Another Homecoming Read online

  “They’re my parents.” Just like that. Blurted out.

  The waitress turned back, took a step toward Kyle, inspected her with eyes the color of gray marbles. “You don’t say.”

  “No, really. I was put up for adoption. I just learned about it.” A quick breath. “I don’t even know their names. Just that some document has placed them here in this town. At least, they used to live here.” She looked down at the cup, feeling the desolate futility swamp her.

  The waitress set the coffeepot back on the burner. “I’ve traveled about a million miles since the last time somebody caught me flat-footed.” Another careful inspection. “You eaten today?”

  Kyle shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

  “You look hungry. All wore out to boot. I’ll have Jimmy fix you a plate.”

  “Really, I couldn’t eat a thing.”

  “Wait ’til it’s sitting there in front of you and tell me that.” She pointed behind them. “Go have a seat in that booth by the window. And lay off the coffee. Your nerves are already so tight I can hear them humming.”

  Kyle did as she was told, then motioned through the window for Bertrand to join her. Her offer was declined with a shake of his head.

  The woman brought over a steaming plate. Kyle started again to protest, but as soon as she smelled the food, she felt faint with hunger. The woman watched her eat with satisfaction. “There, what did I tell you?”

  “This is delicious.”

  “Slow down, honey. It ain’t going nowhere.” She glanced out the window, then stared harder. “That battleship on wheels out there belong to you?”

  Kyle glanced over, saw her staring at the Rolls. “My mother—yes, yes it does.”

  “Well, if this don’t beat all.” The waitress observed her a moment longer. “You say you don’t even know what your last name was?”

  “No.”

  “That’s tough.” She mulled it over, then pulled out her order book and scribbled a moment. She tore out the sheet and laid it beside the plate. “You could try talking to this fellow. He might be able to help.”

  Kyle turned the slip of paper around and read aloud, “Dr. Howard Austin.”

  “Been here even longer than me, knows almost every secret there is. His office is halfway down the next block. Might as well leave the barge here, keep from holding up traffic.”

  Kyle read the woman’s name tag. “Thank you, Stella. From the bottom of my heart.”

  The waitress offered her first smile, and the years dropped away. “What’s your name, honey?”

  Kyle hesitated, then gave the only name she knew. “Kyle. Kyle Rothmore.”

  “Well, I sure hope you like what you find. Think maybe you could stop by, let me know what happens?”

  Kyle set down her napkin, slid from the booth, and offered Stella her hand. “I promise.”

  Kyle sat in the corner of the doctor’s office for hours. She leafed nervously through magazines whose pages had been wrinkled and torn by countless hands before her. People of every sort and description came and went. Most seemed to know one another, especially the mothers with infants. They sat and dangled the children, or let them play with the blocks scattered across the floor, and gossiped. Kyle, isolated by her nerves and her purpose, wondered what it would be like to feel as though she belonged so clearly to a place and a group of people that she did not even need to think about it.

  “Miss, ah, Rothmore?” The nurse was a heavyset woman with strands of graying hair falling out of her starched white cap. “Did I get that right?”

  “Yes.” Kyle had to use both arms to push herself up, she had been seated so long. “Yes, you did.”

  “The doctor can see you now,” the nurse said doubtfully. Her expression said volumes about what she thought of strange young women who appeared and asked for an appointment, then refused to give any reason. “But he’s extremely busy and can only give you a minute.”

  Kyle tried to ignore the questioning glances from the other people filling the waiting room. “I understand.”

  “This way, please.”

  Kyle followed her down the hall and into the office, where a man with a tired face and heavy paunch sat writing in a file. The nurse pointed her toward the examining table, but Kyle stood nervously in the center of the room. She was positive they could both hear her wildly beating heart.

  Finally the doctor folded the file shut, put it on the counter beside him, and said, “Yes?”

  Kyle glanced to where the nurse stood. In response, she crossed her arms and set her jaw. Clearly the woman was going nowhere.

  The doctor looked Kyle over. His eyes were rimmed with great dark circles, yet his gaze was as kind as his tone. “Are you pregnant, young lady?”

  “What?” Kyle took an involuntary step back. “N-no, that’s not it at all.”

  “Well, you’re obviously not here representing a drug company.” He motioned toward the table. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable over here?”

  “No . . . no thank you.” She swallowed, then stammered, “M-my name, it’s . . .”

  When she could not continue, the doctor reached a hand to where the nurse was standing. She passed over the single sheet of paper and said irritably, “Like I told you, she just gave her name and address. Refused to fill in the history.”

  “I see,” the doctor said doubtfully. He looked at the page, said, “Well, Miss Rothmore . . .”

  He stopped, looked up, and stared at Kyle. “Rothmore,” he said softly.

  The nurse started forward. “Doctor, is anything—?”

  “No,” he said, his eyes not leaving Kyle’s face. “Leave us a moment, will you, Miss Grant?”

  “Doctor, I’m not supposed . . .”

  “It’s fine.” The doctor tore his gaze away from Kyle long enough to say as reassuringly as he could manage, “It’s all right, Miss Grant. I won’t be long.”

  The nurse paused long enough to give Kyle a final hard look, then left. When the door had closed behind her, the doctor turned back and said quietly, “How did you find me?”

  20

  WEAKNESS FLOODED THROUGH KYLE in a sudden shocking wave. It’s really happening.

  “Hang on,” Dr. Austin said, reaching out with alacrity. “Okay, steady now, just come on over here, that’s it.”

  Kyle felt gentle arms guide her over to the examining table and settle her down. The doctor turned away and came back with a cup of water. Gratefully she accepted it and sipped. He watched her with a startled, kindly gaze. “Now, feel like maybe telling me how you got here?”

  In bits and pieces she explained how she had come to be in his office. The doctor’s amiable questions drew her further and further, until she was revealing more than she had ever expected. About her father’s death, and the trust, and how she had found out about the adoption. Even bringing Kenneth into the discussion, and what a help he had been.

  Finally the doctor was satisfied, at least enough to step back and regard her with a bemused expression. At length he said, “If you had come in here a year ago, I would have clammed up and sent you on your way. What’s done is done—that would have been my reaction. No use in digging up the past.”

  She found herself tensing once more. So close. But there was no way she could rush things. “And now?”

  “Now, well,” Dr. Austin let out a noisy sigh. “I’m beginning to find the Lord’s hand at work in more and more things these days. Do you have any idea what I mean?”

  “Yes,” she said, and her answer made her look deep inside and find it was true. “Yes, I think I do.”

  “Well, it’s all still a big mystery to me. But these days the strangest things just seem to be worked out before my eyes.” He offered her a small smile. “I still don’t understand much of anything. Once I would have dismissed it as mumbo-jumbo. Now I’m not sure what is touched by God.”

  She tried to answer his smile with one of her own, but it was hard. “Can . . . can you tell me something about them? My family, I m
ean.” It sounded so strange, saying those words. Her family.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied slowly. “To tell the truth, I don’t exactly know what my role in all this should be.”

  She gripped the starched sheet covering the table’s padding. But she remained silent. Something told her now was not the time to press.

  He rubbed one hand up and down his cheek, pondering a moment longer. Then he lifted his gaze and said quietly, “I need some time to sort this through. Could you come back tomorrow and—”

  “I . . . I . . .” Kyle started to agree, then stammered quickly, “No, I . . . I can’t.”

  He seemed taken aback by her response. “Why not?”

  “Because,” she replied slowly, “I broke rules to come today. Bertrand brought me. Mother would be furious if she ever found out. I can’t take that risk again, not so soon. It could cost him and his wife their jobs.”

  He nodded his head thoughtfully, then reached for his prescription pad. “Tell you what. Give me a while to think this over. Call me at home this evening. That’s my number.”

  “Thank you.” She accepted the paper with numb fingers.

  Dr. Austin hesitated a long moment, then looked down at his hands and said, “It so happens that I do know your parents. They have not forgotten you. The sorrow of losing you nearly ruined their lives. I’m just not sure that bringing you back into their lives is the right thing to do.”

  There was an awful instant when she felt certain he was going to refuse her then and there. Instead, he remained as he was, his head bowed so that she stared at his bald spot, and murmured more to himself than to her, “Then again, they sure could use some good news right now, what with Joel . . .”

  When his voice trailed off and it appeared that he would not go on, she quietly pressed, “Who?”

  He raised his gaze and shook his head at her question. “I promise to give it careful thought. Perhaps it wouldn’t do too much harm, after all.” He offered her his hand. “Nice to know you’ve grown up and turned out so well.”

  She walked back down the hall and reentered the waiting room. She did not feel as though she had turned out well at all. She felt lost and utterly alone. Suddenly she was filled with an overpowering need to contact Kenneth, feel his strength, and hear his wisdom make sense of the tumult in her mind and heart. She turned to where the nurse was regarding her from behind the receptionist’s counter. “May I use your phone, please?”

  “I suppose so.” Her tone was disapproving.

  “Thank you.” Kyle dialed the office, then asked for Kenneth’s secretary. When the woman came on the line, she said, “This is Kyle Rothmore. Do you happen to have a number where I can reach Mr. Adams?”

  “Miss Kyle, why, yes, hello.” The woman seemed tremendously flustered. “I was just trying to reach you at the dorm.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?” The alarm in her voice brought the nurse back around.

  “Nothing, that is . . . Mr. Adams is back here. He’s in with Mr. Crawley.” There was a moment’s hesitation, then, “And Mrs. Rothmore has just arrived.”

  Alarm bells jangled along every inch of her body. “Slip him a note,” she said, not trying to hide her apprehension. “Tell him I’m coming. Tell him I’m hurrying just as fast as I can.”

  The journey downtown seemed to last forever but in truth took less than an hour. Bertrand took the wheel himself and expertly maneuvered the big car through the city traffic. His normal caution was cast aside in answer to her urgent pleadings for speed.

  At the Rothmore building, Kyle was out of the car before Bertrand even had his door open. Barely controlling her impatience up the elevator to the executive floor, she flew down the hallway and flung back the door to her father’s former office. She took one look at Kenneth’s face and exclaimed, “Don’t let them do it!”

  “Really, Kyle,” her mother said peevishly. “What on earth are you thinking? Rushing in here and spouting off nonsense. Honestly, it’s just too much.”

  Kyle glanced at her mother. It was the first time they had seen each other since the start of the school term. She turned back to Kenneth and pleaded, “Don’t let them push you into anything.”

  He turned to her, the entreaty clear in his eyes. “They say they’ll keep my entire staff in place, if I—”

  She could not let him say the words. “No! I will not allow it.”

  “Oh, stop it. Stop it right now!” Her mother slapped the arm of her chair. “Sit down and behave yourself.”

  Kenneth kept his gaze upon her. “That’s almost two hundred jobs we’re talking about, Kyle.”

  “Really, Kyle. This is nothing you need concern yourself with.” Randolf Crawley was at his most polished. He moved swiftly around the desk, walked over, took her arm, and said, “Here, why don’t you—”

  She pulled her arm free. To Kenneth she pleaded, “There must be something we can do to stop them!”

  “Oh, do be quiet,” her mother snapped. “I won’t allow you to interfere in something you know absolutely nothing about, do you hear me? I forbid it!”

  “I suppose we could challenge the act in court,” Kenneth mused aloud. “After all, I am still a trustee.”

  “But a secondary one,” Randolf said, not returning to his seat. His poise slipped a notch. “Really, I must warn you—”

  “Please,” Kyle said to Kenneth, “please do that. I’ll help any way I can.”

  “You’ll help?” Abigail gave a shrill laugh. “Oh, this is just too much.”

  Kenneth turned his attention to Abigail. “Kyle is less than six months from coming into her full inheritance. This includes, as you know, voting rights for over sixty percent of the stock. I would imagine the least we could do is have a holding order placed upon such a decision until she reaches her majority.”

  Abigail stiffened as though slapped. She glared at Kyle. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Kyle forced herself to remain fully erect. “There’s a lot I’ve been daring to do, Mother.”

  “Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ve just come from Riverdale,” Kyle replied. “Where I met with Dr. Howard Austin.”

  Her mother’s face turned absolutely white. “I’ll not have you inherit my company just to turn around and hand it over to a family of peasants.”

  “It is not your company, Mother,” Kyle said, glad that her voice did not betray her turmoil. “It was Daddy’s, and as far as I’m concerned, it still is.” She paused, then said, “What do you know about my birth parents, Mother?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice was a lash. “I had no interest whatsoever in knowing anything at all. Why should I mix with rabble?”

  “I am that rabble,” Kyle said softly.

  “All that is behind you,” Randolf said, heading off Abigail’s retort. But his soothing tone was marred by nervousness. “Really, Kyle, don’t you think we would all be better off if you trusted us to look after your best interests?”

  Firmly Kyle shook her head. “I think it’s time I started trusting myself.”

  Abigail leaped to her feet. She snapped at Randolf, “I knew it was a mistake to try your roundabout maneuvers. I’ve had all of this I can stand.” She wheeled around to face Kyle. “Young lady, I am ordering you to stop this nonsense immediately.”

  Kyle stood with shoulders squared. She felt as though an immense distance was separating them, at the same time hurting her but also sheltering her. “I’m sorry, Mother. But I can’t do that.”

  “Then I will have the courts declare you incompetent,” Abigail ground out. She spun away and started for the door. “Come along, Randolf. We have work to do.”

  When they were alone, Kyle felt her strength and resolve drain away. She sank into a chair.

  “I think they are going to find that very hard going,” Kenneth mused aloud. “The first time they contested the will and the trust, the courts rebuked them for even trying. Not only that, you’re attending college and doing well in your studies. You are six
months from your majority, you have been spending time here in . . .” He noticed her expression. “What’s the matter?”

  “I feel ill.” Standing up to her mother had drained the energy from every fiber of her body.

  “Do you want something?”

  “A glass of water, please.” Gratefully she accepted the glass, took a sip, and felt slightly better. “That was dreadful.”

  “I hate arguments,” he agreed. “But you handled it very well.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “I was so proud of you,” he said quietly.

  She reached over, took his hand, and said, “I could not have done it without you.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You were here. That was the most important thing.” She felt strength flow through his grasp, up her arm, and warm her chest. “Don’t ever leave, Kenneth. Not ever.”

  He leaned closer and said, “I want nothing more than to be here for you.”

  21

  JOEL LAY IN THE BARN LOFT’S snug room and listened to the noisy tumult of another dawn. Whoever thought living on a farm was quiet had never been near one. Dogs and roosters and cows and horses were all competing to make the most racket. He had never known a place as noisy as this—or as pleasant.

  The Millers had offered him a place in the big house, but he had declined. He required so much sleep these days, he needed a place to come and shut the door on the family noise and the activity. His chest hurt almost all the time, a dull ache that had become as familiar to him as breathing. A constant reminder of what lay ahead.

  Joel shifted restlessly, making the rusty springs of his ancient bed squeak and complain. The room had last belonged to a farmhand, brought in back when the Miller children had been too small to take on many of the chores. The little room’s dresser lacked the two middle drawers, the mirror was cracked and held together with masking tape, and the bed was twice his own age. Yet Joel had never felt as much at home as he did here. Which made his impending departure even harder to bear.

  Two days a week, he did light chores around the Miller farm. It was the only payment the family would accept for his room and board. The rest of the time was spent working with a youth mission connected to a Lansdale church. Lansdale was the nearest thing to a city the Pennsylvanian Dutch region could boast. In recent years, it had gained a reputation as a stopping place for kids on the move. And there were so many of them these days. Runaways, college kids taking a semester off, or kids just roaming around. The Lansdale church work had given Joel an opportunity to give, to share, to love. He had never known such a feeling of completeness. Even when it made him so tired.