A Little New Year's Romance Read Online Free Page A

okay?”
    “I’ll try.” She hung up, tossed the phone on the coffee table and headed into the bathroom for a good, long shower.
     
    ~~*~~
     
    “Do you want to come with me today?” Daniel pushed the wheelchair up to the table so the boy could eat the breakfast he’d prepared. “Or would you rather stay here with Mrs. Woodrow?”
    “I like her. She’s nice,” the boy replied.
    “That’s fine. I just thought you might want to get out for a change.” He smiled, hoping it showed in his eyes. Daniel loved his eight-year-old son more than anything in the world. He would do whatever he could to help the boy, but there weren’t many doctors familiar with the rare bone disease afflicting his only child. Sure, there were experimental treatments, however, none of them had shown much hope of success for Dylan’s diagnosis.
    “Dad…” The boy trailed off as tears began to form in his eyes.
    “It’s okay, Dylan. I understand.” That was true. The boy was sensitive—like his mother, may she rest peacefully in the arms of the Lord—and he felt like a sideshow freak in public. People were always stopping to stare at the kid in the wheelchair as if they’d never seen anything like it in their lives.
    “I’m sorry.” Dylan’s face twisted and the hot rain fell down his cheeks.
    Daniel knelt in front of his son’s chair, pulled him close, and stroked his hair with a tenderness only a loving father could impart.
    “Please don’t feel that way. I really do understand what it’s like. I didn’t mean to upset you, son.” Daniel felt Dylan’s arms wrap around him as the boy simply sobbed onto his shoulder.
    Minutes passed as Daniel continued to soothe the boy the only way he knew how. He only wanted his son to be happy, and he’d prayed for a miracle, but it hadn’t come. That fact didn’t quell his desire for Dylan to have a normal childhood, so he continued to ask for that one thing. Silently, he asked once again, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time.
    Dylan’s arms relaxed as his weeping subsided. Daniel released him, and the boy sat back in his wheelchair. He stared into his son’s eyes, holding the child’s attention for several seconds.
    “I apologize for making you feel bad this morning. I didn’t mean to do that.” He let his gaze fall to his son’s chest that seemed so thin and frail.
    “It’s okay, Dad.” Dylan’s voice hitched as his tears finally dried. “It’s not your fault.”
    Daniel smiled, cupped the boy’s face in both of his hands, and wiped his tears away. He moved the wheelchair back up to the table, then seated himself.
    “I made your favorites this morning,” he said, piling his son’s plate with waffles, sausage patties, and scrambled eggs.
    Dylan’s eyes opened wide, and lit up brighter than the Christmas tree in Central Park. “Wow! I wish it could be New Year’s Day every day!”
    Daniel chuckled. “Well, I didn’t cook all this just because it’s New Year’s.”
    Dylan’s face contorted with a puzzled look.
    “I made your special breakfast because I’m so glad you’re my son.” He paused, gauging Dylan’s reaction. He still seemed confused. “But that’s not all. I did it because you are the one person in this world that I love more than anything.”
    It was apparent to Daniel that his words were exactly what his son needed to hear. The grin on the boy’s face—and the gleam in those bright blue eyes that were so much like his mother’s—told him he’d succeeded in cheering the child.
    “I love you too, Dad.”
    For the next several minutes, father and son enjoyed their meal in the stillness of the morning. Dylan was the first to break the silence.
    “Dad? I’ve been thinking.”
    Daniel glanced over at the boy. “Oh? What have you been thinking about?”
    “You’re right. I’d like to get out for a little while, so I’m gonna go with you today.”
    “Are you sure, buddy?”
    “Yep. All the people there are nice, and they don’t