The Winding Road Home (8 page)

On a record-breaking cold Saturday morning when she could have stayed home relishing in long uninterrupted hours of playing with clay, Adele drove down the county highway. The north wind howled across barren fields on her right, dusting the blacktop with snow, rattling her car, lengthening the trip by seven minutes. At last she pulled into Fox Meadow's parking lot, continuing the dialogue begun at four-thirty that morning.

I have a legitimate reason for being here.

On normal weekends she didn't go in to work, but there were often situations that required her attention.

In her opinion anyway.

All right. So she was a little too hands-on for some people. What did it hurt? She loved Fox Meadow as if it were her own home and loved every facet of caring for the residents. What did it matter that her job description did not specifically prescribe that she give tours, do the necessary paperwork with relatives, welcome newcomers at the door, change linens, or show up on Saturdays? Or tuck in the new guy and have dinner with his close friend?

“Oh my.”

She left the car and walked across the lot, holding her hood tight against the icy wind.

There were official reasons for her creative schedule. She had no assistant and only a part-time secretary. The center was short-funded and understaffed, which meant sacrificing those special TLC touches. Adele refused to let that happen. They were what made Fox Meadow a special place. She jumped in, running herself ragged at times, turning reports in late, not returning phone calls in a timely manner.

Then there was Chelsea's growing independence. Her daughter was smart and artistic. She would easily receive grants and scholarships and in 18 months head off to college. Adele's stomach hurt when she thought about that fact, but she had long ago vowed to never lay a guilt trip on her daughter. Their relationship was not going to resemble the unhealthy one she'd had with her parents.

“Adele!”

She looked up to find herself standing in the middle of the lobby facing Gracie, the weekend supervisor, whose demeanor didn't begin to approach the promise of her name. Another reason for Adele's creative schedule.

As usual, Gracie's hands were planted on her ample hips and her gray-streaked black hair was pulled back severely in a bun. “Except for Mrs. Cantrell's nonstop jabbering, there's no wind blowing in here.”

“Huh?”

“You're standing there all bundled up with your hood on.”

“Oh. I am!” She chuckled, pushing back the hood and fluffing her hair. “How did Mr. Jennings do last night?”

“Fine, far as I know. Friendly buzzard, isn't he? He made it to the dining room for breakfast.”

“Great.”

They chatted about business for a few minutes and parted ways. After tossing her coat on a chair in her office, Adele headed out to make the social rounds. Saturday was a good day to touch base with a large group of residents and their visiting relatives. Room 212 seemed as good a place to start as any.

Rand Jennings was sitting in the armchair and looking out the window. Black slacks, a bright yellow cardigan, and a plaid shirt hung loosely over his gaunt form. She was glad not to see him in pajamas. It meant the pain was still tolerable…there was still a reason to get up in the morning.

She knocked on the open door. “Mr. Jennings?”

He turned his head and smiled. “Adele! Good morning. You look especially lovely today. Have a seat.”

She dragged a straight-backed chair nearer to him and sat in it. “How are you doing? Did you sleep all right?”

“I slept like a baby.” He smiled, his dark eyes nearly squinting closed behind the thick bifocals. “It's a comfortable place you have here.”

“Thank you.”

“How'd you get to be director?”

“Hey, I came to talk about you.”

“No, you didn't. You came to make me feel better. I'll feel better if I don't talk about me. It's getting to be an overdone subject. Now, how did you end up here?”

“Well, I started out as a nurse's aide.”

“Baths and bedpans?”

“You got it. And I fell in love with the place! I spent any time I could spare here, learning all I could about nursing. But I found out I wasn't as interested in the medical side of things as in the people themselves. I went to school part-time and eventually got a degree in sociology. In the meantime, I became receptionist, then file clerk, then assistant to the director. I learned about administration, the ins and outs of insurance, and state aid and social work.”

“And dying.”

She stared at him.

“You must have.”

She nodded. It had been the hardest part. Still was.

“Your Fox Meadow is more than likely the last stop for all of us. The only thing that matters is that we're ready. If it weren't for Jesus, I know I wouldn't be ready. I met Him about two years ago. It's been a crash course, making up for lost time and getting to know Him better. How about you? Have you met Him?”

She smiled, thinking about how Graham considered
her
direct. “Almost seventeen years ago, since the moment I saw my newborn baby's face.”

He raised his arm slightly, haltingly, as if to reach out to her. The pain would be too sharp. Graham told her the cancer was in his spine. Adele covered his hand with her own.

He smiled. “You're a believer. I hoped you were. My wife was, but I wouldn't listen. Graham never gave up on me, though. Thank the good Lord. Do you go to a church in your town?”

“Valley Oaks Community. Though sometimes I come here. We have a service at nine. Friends and relatives are welcome to attend.”

“Which one are you going to tomorrow? So I can tell Graham.” His laugh was rough-sounding.

Adele stared at him, unsure how to respond.

“Don't mind me. I'm a meddler. Always have been. Thing is, he's been lonely for a long time.” His voice was growing raspier, but still he talked. “Tell me about that baby.”

Safer ground. Her turtleneck was beginning to feel tight at the throat. “Um, her name is Chelsea. She'll be seventeen in three months. She looks an awful lot like me. Do you want to lie down?”

“No. But maybe I will. Morning nap time for this baby.”

She helped him onto the bed and covered him with a soft afghan that had been folded neatly at its foot. It wasn't Fox Meadow issue. They must have brought it from home. For a couple of men, they seemed to have taken good care of the homey details. She noticed a plant on the chest of drawers and an eight-by-ten framed photo of an ocean sunrise hanging on the wall. A shiny new television with built-in VCR.

“Shall I close the blinds, Mr. Jennings?”

“No, thank you. But you could call me Rand.” He smiled.

“You got it, Rand. Sleep tight.”

Adele walked down the hall, pulling at the neck of her sweater.

She had known Graham was a believer. She had known he was kind and thoughtful and funny. He had apologized for being rude, paid for her dinner, and made her laugh, all in one day. And he could eat an all-vegetable meal and drink her herbal tea without a hint of complaint. He had great hair, but if it all fell out he would still have that intriguing cleft in his chin.

She had known all of that.

Now she knew he was a devoted friend, evidenced by the good care he took of Rand. By how he hadn't given up on him. By how he rearranged his work and living situations in order to be near him. By the attention to detail in a drab nursing home room.

And now she also knew that he was lonely.

She had no idea any such man walked the face of the earth. Not that she was looking. She wasn't, was she? She hadn't been for 17 years. No reason to start now.

Was there?

Graham entered Rand's room Saturday afternoon and found him sitting up in bed, the afghan tucked around his legs, the television tuned to a basketball game.

“Hi,
Pops.”

“They don't have cable.”

He set down his briefcase and sat on the edge of the bed. No need to remind Rand they knew before the move that Fox Meadow was low-rent district. Hence, no cable. “I'll get some video tapes of your favorite preachers.”

“That would be nice.” Rand closed his eyes, his pale, skeletal hand clutching the blanket. “Sorry for grumbling.”

“When did you take your pill?”

“Thirty minutes late.”

Graham's blood did a slow boil. Low rent didn't have to mean shoddy. They had to stay on top of the pain or somebody would have to answer to him.

“She
came in.” A smile tugged at his mouth.

“Hmm.”

“She is a lovely young woman, isn't she?”

“She is.” But if she couldn't get the morphine distributed on time, her dimpled smile wasn't going to help.

“Her church is Valley Oaks Community. I don't know the time.”

“So you think I should go to the same service, do you?”

Rand didn't respond.

Panic clutched at Graham's chest and he leaned forward. Was Rand asleep? He detected his shallow breathing. Graham's own evened out again.

Lord, please don't take him too soon.

Ridiculous prayer. God would accomplish what needed to be accomplished. Time meant nothing to Him.

He eased himself gently from the bed and sat in the armchair. He pulled the
Valley Oaks Times
from his briefcase and opened it in search of a local listing of church services.

He wasn't so sure about Rand's hopes that he and Adele would become close friends as quickly as possible.
Pops
said it would make him happy to be able to leave this world knowing that someone near would offer comfort.

The trouble was, Rand didn't know just how lovely she was. Nor just exactly how available she was, despite that photo of the guy on her desk. Nor had he taken into account exactly how vulnerable Graham was, something Graham himself hadn't even known until last night.

The problem was, he and Adele had blown right on past close friendship status by the time the pizza was gone. By the time they finished the tea, the air between them crackled.

And that simply was not going to work.

Kate munched a glazed donut and sipped coffee as she stood at what she considered a discreet distance, but she still overheard every word exchanged between Adele and Graham, Mr. Toe Curler.

After a short wrestling match with her conscience, she concluded it couldn't be all that private of a conversation. It was Sunday morning, between services. Graham had been to the early one; they had just arrived for the second. They stood in the church foyer, a short distance to the left of the exterior doorway, not far from a table loaded with boxes of donuts enticing most passersby to linger. The aroma of coffee permeated the area, which was large and sprawling. It easily accommodated the chatty, milling crowd which probably numbered around 200. Evidently, therefore, the conversation was not all that private.

And besides, she needed to keep an eye open for Tanner's arrival. Near the front windows was the best spot. If she weren't there at the critical moment of his arrival, he might use it as an excuse to back out of his first visit.

And besides that, she truly was a snoop.

“Adele, I was there until
four
this morning.” Graham had already relayed this information, but then he didn't appear in tip-top shape today.

The man was big, not like a beefy football player, but rather in an understated sort of way. A sport coat over sweater and corduroys made him presentable, though his height and breadth suggested that the clothes obscured a powerful strength. Which, according to the expression on his face, was scarcely being held in check at the moment. His five o'clock shadow had grown into next-day stubble. His eyes were mere slits, his mouth a grim line.

Adele placed her hand on his forearm in a soothing gesture. It matched her tone, which had remained even throughout the exchange. “I'll go in right now and get to the bottom of this.”

“No. I'm on my way there. Stay for church. It's a good sermon.” There was a distinct note of calm in his voice now. “Good music too.”

Adele smiled.

Kate knew she had stumbled upon another bit of Valley Oaks magic: Adele Chandler's touch.

Graham almost returned the smile. “Isn't this your day off?”

“I'm always on call.”

“We'll be fine today. I had planned to spend the day with him anyway. I'll make sure he gets his medication on time. Sorry, Adele, I guess I needed to vent.
Again.
Despite the fact I just came out of church. Guess you walked in at the wrong time.”

“No, it was the right time. I'm the one to vent to since I'm the one responsible. I wish you would have called me last night. Please don't hesitate in the future. Okay?” She removed her hand.

“Okay. I appreciate it. I'll probably see you tomorrow?”

“I imagine so. Bye.”

“Bye.” He nodded at Kate and left.

Adele, still bundled in her winter coat, her back to the crowd, tapped a foot. Emotions flitted across her face, wrinkling her brow, now smoothing it, setting her jaw, now loosening it. At last it all settled into a scrunched frown.

“Kate, may I borrow your cell phone?”

“Sure.” She dug it out of her bag, turned the power button on, and handed it over.

Adele punched in a number and muttered, “You know, if he just would have gone home last night and cried like a baby, he'd feel a whole lot better. Hello!” Although her voice remained low, it took on a harsh edge. “This is Adele. Get Gracie for me. Please.”

Evidently on hold, Adele looked at Kate. “This will only take a minute. It has to be taken care of right now. I'll pay you for—Gracie!”

Kate watched as the easygoing, artistic woman she was beginning to know switched places with a dragon lady.

“What happened yesterday with Mr. Jennings?” Now Adele's mouth was the grim line. “Mr. Logan was upset and referred to Fox Meadow as a one-horse operation. We're looking like one. Why was the medication administered late
two
times?”

Her foot was tapping again. One hand was propped on a hip.

“Tell her she is skating on thin ice. She will be fired if this happens again. And I want you to get the doctor there today…I don't care what day it is. This is his job. Mr. Jennings probably needs his dosage increased…Yes…All right. Call me at home later. Thanks, Gracie.” She handed the phone to Kate. “Thanks.”

“Whew. Guess that's why you're the director.”

Adele shook her head. “No, that's why I shouldn't get distracted by good-looking friends of the family.” She blew out a breath. “Okay. I'd better go sing and try to remember how to be nice.” She clanked her teeth together in a forced grin and walked away.

No two ways about it, the woman was in denial.

Kate and Tanner sat on a padded pew along a side aisle in the church sanctuary. Naturally, because he had arrived late, they weren't far from the pulpit.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled inwardly. Hunched over, arms crossed on knees, eyes glued on the pastor, he appeared deep in thought. Kate hoped so. Fun and carefree as Tanner behaved, she sensed that something disturbing lay at the root of his casual meandering through life. Something that only divine intervention could heal.

He had called her early in the morning, inviting her to explore the video store. The real estate agent was scheduled to meet him there at one-thirty. Tanner said he could use a female's opinion on the task before him.

She found it interesting that he noticed she was a female. Their rapport was so in tune, it was as if gender didn't even play a role. They were friends, buds, pals, chums, amigos. In the short time since they'd met, they had “hung” together as though they'd been doing it for years.

Given Chelsea's strong opinion of his looks—since verified by a boatload of girl basketball players and their mothers— Kate knew the guy must have a string of gorgeous women waiting with bated breath for such an invitation. Women who paid close attention to style and lipstick application.

She accepted his offer, with a caveat. It was her turn to introduce him to a Valley Oaks niche that positively overflowed with that special magic.

“Hey,” he had said,
“I'm
the expert.”

“Do you know about VOCC?”

“What's that?”

“The Community Church.”

Silence.

“Yeah, I didn't think so. Meet me there at the front door, ten-twenty. It'll be good for business.”

“If I don't show, does that mean you don't show?”

“That's the deal.”

“Some friend you're turning out to be. All right. Ten-twenty.”

The challenge had worked.

She looked at him again now, noting his rapt attention. Though she had only heard Pastor Peter twice, she sensed he was typically engrossing. Redheaded, Chicago-accented, burly, and streetwise, he captured the essence of Scripture in laymen's terms without masking the unexplicable of the holy.

A guy's guy. Someone Tanner could relate to.

Thank You, Father.

Tanner peered over Kate's shoulder at the bubbling pot of chili she stirred. She had invited him for lunch after church. Because the Chandlers were going to Rockville, she was in charge of the kitchen.

“Mmm,” he said, “I smell meat.”

She laughed. “You know me. Of course you smell meat. Adele is great. She doesn't mind what I do in her kitchen. Though I think I caught her shuddering last night. I was cooking up a storm of meat dishes. Chelsea will be absolutely
devastated
when she hears Mr. Carlucci ate lunch at her house. She won't want me to wash your spoon.”

“Kate, don't tell me that stuff. I'll give up teaching and coaching altogether.”

“Oh, Tanner.” She ladled the thick chili into bowls. “I hope you're just hungry. You're not much fun to tease at the moment.”

She handed him a bowl, and then they sat down at the kitchen table. As usual in the energetic way she did everything, she bowed her head briefly before taking a bite. If he didn't watch closely, he would miss it.

Yes, he was hungry. But…he was also on edge.

“So what did you think of church?”

He swallowed his first mouthful of the best chili he'd ever tasted. “Kate! This is fantastic!”

She grinned. “Thanks.”

“Where'd you learn to cook?”

“Cookbooks. When I was twenty-two, my mom got sick. I think I told you she had breast cancer. Anyway, I'm the oldest of four. I'm ten years older than Patrick, twelve years older than Jimmy, and nineteen years older than Sara. They were so young and needed a lot of attention. And since Dad worked, I was in charge at home.”

Tanner did the math. “Did she have surgery and go through all the treatments? A year out of her life?”

“Mm-hmm. All told, it was about an eighteen-month detour.”

“Is that why you didn't finish college?”

She nodded, no bitterness evident in her demeanor. “It was obviously the thing to do. We could have hired people, but this was my
mom
we're talking about. And my little
siblings
. I didn't want anyone else cooking or cleaning for them, or helping with their homework, or nursing my mom. College just got postponed again.”

“Again?”

Watching her talk was more entertaining than flying a plane. He had never seen such an animated person. Those green eyes darted here and there. Her forefinger periodically shoved the glasses up her nose. Numerous strands of her shiny red hair had fallen out of a single braid. She must have spent two minutes on today's hairdo rather than one.

She swallowed a mouthful and nodded. “Again. I didn't go to college right after high school. Well, I went, but only for three days. My dad was transferred to Paris. He works for the government. When he called with the news that they were leaving right after Christmas, I quit. No way was I going to pass up a family junket to Europe!”

Her whole family must be quirky. Considering his own parents and siblings, he couldn't imagine a reason he would go with them to Paris or anywhere for an extended period of time, especially after the age of 18.

“We spent over a year there, then I did a semester at Rockville Junior College. A bout with mononucleosis delayed my start at Iowa. I got in one semester before Mom was diagnosed.”

“What happened after she got better?”

“By then, all the scholarships and loans were muddled. And with medical bills, money was tight. I worked full time and went to school part time for a few years. Gradually I've worked less and gone to class more. Only two months now and I graduate. Yay!”

“Your life sounds like a series of delays.”

“It has been, though I never doubted that God had it all planned out. I trust His timing is the best for me.” She stopped. “All right. Confession. I am doubting His choice of internship locations. I wouldn't have missed those family times or my jobs and school experiences for anything. Good things have come from it all. Things that never would have come about if I'd stuck with my own agenda. So I'm trying to be quiet on the subject of this…location.”

“You? Quiet?” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock alarm. “That must be the hardest thing you've ever done.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “You didn't answer my question. What'd you think of church?”

“It was a nice brick building.”

“Ha ha.” She picked up their empty bowls and refilled them. “Anyway, I'm glad you came.”

“It reminded me of my AA meetings.”

“Really?” Kate set his bowl in front of him and sat down again. “How's that?”

She hadn't missed a beat. He should have known. Kate Kilpatrick would not use the information against him, nor would she shrink from it.

He smiled. “The guy up front talked about heavy issues. And he talked about a higher power.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. I always figured He had a name. Did I mention this is the best chili I've ever eaten?”