Second Chance Cafe (12 page)

Chapter 15

E
than looked through bleary eyes at the clock above his fireplace. Ten-oh-eight. He and Isa had messaged back and forth for just an hour before she’d needed to take more medicine and try to get some sleep. He’d fallen asleep on his sofa. He struggled to sit up, grumbling at the tightness in his back. Falling asleep on the sofa never did him any favors when it came to dealing with back pain. Feeling instantly guilty that he still hadn’t gone in for an MRI, he forced himself to do a few of the stretches that Keira was always encouraging him to do and then ambled into the kitchen. After pouring a bowl of cereal, Ethan took it with him onto the tiny terrace of his apartment. He sat in the one chair that fit on the balcony and looked out at the night sky.

Chatting online with Isabella had told him several things. While he often appreciated space when feeling frustrated with people, Isabella did not. He thought back to her silence after his comment about needing space and he knew without words that space wasn’t what she wanted.

He wondered if she needed it, though—time to think through her feelings and come to a conclusion.

And chatting with her had let him know something else: she’d missed him just as much as he’d missed her. Without saying a word directly about it, she’d somehow communicated to him that she wanted him to invade her space, not give her more of it. Ethan would file that away for the next time they had an argument. And with Isabella Romano, Ethan had no doubt there’d be a next time.

Why did I wait so long to contact her?
he wondered. The truth was that he’d missed her from the moment she’d stormed out of his apartment. When it came to being flirty and persistent with Isa, Ethan didn’t have a problem. Isabella always responded positively to his persistence. They were similar in that fashion. They both liked to tease and joke around. But when it came to feeling hurt and annoyed, Ethan tended to withdraw. He could see now that Isa needed the opposite kind of reaction from him. She wanted him to stick around when things were uncomfortable, not pull back.

Suddenly Mandy’s words reverberated through his mind and made much more sense to him.

She’ll need proof.

Ethan stared at the stars, quietly eating his cereal.

After he finished, he put the empty bowl in the sink and then went to bed, setting his alarm for 4:30 a.m. Breakfast came early at the café and he had a stop to make before work.

At six-thirty the next morning, Ethan stood at Isa’s door, trying to text her while holding bags of food and flowers he’d managed to buy at the grocery store at six in the morning. He figured if she didn’t respond, he’d just leave everything on her doorstep rather than wake her. But she texted back almost immediately.

I’m awake. What’s up?

Come to your door. Do not fix your hair,
he replied. Ten minutes later the door cracked open. Ethan sighed.

“I told you not to fix your hair, Isa.”

“You don’t know what I look like when I roll out of bed, Ethan Carter. I rival Medusa. So yes, I tied my hair in a knot. For goodness’ sake, I’m still in pajamas.”

They just stood there for a moment, Ethan with his arms full of stuff, Isa watching him. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she was sick. Ethan took in her bloodshot eyes, red nose and pale skin.

“You’re going to get sick. I’m still running a slight fever,” she warned.

“Let me in,” he said as he rolled his eyes.

She smiled at that and stepped back, pushing open the door.

“Lucky for you, my mom washed my dishes last night. So the place isn’t a total wreck.”

“Like I’d care, Isa,” Ethan retorted, dropping the bags on the counter and handing her the flowers.

She accepted them graciously. “Are these I’m-sorry-I-took-so-long-to-call flowers or get-well flowers?” she asked as she found a vase in one of the cabinets.

“Both.” The moment Isa turned around, Ethan kissed her, runny nose and all.

When he let her go, he wasn’t sure if her eyes were watery from the illness or if she was almost crying.

“I should have called sooner,” he whispered. She buried her head into his chest and nodded. “I’ll know next time,” he promised.

She pulled away and stepped to the other side of the counter, reaching for a tissue.

“You need breakfast,” Ethan stated. “I made breakfast burritos this time. I also brought some white-bean chicken chili for lunch. It’s a new recipe I’ve found and it’s crazy how good this chili is. You’ll love it. Just heat some up in the microwave. And I’ll be back after the café closes. I’ll bring dinner for us.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to.”

“I’m going to,” he told her. “I’ll decide on dinner. You get to pick the movie we watch. Just text me later and I’ll pick it up.”

“Saturday-night dinner and a movie?” He could see the glee in her eyes. “That sounds perfect,” she said as she sniffed. He reached for her hand, pulled her close to him and kissed the tip of her red nose.

“Go, Ethan,” she said with a sigh. “You’ve got a restaurant to run.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But I’ll be back soon. We need to catch up. I want to hear all about how your dad’s doing. And Leo and Mandy and everybody.”

Isa was already biting into a burrito.

“Am I forgiven, Isa?” Ethan asked.

She wiped her mouth. “Am I?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. You were just being honest with me.”

“What made you finally message me?”

Ethan swallowed. “I’d missed you for a long time. I just needed to talk to you.”

“You sort of disappeared on me, Ethan. That’s happened to me before and it’s not usually a good sign that the relationship is going to work,” she said, her eyes fixed on him.

Ethan felt terrible. “Can I have a second chance?”

“To prove what exactly?”

Ethan smiled. “To prove that I’d rather fight with you than just plain talk with anybody else.”

She tapped her lips.

“Well, Isa?” Ethan pressed.

“How can I say no to that?” she asked with a smile and then a sneeze. She reached for another tissue. Ethan just stared at her while she blew her nose and then had a coughing spell, the truth hitting him like a two-by-four. Without a doubt, he was completely in love with the pajama-clad woman sniffling in front of him. He wanted, maybe even needed, her to be a permanent fixture in his life.

* * *

Isa sneezed and carried a mug of tea with her to the sofa. She shook her head, frustrated that she couldn’t shake the cold. She glanced at the clock. Too many hours until Ethan was coming back to bring dinner and watch a movie. She had nothing to do for the rest of the day. And with such a depleted energy level, there wasn’t much she could do anyway.

She reached for the journal she’d dropped on the coffee table earlier and flipped to the entry she’d left off on. Many entries were just recaps of her days, but some entries were actually prayers she’d written out. Isa enjoyed reading those best.

Dear God,

Thanks for showing up for me today. I was beginning to worry.

Isa paused for a moment, her heart jumping at the words. She thought of Mandy’s challenge that day at her parents’ house to remember a time when God was there for her. She glanced at the month and year at the top of the page. The entry had been written during the first month of her eighth-grade year—the year her family had moved to Colorado. Not the easiest year of her life. Isa went back to the entry.

As You know, I hate it here. I miss L.A. I miss my friends. I miss our house. I miss the staff at Romano’s. I miss Patrick. I miss knowing where I belong.

Isa thought back to Patrick, her first ever “going steady” boyfriend. The relationship had consisted of sitting next to each other at lunch. With a chuckle, she remembered that it hadn’t been quite strong enough to endure long distance. One phone call from Patrick and she’d never heard from him again. Isa kept reading.

God, I still don’t know why You let Dad bring us all out here. I hate starting over. I have to work in the restaurant every day after school. Why me? It was Dad’s choice to move us to Colorado. Now I’m stuck here. I got a letter a couple of weeks ago from Grandma. I’d written her and told her how terrible everything is, and she wrote me back and told me she wants the two of us to pray every day that I’ll make a really good friend. So I’ve prayed every day. And today…well…I think I made a friend. During third period—science, blah!—I sat next to Karen again. She’s super quiet. She
never
talks. But today when Mr. Keegan told us to pair up for an assignment, I leaned over and asked her to be my partner. Seriously, she lit up like a Christmas tree. The girl obviously needs a friend as badly as I do. And we found that we work really well together! She asked me all sorts of questions about L.A. and my family. And we made plans to study together at my house this Thursday.

I know just making a friend seems small. But I finally feel happy after feeling sad for weeks. And I think it’s because You answered my prayer and helped me make a new friend today. Thank You.

Isa read the entry twice, a lump rising in her throat. It did seem small—but it also reassured her somehow. She kept reading. Looking back through teenage Isa’s life humbled her. Even in middle and high school, her faith had been strong. Somewhere along the way, she’d grown cynical and tired. She’d stopped seeing God’s work in her life. But entry after entry gave her glimpses into a girl who trusted God for even the small things. She read through and could picture living through those moments—asking to be forgiven for bad choices in high school, excited for God’s work in her heart during church camp, needing help to know what to do when a friend started struggling with an eating disorder. Through the words on every page, Isa could see God working in her heart and life as a teenage girl. He was there for both the big and small moments.

After a while she rubbed her eyes and set aside the journal, feeling the weight of both past and present decisions.

God, did You stop showing up…or did I stop seeing You show up? I know one thing—I want to see You again. I need to sense Your presence the way I did when I was younger. I’m not that young girl with vibrant faith any longer. Things have changed.

In the silence of her apartment, with only the sound of her own sniffling and coughing, Isa wanted to be changed all over again. She wanted to be a woman who trusted God for even the small things.

It had taken a summer cold knocking her over for her to have a few moments for real introspection. Nothing made her feel weak quite like fever, chills and a runny nose. And for some reason, weakness always pushed her back to God. Isa dug deeper under the throw blanket around her and held the journal to her chest.

I can’t do it on my own, Father,
she prayed.
But if You’ll help me, I think I’m ready for a change. I can see how present You were in my younger years. To be honest, I haven’t been able to see it so much in the past few years. What should I do?

The answer in her heart was immediate.

Seek and you will find me.

Chapter 16

“T
hat’s it, guys! Thanks!” Ethan called out Monday morning as two men hopped back into their truck and pulled out from behind the café. He turned around and went back inside the kitchen, pleased to see his shelves stocked and replenished but, as usual, overwhelmed by the cost of all the food.

Mark was looking through the vegetables. “Everything looks really fresh. I’m excited to start cooking!” he said, tossing a tomato into the air. Ethan grinned.

“Excellent. I was thinking of adding a Cobb salad to the menu. What do you think?” Ethan asked. He put down his inventory clipboard and grabbed a crate of vegetables to take to the pantry.

“Sure. That sounds good,” Mark replied, inspecting a head of lettuce.

Ethan lifted the crate and within seconds he couldn’t hold it. An initial stabbing pain in his back radiated down his leg. He couldn’t even shout; the pain was too intense. The crate, along with Ethan, went sprawling to the floor.

“Ethan!” Mark yelled, rushing over to where he lay on the floor.

Ethan gripped Mark’s arm, trying to hold in the cry of pain he was feeling.

“My back—” Ethan gasped.

“Jenny!” Mark called out. Jenny rushed into the kitchen, her eyes suddenly wide at the sight of Ethan on the floor. “Run next door and grab one of the guys from the fire department. Now!” She disappeared back through the door.

“Can you move?” Mark asked.

With effort, Ethan shook his head. “I don’t think I should—not until the guys get here,” he managed to say. He was sure only a minute or two had passed since Jenny had rushed next door, but every second felt like an hour.

“Ethan!” The relief Ethan felt at the sound of Caleb’s voice was palpable. “All right, buddy. Let’s see what we’ve got here. Andrew, the backboard now.” Ethan felt a neck brace being placed around his neck. Carefully, both firefighters then transferred Ethan to the backboard. Ethan closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing rather than the pain in his back.

“What’s the situation?” Ethan heard the chief’s voice but didn’t open his eyes.

“Ethan lifted a crate and then just sort of collapsed,” Mark told them.

“Was he unconscious?” Andrew asked.

“No,” Mark answered. “Just obviously in incredible pain. I’m not sure what happened.”

Ethan moaned as they carried him on the backboard out of the kitchen.

“Ellie’s bringing around the ambulance. We need to get him to the hospital,” the chief said, his words laced with the intentional calm Ethan had heard so many times.

“Mark,” Ethan said, opening his eyes.

Mark stepped up. “Don’t even think about the café. Everything’s under control. I’ll call in another cook.”

“Ethan, tell me where you’re hurting,” Andrew, the EMT, instructed as they transferred the backboard onto the stretcher.

“Stabbing pain in my lower back. Something might have torn—I’m not sure,” Ethan answered, still concentrating on breathing.

“No doubt connected to the fracture,” Andrew stated.

“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked.

“It could be a number of things—sheared disc, pinched nerve, tumor.”

Ethan held his breath as the stretcher was loaded into the ambulance.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Ethan,” he heard Ellie, the other EMT, tell him. But with the severe hurt he was feeling, Ethan couldn’t believe her.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital, Ethan,” Caleb told him. Andrew peppered him with questions on the way to the hospital—how long had he been in pain? Why hadn’t he had an MRI yet? When was the last time he’d been seen by his doctor? When was his last physical-therapy appointment? Ethan answered him through gritted teeth, also suggesting pain medication might be a good idea right about now.

“I know the pain is bad, but we’ll be at the hospital soon. They’ll want to run tests—let’s just wait till we get there. Do you think you can wait? Just a few more minutes, Ethan, and we’ll be there,” Andrew said. Ethan had closed his eyes in response and stopped answering questions.

He tried to redirect his attention from the fact that he was terrified of the slightest movement. He thought of Isabella and the fun they’d had Saturday night. He’d shown up on her doorstep with a large pizza with everything on it, popcorn and the movie
Ever After,
Isa’s choice. They’d eaten dinner side by side on the sofa, talking about Isa’s father’s progress and the café, and then they’d watched the movie together. Isa had taken her cold medicine before the movie began and had fallen asleep halfway through, her head on Ethan’s shoulder. He’d sat frozen for the next hour, not wanting to wake her.

It was the kind of night he’d like to repeat…oh, maybe every night of his life.

The ambulance hit a bump in the road and Ethan let out a cry and balled his fists. Andrew touched his shoulder.

“Almost there, Ethan. We’re turning in now.”

Along with the pain that made it hard to even breathe, Ethan felt the familiar aggravation and disappointment with his situation. Why did this have to happen to him? He felt too young to have back pain for the rest of his life. He’d just about given up on being a firefighter—now he couldn’t even lift a crate of vegetables. How was he supposed to work? The ambulance slowed to a stop and the doors opened, and Andrew began barking out a status update on Ethan as they pulled him from the back of the truck. Ethan’s mind flashed back to the night he met Isabella. He could picture her in her scrubs the following day, leaning over him with that mischievous smile of hers.

C’mon, tough guy. You’ve got this.

* * *

Isa wrapped her hair in a towel and padded through the apartment in her bathrobe, thankful to finally be breathing through both nostrils. Progress! She changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and sat down after taking one more round of cold medicine. She figured after three days stuck at home battling her cold, she should be able to go back on the schedule that evening. Her phone buzzed beside her but she didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Isabella? It’s Caleb, Ethan’s friend from Company 51. I wanted to let you know that Ethan’s on his way to the Denver Health right now.”

Isa froze, a chill running down her spine. “What happened?”

Father, please…
Her heart began praying before Caleb even responded.

“He lifted a crate at the café and it was too much for him, I guess. I’m not sure what happened but he collapsed and our EMTs took him to the hospital. I’m on my way there now.”

Irritation at Ethan for picking up something heavy, mixed with worry over the fact that he was hurting, surged in Isa. When would he ever learn? Even before hanging up, she’d picked up her purse and grabbed her keys. Locking the door behind her, she speed-dialed her mother’s number and asked her to pray.

* * *

After being examined, Ethan was scheduled for an immediate MRI. After the MRI, he was admitted to the hospital and taken to a room. Caleb walked in.

“Have you heard from the doctor yet?” he asked.

Ethan shook his head. “No, but they finally gave me something for the pain. I know I’ll hear from the doc once he sees the results of my MRI. Thanks for coming, by the way.”

“No problem. I’m glad to be here. The chief had to get back to the station but I have firm instructions to keep him informed. Oh and Mark told me to tell you again not to worry about the café. He’s got it.”

“Yeah, but what about tomorrow? And the next day? What then?” Ethan said, the frustration spilling over. “Why can’t I just get better and things go back to normal? Where is God in all this?” His voice rose.

Caleb stepped closer to the bed, seemingly unperturbed by Ethan’s tone.

“He’s right here in this hospital room with us, Ethan. He’s
right here,
” Caleb answered. “And it could be worse, you know. You haven’t exactly followed the doctor’s orders, buddy.” Caleb raised his eyebrows. “Starting a new business when you’re supposed to be healing isn’t the best way to get back on your feet.”

Ethan laid his head back on the pillow and accepted the truth that Caleb was speaking to him. “I know.” After a moment, he added, “You sound like Isabella.”

“She’s right. And speaking of Isabella, she’s in the waiting room.”

Ethan looked up with interest. “Really? Will you tell her to come in?”

“Sure. What about the other half a dozen Italians waiting with her?”

Ethan blinked in surprise. Caleb grinned. “I think every Romano in the city is in the waiting room.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Ethan responded.

Caleb shrugged. “Her family is with her.”

That thought caused a boulder the size of a fire truck to rise up in Ethan’s throat. That Isa was there for him didn’t really surprise him. It pleased him, though he knew she’d be annoyed when she heard about him lifting a crate. But he knew Isa well enough to know she’d want to be with him if he were hurting. But that her family would show up at the hospital for him too… He felt tears fill his eyes.

“Hey,” Caleb said, keeping his eyes on the doorway, pretending not to notice Ethan’s tears. “I’m going to go get your girlfriend.”

“Caleb—wait,” Ethan said, getting hold of his emotions. Caleb turned. “What’s an abundant life?” he asked.

Caleb looked surprised. “It’s a life lived to glorify God. It’s when you follow God’s leading and you reap the rewards.”

Ethan sighed. “I guess I’m not living one, then.”

Caleb smiled and leaned against the edge of the bed. “Easy doesn’t run parallel with abundant, Ethan. But it does mean you’re never alone. Try to hold on to the promise that God can make all things work together for good for those that love Him. You’re going through a difficult time right now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not right where God wants you. And it doesn’t mean good things aren’t still in store for you.”

At that moment, Isabella walked through the door, her nose still a little red from all the sneezing she’d done in the past seventy-two hours. And despite her narrowed eyes—she was obviously unhappy to see him back in the hospital—Ethan couldn’t help thinking that a key factor for him living an abundant life might have just entered his hospital room.

“If you weren’t lying in a hospital bed, Ethan Carter, I’d yell at you right now,” she said, her arms crossed.

Ethan withheld the smile he felt. Instead he nodded contritely as Caleb ducked out of the room.

“I know. But I
am
in the hospital, Isa,” he said, hoping his pitiful state would soften her clear infuriation. He couldn’t blame her. He was just as frustrated with himself at that moment.

“So I won’t yell at you till you’re feeling better. Caleb said you were lifting a crate or something?” Isa asked, immediately checking his monitors.

“Yeah. Stupid, I know. I didn’t even think. I was feeling fine, so I grabbed the crate. Next thing I know, I’m on the ground, my back killing me.”

She nodded.

“So Caleb said your family’s here?” Ethan said, clearing his throat.

“Mom and Dad and Mandy are here. Mandy has Tony with her, of course. Caleb called me while you were on the way to the hospital. So I basically called everyone I know.”

“Your Dad’s here?” Ethan repeated, shocked.

Isa reached down and took Ethan’s hand in hers.

“He insisted on coming. And he’s doing so much better, Ethan. He wanted to be here for you.”

Ethan felt the already-unsteady wall surrounding his emotions break inside of him. He sucked in a shaky breath and tried not to cry. Isa sat on the bed next to him.

“I’m not used to…family showing up for me,” he stammered.

She nodded with understanding, still holding his hand.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” she whispered.

He sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve taken on too much. And now what am I going to do about the café, Isa? I have to be able to run it. I’ve invested so much. I could lose everything.” Ethan’s voice cracked.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Listen to me. Everything will be fine. I know you’re overwhelmed right now. But you haven’t even heard what the doctor has to say yet. Don’t borrow trouble. Let’s wait and see what can be done. As for the café…God knows your situation, Ethan. He’ll provide a way.”

Ethan cocked his head to the side, a half smile creeping onto his face. “Do you believe that, Isa?”

She looked down at their entwined hands. “I’m starting to.”

“Thank you for coming.” He squeezed her hand.

“Do you know why I’m really here, Ethan?” she asked. He didn’t answer. “Because
this—
” she motioned to the two of them “—this is real for me.” Her voice was quiet and Ethan could see her struggle with the vulnerability of her words. “I’m never going to want whatever this is going on between us to end. I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of fighting with you and making up with you and talking and laughing with you.”

The pain, the stress, the fear—all of it seemed irrelevant compared to the pounding of Ethan’s heart as he listened to Isa’s words.

“Isa, I want you to know that I—”

The door slid open and Ethan’s doctor walked in.

“Hi, Ethan, Isabella,” Dr. Nichols said as he walked in. He stood at the end of the bed. “So it looks like we have things to talk about, Ethan. I assume you want me to continue with Isa here?”

Ethan nodded, tightening his grip on Isa’s hand. “Yes, please.”

“You have insufficient bony union of the L4 vertebra and it has caused a nerve entrapment of the nerve root.” At the blank look on Ethan’s face, Dr. Nichols slowed down and tried to explain. “Ethan, when you lifted the crate, your vertebrae compressed, or ‘pinched,’ the nerve. That’s where the sharp pain came from. The MRI showed us that there’s inflammation on the nerve. Also, we now know that your vertebra hasn’t properly healed. This was missed on the X-ray, unfortunately. The good news is that we can fix this. The bad news is that this means surgery and more physical therapy.”

“What does the surgery consist of?” Ethan asked.

“We’ll need to have a neurosurgeon perform a lumbar foraminotomy, which will widen the space where the nerve root exits the spinal column and possibly fuse the vertebrae back together. You will continue physical therapy after surgery. You’re looking at eight or more weeks of recovery, Ethan. And this time, when I say take it easy, I need you to take me literally on that.
If
you cooperate and let your body rest and focus on therapy, I still expect you to make a full recovery.”