Adam's Promise

“You’ll call us?” Frank asked. “No funny business.”

Gordon Reese chuckled. “No funny business. We’ll call if there’s any change…good or bad.”

“Thank you. We’d appreciate that.”

“I told your son and daughter the same thing. They’re staying for a few minutes longer. They said they’ll see you back at your house.”

Frank extended his hand. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome. Now get some rest. You, too, Kate,” he said, looking at her. “You’re all welcome to come back tomorrow morning whenever you’re ready.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Liza repeated. “Yes. That will be fine. Thank you.”

Gordon Reese backed away, and Kate watched him head through the door, feeling better having heard his prognosis.

The Montgomerys gathered up their belongings and ushered Kate out of the waiting room. Discomfort slowed her footsteps, discomfort and exhaustion. She had no business staying with the Montgomerys, but tonight she had no other options, especially when her mind felt knotted in a tight jumble like thread that had tangled and had been rewound on the spool, knots and all.

Outdoors, the early-evening air covered her with dry heat. She slid into the back seat of their sleek, black car and clung to the door handle to stay erect. If she leaned back, she knew she would fall asleep.

The downtown scene flashed past, familiar yet blurred by her weary eyes and her wavering thoughts. They passed the Broadmoor Hotel and sprawling homes that only peeked from behind lush landscaping. With Adam’s father being the mayor, Kate assumed they would live in a nice part of town, but this was more than she’d expected. She’d never seen the Colorado Springs mayor’s residence. She had no idea where it was located.

When the car slowed and turned, Kate willed her eyelids open and focused on the wide drive leading to an expanse of freshly cut lawn. Ahead sat a massive redbrick home with beige trim and brown shutters at the wide French pane windows.

How often had Adam visited this house? she wondered. What she did know was the family who lived here was far out of her league, just as Adam was. She’d admired Adam from afar—his talent, his generosity, his handsome frame, his sparkling blue eyes.

Afar was about as close as she would ever get.

Chapter Four

Standing in the Montgomery living room, Kate marveled at the coziness of the huge house. Someone’s efforts had brightened what might have been a dark, ponderous room by understating the wide woodwork and dark paneled inserts with colorful walls and chintz upholstery. Antiques mingled with traditional furniture were placed in conversational groupings. The room looked genial.

Kate took in the artwork, the abundance of antique dishes adorning the mantle and corner cabinet, and the colorful toss pillows, remembering her meager childhood, her less-than-cozy dwelling.

“Set your luggage in the hall, Katherine. I’ll have Jake carry it up for you when he arrives.”

Kate stepped into the foyer and dropped her luggage beside the stairs. She gazed upward at the rounding staircase that led to rooms she speculated would be as tasteful as the one she’d seen.

“Make yourself at home,” Liza said behind her.

Kate spun around. “The house is lovely. Are the mayors’ families allowed to change the decor? This really looks like you. Such delicate touches.”

Liza chuckled. “The official mayor’s residence is closer to the city offices. When Frank was elected, he chose to stay in our own home, and I was pleased. We raised all three children here. This is where our hearts are.”

Kate’s muddied mind sorted out her words. This was Adam’s childhood home. Her earlier comment brought embarrassment. “I didn’t know. I thought I could see your handiwork. It’s very comfortable.”

“Thank you. I do want our friends to feel welcome here…and please consider yourself a friend, Katherine.”

“Then call me Kate. My friends do.” Except Adam, she mused.

“Kate it is. Now, as I said, you go and make yourself comfortable. I know we’re all hungry, and I’ll just go and see what I can rummage up.”

“Please, let me help,” Kate said.

“Are you sure? I know you’ve been through so much.”

Kate shook her head. “It’ll help me keep the awful memories off my mind.” And keep me awake, she thought.

“Then come along.” Liza motioned for her to follow.

Her gaze lingered on the wide staircase for a moment; she imagined Adam as a child sliding down the banister or taking the steps two at a time the way boys do. She dragged her thoughts to the present and made her way behind Adam’s mother to the kitchen.

Kate gaped as she stood inside the large room with a center island where pots and pans hung, their copper bottoms gleaming just as she’d seen in magazines. She never thought people really used them.

To her surprise, Liza pulled one down and set it on the stove. “Our housekeeper does much of the cooking, but today’s she’s off so I take over. It’s nothing to prepare a meal for only us, but today, my guess is Jake and Colleen will join us.”

“What can I do?” Kate asked.

Liza rubbed her cheek and stared into the refrigerator. “Hmm. Something fast is what we need.”

Kate watched as Adam’s mother pulled out a large ham, a crockery pot full of baked beans and fresh salad greens from the refrigerator. “You’ll find some red skins in the little pantry, there.” She pointed to the door on the left. Kate found the potatoes, and she and Liza worked side by side, preparing the meal.

Soon voices echoed from the hallway, and Colleen made her entrance into the kitchen. She sneaked a sliver of ham from the stack and curled it into her mouth. “Can I help?” she asked between chews.

“You can set the table,” Liza said.

Somewhere in the haze of exhaustion, Kate found herself seated between Liza and Colleen at the dining room table. The fine china and sterling seemed a paradox to the simple home-cooked meal, but Kate accepted the family’s refined ways and placed the linen napkin on her rumpled pants.

Frank stretched his arms toward his wife and son, a seeming family tradition, and Kate grasped the two hands extended to her. They bowed their heads, hands joined, making a circle around the table, while Adam’s father offered the blessing and asked the Lord for Adam’s safekeeping.

Even though the meal consisted of leftovers, the food was delicious, but Kate could only nibble at her meal. Despite being hungry, she felt too tired to swallow. The family conversation rolled as naturally as if she weren’t a stranger. While Adam’s father seemed blustery, she saw a gentleness when it came to his children, like a growling canine who, getting close enough, licks the intruder’s hand.

Kate had little to offer with her mind and body weary and her self-esteem sinking fast as she sat at the gleaming wood table and chairs, cherry or fruit-wood with Queen Anne legs and tapestry seat cushions. The large china cabinet glinted with sparkling cut glass and colorful antique dishes.

Kate listened to the conversation. At first the talk dwelled on the family’s concern for Adam. Colleen and Jake asked questions about Doctors Without Borders and their lives in Venezuela. Kate tried to answer, though her tongue and teeth were no longer in sync.

But soon the conversation drifted to more personal topics. Adam’s home. Adam’s family. Adam’s life. She clung to every thread of his amazing world.

Frank speared a dollop of butter with his knife and spread it across a thick piece of bread. “I talked to your uncle Joe yesterday.” He forked a slab of ham and lay it on top.

“How is he?” Jake asked.

Liza eyed the bread and meat. “Frank, you’re not making a sandwich at dinner, are you?” Her gaze slid to Kate’s while her cheeks flushed. “We have a guest.”

“I certainly am,” he said, taking a chomp out of the concoction. “And Kate can make her own sandwich if she wants.”

Liza shook her head and gave Kate a shrug. Kate grinned and slid a piece of potato into her mouth.

“So what’s up with Uncle Joe?” Jake asked.