Gail Martin - Adam's Promise

The fire became a whirlwind, like a dervish—yellow, coral and crimson—fading, vanishing into the abyss, taking Kate with it.

His charred body made a final grasp at nothing but darkness.

Kate watched the ICU door swing open as Adam’s brother and sister vanished inside.

Dizziness caught her off guard. She grabbed the arm of a chair to steady herself.

“Are you all right?” Liza asked, shifting to Kate’s side. “You’re exhausted, I’m sure.” She patted the seat cushion. “Sit now and drink some of this coffee. Have you eaten?”

Eaten? Kate hadn’t eaten for hours. Food hadn’t crossed her mind.

“I’m just tired.”

“You should go home, dear. You need food and rest. Do you live in town?”

Her question dropped like a weight on Kate’s shoulders. “I did before I went to Venezuela. I sublet my apartment.”

“Sublet your apartment? Oh, dear.” She turned to her husband. “Did you hear that, Frank? The poor girl sublet her apartment.”

Kate tried to smile. “I thought it was a good idea at the time. I’d volunteered for a year, and I was being frugal. I even sold my car. It was a junker, and I figured…” She shrugged. “Now I don’t know what will happen. I’m not sure if I’ll be sent back or…”

Or what? Her future was hanging by a thread.

Kate realized she was foolish to sit there and wonder. She needed to act. “I’ll have to get a room somewhere until I know what’s happening.”

“Nonsense,” Liza said. “We’ll think of something.” She turned to her husband. “Won’t we, Frank?”

Adam’s father straightened. “Certainly. You saved our son’s life.” He glanced at his wife as if to make sure he was heading in the right direction. She gave him a subtle nod and smiled.

“The least we can do,” he continued, “is invite you to stay with us until you make other arrangements. We have plenty of room.”

“Too much room for the two of us,” Liza added. Then she wagged her finger at Kate. “And no disagreement now. You’ll go home with us.”

“Well, I…”

Kate’s voice faded when she saw Dr. Reese appear in the doorway. The Montgomerys rose, and Liza clutched her husband’s arm as if expecting the worst.

Gordon Reese shook his head. “He’s fine, stable, and I don’t expect a change until morning. I’d suggest you go home and get some rest. Sitting here won’t help Adam. If there’s a change, we’ll call you immediately, but I’m certain he’s going to be fine.” He gave Kate a nod.

Liza looked at her husband, her eyes seeming to question if they should listen to the doctor’s suggestion.

“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.

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.”