A Home for Adam

by Gina Ferris Wilkins

  “My parents were both in their early forties when I was born,” she began. “They’d been married for years and had finally decided they wouldn’t be having children. And then I showed up.”

  “They should have been delighted.”

  “I don’t think they were. They’d both resigned themselves to being childless, and I think they rather resented having their schedules so terribly disrupted. Both of them are a bit obsessive about schedules, I’m afraid. Dad’s a preacher—the old hellfire-and-brimstone type, you’d probably call him. He’s always been involved with small, poor churches that could hardly afford to keep him on, which is why he supplemented the family income with rental property.

  “Mother is a retired librarian. It’s almost as though she tried to fit the stereotype. She worships order, quiet and tidiness. None of which are typical of toddlers, obviously. And I was a handful—stubborn, noisy, curious, restless. Neither of my parents quite knew what to do with me.”

  “So what did they do with you?” Adam asked, watching her intently.

  She shrugged. “They tried their best to tame me. And they succeeded, eventually. At least outwardly. I tried very hard to conform to their standards, to be the restrained, proper lady they’d raised me to be. I was so eager to please them that I didn’t outwardly rebel until my early twenties, when I met a man my father didn’t approve of. I don’t know, maybe that’s why I was attracted to Tommy in the first place.”

  “Tommy?” Adam repeated with a frown.

  She nodded. “He had a ponytail and an earring. My father nearly had a heart attack on the spot when I introduced them. Tommy wasn’t really a bad sort. We just didn’t have much in common after the initial attraction wore off. Dad couldn’t resist pointing out that he’d predicted a bad ending to the relationship, and I got mad and decided to finally break away. That was when I moved to Dallas.”

  “And met Carl,” Adam said glumly.

  “Well, not right away. I found and lost a few jobs—my career training had been sketchy, to say the least, since Dad doesn’t believe in women having careers. He only tolerated Mother’s work because they so badly needed the money.

  “Anyway,” she continued doggedly, “I met Carl almost two years ago when I started working for the company where he was a supervisor. I had just begun to patch things up with my parents, who’d finally accepted that I wasn’t going to move back home and let them watch out for me.

  “Then, just over a year ago, my father showed up unexpectedly at my apartment one evening and met Carl. He hated him on the spot. The feeling was mutual. I accused Dad of not giving Carl a chance, of disapproving because he was divorced and rather liberal thinking. I told him that I was an adult and he had no business trying to run my life. We ended up yelling at each other—again. Dad left my apartment in a rage, and I haven’t spoken with him since.”

  “And your mother?” Adam asked, trying to keep his reactions to her tale out of his voice.

  “I called her a week later. She told me I should have listened to my father, and that she would be willing to talk to me when I was ready to apologize to him. I hung up on her.”

  “And you haven’t called back.”

  She shook her head, her own face expressionless. “A few months later, Carl had dumped me and I found out I was expecting a baby without benefit of marriage. Do you really think I would call them under those conditions? Can you imagine what they would have said?”

  Adam could see why Jenny had been so resistant to his well-meant advice. She would have resisted anyone she saw as taking over her life the way her father had tried to do. She couldn’t have known how different he was from the man she’d described—at least, not initially. She certainly should know better now.

  “You should call them, Jenny. Give them another chance. They might surprise you.” He tried to make it sound like a suggestion, rather than a directive, though it wasn’t easy for him.

  He was much more accustomed to giving orders and having them followed with little question.

  She shook her head, so hard her curls bounced around her face. “No.”

  “Why not? They haven’t talked to their only daughter in over a year. They probably bitterly regret the rift between you. I’d bet they’ve been praying for a call from you.”

  “To tell them I’ve had an illegitimate child? I hardly think so.”

  Adam scowled. He didn’t like the term she’d used to describe the baby he’d come to love, technically correct though it might be. “I’m sure they would soon grow to love Melissa,” he argued. “She’s their only grandchild. They’d be crazy not to want to know her.”

  “I would be crazy to call them and open myself up to their abuse again,” Jenny retorted obstinately. “I won’t do it, Adam, and I don’t want you badgering me about it.”

  “But—”

  “I mean it, Adam. I’ve told you the whole ugly story, but now the subject is closed. Permanently. Okay?”

  “Jenny—”

  “Okay?” she repeated, a tenacious spark in her eyes.

  He sighed. “Whatever you say.”

  He would drop the subject for now, he assured himself. But that didn’t mean it was permanently closed. Jenny would never be able to plan for her future until she’d made peace with her past. And if he had to insist that she face that past—well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

  She would understand, and forgive him, once she realized that he was only acting in her own best interest. Hers, and her daughter’s, he added self-righteously.

  As though in response to his thoughts, Melissa began to squirm and fret in her seat, gumming her fist to indicate that it was time for her own dinner.

  Jenny excused herself. “I’ll take care of the dishes later,” she added, reaching for her baby.

  “You take care of Melissa,” Adam told her. “I’ll get the dishes tonight.”

  “That’s my job, Adam.”

  “Don’t argue with me about this, Jenny,” he said wearily. “I really don’t want another argument with you tonight.”

  She lapsed into silence and carried Melissa away.

  Adam could feel the resentment lingering behind her, and he suspected she was still irked with him for insisting that she tell him more than she’d wanted him to know about her family problems.

  He dismissed that possibility with a wave of his hand. She’d soon realize that it had been necessary for him to know the whole story, he assured himself. After all, he couldn’t even begin to work on a solution until he’d understood the problem.

  And now he thought he understood.

  He reached for the dirty dishes, his analytical mind already creating and studying different approaches to healing Jenny’s heartache over her estranged family.

  * * *

  Jenny was in the den, rocking the now-fed baby to sleep when Adam rejoined her, leaving a spotless kitchen behind him.

  She looked up when he entered. “You mentioned that her eyes are a darker brown than mine,” she said.

  He remembered. “Yes.”

  “She has my mother’s eyes,” Jenny told him, and there was the faintest trace of pain in her low voice.

  Adam’s heart twisted for her.

  He was only more resolved now to do anything he had to do to solve Jenny’s problems.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Something changed during the next two weeks. Jenny couldn’t have defined exactly what it was, but it had something to do with the way Adam looked at her. The difference in his voice when he talked to her.

  He wanted her. He was no longer making an effort to disguise it.

  And yet he did nothing to frighten her, nothing to make her think he wanted any more than she was willing to give. He wasn’t rushing her, wasn’t pushing her, wasn’t even putting his feelings into words. He hadn’t kissed her again, though he touched her more often now than he had. Very light, casual, nonthreatening touches—a graze of his hand against hers, an encouraging pat on the shoulder, a brush of his knuckles aga
inst her cheek.

  The touches were affectionate, tender, seductive—and yet she was fully aware that he would have stopped immediately if she’d asked.

  She didn’t ask.

  She found herself pausing in her housework to stare into space and think of him. He disturbed her sleep by invading her dreams, charming and wooing her. She woke trembling and hugging her pillow, an odd, hungry emptiness inside her.

  She was falling for him. Hard. Or maybe she’d fallen for him on that icy, wet night when he’d taken her out of the cold and into his warmth.

  She strongly suspected that what she was feeling for him was love. Real love this time, not the shallow infatuation she’d felt before.

  And it petrified her.

  She was cleaning out the refrigerator in his kitchen, Melissa kicking contentedly in her automatic baby swing nearby, when the telephone rang early on a Friday afternoon. Suspecting it might be Adam, Jenny took a deep breath and answered on the kitchen extension. “Dr. Stone’s residence.”

  “Hello, Jenny, it’s Mrs. Stone.”

  The only person in the world who could make Jenny more nervous than Adam. His mother.

  “Hello, Mrs. Stone. How nice to hear from you,” she lied.

  “I called to ask if Adam has mentioned how much he loves honey-baked ham. I wasn’t sure if you know that’s one of his favorite meals.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Jenny said patiently. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “He particularly likes it with sweet potatoes. Now, Jenny, dear, you mustn’t buy those cheap hams. The flavor just isn’t the same and they’re much too fatty.” She named the source she deemed most suitable.

  “They’re a bit more expensive, but Adam can certainly afford it, and he does deserve the best,” she added.

  “Of course,” Jenny dutifully replied.

  “I understand from his secretary that he’s eating dinner at home much more often than he did before you came to work for him. Marcie said he’s leaving the office earlier than he used to, and that he isn’t working as many weekends as before.”

  Jenny hadn’t realized that. She wondered if Adam were spending more time at home to be with her. The thought warmed her, despite her concerns.

  “Dr. Stone is still a very busy man,” she said. “He leaves very early each morning and he comes home so tired. I know he carries a heavy load at the hospital.”

  “Yes. My son is an important man. It’s because of him that many formerly horribly disfigured people are able to lead normal, happy lives.”

  “It must be nice to make that kind of difference in the world,” Jenny said wistfully.

  “Mmm. Tell me, dear, what are your career plans? I only ask because you once told me your job for Adam was to be temporary.”

  Jenny wondered if she should take that as a hint. And then she chided herself for being paranoid. “I’ve been looking into night classes at a career college here in Little Rock,” she said. “They offer several computer courses.”

  “Computers? You want to work with computers?”

  “I don’t know what I want to do, exactly,” Jenny admitted. “But most jobs these days seem to require computer training, and I have little experience with them.”

  “I see. Well, I think you should make every effort to get your training, then. I know Adam will help you in any way he can. Adam has always liked to see deserving young people better themselves.”

  Jenny’s chin lifted at the implication that she needed Adam’s help. Biting back the instinctive disclaimer, she reminded herself that Arlene was Adam’s mother and naturally thought that he was indispensable.

  “Adam is very fond of you and your child,” Arlene said a moment later. “I know he wants the best for you both.”

  Jenny didn’t think she was being paranoid this time. Arlene seemed to be trying to find out if there was anything more to Adam and Jenny’s relationship than she’d been told. Specifically, it sounded as though she were trying to discover how Jenny felt about Adam.

  “Dr. Stone is a good man,” Jenny said rather primly. “I couldn’t have asked for a more thoughtful employer. I’m sure his next housekeeper will feel equally fortunate to work for him.”

  Arlene seemed satisfied with that—at least for now. She reminded Jenny again about the honey-baked ham and then murmured an excuse about how very busy she was before disconnecting the call.

  Jenny felt drained when she hung up the kitchen phone. Automatically she checked on Melissa and then went back to her refrigerator cleaning.

  She couldn’t help wondering why Arlene’s call had left her so depressed. Surely Jenny hadn’t started to believe her daydreams about Adam. Surely she hadn’t truly forgotten all the reasons why a happily-ever-after ending was so unlikely for them. Surely she hadn’t allowed foolish love to blind her to grim reality.

  If she had, it had taken only that one call to remind her of the truth. Arlene Stone had made the folly of those daydreams quite clear.

  She swiped irritably at her streaming eyes. The fumes from this cleaner must be stronger than she’d realized, she told herself, refusing to admit her tears could be caused by anything else.

  * * *

  “What’s this about you signing up for night classes at a career college?” Adam demanded that very evening. It was the first thing he said when he came home to find Jenny in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches to dinner.

  Startled, she turned quickly, clutching a wooden spoon to her chest. “Adam!” she scolded. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  He brushed the remonstration off impatiently. “Have you signed up for night classes?” he repeated.

  “I called and asked about the courses, but I haven’t actually signed up yet,” she replied. “How did you know?”

  “I talked to my mother this afternoon.” And he had been in a hurry to get home ever since. Arlene had made it sound as though Jenny was getting ready to move out at any moment.

  His mother had seemed to approve of the possibility. She’d made it clear, in her own subtle-as-a-bulldozer manner, that she was afraid Adam was getting a bit too attached to his housekeeper and her child. Not that she was a snob, she’d added, but he had to see how unsuitable it was. Jenny was years younger, and from an entirely different background. Not to mention that she had a child to worry about.

  Adam had ignored everything his mother had said after she’d hinted that Jenny was preparing to move on.

  “Your mother called here earlier,” Jenny explained. “She wanted to tell me where to buy your favorite brand of ham.”

  Adam didn’t want to talk about food. “Why didn’t you tell me you were looking into night classes? What kind of classes are they? When did you start planning this?”

  “You’re the one who suggested that I could attend classes while I worked for you,” she reminded him, rather defensively. “You mentioned it the first time you offered me the job.”

  “Well, yeah, sure,” he said, stumbling a bit. “But I didn’t think you’d consider it so soon. Melissa’s barely two months old. You’ve only just recovered from having her.”

  “Adam, I’ve been fully recovered for weeks, and you know it. I passed my six-week physical with flying colors. If I can run a vacuum and do heavy cleaning, I can certainly handle a few classes.”

  “And Melissa? What are you planning to do with her while you’re gone?”

  “The school I called has child care available on the premises. They employ licensed child-care workers, and the students are free to check on the children whenever they like.”

  Adam was shaking his head long before she finished speaking. “Just because someone has a license doesn’t mean she’s a dependable caretaker, especially for a baby as small and fragile as Melissa. If you’re going to do this, you’ll leave her with me. But I still don’t know why you can’t wait a few more months before you jump into something like this.”

  “The sooner I start my training, the sooner I’ll be
prepared to find another job,” Jenny explained. “And I certainly wouldn’t expect you to baby-sit Melissa while I attend classes. If I don’t like the child-care facilities available at the school, I’ll hire someone else.”

  “You aren’t leaving Melissa with a total stranger,” Adam said flatly. “And I don’t know why you’re in such a damn hurry to find another job, anyway. What’s wrong with this one?”

  “This one is temporary,” she snapped in return, her fists on her slender hips, the wooden spoon still clutched in her right hand. “It always has been. I told you from the beginning that I would work for you only until I was able to support myself and my child. On my own.”

  It was only then that Adam realized why he utterly detested the idea of Jenny taking those classes. He’d been seething about it ever since his mother had mentioned it, but he hadn’t really stopped to analyze his reaction. Now he knew.

  The more training Jenny received, the more qualified she would be for another job. She would be leaving then.

  She wouldn’t need him anymore.

  He asked himself if he was being fair to her. He couldn’t blame her for wanting something more than cooking and cleaning. Not that she’d seemed unhappy in the job so far, but maybe she was getting tired of the routine. He couldn’t imagine that a clerical job, even one that used computers, would be any more interesting—but maybe Jenny thought it would be.

  Whatever she wanted, he shouldn’t stand in her way.

  “When do the classes start?” he asked.

  She seemed to relax a little. “Not until next month.”

  He nodded. “Let me know what you decide to do, when the classes meet. I’ll arrange to be free those nights to take care of the baby.”

  She threw up her hands. The wooden spoon went flying, clattering against a wall and dropping to the tile floor. She ignored it. “You are not going to baby-sit!” she repeated.

  “Yes,” he answered implacably. “I am.”

  With that, he turned on one heel, walked to the swing and lifted Melissa into his arms. She smiled broadly at him, greeting him with the soft babbling she’d begun in the past week or so. He kissed her soft cheek. No stranger was taking care of this baby, he thought determinedly.