by Francis Ray
“Yes. I know all that.” Adam shifted restlessly. “Make your point.”
Scott’s sigh was long and eloquent. “I think we’re pushing it, if we continue to wait. The retina can only take so much. We’ve gained some good news in that the iris muscle is responsive in the right eye, but we’re still in the dark with the left eye.”
Adam felt the effects of his words like a heavy weight on his chest. “You– you think the left eye is not going to clear up?”
“I don’t know, Adam. But I think we’ve about used up the time we can safely wait to go in and have a look.”
Adam rose, took a step, and realized he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go or what he had planned. “I—” He shut his eyes tightly, then opened them. “I won’t believe I won’t get my vision back.”
“Adam—”
“No, Jonathan.” Adam held up his hand to stop the words he was sure he didn’t want to hear. “I’m going to get my sight back.” He stuck out his hand. “Thank you, Louis, for coming so quickly.”
His hand was grasped and held. “I want to see you in two weeks. Three at the most.”
“By that time, I’ll be seeing you,” Adam said. He refused to let doubt creep in when his friend released his hand. Firmly he turned to where he had last heard Romero’s voice and again extended his hand. “Romero, I owe you one.”
Adam heard the squish of the man’s shoes on the floor. The sound had come from behind him. Adam waited for the radiologist to come to him as Brent had taught him.
“Glad I could help,” Dr. Romero said, shaking Adam’s hand. “Take care of yourself, Adam.”
“Come on, Jonathan. We have two anxious women waiting outside.” Adam’s fingers grasped the fine wool of Jonathan’s suit. “Wait until Kristen hears.”
Troubled, Jonathan glanced at both doctors. Their faces were grim. “Adam, perhaps you should wait for a couple of weeks.”
“I’ve waited three months, Jonathan.” Adam’s fingers flexed on Jonathan’s arm. “Are we leaving or do I have to find my own way?”
Jonathan moved. Adam never missed a step. Brent had done the same thing many times, in his words training Adam for any eventuality.
Outside the room, the clicking of heels alerted him of the women approaching. “I’m going to see again, Mother.”
Eleanor threw herself into his arms and held tight. “Thank God. Thank God.”
“That’s not exactly what the doctor said, Adam.” Jonathan would have given anything not to have Eleanor jerk around and stare at him with fear in her eyes.
“What are you saying?” she asked.
Adam’s jaw tightened. “Jonathan is being his pessimistic self, as usual. The hemorrhage is clearing in the right eye.”
“Not the left,” Jonathan reminded him.
“It will,” Adam vowed. “Aren’t you going to say something, Lilly?”
Lilly felt as if she had been shown heaven, then hurled into hell. Despair and fear were only two of the many emotions warring within her. “I’m not sure I know what to say.”
Adam turned his mutinous face toward Jonathan. “See what you’ve done?”
Jonathan stared at the crushed expression on Eleanor’s face, so totally different from the excitement when she had rushed into his room this morning. “It’s not fair if they don’t have all the facts.”
“Adam, what did Dr. Scott say?” Eleanor asked, her arm slowly withdrawing from around her son’s neck.
“He thinks I should have surgery within the next couple of weeks. Three weeks at the most. He’s concerned that the hemorrhage will cause scarring if we wait much longer.” Defiantly Adam squared his shoulders and lifted his head. “By that time, my vision will have returned, so there’s no sense in discussing the matter.” He took his mother’s arm. “Let’s get out of here and go tell Kristen.”
Eleanor threw a questioning look at Jonathan. He shook his head. Briefly she closed her eyes and fought the stinging moisture. “Of course. Kristen should be home by now.”
“Did you pace the floor and wait for her?” Adam asked as they moved down the carpeted hallway of the outpatient wing of the hospital.
Eleanor was unable to keep from sending a guilty glance back at Jonathan. She flushed.
“I was just teasing, Mother. No need to tense up,” Adam told her.
Carl opened the front door by the time the musical chime faded to the last note. They were taking the limo back to the airport as soon as they picked up the luggage and Kristen.
“Thanks, Carl. Where’s Kristen?” Eleanor asked as she and Adam entered the house.
The gray-haired man’s brow furrowed. “I haven’t seen her, Mrs. Wake-field.”
“She’s not home yet?” Eleanor asked, looking from the obviously uncomfortable-looking butler to the top of the stairs.
“I’m not sure. She has her own key. She could have come in while I was in the back,” he told her.
“You haven’t heard from her since she left?” Adam asked, worry in his voice.
“I’ll go check her room.”
Eleanor headed for the stairs, guilt dogging her steps. After she had left Jonathan’s room she had gone to her room and taken a long, hot bath. Instead of waiting for Kristen as she had planned, she had fallen asleep in her chaise longue while reading a book and hadn’t awakened until Lilly called that morning.
The knock on her daughter’s door was brief, almost desperate. If anyth—
“Yes?” Kristen called.
Eleanor sagged with relief. “It’s Mother, baby. Can I come in?”
“I’m getting dressed. Give me a minute.”
“Is she all right?”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Jonathan; a few feet behind him was Adam, and Lilly was directly behind him. “She’s dressing.”
“Tell her to hurry.” Adam started back down the stairs with Lilly by his side.
Jonathan stared at Eleanor a long moment. “Don’t even think it.”
She shook her head. It wasn’t difficult to know he was aware of her guilt. “Please tell Carl to have Alice prepare breakfast.”
“Just remember what I said.”
Eleanor opened the door. Kristen was pulling a bulky black sweater over her head. “You’ll faint in that once we get off the plane in Shreveport.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Eleanor frowned. Usually after a date or outing Kristen couldn’t wait to tell her what had gone on. “Did you have fun?”
Kristen finally turned, but to Eleanor the smile on her daughter’s face seemed forced. “Sure.”
“You don’t sound like it.” Eleanor’s concern deepened.
“I’m just sad. I’ll miss my friends.”
“But you’ll keep in touch and make new ones,” Eleanor assured her, her unease disappearing. Graduation from college was a big step into the unknown. “You’ve always enjoyed New Orleans.”
“I may not be going to New Orleans.” Kristen picked up a brush on the dresser and began pulling it through her long, straight hair.
Shock swept across Eleanor’s face. “You’ve already been accepted for a position. You start in August.”
Kristen’s hand paused. “Eric wants me to get a job in New York. His parents are in the Hamptons. My professor says he could help.”
“You’ve obviously given a great deal of thought to this.” Eleanor tried to keep her voice calm. With a mother’s instinct she knew Eric was all wrong for her daughter.
“I have. I want to go.” Kristen faced her mother.
Her heart sinking, Eleanor studied her daughter closely. “You think you’re in love with him, then?”
Kristen’s chin lifted. “Yes, and I don’t want to lose him.”
“Distance shouldn’t affect your relationship if you’re really in love.”
“Did you come up to get me for breakfast?” Kristen replaced the brush on the dresser.
Eleanor realized two things: Kristen’s mind was made up, and she hadn’t gone to her room w
hen she returned home. Both were disturbing. “Not exactly. Adam wants to tell you himself.”
Fear leaped into Kristen’s dark eyes. “His eyes aren’t getting worse, are they?”
“No.” At least Eleanor hoped they weren’t.
Kristen was out the door. She hit the stairs running and didn’t stop until she was kneeling in front of Adam. “What happened?”
He grinned. “You’re a beautiful blur out of my right eye.”
“Adam!” she cried, reaching for him.
Laughing, his arms closed around her. She flinched. His hold loosened immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to squeeze you so hard.”
Her gaze skirted away, then back. “How soon before it clears completely?”
“Dr. Scott isn’t sure, but it will,” Adam said adamantly.
His sister laughed. “You bet it will. Oh, Adam, this is wonderful. Have you called Nicole yet?”
Beside him, Lilly stiffened.
“No. You might as well know that Nicole and I have decided to call it quits.”
Kristen sat back on her heels. “Are you sure?”
“It was over long before now, Kristen,” Adam said. “Sometimes it’s not meant to be.”
“How do you know?” she asked quietly.
Adam heard the doubt in her voice and wondered if she meant generally or was referring to something specific. Before he lost his sight he couldn’t have answered. Now he had no problem. “Your heart, your mind, your soul will tell you. All you have to do is listen.” He twisted his head to one side. “Is this about Eric?”
“Yes,” she said in an excited rush. “If I can get a job at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, and my professor feels that I can, I’m going there instead of New Orleans.”
“You’re changing plans you’ve had for the past year for a man you’ve known only a few months?” Adam asked incredulously.
Kristen impatiently swept her long black hair over her shoulder. “It doesn’t take years. Mother knew from the first she wanted Father, and she was the same age.”
“You want to marry him?” Eleanor asked, hesitant to point out that at her daughter’s age she had been very mature, a sophomore medical student, and as self-assured and opinionated as they came.
Kristen came to her feet. “I didn’t say anything about marriage. I’ll just go see if Alice is ready to serve.”
“I don’t like this,” Eleanor said as Kristen swept from the room. “I wasn’t impressed when I met Eric.”
“She’s too old to forbid her to see him or move to New York,” Jonathan said. “She’d mentioned moving to New York the day she called about her graduation.”
Furious, Eleanor whirled on him. “And you didn’t tell me?”
Jonathan unflinchingly met the censure in Eleanor’s eyes. “Kristen’s not the secretive type. I thought she had mentioned it to you.”
“Of course, Jonathan. I’m sorry. I should have known.” Feeling helpless and not liking it one bit, Eleanor looked back at the empty doorway through which Kristen had disappeared.
“Forget it.” Jonathan touched her arm in reassurance. “Why don’t I go see what’s keeping her? I guess I don’t have to tell either of you not to gang up on her or try to push her. You’ll only make her more determined to bolt. No matter what, she wants your approval. But if you try to push, she can be as stubborn as either of you ever dared to be.”
“What’s your opinion of him, Jonathan?” Adam asked, his brows furrowed.
“Not good.” This time when he turned away he kept going.
Adam’s hand fisted impotently. “Damn. If I could see—”
“It wouldn’t change a thing,” his mother finished. “She’s growing up. We just have to be there for her.”
“You’re right.” He reached out his hand. “Let’s go find them.”
Lilly stayed where she was on the sofa. There was a distinct ache in the region of her heart, and she was sure it would remain there until the day she died. The pain had begun and spread with each breath ever since Adam’s comment on the length of time Kristen had known Eric. A few months. She and Adam had known each other less than that.
She had deluded herself. There was nothing special about Adam’s feelings for her. To him she was little more than a glorified companion.
Adam was troubled. Lilly hadn’t said two words since they left the clinic.
Not that she’d had much of an opportunity. His mother and Jonathan had taken turns drawing Kristen out about her plans, neither approving nor disapproving. It became obvious very quickly that, as she said, her plans had not been finalized. If any of them had anything to say about it, they never would be.
He’d never met Eric, but if Jonathan didn’t care for him that was good enough for Adam. But for the moment at least, they didn’t have to worry about Kristen. She still planned to return with them to his estate.
His immediate problem was the silent woman sitting next to him.
All during breakfast, Lilly remained quiet. He could understand her rationale not to interfere in a family matter, if that was what it was. He just wished he knew if that was the only reason for her silence.
Although she was mere inches away, he didn’t “feel” her. He couldn’t explain it any other way except it was almost as if she had shut herself away from him. It scared him. He felt a deep connection with her that he couldn’t explain. She’d become an important part of his life. When she was around, even in his darkness she brought a ray of hope. He didn’t plan on losing her.
“Lilly, are you finished?”
“W-why. Yes.”
He tried to figure out if she had sounded nervous or upset, then decided it didn’t matter. He’d find out what was bothering her very shortly.
He came to his feet, shoved his chair beneath the table, then closed his hand on the padded back of her chair. “Please excuse us. We’ll be in the gardens. Lilly?”
Her gaze refused to meet those of the others. “Excuse me.” Pushing her chair back, she stood and closed trembling fingers around the arm he extended.
Adam spoke when they walked onto the stone patio. “There’s a wooden bench by an arbor of bougainvillea. We can sit there.”
Lilly knew the place. She and Jonathan had strolled over the entire garden to escape Nicole’s possessive behavior. At the time, Lilly had thought she couldn’t feel more out of place or hurt. She had been wrong.
“Here we are.” Lilly stopped in front of the bench, then glanced at Adam when he made no move to sit.
“Ladies first.”
Her breath came in sharply. “Y-You can see?”
“I can feel you looking at me,” he answered simply.
She stared at him in openmouthed wonder and embarrassment and immediately thought of all the times she had watched him.
“Please sit down, Lilly.”
Head downcast, she sat and folded her hands in her lap.
Sitting close beside her, Adam crossed his long legs, leaned back, and placed his arms on the back of the bench. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“You may as well tell me,” he told her. “I’ll get it out of you sooner or later.”
His self-assurance hit her the wrong way. “Why? Because you’re so superior and I’m so stupid?”
“What kind of nonsense is that?” His face furious, he twisted toward her. “You’re not stupid, and I don’t ever want to hear you refer to yourself that way again. Now tell me what the hell is the matter with you!”
“You don’t care, so stop pretending!” she shouted and started to stand.
His hand caught her, and he came to his feet with her. “What has gotten into you? What happened between last night and this morning? Did Nicole call?”
“No, she didn’t call. It’s you.”
“Me?” He frowned, then released her arms. “My blindness never bothered you before.”
She pushed against his chest with both hands. He stumbled backward, then quickly righted himself. “Don
’t you say anything so cruel and asinine. It’s what you said.”
Adam was lost, and it had nothing to do with his blindness.
He had no idea what he had done or said, but he knew he had better try to figure it out in a hurry. Lilly was spitting mad and she wasn’t going easy on him because he couldn’t see. Thank goodness.
“Could you give this cruel—unknowingly I might say in my defense— stupid man a clue so he can apologize?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving when we get back.”
He was upon her so quickly she didn’t have time to move. “No! Talk to me. What did I do? Don’t leave me.” He pulled her into his arms. “Please.”
Stunned, she could do nothing. Then her arms came up around him and held tight. Without being told, she knew that Adam had pleaded for few things in his life. It tore her up to think of him frightened. She was being greedy again, wishing for something that could never be. “I won’t leave. I won’t leave.”
He couldn’t tell if it was him trembling or herself. “What did I say?”
She opened her mouth to say, “Nothing,” then snapped it shut. Adam was relentless when he wanted something. His single-mindedness was probably what had made him such an exceptional doctor. He’d hound her until she told him. But the truth would expose her.
“I have to know.”
She opened her eyes but refused to look at him. “You told Kristen she couldn’t possibly give up her plans after knowing Eric for only a few months.”
“And?”
Her head fell forward. “We’ve known each other less than that.”
He pushed her from him. His voice and hands gentled. “She hasn’t seen him at his worst and helped him to try and be the best. How could you compare them to us?”
“Us,” reverberated in her mind over and over. “Us?”
His lips brushed tenderly across her temple. “Our lives aren’t what they used to be, but together maybe we can make them what they should be.”
“Adam—”
His fingertips touched her lips. “You have a legal matter to get past and I have to get rid of my cane.”
“I don’t care about the cane,” she said, her heart booming in her chest.
“I do.” His hand slid to her arm. “They’re probably ready by now and waiting on us.”
