Think and Grow Rich. Napoleon Hill

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      As she spoke she couldn’t help but look toward the back bedroom, but the door was shut. Would Doug be shocked at finding a grandson he had never been told about?

      Justin Bryant was still talking. “…and I intend to beat Doug at Scrabble this time. I have a new dictionary. Who else is here besides the fragile lady who took my bedroom?”

      Beth found herself telling him about the sudden arrival of Doug’s daughter and the other two guests who were arriving tomorrow.

      “Oh, good. Full house,” Justin said. “You can always find somebody interesting in a full house.”

      After she left Justin, she finally managed to change into an at-home outfit, one of Doug’s favorites. A soft heather jersey with a swishy draped skirt. Doug was trying to paint a picture of her in it. He had made dozens of sketches but he wasn’t satisfied.

      “I guess what talent I’ve got is for landscapes,” he had said. “Trees. Rocks. Hills. Sea. Those I can do. Why can’t I capture your beautiful face?”

      She went into the kitchen to start dinner and realized she was still listening intently for some sound from upstairs. Twice she couldn’t resist going to the bottom of the stairway for a moment. When would they ever come down? Would Doug really be happy? Was he as pleased as he had sounded on the phone? From the kitchen she heard the Driscolls leaving, and the murmur of Mrs. Driscoll’s voice, sounding plaintive. She hoped they wouldn’t come back early, but they probably would. Then, a few minutes later, she heard Justin Bryant bounding down the stairs. He had friends in Seattle, so he would probably be back late.

      Finally. Beth heard Doug and Kayla coming toward the kitchen. Oh, please, God, let Doug be happy. Let this be right for Doug. Then, belatedly, she prayed, And let it be good for Kayla, too. She breathed a sigh of relief at Doug’s wide grin. He was carrying Adam. The little boy wasn’t frowning, but his small face was dead serious.

      “Ah, something smells wonderful. And I’m famished. Why didn’t you tell me my grandson had arrived?” He leaned over to kiss Beth, and she felt herself flushing like a schoolgirl on her first date.

      “I wanted Kayla to tell you,” Beth said. She couldn’t help but smile, too. Kayla looked radiant, so the reunion must have gone well. She was a pretty woman.

      “Everything’s almost ready,” Beth said happily. “Just go in and sit down. I’ll bring in the food.” She had set the dining room table with her best china and silver in Kayla’s honor. There was a low centerpiece of early white crocus. She had put the wooden booster seat on one of the chairs for Adam. As the three seated themselves, Beth began serving. The London broil marinade had tenderized the meat so it could be cut with a fork. The roasted red-skinned potato wedges were perfectly done. Beth sprinkled grated cheese over them, knowing it would melt by the time it reached the table. Then she quickly filled the chilled salad bowls with greens. She took everything in on the big silver tray because she didn’t want to get up from the table again until dessert, and because she knew Doug would leap up to help her. Let me take, Beth, it’s too heavy for you.

      It was a lovely, comfortable meal, enriched with talk and laughter. Kayla’s tension was gone. She was relaxed, pleasant and sometimes quite funny. Adam tucked into his food with sober concentration, as if he hadn’t had a peanut butter sandwich and cookies in midafternoon. Kayla ate hungrily, too, with little approving comments. “Oh, Beth, this is so good.”

      Looking at Adam fondly, Doug said, “I had a bit of trouble getting acquainted with the little guy, but he loosened up after a while.”

      “Adam’s kind of quirky,” Kayla said. “He’ll probably end up like his daddy. Mitch was a loner. I don’t think he ever had any real friends.”

      Beth met Doug’s eyes across the table in time to see the quick look of rejection. She could almost feel his thought: No. Not Adam. Somehow, some way, life must be better for Adam. And again, Beth felt the sense of uneasiness.

      Kayla’s energy didn’t last long after dinner, and Adam had already fallen asleep, curled up on the floor beside Kayla’s feet, soon after they had gone into the living room.

      “Why don’t you go to bed, sweetheart?” Doug asked her. “I know you’re beat. Traveling does that.”

      Kayla hid a yawn behind a slender hand. “I think I will, Daddy—if that’s all right with you, Beth. Tomorrow I’ll be a new woman. And I intend to be some help. I’m a pretty good house cleaner when I get going. Daddy, will you carry Adam up for me?”

      Beth went back into the dining room and cleared the table. She was putting the last things into the dishwasher when Doug came into the kitchen. He sat down at the kitchen table and she joined him. Both reached out and clasped hands as they often did. Doug was looking at her intently.

      “Thank you for what you did, my love.”

      “What? I don’t—”

      “For Kayla. For Adam.” His voice was unsteady for a moment.

      “What do you mean?”

      “I know Kayla. I’m her father, remember? I know how grungy she can be when she reaches the point of going back on the wagon again. And I recognized Jill’s blue dress.”

      “Oh, that,” Beth said in sudden embarrassment. “I… She lost her luggage and she needed—”

      “And if anybody needs, you fly to the rescue. I love you, Beth. I hope I deserve you.” He tightened his hold on her hands. “And it salvaged Kayla’s pride a bit, too, not having to face me looking like a ragamuffin. I know she must have been.”

      “How…how did things come out?”

      He released her hands and got up. “Pretty well, I guess. With Kayla I’m never sure. But this time I think she really means it. Endicott’s death got to her, I believe.”

      “Who’s Endicott?”

      “Adam’s father. Mitch Endicott.” He went over to the refrigerator. “I’ll start the breakfast preparations while I tell you. No, don’t get up. You’ve done enough today.” He took the melons out of the fridge and put them on the long drain board.

      Beth sat back as he took things out of cupboards and drawers and rolled up his sleeves. She loved to watch his big hands working. The big hands that could saw logs for the fireplaces or wield a tiny paintbrush to put sunlight on leaves or, as now, use the small scoop to create melon balls for breakfast.

      “Kayla wants to go back into rehab. This time for the complete cure. She knows it won’t be easy, mainly because she’s tried before and failed. The rehab treatment takes about three months and will cost the earth. But I can afford it—though my emergency fund is taking a bit hit.”

      “But if she really means it and is successful, won’t it be worth it?” Beth felt a surge of relief. She had a quick mental image of Kayla, not an alcoholic. Kayla not depending on Doug, but competent, successful. Kayla taking her little boy and going away.

      “More than worth it. But she wants us to take care of Adam while she’s away. She can’t take a three-year-old with her into rehab.” He turned from the sink, the melon baller held loosely in one hand. “What do you think about that?”

      “Of course we can take СКАЧАТЬ