Trouble Don’t Last Always (25 page)

From experience, he knew navigating the hallway wouldn’t be much of a problem. He’d practiced numerous times by himself without a mishap. With the cane repeatedly making an arch above the floor, he made his way to the top of the stairs. Here things would get a little trickier, but nothing, Brent had assured Adam, he couldn’t handle. He’d gone up and down several times, but never without Brent being there to guide and warn him.

“Pretend I’m there,” Brent had said.

Adam anchored the cane to the back of the first step and moved up diagonally with it, then drew in a fortifying breath and stepped into nothingness. As always, his heart rate increased; his palms dampened.

When his foot settled on the stair beside his cane, he breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately repeated the process. Brent had warned Adam of the fear that could paralyze a person. That was one lesson Adam already knew.

“How long have you been there?”

“Just since the last few stairs,” his mother said, stepping to the right side of him at the bottom of the stairs. “Do you want to take my arm?”

“Thanks.” His hand closed around her upper forearm. “Has Jonathan made it yet?”

“You know I make it a practice never to be late for surgery or a meal,” Jonathan said, his voice followed by his distinctive laughter coming from directly in front of Adam. “Thanks for the invitation.”

“Thanks for hanging in there,” Adam said, stopping at his mother’s slight pause. From the number of steps and the direction they had taken he knew they were in front of the sofa in the living room.

“When you love someone you have no choice,” Jonathan said softly.

Adam felt the sudden tension in his mother and wondered about the cause; then his puzzlement cleared. She was probably worried about him and his first dinner party since his blindness. Reaching over, he touched her arm in reassurance.

“We’re having before-dinner drinks in here,” Eleanor said, her voice slightly husky. “Lilly should be here shortly.”

“What would you like to drink, Adam?” Jonathan asked.

“Nothing, thank you,” Adam said. He was about to ask about Lilly when he heard her footsteps. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Just checking on dinner one last time,” Lilly said, hoping Eleanor didn’t comment that instead of her shirtwaist dress she was wearing a white blouse and the navy blue skirt to her suit. She’d put her hair up in a chignon and wore the small pearl earrings she’d gotten when she worked at JC Penney.

“You look lovely tonight, Lilly,” Eleanor said.

“Thanks,” Lilly said, pleased. Eleanor always looked good, as she did now in a pink floral silk dress.

“What did you fix tonight that is going to shoot my cholesterol level sky high?” Adam teased, reaching out his hand.

Immediately she took it, used to the little jolt she felt. Brent had called the contact anchoring; she just called it titillating. “Honey-glazed ham and a special dessert.”

“Jonathan, if you’ll escort Mother, we can go in. Lilly will sit on my right.”

“I can’t—”

“For once, don’t argue.” In one smooth motion, he took her arm and went to the dining room.

Lilly, afraid of balking and throwing him off-balance, helplessly followed. She didn’t say anything until he released her to step behind her chair and pull it out smoothly. Fleetingly she wondered how long he had practiced the simple task to make it seem so effortless.

Not for anything would she ruin his triumph. “I’ll sit for a moment, but then I have to get up and serve.”

Adam released her chair once she was seated; then he took his own seat. “We’ll manage.”

“I have an idea,” Eleanor said. “I’ll put everything on the serving cart and bring it in.”

“Excellent idea. I’ll help,” said Jonathan.

“No,” Eleanor said, waving him back into his seat. “Please stay seated.”

“I’ll go.” Lilly was already pushing back her chair.

“Keep her here, Adam,” Eleanor admonished. “She’s been working all day cooking and polishing silverware. Lilly, you didn’t want any help then, but let me do this.”

Lilly realized his mother needed to help make the evening a success. “Thank you. I have the serving dishes already set out.”

Eleanor hurried to the kitchen.

Lilly watched Jonathan watch Eleanor leave. “Jonathan, the sangria is in the refrigerator. Could you get it, please, and fill the glasses?”

“I’m on it.” Standing, he followed Eleanor into the kitchen.

Eleanor removed the ham from the roasting pan and placed it on the platter, careful not to disturb the garnish of parsley. She was thankful she had finished when Jonathan strolled in. Her palms actually dampened. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking of the kiss he’d playfully mentioned. “I can manage.”

“Lilly sent me for the sangria.”

“Oh,” she said and turned away to reach for the sautéed baby asparagus. She transferred them into a chafing dish and noticed Jonathan was still there. Her questioning gaze went from him to the glass pitcher of iced punch in his hands.

Jonathan nodded toward the living room and the sound of laughter. “I thought it might be easier for Lilly to get more comfortable if it was just she and Adam there for a few minutes.”

Eleanor’s nerves settled. “I’m glad you and she seem to be getting along.”

He shrugged broad shoulders beneath the tailored gray suit coat, then came over to lean against the cabinet, one hand beneath the glass pitcher he held. “We discovered we have a common goal.”

Eleanor didn’t have to ask what the common goal was. She did need to seek reassurance in another matter. “It’s going to be all right, isn’t it, Jonathan?”

He hesitated, then set the pitcher down and came to her to take her shoulders in his big hands. “If you’re asking if Adam’s sight will return, I can’t give you any guarantees. If you’re asking if he’s becoming more and more like the man we knew, the answer is yes. But if you’re asking if he doesn’t regain his sight, will he shut us out again, I honestly don’t know.” “You could have lied.” Slowly he shook his head. “I’ll never lie to you, Eleanor. About anything.”

Dropping his hands, he stepped back and picked up the pitcher. “You sure you don’t need any help?”

She started to say yes and then realized before “it” happened she would have thought nothing of Jonathan helping. “After you serve Lilly and Adam, if I’m not out, you can come back and help.”

“Will do. By the way, you start on the painting for my office yet?”

She responded to the twinkling in his dark eyes. “I have.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what subject you decided on?”

“I always said you were a very perceptive man, Jonathan.”

He stood smiling at her for a few moments longer, then strolled from the room.

Watching his long, graceful strides, Eleanor felt a calming of her spirit. No matter how erratic her emotions ran in regard to Jonathan, she’d be forever grateful that he was an important and needed part of her and her children’s life.

To Lilly’s delight, dinner went smoothly. Adam was initially hesitant to tackle cutting his ham, but once he had the first bite in his mouth, the tension visibly drained out of him. For Lilly, it had taken longer. She knew how much this dinner meant to Adam. If it didn’t go well, he might not try again.

“Lilly,” Jonathan said, “I see what Adam meant.”

“This dessert is decadent,” Eleanor said, taking another bite of pie loaded with pineapple, walnuts, and pecans.

“Told you,” Adam said with satisfaction, digging into his second slice of pineapple praline pie.

Lilly had a wide grin on her face that was getting bigger by the second. “Thank you. It’s a recipe that has been handed down through four generations.”

“Your family’s?” Eleanor asked.

The smile on Lilly’s face wavered. “My mother wasn’t much on cooking. Mother Crawford taught me. She was the one good thing that came out of my marriage. She was eighty-one years old when she died and probably never regretted a thing she did.”

“Very few people can probably say that,” Adam said with feeling. “She sounds like she was a wonderful woman.”

“She was.” The memories, tempered by time, were not as painful. “I’ll always remember her and be glad we met.”

“From the way you speak of her, she must have felt the same way about you.” Adam sipped his drink. “I can’t imagine she shared her recipe with many people.”

“I was the only one,” Lilly admitted proudly.

“Then be thankful for the time you had together,” Eleanor said softly.

“I am, despite how things turned out otherwise.” Lilly folded her hands in her lap. “I’ll never regret she was a part of my life.”

“I’m glad she entrusted you with the recipe. I need a dessert for the monthly potluck dinner the day after tomorrow at the office. Do you think you could cook me a pie like this one?” Jonathan laid his fork on his empty plate. “Of course, I’d pay you and buy the ingredients. My staff teases me all the time about trying to fake them out by putting whatever I get from the deli in a bowl from home. This would shut them up for good.”

“I’ve tasted your cooking,” Adam teased. “They should be thankful.”

“That’s what I’ve tried to tell them, but they aren’t listening.” He turned to Lilly. “So, how about making me a hit with my staff?”

“I don’t know,” Lilly said, a bit uneasy. She’d never cooked for anyone outside the family before Adam.

“Go on, Lilly. Stick it to him,” Adam said with a laugh.

“For a pie like this, I’ll pay.”

“You really want me to bake you a pie?” Lilly asked, her eyes wide.

Jonathan leaned over to pull his wallet from his hip pocket. “I’ll pay you tonight if you’d like. How much?”

A bit embarrassed, she held up her hand as Jonathan opened his wallet. “Please. I don’t want any money.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive, but the ingredients will come from the kitch—”

“And are on the house,” Eleanor said, cutting Lilly off.

Jonathan shoved his wallet back in his pocket. “Then I can pick up the pie tomorrow night?”

Lilly glanced first at Adam, then at Eleanor. Both appeared to approve. “Will around six-thirty be all right?”

Jonathan grinned. “Isn’t that dinnertime?”

Everyone at the table laughed.

The next night Jonathan came for dinner, and when he left he had Lilly’s pie safely in a pie carrier. Adam had harassed him by saying that he planned to call his office the next day to see if the whole pie arrived. Jonathan had accepted the good-natured teasing with his usual smile.

Lilly watched the clock all Friday morning. She figured the potluck luncheon would probably start around eleven and go until one. What if they didn’t like her pie? Occasionally, even a favorite recipe failed.

When the phone in the kitchen rang a little after twelve, she sprang to pick up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Lilly, this is Jonathan.”

“They didn’t like my pie,” she said, feeling her stomach knot.

“
Like
is hardly the word.”

“Oh.” She slumped against the kitchen counter.

“They went crazy over it. Of course, then I had to admit I didn’t cook it.” He chuckled.

“They did?” She brightened immediately.

“They did. That’s the reason I called. Two other people in my office want to order a pie. So how much and when can you deliver them?”

“What?” Her spine straightened as she came away from the counter.

“How much and when can you deliver them?” he repeated, then shushed someone. “Excuse me; you probably heard them asking over my shoulder about this afternoon. I told them that’s too soon.”

“I’m not sure about a price,” Lilly finally managed.

“I realize this is sort of sudden. Think about it and call me back. The number is five-five-five five-five-five-four. Just tell the receptionist—who, incidentally, wants a pie—who you are and she’ll get me to the phone. Goodbye.”

“Good-bye.” Dazed, Lilly hung up the phone. Then, as the full impact of the call hit her, she went racing to Adam in the living room. He was playing another of those intricate melodies he loved, but he stopped when she was barely inside the room.

His dark head lifted and he turned toward her. “Lilly, what’s the matter?”

By now she was used to him recognizing her footsteps. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I need to ask you a question.”

Swinging all the way around on the piano bench, he said, “Shoot.”

Twisting her hands, she continued toward him until she was less than three feet in front of him. “Dr. Delacroix call—”

“I thought you agreed to call him Jonathan after dinner the other night?”

“I did, but I guess in the excitement I forgot,” she explained.

“I can hear it in your voice.”

Despite her quandary, she smiled. “You’re getting good at that.”

He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s up with Jonathan?”

“Two people in his office want to buy my pies and he wants to know how much I’d charge.”

“Congratulations. It seems you’re about to become an entrepreneur.”

“I don’t think it will come to that, but I don’t want to disappoint the people who work for Dr. De—Jonathan. But I have no idea how much to charge; besides, I have a job.”

Adam unfolded his arms and scooted over. “Come here, Lilly.”

She hesitated only a moment, then sat beside him.

“Thanks. I was getting a crick in my neck.”

“Sorry.”

“Take that word out of your vocabulary.”

He felt her tense beside him, then relax. “I’m trying.”

“Good.” He reached out. Automatically she placed her hand in his. “Take all the time you need. Thankfully, I’m becoming pretty self-sufficient, so you can make and deliver your pies whenever it’s convenient for you. Your car is running and Jonathan’s office isn’t that difficult to locate. As for price, gourmet pies can sell for as much as fifty to seventy-five dollars.”

“Fifty to seventy-five dollars!” she shrieked.

Adam chuckled. “Guess I shocked you. But invariably the more people pay for something, the more valuable they deem it.”

“But–but,” Lilly stammered. “I couldn’t charge that much. I’m not a gourmet cook.”

“By whose standards?” Adam asked, his thumb lazily stroking the back of her hand. “Exclusivity is another food selling point. Where else are they going to get an original dessert that has been handed down for four generations?”