Fiona’s apple pie. We picked up two a couple days ago.”
“Aunt Fiona’s?” Jake asked. “My favorite.”
Liza smiled. “How about à la mode? Vanilla ice cream?”
“I’ll take a big piece,” Jake said.
Kate decided to pass on dessert. If she didn’t skip the pie, she’d pass out at the table for sure. Sleep was the only thing that sounded good to her.
Rest didn’t come easy for Kate. Her body jerked and her eyes flew open as she began to sink into sleep. She’d been up two full days, and her senses had set themselves on the edge of awareness.
Kate couldn’t believe they’d given her the use of Adam’s old bedroom. Her eyes took in every nook and cranny as she imagined Adam as a child. Colleen had mentioned he’d been a science buff even then, intent on his microscope, pricking his own finger for blood, analyzing insects he’d dragged in from outside.
Before she’d lain down, Kate had stood at the wide window, gazing out at the sprawling yard. A huge maple stood outside the pane, its branches almost touching the glass. She’d wondered if Adam ever used the limbs to sneak out at night when he was a teen. She’d grinned at her silly imagination. She’d seen too many movies.
With relentless curiosity, her thoughts clung to Adam. Not the Adam she’d seen unconscious at Vance Memorial, but the Adam she imagined as a youth and the grown-up Adam she knew in Venezuela.
Even with his moments of impudence, he had made her laugh and entertained her with his interest in nature. She remembered one evening when the clinic’s interior had become stifling, and she and Adam had run into each other outdoors, trying to catch a breath of fresh air. They’d found a gentle breeze and stood together admiring the late-afternoon sky. Appreciating the blessing, each had responded to the beauty of the sunset, its colors spreading across the horizon like pastel silk unraveling on a misty blue lake.
She recalled other days they had both marveled at the birds. Colorful parrots and tropical creatures she’d never seen before except perhaps at a zoo—large banana-curved beaks and plumage the spectrum of primary colors. Their chatter filled the daytime, reverberating with unique whistles and plaintive calls that punctuated the solitude of the compound.
One day Adam had joined her and two other staff members on a free afternoon to visit the lagoon. They saw the mangroves with their long roots extending into the water like legs on a spider. Adam had been curious that day and had studied them so closely that when an animal had skittered in the bushes, the noise had sent him flying backward. They had all laughed, and she’d felt pleased seeing Adam laugh at himself.
Kate covered her head with a pillow, then counted backward from a hundred. Finally, somewhere between three and three-thirty, she drifted off, but before the sun rose, she awakened with no hope of falling back to sleep.
Concern provoked her thoughts. She rose, took a quick shower, dressed and called a taxi. Downstairs, she found a tea bag and popped a mug of water into the microwave, figuring she would buy her much-needed coffee at the hospital.
By the time she swallowed the last of the black pekoe, the taxi’s headlights flashed across the windows. She hurried outside before he honked and slumped in the back of the cab, wishing she could catch a few minutes’ rest.
Solace finally came when Kate stood beside Adam’s bed in ICU. She spent the hours ambling back and forth between the waiting room and his bedside.
“Adam,” she whispered. “Use that attitude of yours, that self-importance I’ve seen so often, and wake up. Fight. Don’t let this get you.”
His finger was connected to a pulse oximeter. Kate touched his hand, rubbing her palm over his cool skin. “Adam. Let’s pray together.”
She leaned closer to his ear and murmured the prayer she’d said so often, asking God to renew his strength and spirit, to make him whole again.
When she’d said the Amen, she lifted her hand and touched his face. “Adam, wake up. You must make it through this. You’re loved by so many people.”
She turned away, realizing that, without question, she was becoming one of them.
Kate lifted her gaze when she heard footsteps and saw Adam’s parents step into the hospital waiting room.
When Liza saw her, she hurried to Kate’s side. “How’s Adam?”
“They did an EEG this morning. He seems to be doing a little better.”
“He’s conscious?” Liza’s eyes brightened with her words.
“No. But his vital signs are good.”
Mrs. Montgomery’s face sagged with disappointment.
“His breathing has improved,” Kate added, hoping to cheer her. “I’m guessing they’ll take the chest tube out soon.”
“That would be wonderful,” Liza said. “What were the results of his EEG?”
“Adam’s not back yet. I expect we’ll hear something soon. The doctor usually stops by once he’s read the test results.”
Liza dropped her bag on an empty seat and wrung her hands. “This waiting is so stressful.”
“It is.” Kate massaged the tension in her neck, then scooted deeper into the cushion, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She’d fought sleep all night, and now it seemed to overtake her.
“I wonder if he’s back and they…”
Kate pulled herself upward and opened her eyes.
Liza regarded her face. “I’m sorry, dear. You look so tired, and I disturbed you. I apologize.”
“No need. I was just resting my eyes.”
“I feel so badly you couldn’t sleep last night. Was the bed uncomfortable? I know it’s difficult to sleep when—”
“It wasn’t the bed. That felt wonderful. I was just too wound up. I’ll sleep better tonight.”
“I hope so,” Liza said, sinking in the chair beside Kate. “It’s so kind of you to stay here day in and day out like this…for Adam.”
Her words charged up Kate’s back. “We were close in Venezuela…working together constantly. I can’t help but be concerned.”
“I understand,” Liza said. “You’re a kindhearted young woman.”
“Thank you,” Kate said, not knowing how to respond since her motivation was selfish.
Kate’s gaze drifted toward the door, and a doctor stepped into the room. He gave her a nod and headed their way.
“Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery?”
Kate struggled to keep from rising. Liza stood and joined her husband.
“Yes,” Frank said.
“The EEG shows no permanent damage. We’ll continue with analgesics
