Beth went into the bed-sitter. She looked down at Adam, sprawled in deep sleep in the middle of the big sofa bed. He looked so little. So innocent. So defenseless. There was a feeling of dread in her stomach.
Kayla is coming back.
She should probably feel some guilt about this, because Kayla needed help as much as Adam did, but try as she would, she could feel little sympathy for Kayla. Kayla was a user, a loser. She was a threat to her own child’s well-being. And—because of Doug’s feeling about the situation—she could be a threat to their perfect life.
No! Never! Nothing must threaten my marriage to Doug! Somehow she would need to cope with Kayla’s return. Beth went to the wall phone and quietly dialed the church’s number. The office would be closed now, of course, but she could leave a message on the answering machine. When the mechanical sound of Bessie’s voice finished speaking in her ear, Beth said very quietly, “This is Beth Colby. Will you ask Pastor Cooper to give me a call, Bessie? Thank you.” Help me, she was pleading in her mind. Help me, God. She went to the kitchen table and sat on one of the stools. The only sound was the ticking of the kitchen clock.
It was almost four, too early to start any preparation for breakfast. Vaguely she thought about going back upstairs to dress, but didn’t move. There came the sound of gentle spring rain outside. It was an oddly comforting sound. Good old Seattle night rains. It would be gone before daylight, leaving the streets and sidewalk cleanly washed and the lawns and gardens nicely watered.
Then she heard the dripping sounding on the service porch. Oh, no. Not another leak in the roof!
Hurriedly she got up and went onto the service porch, which protruded from the house, sheltered by its own roof. As soon as she stepped onto it, she felt water under her feet. In one motion she snatched up a bucket and placed it under the leak. It was not exactly a stream, but would be before the day was over. It meant more of the ugly blue tarp, if they could get emergency help from the roofing company. What next? This was going to cost even more money they couldn’t really afford. Then, suddenly, the recollection sprang into her mind. She had had two offers for the flourishing B and B. And one had been a firm offer—from a middle-aged couple who had taken early retirement and then regretted it. They had wanted—intensely—to have some work to do. No! Never! Never would she sell her B and B!
She might as well go up and get dressed, she thought angrily, but going back into the kitchen she was startled to see the guest from the back bedroom, Mr. McCormack. He was an elderly ginger-haired man who had come to Seattle to settle an estate matter.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Ah, I see you’ve got the same problem.” He had noticed the mop bucket as she shut the service porch door. “I’m afraid I’ve got a leaky ceiling. I came down looking for a pot or something.” He seemed quite good-natured about it, and Beth felt a flush of embarrassment rise to her face.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Here, let me get you something. There’s another bucket.” She opened the back door again to get it. A leak in the back bedroom, too? That was the part not protected by the blue tarp. We can’t afford a whole new roof.
“Do you mind if I go up with you? I’d like to see what…what damage—”
“I don’t think it’s real damage,” he assured her, reaching for the bucket. “The carpet on that side is soaked, but it’s just clean rainwater. Could that do damage?”
“I suppose not,” she said, “and I have one of those carpet cleaners that sucks up water, but I can’t use it before everyone’s up and gone. It’s so loud it’d raise the dead, which I don’t think anyone would appreciate.”
Together they went up to the back bedroom and placed the bucket under the steady drip, drip, drip from the ceiling.
“That should do it. I’m a light sleeper or I wouldn’t even have noticed it,” Mr. McCormack said.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I’ll give you our off-season discount rate—”
“Nonsense. Don’t worry about it. Life’s full of interesting little challenges. I’ll be fine now. And I’ll see that the bucket doesn’t overflow, I promise.”
Back in her own room, Beth took a quick shower and dressed. Where was Doug? Surely he should be coming back soon with Kayla.
Kayla. Her heart sank. Adam was doing so well. And what would this failure do to Kayla’s already low self-esteem?
It was almost five-thirty before she heard Doug coming back. She had just started the breakfast preparations. Breakfast hours were eight until ten. She opened the back door and went down the back steps to meet them. The predawn air was chilly.
“Are you all right? Is Kayla all right?” she asked as she saw them get out of the car. Doug was helping Kayla, who was staggering and weaving.
Doug looked grim. “I guess you could say we are all right,” he said. Then to Kayla, he said, “Watch it, dear. There are steps.”
“Okay,” Kayla said agreeably, “I can do steps.” And holding on to her father, she managed fairly well. “Hi, Beth. It’s the bad penny coming back. Sorry about that.” She looked half asleep.
“I’ll get her into the bed-sitter,” Doug said, sounding embarrassed and apologetic. “I see we’ve got another leak,” he added, noticing the filling bucket on the porch.
“And one in the back bedroom. Mr. McCormack reported it a while ago.”
“Two leaks, huh?” Doug added. “Looks like the beginning of another perfect day.”
Feeling helpless and trying to hide her disgust, Beth followed them. In the bed-sitter Adam was still sleeping deeply, and Kayla headed for the broad window seat.
“Love that window seat,” she said. “Good old window seat.” She collapsed onto the long padded cushion, saying in a singsong tone, “Oh, lovely, lovely, lovely,” and promptly fell asleep.
Both Doug and Beth looked at her. In a moment she curled up like a child, her blond hair tousled, her lovely face flushed.
“What do you think?” Doug asked. “Should she just sleep there?” He turned to Beth. His eyes looked so sad and defeated that she wanted to cry.
“Why not? She looks quite comfortable. I’ll get a blanket and pillow.” She did, and covered Kayla, carefully tucking a pillow under her head. Kayla gave a gusty sigh and seemed content.
Since there seemed nothing more they could do, both Doug and Beth went back into the kitchen. “I’m fresh out of ideas,” Doug said.
“I am, too,” Beth answered. “I left a message for Pastor Cooper to call, but…”
“Maybe he’ll have some ideas. She’s failed twice at the rehab center. She can’t handle the AA program. What else is there? And I—” He stopped, his head and shoulders bowed in defeat.
“And you what?” Beth prompted.
“Beth, I can’t keep imposing on you with this. It’s my problem. I can’t turn her out—there’s Adam to think of, as well as Kayla.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re not imposing on me. I’m your wife. If you have a problem, I share it. If I had a problem, you’d share it, without any question. So don’t talk about imposing.” In her sudden panic, she had spoken more sharply than she had intended, and he glanced up, startled.
“I didn’t mean to snap your head off,” she added with a forced smile, and he reached out, took her hand and kissed it.
“What kind of place was it, where she was staying?” Beth asked.
“You were right. It’s a crummy neighborhood. This Wanda—Wilson’s her last name. Wanda Wilson had gone to ‘crash,’ as she put it, at her boyfriend’s house. His name is John something—Hull, I think she said. He’s apparently unemployed at the moment and living with his parents. I think he may have a drinking problem, too. Incidentally, they didn’t seem too pleased at the arrival of two new houseguests. We had an uncomfortable few minutes until I assured them I was there to take one of their sudden houseguests off their hands. Then things lightened up somewhat.”
“Oh, what an unpleasant situation.”
“You could say that. It seems that John plans to marry Wanda. His parents had sprung for the price of the rehab in the faint hope that their son’s bride would be sober when the big day came around. We were a pretty glum crowd. So I got my daughter and got out as fast as I could.”
They were halfway through the breakfast preparations when Adam came running into the kitchen in his pajamas, his face radiant. “Mommy’s back! Mommy’s back! Mommy’s by the window! Mommy’s back!” He caught at Beth’s skirt. “Come see! Come see!”
“Not now, sweetheart. When I get through here. Is Mommy still sleeping?”
“Yeah, sleeping.” Then he ran to Doug. “Mommy’s back.”
“Yep, buddy, I know. How about we go and get you dressed?” He stooped and picked up the delighted little boy.
Beth suppressed a sigh but said nothing as she realized that she would finish the breakfast preparations by herself. She managed to do so, feeling somewhat harried as the guests started coming down. Were all the salt shakers filled? Did everyone have water? Where was the carafe of pineapple juice that was supposed to be put on the buffet between the orange juice and the tomato juice? Still in the fridge? She rushed back into the kitchen to get it. She hadn’t realized how much work Doug had taken over since their marriage.
The rain had cleared before the guests finished breakfast, and as they all started out on their day’s adventures, one of Seattle’s brilliant spring days had begun.
“You know,” Doug said as he helped put dishes into the dishwasher, “as soon as I get in touch with the roof guy again, I’ll go down to Shilshole to work on the painting, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,” Beth said quickly. When Kayla woke up, it might be better if Doug were out of the house. Adam was so happy, she didn’t want another Kayla-Doug quarrel to start.
Adam had been trotting back and forth between the bed-sitter and the kitchen, reporting. “Mommy’s still asleep.” As Doug left, to distract Adam and perhaps let Kayla sleep undisturbed, Beth took Adam upstairs with her for the bed-making tasks.
It was almost eleven when they came back down, and they found Kayla seated hunched over the kitchen table. She looked sick.
“Oh, Beth, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t know what you must think. Hi, baby,” she added to Adam as he ran to her. Tiredly, she leaned over to pick him up and hold him.
“Have you had anything to eat?” Beth asked, although she really didn’t want to know.
“Forget eating for a while, okay?” Kayla said. “Is Dad around?”
“No. It’s such a great day, he went out to paint. I do think you should have something. Coffee, maybe?”
“Maybe later, okay?”
“Mommy, you come back,” Adam said, trying to get Kayla’s attention.
“Look, baby, Mommy doesn’t feel too good. You go play or something.” She pushed him off her lap, and he backed away, looking up at her, frowning slightly.
Beth sat down across from her, reaching out to Adam. He went over to her, and she picked him up to hold him.
“Did it just get too…difficult?” Beth asked awkwardly. She felt confused, out of her depth. How in the world should she handle this?
Kayla sighed. “That’s as good a reason as any, I guess. It was a mistake to come here. Dad’s going to be furious, and I must admit he’s entitled to be.” Her voice had taken on a note of harshness.
“What are you going to do?” Beth asked. “I mean what else is there to do?”
“Good question. What else is there? I’m kind of at the end of my rope. What I should probably do is pack up my kid and get out before Dad comes back. Save a big row with him.”
Panic rushed through Beth. No, don’t take Adam away! She must talk to Doug, make sure there wouldn’t be a quarrel.
Kayla looked up. “Beth, bring me up to date. How did I get back here? I was with my friend Wanda, this girl I met in rehab. We hit it off from the first. I really like her. She’s smart. Independent. Nobody takes advantage of Wanda. I learned a lot from her. Did she and what’s-his-name, her boyfriend, drop me off here? The last I remember was he picked us up about a block from the rehab place. Then we sort of celebrated awhile. He had visited her, and they had set it up for her to leave. She asked me if I’d had enough of the stupid place, and I had, so she let me tag along.”
“Wanda called here last night,” Beth explained. “Actually, it was early this morning. She talked to your father and…” Beth paused. How much should she say? “It was arranged that he would come and pick you up from where they lived. I think he said the boyfriend—John Hull, I believe his name is—was staying with his parents.”
“I don’t remember that,” Kayla said vaguely. “I have these kind of blackouts.”
“Anyway,” Beth said briskly, “Doug went over to get you, and brought you home.” Adam stirred in her lap and she released her hold on him, so he slid down and ran out of the kitchen. Somehow she must keep Kayla from taking Adam and running away again. She must. But that meant Kayla must stay. She felt she was in some dark tunnel with no way out.
“So that’s how it happened,” Kayla murmured. “Was Dad very mad?”
“Disappointed,” Beth said carefully. “But when things don’t work out, it is a disappointment, of course. Then we just need to think of something else.”
Adam came running back into the kitchen holding his gold-star card from Sunday school.
“See, Mommy?” He held it up with one hand and held up four fingers with his other. “Four. Four stars.”
“That’s fine, honey. Beth, what’s he talking about?”
“I’ve been teaching him to count, and we started taking him to Sunday school. He gets a gold star every time he attends.”
Kayla looked at the card he was showing her so proudly. “Well, that’s just great. You’re a good boy,” she said, and Adam beamed up at her. His world was right again. For the moment.
Beth almost gritted her teeth. Love your child, her mind railed silently. Love your little boy. He’s starving for your love. She got up quickly from the table and went to the refrigerator, fearful that Kayla might see something in her expression. She opened the door and took out a carafe of orange juice.
“Wouldn’t you just like to drink some orange juice?” she asked.
“Actually, I think milk might be better, if you have any,” Kayla said. Beth put back the juice and took out a quart of the whole milk she had been buying for Adam. She poured out a glass and set it before Kayla. Kayla picked it up, her hand shaking slightly, and took a sip. She shivered slightly and put the glass down. “I know I should eat something,” she said dully. Then, almost grimly, she took another sip of milk.
“Cookie?” Adam asked hopefully of Beth.
She couldn’t help smiling. “Okay, but just one,” she told him. “I don’t want you to spoil your lunch. See? Look at the clock. When both hands get up here it’s time for lunch.”
She had to get out. She must call Doug. Pushing down the feeling of panic, she left the kitchen after putting Adam at the table opposite Kayla.
Upstairs, with the bedroom door shut, she dialed Doug’s cell phone. He answered almost immediately.
“Hi, love, what’s up?” He sounded anxious.
“I needed to talk to you. We’ve agreed that we’ve got to look after Adam, and I’m worried. Kayla’s up and we were talking, and she’s about to give up completely. She said something about taking Adam and leaving.”
“Oh, no! We can’t let that happen!”
Suddenly, Beth recalled something that Pastor Cooper had said to her. “Listen, I’ve just thought of something. Once at Coffee Hour at church, Pastor Cooper said something about the ‘rights’ of grandparents. I think we should follow that up, don’t you?”
“Absolutely. Much as I hate to admit it, my darling daughter is a basket case when it comes to motherhood. We’ve got to protect Adam somehow. Maybe we can go that route if we have to.”
Beth breathed a sigh of relief. At least they were in agreement on this. “I left a message on the church answering machine for him to call me, but he hasn’t yet.”
“Good idea. I think I’ll come home, too. It’s about my feeding time and, beautiful day or not, I can’t seem to keep my mind on what I’m doing. I’m using up a lot of turp rubbing out things I just painted in.”
“Come on home, then. I’ll start lunch.” She tried not to sound as hopeless as she felt.
At Beth’s urging Kayla stayed in the kitchen and ate lunch with them, but didn’t seem to have much appetite. Doug said nothing about her having left rehab again, which made Beth breathe easier. She wasn’t sure whether he did it to protect Adam from getting upset or because he wanted to wait until they had talked with Pastor Cooper. When they finished, Adam slid down from his place and wandered off. It was almost his nap time, and sometimes he was reluctant to nap when he wanted to do something else. As soon as he was gone, Kayla spoke to her father.
“Dad, I’m sorry I blew it again. I was talking to Beth a while ago. You’ve both been great, but maybe I’d better just call it quits—nothing’s working out the way I’d planned. I hate to burden you both for no reason. It’s coming on to summer. I know some people in New England who have a big lodge-type place. They cater to people who spend winters in Florida and summers on Cape Cod. I think I can get a job there. I did before. They gave me a little cottage where I could keep Adam. He’s about big enough to leave on his own when I’m working. He could play around on the beach and…stuff.” Her voice trailed off.
“He’s too little!” Beth exclaimed before she could stop herself. The idea of three-year-old Adam “playing around on the beach” by himself appalled her. Adam, without any library books he so loved. Adam, not having his card with his gold stars. Adam, picking up bits of discarded picnic food to eat. Adam, getting knocked down by a sudden wave. No. Please! Beth got up quickly and started to clear the dishes off the table. For the first time since Kayla had come she wanted to hit her, smack her across the face. No! You will not take Adam away and ruin his life!
Doug spoke, using a calm and reasonable tone. “I don’t see that working, Kayla. Not yet. He’s just too young to leave on his own. Are you drinking now? Have you had anything to drink today?”
Beth hadn’t expected him to add that. She turned from the dishwasher in surprise, to see embarrassed color rise to Kayla’s pretty face.
“You got it, Dad. Wanda’s boyfriend, that John something, when he came to pick us up, gave us each a bottle of vodka to stash in our purses. He said it was a ‘getting-out’ present.”
Doug reached out to take Kayla’s hand. “What makes you think you could make it work out this time, Kayla?” His voice was gentle, and Kayla’s eyes filled with tears.
“Well, I guess I don’t know. I guess I’m just, well, hoping.”
“Can we wait awhile on that?” he suggested.
Beth made herself keep quiet, but her mind was screaming, No, Doug. Don’t let her con you.
Kayla’s tears spilled over. “But we’ve tried, Dad. You and Beth…” She bowed her head and started to sob, then picked up her napkin and blotted at her face. “Look, I’m a mess. Can we talk about it later? I’ll go put Adam down for his nap. I could use a nap myself. Okay?”
“Okay,” Doug said. “It’s still only spring. Let’s give it a few more weeks, shall we?”
“Look,” Beth said, going back to the table. “If you want to try to work in New England this summer, what’s wrong with going ahead and trying it and leaving Adam here? Maybe later, when he’s older…” Her voice faltered. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but went on. “In a year or so he’ll need to start in preschool. I mean…” Let us keep him here awhile longer. Protect his little world until he might be better able to protect it himself. Buy Adam some time.
“Sure,” Doug said, taking his cue. “We don’t need to decide everybody’s fate this minute.”
Kayla looked from one to the other, puzzled. Then an odd look—almost sly—came and went quickly in the wet blue eyes. Beth’s heart sank. Befuddled, confused, mixed-up, Kayla had suddenly got the message that her father and his wife cared about Adam—and how could she, Kayla, use this? Kayla’s own words echoed in Beth’s mind. “We drunks usually try a con first…”
Kayla gulped and her rare smile came like sunshine. She was actually beautiful when she smiled. “You two are the greatest. Just the greatest,” she gushed. “Okay, then, I’ll go round up my kid and we’ll head for slumberland. I love you both.” Still blotting at her face, she got up from the table and fairly ran from the room.
Doug breathed a sigh of relief. “That was close. I guess my tough love effort backfired, if it makes her want to give up and leave.”
Knees suddenly weak, Beth sat down at the table. “Doug, we cannot let that happen. I couldn’t stand not knowing where Adam was, or what he was doing. And suppose she gets the job again—could she hold it? She’s mentioned that she had been fired from some jobs.”
“No,” Doug said grimly. “Kayla can’t hold a job. Did Pastor Cooper call back, by any chance?”
“Yes, he did. He said he’d stop by—didn’t know exactly when, but probably this afternoon. He had one meeting to go to, which he thought might not last too long.”
“Maybe we could talk Kayla into counseling…or something. Maybe her failures, her needs, is why he feels attracted to her. I think our pastor is one of the world’s helpers. He wants to mend all the broken people. And Kayla certainly qualifies.”
“Maybe so.” But Beth was doubtful. “If we could keep Adam for just a few years, until…” she continued uncertainly. How in the world could they salvage Adam—without Kayla? There seemed no way except— Startled at her own thought, she tried to keep her face expressionless. Unless she had been wrong about Pastor Cooper and Kayla. Suppose, just suppose— Sharply, she brought herself back to what Doug was saying.
“Yeah, maybe until Adam’s up to, well, latchkey age. An age where he can sort of…”
Where he can sort of what? Beth thought. Until maybe he’s ten and needs some help with his homework but there’s nobody there to help? Or maybe when he’s thirteen and he starts skipping school and thinking of dropping out and nobody notices? Or maybe when other kids start offering him drugs, and he learns that, on drugs, life is less painful? Buy Adam some time, but how much time is enough for a child at risk? Twenty, thirty years from now Adam, the man, will be the direct result of Adam, the child, surviving his childhood. Will he, or will he not, learn the joy of achieving by starting with his little gold stars? Will he, or will he not, stay in school and reach his potential because he had help with his homework when he needed it? Will he, or will he not, learn right from wrong because there was someone there to teach him? Somewhere in the depths of Beth’s mind there sounded the dim echo of Cyrus’s voice when he was in the hospital. “When you do it for the least of these, you do it for Me.”
Across the table Doug gave a little shiver.
“What is it?” Beth asked.
“I hate to admit it, but all of a sudden I’m scared to death.”
“Me, too,” Beth said.
The roofers came about an hour later with another load of blue tarp to cover more of the roof. Doug went out to talk to them while Beth prepared the snack she knew they would expect. When they had gone, she and Doug discussed the roof, able for a time to push away the Kayla and Adam problem.
Seated at the kitchen table, Doug handed her a sheet of paper folded over. “‘If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.’ That’s a quote from Shakespeare. Remember I used to make some speeches to curriculum committees selling school books.”
“What is it?” Beth said, taking the sheet of paper.
“It’s the roofing guys’ estimate for a new roof.”
“A new roof.” she gasped. “You mean a whole new roof?”
“A whole new roof. As he was struggling with the tarp on this lovely sunny, windy day, he said—well, I’ll clean it up a bit, since I’m speaking to a lady. He said we can’t make do much longer with patches on patches on patches. It took him more than half an hour to figure out his estimate, and he was using a calculator at the time.”
Beth unfolded the sheet and gave a low moan. “This can’t be right, Doug.”
“I’m afraid it is. That’s exactly what I said when I first saw it, and then he explained.”
“How could he explain this? It’s a fortune.”
“He did explain it. If you go out in front and look at this house—it’s a showplace. It’s a beautiful, big, elegant old home. It has large rooms. And it all had to have a roof over it. Not to mention that it’s not a nice, flat, cheap roof, but has all those ups and downs—I forget what he called them. Just those dormer windows in front alone—well, each has a tiny roof over it. Do you follow me?”
“I’m afraid I do,” she said weakly. She was remembering how much money she had just spent on Kayla’s new wardrobe and before that on the several—actually, many—things Adam had needed. How much was there left in her reserve? She’d better call the bank. That hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed about to become a permanent thing. She must not burden her sons-in-law with this.
“And you’re not going to do it alone,” Doug said, “so if that’s what you’re worried about, forget it. I’m not broke yet, you know. We’re not exactly rolling in dough, but we both have fairly good pensions, and I’m getting better and better money for my paintings.”
“Yes,” she said vaguely. For some reason that she didn’t quite understand, she wanted to—somehow—pay cash for this job, not get a renovation loan. Now, why in the world wouldn’t she want to simply get a loan? It would be easy enough. The B and B was a modest but successful business.
Then she realized why. The future was not as certain as it had been before Kayla had brought Adam into their lives. If it came to a choice between taking good care of Adam and giving up her business—it was no contest. Adam must have the time he needs. No matter what sacrifices they had to make.
Doug was looking at her keenly.
“I can make a good guess as to what you’re thinking.”
“We have to pay it all, or as much as we can, and not have a loan hanging over our heads, in case—”
“Are you sure about this?”
He reached over and took the estimate.
“Yes,” she said, her mouth feeling dry. “Call them.”
Frantic ideas darted about in her mind. Suppose Kayla got a job she liked and went away—far away—leaving Adam. Or suppose Doug was right and Kayla became a good wife to Pastor Cooper. Or suppose—somehow— Kayla was gone, and she and Doug with Adam sold out the B and B and moved into Kate’s little gray house, which was still vacant. Could she really give up her B and B? There had to be a way out of this. Some way. Dear God, if You’ve given me this job to do, tell me how.
It wasn’t until almost five o’clock that Pastor Cooper finally arrived. Kayla went into a small panic. She was at the kitchen sink, grating some carrots for a dinner salad, when the door chimes sounded. She liked Beth’s carrot, raisin and nut salad.
“Both new guests are here,” Beth said, “so that’s got to be Pastor Cooper.” She put aside the nut chopper.
“Look,” Kayla said, “you entertain Preacher-man in front, will you? I’ll go out back and get you the table flowers. Come on, Adam. Let’s duck out.”
Beth agreed. “All right, if that’s what you want. But open the basement door and call down to your father. Tell him Pastor Cooper is here.”
She had the pastor seated in the living room when Doug came up from his workshop. He looked rugged and outdoorsy in his work clothes of jeans and turtleneck sweater. No matter what Doug wore, he always managed to look imposing, Beth thought fondly.
Pastor Cooper was in a business suit and carrying a leather portfolio, and after greetings, he came right to the point. “Bessie gave me your message, Beth. What is it? How can I help?”
They told him, prompting each other, about Kayla’s latest failure. She couldn’t help but notice the quick look of sadness in his eyes.
“And what made me call you,” Beth explained, “is that we’ve kind of hit a dead end. Kayla’s just given up. And she’s feeling guilty, as if she were imposing on us.”
“Which she is, actually,” Doug interposed. “But she is my daughter, and there’s Adam to think of.”
“And she wants to leave and—and take Adam with her,” Beth said.
“And we can’t let that happen,” Doug added. “We can’t.”
“No. Of course you can’t,” Pastor Cooper said. “You both realize, don’t you, now that she’s drinking again, her personality will not be the same? If she’s sliding back into the out-of-control state there could be a lot of difficulties ahead. Addicted people tend to be users in more senses than one. They will do anything to protect their addiction.”
Beth silently agreed, remembering the sly look in Kayla’s lovely eyes when she realized their vulnerability about Adam.
Doug looked solemn. “There has been trouble in the past,” he said slowly.
“I was afraid of this,” Pastor Cooper said, leaning forward. “And I’ve done a bit of phoning, asking questions. In this state, as legal grandparents, I’m sorry, but you don’t have much clout.”
“What do you mean?” Doug asked. “She’s my daughter. Surely I have a right to protect her welfare. And my grandson’s.”
“She is an adult, Doug. You really have no control over Kayla’s actions, her behavior or her decisions. And as for Adam, he’s her son. The courts almost always rule in favor of the mother of the child. There have been Supreme Court rulings on this. But you’re not alone, if that’s any small comfort. I’ve collected all of this for you.” He unzipped the portfolio he had on his lap. “Read it at your leisure. You’ll be shocked, but I hope also encouraged somewhat. There are unsung thousands of older couples or single grandparents in this same situation. People—older people, retired people—are raising their children’s children, taking on second families to raise. It’s happening all over the country.”
“Good grief,” Beth murmured, taking the stack of leaflets, papers and one book that he held out. “It’s that bad?”
“That bad, and worse, but there are some helps along the way. Support groups, seminars, resources when things get too rough.”
“We were wondering,” Doug said tentatively, “if maybe we could talk Kayla into some sort of counseling or—” He stopped because a dull flush had risen in the pastor’s young face.
“I’ve had to decide I can help only…in a very limited way,” Pastor Cooper said slowly, obviously dragging the words out. “In addition to being a clergyman, I’m also a licensed counselor. I should be able to help but I don’t think I’m the best one to work with Kayla. I’ve…” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “I’ve thought about it and, although I’ve only met Kayla twice, I think I can see where this is going, and I’m more sorry than I can say. This has never happened to me before.” He paused again. “But the plain truth is, I’m…attracted to Kayla. She’s a lovely woman. I’m bound by certain rules, ethics, if you will. It could become an awkward situation. Please understand.”
“But Pastor Cooper,” Beth said in dismay, “what are we going to do?” The question burst out.
“I’m sorry. I have no idea,” he said bleakly.