft mumble.

He leaned over, his elbows on his knees. Isa stared at his ruffled hair.

“What is that?” he asked.

“I don’t even know anymore,” Isa answered.

“Well…I know what I want, too. I want to be well again. I want to be strong again. I want to be a firefighter and run my own restaurant and have a girlfriend who understands me and wants me to be part of her life and who wants to be part of mine.”

“I do want you to be part of my life,” Isa said, taken aback.

“It doesn’t always feel that way.”

Isa tensed up. “Well, you say you want me. You say you want me to be part of your life. You say you want my input. But you’ve known all along I didn’t want to date someone in the restaurant business. You’ve known I’ve thought you were taking on too much while you’re still struggling to heal from your injuries. So my opinion doesn’t seem to really matter all that much. And besides all that, you know I have so much going on in my own life right now—my work, my dad’s health, my family, my friends—I don’t even have time to sleep!”