by Francis Ray
Lilly didn’t move. There was another concern they needed to discuss. “I don’t want a salary anymore. I have room and board. I use your kitchen for my business; I should be paying you.”
“We’ll talk about it after your legal expenses are paid. Private investigators aren’t cheap.”
He was right. Altogether she had spent over fifteen hundred dollars trying to locate Rafe with no success. “I’m thinking of forgetting about finding Rafe.” “Do you want to expose your soon-to-be ex-husband for the creep he is?”
“Yes,” she answered immediately.
“Then the investigation will continue and so will your salary.”
She shook her head. “But I don’t want it anymore.”
“I understand and it makes me admire your courage and conviction more, but sadly it takes money to gain your freedom. You’ve helped me gain mine; now let me help you.”
Adam understood her better than anyone else in her life. On tiptoes she kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Chapter Twenty
They had barely gotten inside Wakefield Manor before the phone rang. Kristen ran to pick up the extension in the hall. “Hello.” With an audible sigh of disappointment, she turned and held out the phone. “Lilly, it’s for you. A Mr. Powell.”
“Maybe the investigator found Rafe,” Adam suggested.
“Maybe.” Lilly didn’t think so. None of the phone calls from her lawyer had ever contained good news.
“Come on, Jonathan. Let’s get this luggage upstairs.” His cane in one hand and a small suitcase in the other, Adam continued toward the stairs. “It’s a good thing we went by the cottage to drop your luggage off, Mother. We can make this in one trip instead of five.”
“Make that six,” Jonathan bantered, following with a large suitcase in each hand and another one beneath his right arm.
“You two should go onstage,” Eleanor said, trailing behind.
Handing Lilly the phone, Kristen bounded up the stairs behind them with her laptop. “That’s telling them, Mother.”
“Hello.”
“Mrs. Crawford, I’ve been trying to reach you since Saturday,” came the very perturbed voice of her lawyer.
“I was out of town. What happened?” she asked, watching Adam slowly trudge up the stairs with one hand on the rail, the other clamped around the handle of her borrowed suitcase.
“Your court date has been set. It’s July eighth.”
Her attention jerked back to the lawyer. “What?”
“Your court date is July eighth,” he repeated. “The judge took into consideration your going to college and set the date for the Monday following your final exams.”
In three weeks she’d be free of Myron. “Have you been able to find anyone who would testify on my behalf?”
“No.”
“Pastor Fowler—”
“Is a character witness for Mr. Crawford. So is half the deacon board and the women’s auxiliary.”
Lilly leaned against the wall. She had hoped one person might remember her as a kind, giving person, but apparently not if it meant going against Myron. “What time should I be there?”
“Eleven sharp at the courthouse,” he instructed. “Whatever you do, don’t be late. Wear something conservative. Summer school going all right?”
“Yes. My first test is this week.”
“Study hard. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Next time you go out of town, let me know.”
“I’m sorry. I will.”
“Good-bye.”
“Good-bye.” She replaced the receiver in the cradle. Kent Powell had sounded tired, annoyed, and defeated. He might have given up, but she hadn’t. Myron was going to lose.
“Why am I not surprised to find you here?”
Lilly didn’t glance up from pouring a can of stewed tomatoes into a bowl that already contained several other ingredients. “Because in a couple of hours it’ll be time for dinner. Is Jonathan staying?”
“No. When he called his service one of his mothers had gone into labor. Kristen and Mother both are resting. Or supposed to be. They’re both in Kristen’s room.” Folding his arms, Adam leaned his back against the countertop and stiffed. “Onions.”
“For the stuffed bell peppers. We’re also having cabbage, candied yams, and corn bread.” Setting the can aside, she picked up a wooden spoon. “You aren’t tired?”
“I haven’t felt this energized in a long time.” Lifting his glasses, he looked out the window over the sink. “You can’t imagine how good it feels to see light, if only in shadows. When my sight returns, we’ll go back to San Francisco and I’ll show you around.”
Her hand paused. She was at a loss as to what to say. Thankfully, she didn’t have to say anything.
“You ever been to the opera or the ballet?”
“No.” Little Elm didn’t have a theater for live performances.
“You will. The San Francisco Ballet is America’s oldest ballet company. And the Dance Theater of Harlem is a Bay Area favorite. There’s not a city in the world like San Francisco. It’s a visual feast. You’re about finished?”
“Yes. You need me to do something?” Picking up a hollowed bell pepper, she spooned the meat mixture into it.
“I was going to read the possible test questions to you if you’d like and help you study for your exam tomorrow.” He made a face. “If you don’t mind waiting for the computer.”
“Thank you. I’d like that.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you in my study.”
Sprinkling croutons on top of the stuffing in the bell peppers, she tried not to think of what would happen if Adam didn’t regain his sight.
Jonathan hoped no one in Wakefield Manor looked out their window toward the cottage and saw the headlights of his car. It was almost midnight. Two births had kept him tied up at the hospital until eleven. He didn’t like sneaking around, but if it was the only way to have Eleanor he could live with it. She had enough pressure with Kristen’s interest in a man they both thought totally unsuitable.
Then there was Adam’s unwavering belief that his vision would soon return and his making plans as if it would. On the flight back from San Francisco, nothing would do but for him to call Samuel from the air and remind the gardener to start working on plans for the flower garden in front of the house.
Switching off the motor, Jonathan got out of the car. The front door of the cottage swung open and Eleanor ran to meet him. Opening his arms, he rushed to her and caught her trembling body securely against his.
“I’m here, honey. I’m here.”
Her hold was as desperate as her words: “Will he see again?”
There had been no time to talk privately since they’d left the hospital with Adam that morning. “Only God knows.”
She shuddered.
Picking her up, he went inside. He kicked the door shut with his foot and sat on the couch, Eleanor still in his arms. “Scott is the best. He does the surgery while looking into the eye with a microscope. Various miniature instruments are placed in the eye through tiny incisions in the sclera. He’s performed vitrectomies before, but there’s always the risk of retinal detachment. A detachment could require another surgery to repair, and if that fails, the eye will continue to lose sight and blindness will occur.”
She whimpered. She knew this better than he, but she needed to face the reality.
“Then there is the complication of cataract from the vitrectomy and the retinal detachment that can occur when you go in to repair the cataract. The way Adam sees it, if his vision clears by itself, he doesn’t have to worry about complications.”
Jonathan paused and plunged ahead. “If he has the surgery, he runs the risks of complications then and in the months to come. The retina could detach then, five months from now, five years from now, or never. The cataract, if it occurred, would grow slower, but surgery would still be needed and more complications could occur, including detachment. If Adam
gets by those possible complications and if the macula, the central retina area, is normal and there are no blind spots, he can return to neurosurgery.”
“So, you think the odds aren’t in his favor?” Eleanor asked, her voice low and frightened.
Jonathan’s large hand reached out and turned her tearstained face to his before he answered. “I never thought you’d be in my arms, but you’re here. I never thought I could love so deeply, but I do. No one knows what the future holds. All we can do is pray and trust in a higher power to get us all through this.”
Her hand covered his. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I.” His head bent and he covered her lips with his.
Adam had been smiling all Tuesday morning. Hearing the doorbell, he sat forward in his chair and placed both hands on top of his desk. Brent was coming today because they had missed Monday.
Kristen had waited to let the instructor in; then she and her mother were driving into town for lunch and, if he knew them, doing some shopping. Perhaps he should have asked his mother to pick up something for Lilly. She deserved nice things.
“Good evening, Doc. Why the frown?” Brent greeted Adam as he entered the study.
“Just thinking.” Just as soon as he got rid of Brent, he’d call his mother on her cell phone.
“Nothing heavy, I hope. Your sister is as beautiful as her mother. How was San Francisco?”
“Thanks, and San Francisco was wonderful, as usual.” Adam heard Brent’s heavy weight settle in the chair in front of his desk. “In fact, something miraculous happened while I was there. So much so that you won’t be needed anymore.”
“You’re discharging me?” Brent asked incredulously
Adam’s face split into a wide grin. “My vision is returning.”
“Doc, that’s wonderful.” He clapped Adam soundly on the back. “How long before your vision returns completely?”
Adam’s smile wavered. “We’re not sure.”
“Doc, you wouldn’t be trying to get rid of me beforetime, would you?” Brent questioned, laughter in his deep voice.
“I see no reason for continuing the lessons when my sight is clearing.” Why did people refuse to believe he’d regain his sight?
“What do you see?”
Aggravated, Adam clenched his fists. “Shadows.”
“Then why didn’t you blink or react when I waved my hand in front of your face just now?”
“Because the light is bad in here.” Adam shoved up from his desk and walked to the fireplace. “I was going to say I’ll miss you.”
“Where’s your cane?”
“I don’t need it.”
“You don’t want to need it,” Brent countered.
“I’ll see,” Adam said defiantly.
“Tell me what I’m doing.”
Adam folded his arms. There was nothing but a blur. He twisted his head to one side without any clearer defining of objects. “I’m not playing some silly game. You can’t be this hard up for patients.”
“Patients might give up on themselves, but I don’t give up on them,” he said, unperturbed.
“I’m not giving up. I’m going to see!”
“Adam?”
He switched his attention toward the soft, hesitant voice. His arms dropped to his sides. “Lilly, you’re back early. Is everything all right?”
“Professor Higgins let us go early.” She had been afraid of this. Adam refused to even entertain the idea that he wouldn’t regain his sight. She prayed that he was right, but what if he wasn’t? “Maybe you should continue the classes until your sight does come back.”
“You, too.”
It was crushing to see the disappointment in his face, hear it in his voice. “Me, too. I care about you, just like everyone else.” She took a step closer to his belligerent stance. “You don’t expect a flat tire, but you carry a spare just in case.”
He lifted a heavy brow. “If you had a flat, you wouldn’t know how to change the tire.”
She placed her hand on his chest. “No, but I’d try. I wouldn’t feel lost and helpless like I did when I first came here. You helped teach me.”
“Me?”
Her smile was sad. “You had so much taken from you, but you fought back to regain it, moment by moment, day by day. You refused to let life keep you down.”
“Oh, Lilly.” He held her hand and leaned his forehead forward to touch hers. “I was a mean-tempered, arrogant—”
“At first. Not now,” she interrupted.
He sighed. “You see so much in me.”
“Just like you do in me.”
“Brent?”
“Yo, Doc.”
“Drag out the whip.” Adam’s mouth twisted wryly. “I hope you’re aware of what you’re putting me through, Lilly.”
“I just finished a horrendous pop quiz in marketing because you insisted I finish my degree.”
His face intent, Adam grabbed her arms. “How did you do?”
She grinned. “Aced it. Just like the earlier one in business.”
His arms circled her, lifted her momentarily off her feet. “That’s my girl.”
She flushed with pleasure; her heart drummed in her chest; her hands went around his neck. Love flooded her.
“I better get to the kitchen. We had to do a business proposal last week for my marketing class and I did my pies. When the class found out today, I promised to bring a couple to class tomorrow.”
“Pies? What pies?” Brent asked, excitement in his voice.
“Don’t tell him.”
Lilly snatched her hands from around Adam’s neck. She’d momentarily forgotten about Brent.
“Come on, Lilly. Doc, have a heart,” Brent pleaded.
Adam looped his arm around Lilly’s shoulders. “How sweet the sound of an arrogant man begging.” He chuckled. “Lilly makes the most decadent pineapple praline pie in the universe. She’s developing quite a thriving business selling them. If you’re nice to me, I may let her bake you one.”
Brent let out a mournful sound. “I’ll never get one.”
Adam threw back his head and laughed.
He’d be all right, she thought. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
“We do already,” Brent said. “Doc misplaced his cane.”
“Adam.”
Silently Adam went to his desk, bent down, and came up with the cane. “I guess I found it.”
“Doc, you really are something.”
“Ain’t I just,” Adam said.
Brent’s mouth opened and nothing came out.
“I think you did the impossible, Adam,” Lilly said. “Brent is speechless.”
“I’m sure it’s only temporary. Unfortunately,” Adam quipped.
“All right, Laurel and Hardy, that’s enough,” Brent finally said. “Go bake some pies while I see if Doc has forgotten what he’s learned.”
“I’m going.”
More at ease than she had been on the drive back from her campus, Lilly left. Like Mother Crawford had always said, it was all right to pray to God if you were in a sinking boat, but you’d better not stop bailing water.
Adam was bailing water.
Kristen and Eleanor chose an Italian restaurant. Both loved garlic breadsticks, salad loaded with fresh bacon and croutons, and white and red sauce. They each ordered a different entrée so they could share and handed the waiter the menus.
“I’m glad you came back with us,” Eleanor said, trying to feel her way into the conversation.
“Adam needs us, but he’s getting better.”
“Yes, he is.” Eleanor took a sip of red wine, refusing to give in to her fear.
“Is there something between him and Lilly?”
“If you mean romantically, I’m not sure.” Eleanor paused as the waiter placed their salads before them. “I am sure his relationship with Nicole is over.”
Frowning, Kristen picked up her fork. “But they seemed so perfect together.”
“Until Ad
am’s blindness,” Eleanor answered. “Whatever they had wasn’t strong enough to withstand the strain. True love lasts through good and bad times.”
“Like you and Father.” Kristen sipped her wine. “You two had that special kind of love that I want to have. You found the one perfect man on earth for you.”
Her daughter’s words worried her. “Do you think you’ve found it?”
Kristen shrugged. “Perhaps. This is good salad. Maybe we should take Adam back some.”
Eleanor barely kept from sighing. Kristen should have gone into politics instead of art. “The honors thesis you did on how Europe embraced and influenced African-American artists was very good. I can see why the Museum of Modern Art in New York would want you to work for them.”
Kristen’s head came up. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Yes. I won’t lie to you, but I respect you as an adult. You have to make your own decisions.”
“New York would be wonderful.” Kristen almost sighed. “The best museums in the country are there. Not to mention the best theaters and restaurants. I read someplace that it would take five years to eat at every restaurant there.”
“Then you’ve made up your mind?”
Kristen braced her arms on the table. “Not yet. I’m waiting for the director of the museum to call, and then I have to go up for an interview.”
“A formality.” Eleanor added pepper to her salad. “He’ll hire you. He’d be crazy not to.”
Kristen smiled. “I’m glad you’re my mother.”
“You’ve made me proud since the day you were born,” Eleanor said.
“I’ve tried,” she said softly.
The shadows in her daughter’s eyes troubled Eleanor. “You succeeded. No parent was ever prouder. Now eat up so we can see the dessert menu.”
Eleanor stood in front of the unfinished canvas, her brush moving with a surety that she had not had in a long time. The reason heated her cheeks and the center of her body. She loved and she was loved. Problems remained, but she had someone to share those problems with.
The delineation of Jonathan’s muscled chest and legs needed to be perfect. The sudden squall had caught him unaware. His dark shirt flapped in the wind; his wet jeans were plastered to his legs as lightning flashed in the distance. He pitted his strength against the elements, determined to win, determined to return to her.
