Adam Then and Now

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Heat rose in her cheeks. “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Is it? People don’t always come packaged just like we want, Loren. Life hardly ever turns out the way you expect it to, either. I thought your mother and I would live to a ripe old age together.”

  Loren’s throat constricted. “I wish you had.”

  “So do I. But even if somebody had told me when I married Fran that I’d lose her to cancer before we reached sixty, I’d still have married her, and been happy for the chance.”

  Loren put down the film canisters so she could reach over the seat and hug him. Then she drew back and gave him a teary smile. “You’re terrific, you know that?”

  “Sure.” Her father patted her arm. “Give him a chance to say his piece. Then listen to your heart.”

  Her reply was husky with emotion. “Okay.”

  He opened the door, then turned to her. “I agree Daphne’s a handful.” He winked. “But so were you.” Then he climbed from the plane.

  Digesting that last thought, Loren jumped down onto the steamy tarmac, hauled out the canisters and shut the cabin door.

  A plane revved its engine nearby as she walked into the hangar, so Adam, who had his back to the doorway, didn’t hear her come in. He was talking to Josh.

  Loren pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and stood listening while she tried to subdue the rush of welcome she felt at the sight of Adam.

  “So you’re really going in?” Adam asked.

  Josh nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve already contacted a recruiter,” Josh said, “and he says to get my degree at MIT, then enlist as an officer.” His gaze swerved to his mother.

  She gave him an uncertain smile before putting the film canisters on the workbench.

  “Mom still doesn’t like the idea much, but she’s not going to disown me, or anything,” Josh said. “So what branch do you recommend? I was thinking marines, but”

  “Josh,” Walt said, coming over to put his arm around his grandson, “I think Adam has some business with your mother, and now that she’s here, maybe we should let them take care of it.”

  “Oh, sure. Sure thing.”

  Adam turned, and Loren gasped. He had two black eyes. That, along with the white bandage on his nose, made him look like a creature from a nightmare.

  “Pretty grisly, huh?” He smiled, which looked grotesque combined with the battered upper half of his face. “But you should see the other guy.”

  Loren shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about the other guy.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you do. Look, I’m not the most attractive of dinner partners at the moment, but I would like to talk to you. Are you free?”

  Loren nodded, then glanced down at her khaki shorts and blue tank top. “Although I’m not dressed for anything fancy.”

  “That wasn’t what I had in mind, anyway.”

  “Good.” Candlelight and wine would remind her of their last dinner together, when she’d spent the meal trying to think of how to get the prints and negatives away from him. She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. “Let’s go.”

  Outside the hangar Adam glanced up at the clouds. “I hope it doesn’t rain.”

  “Usually does this time of year.” She couldn’t believe they were discussing the weather.

  “Yeah, I know.” He opened the passenger door of his car for her. “If the seat’s not comfortable, you can adjust it using those buttons on the door.”

  The honey-colored leather felt cool against her bare legs. After buckling herself in, she experimentally punched a button, and the front of the seat tilted up an inch or so. She moved it back down. Soon she’d punched all the buttons and tested every position the seat offered. After deciding on a gently reclining mode, it occurred to her that they weren’t moving yet. She glanced over at Adam and found him watching her with a smile on his face.

  “So I’m easily impressed,” she said.

  “I sure hope so.” After putting the car in gear, he pushed a button on the dash and Roberta Flack began to sing “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.”

  Loren fumbled with her control panel until she brought her seat bolt upright. “How do I shut that off?” she asked, reaching for the dash.

  “I thought you liked that song.”

  “Not anymore.” She felt her sense of control slipping away.

  “Well, I do. And it’s my car.”

  She resorted to being a smart aleck in order to counter the effect of the heartrending song. “Is that how you’re going to be? Pushy?”

  Adam’s mouth quirked. “Maybe.”

  She estimated their speed at less than ten miles an hour as they cruised slowly past the hangars to the entrance gate. “Because if you’re going to be pushy, I’m getting out.”

  Adam touched a button on his door and she heard the click of locks.

  “Hey!” She pulled up on her door handle and nothing happened. She pushed every available button and the door was still locked. “You can’t do this.”

  He remained serene. “Last time you disapproved of my behavior, you wouldn’t listen to my explanation, either. This time I’m determined that you will.”

  “That’s not fair.” Her voice was beginning to betray her.

  “A lot of things in life aren’t fair, Loren. Sometimes even you aren’t fair.”

  “You’ve locked me in here to insult me?”

  “No, to tell you once and for all why you love me.”

  That rendered her speechless. Finally, she managed a faint comeback. “Who says I do?”

  “I say so. The lovee.”

  She laughed. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help it. Then, as the tender words of Roberta Flack’s song filled the car, her throat closed with emotion. She certainly did love him, had loved him from the first time ever she saw his face, just as the song said.

  “You love me because I’ll fight for what I believe in,” Adam said, glancing at her. “And so will you.”

  She cleared her throat. “Oh, you’ll fight, all right. Look at you.”

  “I may have black eyes, but you could have been shot. I got a call today that confirmed the existence of sharpshooters at the scene last night. I guess Haskett is spilling his guts, hoping the police can keep him alive.”

  “He almost spilled yours all over the bottom of that dam. When Walt brought the helicopter in close and I saw you hanging over that edge...” She couldn’t go on.

  “I know.” He reached over and squeezed her knee. The casual touch electrified her. “But I had to go after him, just like I had to go to Vietnam. Somebody has to stand up to the bullies in this world, Lor.”

  “But does it always have to be you?”

  He sighed. “Yeah, I’m afraid so.”

  “It’s so hard on me!”

  “That’s what you get for loving me. You can’t have it both ways, which is what I meant when I said you were sometimes unfair.” He glanced at her. “You admire me for the kind of person I am, but you don’t want to face the consequences of my being that kind of person. I’ll take risks to do what’s right. It’s as simple as that. Deal with it, Loren.”

  She gasped. “And what if I don’t want to?”

  He looked at the gas gauge. “I’d estimate about five hours of driving time left. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

  “You’re bluffing. There’s no way you’d keep me locked in this car for five hours.”

  He turned right and started through town. “I don’t know if I’m bluffing or not. Until this moment, it never occurred to me you wouldn’t immediately see the logic of my argument.”

  She sat quietly as he maneuvered the car through the press of tourist traffic. He was appealing to her intelligence and sense of fairness. Good techniques, she acknowledged grudgingly. “Are we driving anyplace in particular?”

  “That depends.”

  “Okay, maybe I do see the logic of your argument,” she admitted finally. “I don’t like it, but I see it. Now what?”

 
; “I guess you have to decide if you can live with me, knowing my habit of sacrificing myself to the cause, or if you’d rather not be around that kind of behavior.”

  She turned to him, heart pounding. “Did you say live with you?”

  “As in husband and wife. We’ve wasted twenty-three years. I’m not much interested in a long courtship.”

  “You must be out of your mind! Even if I thought it over and decided I could accept your tendency to sacrifice yourself to a noble cause, which I’m not saying I’ve done, what about Daphne?”

  “We’ll talk about Daphne.” He inched past the rows of cars and pedestrians at Slide Rock. “This tourist crush is definitely out of hand. I can’t believe there are so many people around.”

  “Welcome to summer in Sedona.”

  He grimaced. “I may have to revise my plan.”

  “Which is?”

  He didn’t answer, but not far up the road he pulled over, easing the Mercedes between a minivan and a pickup truck. He released the locks and opened his door. “Let’s at least see what the situation looks like.” He climbed out.

  Loren’s stomach churned, as she, too, exited the car. This had been their favorite spot, the spot where they’d planned to make love. Except it was July now, not May, and twenty-three years later, when thousands more tourists had discovered Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon.

  She met him back by the trunk, knowing he’d have a blanket and picnic basket in there. He did.

  He handed her the blanket and hefted the picnic basket with a wry grin. “I guess this isn’t more public than any of the restaurants would be.”

  “That’s true.” Taking a deep breath, she followed him down the rocky path to the creek. The shouts and squeals of children playing nearly drowned out the music of the water. The scent of grilled hamburger overpowered the fragrance of wildflowers. And yet...she responded to the feel of the path beneath her feet with the dizzy excitement she’d had at eighteen.

  She’d never returned to this exact spot, so the old associations weren’t overlaid with new. Perhaps it was the Roberta Flack song. Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion from the events of the past few days. But it seemed as if she’d been here only yesterday, as if she and Adam had returned to that heady time when life swelled with promise.

  They paused at the edge of the creek and looked across. The moss had been worn away from the clearing beside the creek where they used to spread their blanket, rubbed clean by countless others who’d spread blankets there, too. The cottonwood shading their spot was much larger now, its dappled trunk too big to circle with both arms.

  A family occupied a picnic table several yards downstream, and to the right a couple of boys were splashing in the water, but Adam and Loren’s special place was empty. They could have their picnic, but it wouldn’t be secluded.

  Adam shrugged. “Oh, well, what the heck. We’re here. Let’s do it.”

  A row of boulders created stepping stones across the water. On graduation night, Adam had carried her across those boulders to preserve her white dress. She didn’t think he’d try it today. The summer rains had raised the water level, shellacking the boulders with a thin film of moisture, just enough to make them treacherous.

  Adam balanced on the first one and crossed to the second, where he turned back and held out his hand. She placed hers within it and felt a current of excitement surge through her at his touch. She balanced on the first rock and stepped to the second while he moved on to the third.

  But when she reached the third, she slipped. Grabbing his arm, she pulled them both off balance and they splashed into knee-deep water cold as ice.

  “Yeow!” Adam juggled the picnic basket as he staggered in the cold water.

  “I’m sorry!” She clutched the picnic blanket. A corner had dipped into the water, but she’d managed to keep the rest of it dry. “I’m a little out of practice for this, I guess.”

  “You mean you don’t come here?” He glanced over his shoulder at her.

  “No. Never.”

  “Why not?”

  She waved him forward. “Come on, Adam. Let’s get out of the darned water, okay?”

  “I’m just starting to get used to it.” He steadied the picnic basket on his shoulder and offered her his hand again.

  They sloshed to the opposite bank and climbed out. Adam’s jeans were soaked to his thighs. Only the hem of Loren’s shorts got wet, but her shoes squished with each step.

  Adam set the picnic basket in a cradle created by exposed tree roots. “Let’s spread the blanket.”

  She tossed him a corner and they opened the blanket. As they started to lay it on the ground, her gaze met his.

  “So why don’t you ever come here?” he asked.

  “Because.”

  “Because this is our place?”

  “Yes. Are you satisfied now?”

  “Not by a long shot. But it’s a start.” He smoothed a wrinkle from the blanket, stood erect and glanced around. “Just like in the old days, isn’t it?”

  “Except for your two black eyes and broken nose.”

  “Actually, I did have a broken nose before, from the time that guy from Holbrook tackled me on the five-yard line and my helmet came off.” He pulled off his shoes.

  “So you did,” she agreed, following suit. “Then nothing’s changed, after all.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Twenty-three years ago, I wouldn’t have had the nerve to do this.” He unbuttoned his jeans and peeled them off.

  “Adam!” She tried not to stare at his muscled thighs and the glimpse of navy briefs beneath his shirttail.

  He grinned at her as he tossed the jeans on a rock. “So what? There’s almost no difference between these and bathing trunks, and I’m not going to eat in soggy jeans.”

  She lowered her voice. “I think that was a deliberate effort to...to...”

  He laughed. “Set the mood? It’s not a bad idea, but you pulled me into the water, so I can’t claim credit. But if it works, so much the better.”

  “Don’t count on it. Not with all these people surrounding us.”

  “Too bad. Then we might as well eat.” He retrieved the basket and opened it. To her surprise, the basket disguised a small, insulated cooler.

  She sat on the blanket while he unpacked a bottle of wine, glasses and containers of fried chicken, potato salad and chunks of raw vegetables. “I don’t remember anything like this when we were in high school.”

  He extracted the cork from the wine and poured her a glass. “I told you some things had changed,” he said as he handed it to her. After pouring wine into the second glass, he recorked the bottle and raised his glass in her direction. “To my future wife.”

  Her stomach clenched. “Adam, there’s”

  “Okay.” He sipped the wine and placed it beside the blanket on a flat rock. “We’ll eat first and then talk. How’s that?” He dug out plates and began filling one from the three containers.

  “I just think”

  “You’re not going to turn down chicken I fried just for you, are you?”

  ”You fried this?”

  “Technically, no.” He handed her a plate and a linen napkin. “But I stood there the whole time it was being fried at this little take-out place I know, and I told them to make it extra-crispy because I remembered you like it that way. So I think that counts.”

  She had to admit everything smelled wonderful. And if they didn’t have all these insurmountable problems, she might have been able to relax and have fun. She’d forgotten how easily she and Adam could do that. But there was a word for not facing reality. It was denial, and Adam seemed to be deeply into it this evening.

  “We will talk about Daphne, right?” she prompted.

  He finished filling his own plate and closed the cooler. “Yes, we will. Now eat.”

  She did, and everything tasted better than any food she’d had since...their steak dinner in Laughlin. While she ate, she thought about how he’d remembered she liked crispy chicken. H
e could still pick out the exact spot where they’d almost made love. For nearly twenty years he’d been looking at her picture of Red Rock Crossing. The evidence of his devotion seemed endless. She’d talked to enough women about the men in their lives, and she knew this level of caring didn’t come along every day. Some people would call her crazy for turning aside a chance like this. Her father would, for certain.

  When she was nearly finished with the meal, he took another linen napkin and walked over to the creek. She watched him, remembering how good those hair-sprinkled thighs felt against her skin.

  He returned with the dampened napkin and held it out to her.

  She took it and wiped her hands. “Thank you. Thoughtful service around here.” She handed the napkin back.

  “You missed a spot.” He squatted next to her and touched the cool napkin to the corner of her mouth.

  She made the mistake of looking into his eyes. And this time she didn’t see the bruises around them, or the bandage on his nose. She saw only the fire blazing in the blue depths.

  He wiped the other corner of her mouth tenderly, and her lips parted as she gazed up at him. He stroked her lip with his forefinger, and with a quick movement she caught his finger between her teeth.

  “Still hungry?” he murmured.

  With a soft moan, she released him and looked away.

  “So am I. I booked a room. Maybe we should”

  She glanced at him. “No. You said we would talk. Let’s talk.”

  His gaze roamed her face. “Okay.” He moved the basket over to the exposed tree roots and sat beside her.

  “The subject is Daphne,” Loren said.

  “Indeed it is.” To his credit, he didn’t evade the issue.

  “She hates me,” Loren said. “And considering Anita may go to jail, you’re all she’s got. You can’t desert her to marry me.” A raindrop fell with a soft plop on the blanket beside her. Appropriate, she thought. The sky was crying.

  Adam took her hand and held it, tracing the lines in her palm. “I wouldn’t desert her. She’d have to leave me, leave us, if that was her choice.”

  “And she might, Adam. You can’t take that chance with her right now.”

  “Oh, yes, I can.” He closed her hand into a fist and brought it to his mouth, where he kissed her knuckles. “I’m a risk taker, remember? And so are you. Otherwise you wouldn’t have helped me rescue those kids. We’re both go-for-broke people and now’s not the time to stop. Besides, I have some new insights about Daphne.”