Then the doorbell rang. Angela breathed a sigh of relief; Nathan groaned quietly, then went to answer the door. Maybe Adam was different, she thought. The possibility existed, didn’t it? Otherwise, what was the point in trying?
“Hi, Nathan.” She heard Adam’s familiar voice greet her less-than-enthusiastic son. This would be trying for Nathan. There was no doubt about that. He was a sensitive kid who had taken the idea of being “man of the house” too seriously, for too long. He’d seen more clearly than his siblings the effect his father’s problem with alcohol had had on the family, and he’d probably be suspicious of any possible intrusion on their now-pleasant home life. For that matter, so was Angela. So what was she going to do about this man standing in the middle of her living room?
“Hi,” she said as she came forward to greet Adam. “Ready for a cookout?” She thought she detected a slight ready-as-I’ll-ever-be set to his expression.
“Guess so. Want me to carry anything to the van?”
“I already took care of that,” Nathan interjected and grabbed his school jacket from a hook by the door. “I’ll tell the others it’s time to go.” He exited without further comment.
They both watched him go; then Adam looked back at Angela. “This is difficult for him,” he commented.
She nodded. “He’ll feel better once we’re there and he sees his friends,” she replied.
There was silence between them for an awkward moment. Then Adam spoke. “I brought a case of soda and put it in your van. I thought I should contribute something to this outing.”
“The kids will like it. I’m taking potato salad, baked beans and some cookies I bought at the bakery. Mom is bringing a cake, a relish tray and iced tea. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of everything. We always do,” she explained with a smile. “If there’s anything our church excels at, it’s carry-in dinners. We like to eat.”
Adam grinned. “You’ve changed your hair.”
“Just a little,” she said, thinking how much she liked his easy smile. “It was overdue for a cut, and I can’t stand my bangs down around my eyes.” She reached for her car keys on the nearby end table and, amazingly for a change, they were actually where she’d left them.
“It looks good,” Adam complimented as he opened the door for her, realizing the remark about her hair seemed lackluster, but he couldn’t tell her how pretty he thought she was. In jeans and a plain shirt, in a skirt and a jacket, in whatever she chose to wear. That might be too much too soon. It would be the absolute truth, but she probably wouldn’t believe him. And he needed her to believe him. Now, and later. “You look great every time I see you.”
Angela cocked her head to the side, eyeing him with skepticism. “Especially with a runny nose and wearing that old sweat suit I had on the first night we spoke.”
“Yes, well—” he remembered that encounter with clarity “—you looked very…”
“Very?” she said, knowing he was struggling for a descriptive, but safe, word. “I’m waiting.”
“I’m thinking,” Adam replied with a smile. “Can I say ‘motherly’? ‘Cautious’? ‘Protective’ maybe?”
“Nope,” she answered as she walked toward and then past him. “You could say ‘awful.’” He was close enough to touch, and Angela was fighting the urge to do exactly that when Adam extended an arm, clasping her hand warmly in his own.
“How about ‘cute’?” he suggested.
“Sorry, but ‘cute’ is not acceptable at thirty-two,” she replied, holding tightly to the strong hand she had welcomed.
“Then let’s go with ‘promising,’” he said, with a gentle squeeze to her fingers.
Promising. What a lovely thought. But she didn’t dare say that. Not to this man she knew so little about. “I wasn’t sure you’d come today,” she admitted suddenly.
“Why?” he asked, studying the contemplative blue of her eyes. “I told you I’d be here at three.”
“I know, but…” How could she tell him the reasons behind her doubts? Did she really want to explain the years with Dan?
“You can’t tell me you’ve had that happen with many dates before. Being stood up,” he added as they stepped outside into the sunshine and made their way toward the van. The children were already climbing in.
No, she thought, the problem had never been with a date. It was only when matrimony entered the story line that keeping commitments had become an issue. Marriage and responsibility had not sat well with her husband, and she had grown to expect broken promises. “I guess I’m just pessimistic by nature.” And experience.
“Maybe that can be changed,” he suggested.
Maybe it could, but at this point in her life, Angela had her doubts.
“Is the truck okay parked off to the side like that?” Adam asked. “I knew we’d need to take your van.”
She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun. “That’s fine.” Then she held up her keys. “But would you mind doing the driving?”
He opened the passenger door for her. “Not at all.” He let go of her hand, and she climbed in.
“You ready, kids?” she asked, glancing back at two excited faces—and Nathan’s frown.
“It’s about a mile farther down this road. Then make the next left” They were nearing their destination as Heather asked for the third time how long this trip would last
“Just a few minutes more, hon. Are you getting hungry?” Angela inquired.
“No, but I want to play ball. My Sunday School teacher told me we would.”
“If Mrs. Fletcher told you that, then I’m sure you will,” Angela responded with a certainty about another human being that she rarely displayed. She glanced at Adam, and wondered if she’d ever be able to trust him that way. What a refreshing possibility.
What she couldn’t know was that Adam was wondering the same thing. Only he suspected that earning her trust now would require more truth from him than he was ready to reveal. And what did the Lord require from him so early in this relationship? Honesty, he knew, but in how large a dose at a time?
Soon they arrived and parked in the gravel alongside her parents’ car. Judging from the vehicles already there, it was a good turnout, as usual. Adam helped Angela unload the items she had brought, as well as the case of soda he had placed in her van. Before long, the kids were engaged in a softball game and it was time for Adam to meet Angela’s parents.
“Mom. Dad. This is Adam Dalton,” Angela introduced her date. She had advised them earlier of this impending meeting.
Smiles from Grace and Ed Granston did little to ease the tension of the moment. No man would easily receive the approval of this older couple where their daughter was concerned. Angela was no kid, but she would always be their child. Exactly who was this Adam Dalton who threatened their daughter’s freedom and peace of mind in the wake of her unhappy marriage? They both prayed Angela would find a loving man and marry again someday—but the right man.
“Hello, Adam.” Grace spoke first, but Ed did extend a hand in an almost friendly fashion. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“It’s