Paige's Miracle

Chapter 2

IT MIGHT HAVE been a blessing, Paige mused as she unlocked her door that evening. Nearly every call she'd made at work had ended with the recipients arguing that they didn't owe the money. In a few cases, they'd turned their anger on her. Although unpleasant, it kept her mind—at least briefly—off her own troubles. She'd worked late but was grateful for the extra hours. She could barely make ends meet, even without factoring in Jason's medical expenses not covered by her insurance or any indulgences for Christmas.

Despite her worries, she smiled as she entered her living room. Louise Bennett had been true to her word. A teapot covered in a quilted cozy sat on the coffee table. Mrs. Bennett reclined on the sofa, her hands folded tidily on her lap, her head drooping forward in sleep. She snored softly.

Paige nudged her gently. "Mrs. Bennett. I'm home."

Mrs. Bennett's head jerked up, and a hand flew to her chest. "Oh, my goodness. I must've fallen asleep." She smoothed her short, wavy hair. "Sit down, honey. I've made our tea." She lifted the cozy and tested the temperature of the pot to make sure the tea was still warm.

"I appreciate it, but it's quite late. You should go home."

"Nonsense!" She waved dismissively. "I said we'd talk when you got home, and we will. You shouldn't keep things bottled up inside."

"Mrs. Bennett . . ."

"We're going to talk," Mrs. Bennett declared emphatically.

Paige realized it would be useless to argue. "All right. Let me check on Jason first."

She opened his bedroom door quietly. In the glow of the nightlight, she could see her little boy snuggled in his blanket. His arms were wrapped around his teddy bear, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted. She heard his even breathing. Satisfied that he was sleeping peacefully, she closed his door.

Mrs. Bennett was pouring their tea when Paige walked into the living room. "Go ahead, dear. Tell me what happened," she said.

"Oh, Mrs. Bennett. It's awful," Paige began. "Jason's tumor has recurred. His oncologist, he . . . he believes Jason has less than a year left. He . . ." Paige dropped her head into her hands and struggled to hold back the tears. Mrs. Bennett folded Paige in her arms and held her tightly as she cried.

When the tears turned into dry, hitching gasps, Paige pulled back and wiped her eyes with her fingertips. Accepting the tissue Mrs. Bennett offered, she blew her nose and fought to collect herself. "The doctor . . . he feels Jason's only chance now is surgery to remove the tumor. But even if I could afford it . . ." She choked back a sob. "The risks are significant. His chances of survival are . . . low."

Mrs. Bennett's eyes filled with tears, too. "I know it's hard. But think about all the challenges he's already overcome."

Paige raised anguished eyes to Mrs. Bennett's.

"Wasn't Jason just three when he was first diagnosed? And didn't you both get through it, despite his father deserting you?" When Paige was about to interrupt, Mrs. Bennett raised her hand. "I know what you're going to say in his defense. 'It wasn't that simple.' But let's face it. He abandoned you. You and Jason were both strong and determined, and you made it through. Then the tumor came back."

The horrific day when Paige learned the tumor had reappeared the first time was indelibly etched in her mind. As today would be. "Yes, it came back five months later."

"And?"

"And . . ." Paige said in a whisper, "Jason underwent treatment and made it through again."

"Twice you've beaten it. Twice. Can't you believe you can beat it again? And this time for good?"

"I'd like to think so, but I don't know." Paige shook her head. "I just don't know."