Home For Christmas. Catherine Lanigan
Adam jerked his head back. This was news to him. “And that would be…what?”
Titus looked at Timmy, who elbowed him for encouragement. Timmy and Titus were close, now that Titus was in kindergarten. Timmy had taken Titus under his wing, and when Adam had been immersed in a geothermal energy construction project, or if he’d had to drive to Chicago to meet with a prospective client, Sarah generously watched Titus at her house. Adam didn’t know how Sarah juggled three children, a creatively demanding career as a busy commercial design consultant, the summer fund-raising festival for Saint Mark’s and volunteer work for the new Indian Lake Community Center.
Too often, Adam was caught spending late-night hours at his computer rather than doing the laundry, making costumes for Titus or thinking about things like Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. The only thing that broke his focus on work was caring for Titus. His son was his joy.
“I’ve had a revelation, Dad,” Titus said seriously.
Adam crossed his arms over his chest and glanced at Sarah, who smiled at Titus. “Go on.”
“I liked working on this pageant and I think I want to go into the theater business.”
Adam coughed and held his fist to his mouth. This was not what he’d thought his brilliant son would say. He’d imagined that Titus would want to follow in his footsteps. Become an engineer or a physicist. Titus was smart and quick and liked working alongside him on his local projects. Just last week Titus had gone with him to Frank Boston’s greenhouse, where Adam had been installing a new geothermal heating unit.
“Theater? You mean you want to be an actor?”
“No, Dad. Timmy’s gonna be an actor. I want to write plays. Like I did for Mrs. Cook.”
Adam’s eyes snapped to Sarah, who shook her head. “What did you write, son?”
“My speech. I did the research, which was interesting. And enlightening.”
Adam mouthed “enlightening.” He was continually surprised at Titus’s vocabulary. He’d bought Titus a dictionary and thesaurus six months ago. He wondered if Titus had read them both cover to cover. “Well, we’ll have to talk about it.”
Titus’s smile vanished. “You always say that and we never do.”
Sarah’s eyebrow arched. She put her hand on Timmy’s shoulder. “Let’s go find your sisters.”
“Sure, Mom.”
She gave Adam a quick hug. “I’m guessing I’ll see you at Frank’s funeral?”
Adam had known Sarah and her group of friends since high school. Adam had been the nerdy guy in high school, wading through CAD programs, tinkering with machines and engines.
Adam had never known his parents, who gave him up for adoption to a church-affiliated foster home only weeks after his birth. They’d left him in a car seat at Pastor Flutie’s front door with a note giving his birth date and name, which Adam always believed was fictitious. Years ago, Adam had tried to track down information about his birth parents, but the time and money he’d spent were wasted.
Pastor Flutie and his wife, Martha, were good people and raised him, along with over thirty other children who didn’t have parents and had come their way.
Though they’d clothed and fed him, given him attention, Adam had always kept to himself. He didn’t voice opinions often, and when he did, he made certain he had all his facts.
Adam had always wanted a family. He’d envied the close-knit Barzonni family and Sarah’s loving mother, Ann-Marie, and he’d been there for Sarah when both her parents died.
Sarah had been a good friend to him ever since he’d come back to town, after Amie died of leukemia. Sarah and Luke had included Titus, and their friendship meant a great deal to him. But he was also careful not to ask too much of them.
Sarah touched Adam’s sleeve. “Look, I know how close you were to Frank…”
Adam felt the emotion in his throat grow hot. He choked it back. “He was like my own grandfather.”
“I know. He loved you, Adam. You did so much for him these past years.”
“I should have done more.”
“Come on. You were with him when he died. If you hadn’t been there… Calling the ambulance. Staying with him at the hospital until…” Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s so hard.”
Sarah had been through a great deal of grief herself. He touched her hand. It was ice-cold. “I’m sorry, Sarah. All this must remind you of your parents. They were good people.”
“The best. They liked you a lot, Adam.”
“You don’t have to say that. I was such a…dork.”
“Stop. Okay?” She looked down at Titus, who watched them both with serious, probing eyes. “I gotta go. Let me know about the funeral. I’m guessing the family will take care of everything.”
Adam shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “That would be Joy.”
“Oh…my…gosh. Adam. I forgot. I’m sorry. Mrs. Beabots called her and broke the news. Have you talked to Joy?”
“Not since she left for college.” Ten years ago, Joy had been his girlfriend. Adam had given her a promise ring the day before they’d started their senior year in high school. That same day he’d received a letter from Purdue University that he’d won a full-ride scholarship for engineering. Adam had believed that he and Joy would spend the rest of their lives together. She’d promised to love him.
For a foster kid with no love in his life, Joy had been all he’d ever wanted. He was the one who dreamed of a cottage by Indian Lake with a rose-covered fence. He’d envisioned kids and a dog and a life of happiness.
All that year after school, Adam had gone to the Boston greenhouses to work until supper alongside Joy and her Frank. Frank had been the kind of grandfather Adam thought came along only in fairy tales. He gave Adam a few extra dollars to take Joy to a movie or out for a pizza. He loaned Adam his truck to drive them all out to the beach in the summer. Frank had been father, grandfather, mentor and adviser. Where Pastor Flutie had lacked in practical and business guidance, Frank filled in the blanks.
“He was family to me,” Adam whispered, trying desperately not to show the emotion he felt so sharply.
Sarah leaned closer. “I didn’t mean to open that wound.”
“It’s okay. Joy left. She wanted Columbia, her accounting degree and life in New York.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And she got it.”
“She did.” Sarah paused. “When I talked to Mrs. Beabots this morning, she said Joy’s coming back here to arrange the funeral.”
“Of course. Mrs. Beabots talked to Joy…”
“I know, right? Mrs. Beabots keeps up with the whereabouts of all of us. I suppose Frank had told her where Joy worked.”
“Newly and Associates,” Adam said.
“Yeah.” Sarah eyed him, but continued. “She’s flying out of New York today.”
“Today,” he repeated. His heart shook. Joy, who had told him she didn’t want the same things out of life that he did. She wanted to leave Indian Lake and never come back. She wanted a life in New York with hustle and noise and excitement.
She didn’t want him.
She’d given him back his promise ring and told him she was going to Columbia University. She never answered a phone call or an email after she moved.
By the end of Adam’s freshman year, Frank told him that Joy had made it clear that Frank could visit her in New York, where she’d arranged for internships in the summers, but she never wanted to see Indian Lake, her