Adam's Promise. Gail Martin Gaymer
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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.
“Mad as a hornet.”
“What happened?”
“Barclay again.” Frank dropped his sandwich onto the plate and slapped his hand on the tabletop. “The man’s stealing business right out from under him…and it’s not the first time.”
“You mean Montgomery Construction lost another bid?” Jake said.
Frank nodded. “It’s the fourth, and this time Joe said they gave a low bid. He told me he knew no one could underbid him. The company would have barely made a profit.” He rapped his knuckles on the table beside his plate. “I’d like to get my hands around that crook’s neck.”
“Dad,” Colleen said, “you don’t know he’s a crook. He’s a businessman. A mogul.”
“Mongrel is right,” Frank said.
Colleen didn’t give up. “Dad. Look at those gorgeous hotels he owns all over town. The guy must know what he’s doing. You can’t blame him because he doesn’t give his business to Montgomery Construction.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Colleen.” Her father shook his fork at her. “I co-owned Montgomery Construction once. Remember that. I know about business. That guy’s doing something shady.”
“Frank,” Liza said, “let’s enjoy our dinner.”
“Who won the bid?” Jake asked, ignoring his mother’s plea for a relaxing meal.
“Same company as last time. Elroy Construction.”
Jake shook his head. “Never heard of it.”
“Ready for coffee and pie?” Liza rose and gathered the empty plates around her.
Kate covered a grin, watching her hostess’s ploy to distract them from their conversation.
“What kind of pie, Mom?” Colleen asked.
“Aunt Fiona’s apple pie. We picked up two a couple days ago.”
“Aunt Fiona’s?” Jake asked. “My favorite.”
Liza smiled. “How about à la mode? Vanilla ice cream?”
“I’ll take a big piece,” Jake said.
Kate decided to pass on dessert. If she didn’t skip the pie, she’d pass out at the table for sure. Sleep was the only thing that sounded good to her.
Rest didn’t come easy for Kate. Her body jerked and her eyes flew open as she began to sink into sleep. She’d been up two full days, and her senses had set themselves on the edge of awareness.
Kate couldn’t believe they’d given her the use of Adam’s old