Once we were back at the little house after rehearsal, Red began to fry up some potatoes and sausage, throwing in hot peppers. I stood beside him,

watching.

"That's what Brian does when he's doing the cooking," I said.

"When are you goin' to make some of those lemon bars you were talking about?" Red asked me.

"I can do it tomorrow," I offered. "If Daniel bought all the ingredients. Did you, Daniel?" I asked him.

"If you put it on the list, then I got it," Daniel said, coming over to the stove, and snitching a piece of sausage from the skillet.

"I'll make them in the morning," I promised Red.

"Good deal," he said, and grinned at me.

When it came time to eat, though, I couldn't muster up much of an appetite. My mind was running possible conversations with Crane thru

my head. And Hannah. My mind didn't even want to go there.

"My cooking's not that bad, is it?" Red asked me.

"No. It's good," I told him, and took another bite of potatoes. "It's just, I'm thinking about what to say to Crane."

"Crane's a good man. He's not gonna snarl at you, is he?" Red asked.

I shot a look at Daniel. "I don't think he will. It's just-with Crane, if he's disappointed, that's worse than having him be angry."

Red looked sympathetic, and stood up, to begin clearing the table.

Daniel got up, too, helping stack the dishes. I was still sitting there, moving my potatoes from side to side on my plate. Daniel paused

beside my chair. "Are you finished, or do you want to keep pushing those around for awhile?"

He was teasing, I knew, but I didn't feel like smiling right then.

"I'm done," I said.

Daniel took my plate and set it with the others on the counter. While I still sat there, he gave my shoulder a light poke.

"Come on," he told me, and headed towards the living room.

I sighed and got up, following him.

"Will you dial and get Crane on the phone first?" I asked him. I didn't want to take the chance on anybody else answering.

"Yeah, I will."

I sat down on the edge of the couch nearest to the phone, and watched while Daniel dialed, and then listened while he

said, "Hey," to whoever answered.

"She's good," he said then, and I wondered who was asking about me.

I got my answer when he turned to me, and said, "Clare says hello."

"Tell her hello back," I said, feeling my stomach begin to do somersaults.

"Harlie says hello to you." There was a pause, and then, "I'll tell her," Daniel said. "Hey, can you get Crane for me, please?"

While he waited for Clare to go fetch Crane, Daniel told me, "Clare says she misses you."

There was nothing to say to that. I felt tears rising to the surface, and I tried shoving them back.

Then Daniel's voice brightened, when he said, "Hey, bro."

There was conversation on the other end, while Daniel listened, and then he said, "Okay. Let me check."

I wondered what he was talking about, but at that point I couldn't rally much curiousity.

Then after a little more talking between Daniel and Crane, Daniel said, "Harlie's sitting here. You wanna talk to her?"

Then he held out the phone receiver to me. I stood up, and went to take it from his hand.

Daniel gave me a look somewhere between sympathy and stern, and went back to the kitchen.

I put the receiver to my ear, and after a moment of silence, I realized that I would have to speak first, since Crane didn't know

that I was on the line.

"Hello, Crane," I said.

"Hello, yourself," he answered.

"How're you?" I asked, lamely.

"I'm doing alright. How are you?"

"Alright," I said, and then subsided into silence. I didn't know what to say.

"I'm sure glad to talk to you," he said.

I wanted to be able to tell him the same, but I wasn't so sure that I was glad. But I wasn't exactly unglad, either.

I hesitated a moment. Then I took the plunge. "I'm sorry for what I did, Crane."

I heard him sigh. "I know you are."

That he should so readily believe that, well, that made me choke up.

"You believe me?" I asked, feeling emotional.

"I believe you. I can tell you are, by the tone of your voice. And Daniel's told me that you've been doing some reflecting, and thinking."

"I have," I said.

"Well, then, there's no way to go but onward."

First Daniel, then Brian, and now Crane. All accepting of my apologies, and my regret. Well, even Ford and Guthrie, when I'd talked to them.

Five down. Two to go. The toughest two. Adam and Evan. I wasn't at all certain about either one of them.

"How is everybody at home?" I asked, nervously.

"Doing alright. Busy as always."

"The baby's good?" I asked.

"Fine as can be. Smiling all the time."

"That's good." I hesitated. "How's Adam?"

There was a slight pause on Crane's end. "Adam's alright. He's hurting."

My eyes filled with tears, and I couldn't talk for a moment or two.

"Harlie? You still there?" he asked.

"Yes," I managed, and I knew that Crane could tell that I was gearing up to cry.

"You need to talk to him," Crane said, into the small silence.

"I know."

"He's not in the house right now. I can tell him you'll call later."

Wait. This was going too fast. "Why hasn't he called me?" I asked, sort of plaintively, and I knew I sounded like a baby. "Is it because he's

too upset with me?" Actually, I'd sort of wondered all along why Adam hadn't been on the telephone the very first moment that he'd found out

where I was, hollering thru the phone line at me.

"I think it's more along the lines of giving you your space. Letting you be with Daniel. And, too, he needed time. You shook up the

whole house, Harlie. I think he needed to think about what he wanted to say to you."

"Meaning he was so mad that he didn't want to talk to me," I said, glumly.

"That's not what I said," Crane corrected. "What I meant was exactly what I just said to you. Don't put your own pity spin on it."

His voice was firm. Almost stern.

I gathered myself together. "Okay. I get it."

There was a couple of moments of silence again.

"Do you want me to tell him you'll call tonight?" he asked.

"I was supposed to go with Daniel-" I began, and then I stopped. "Yeah. You can tell him I'll call."

"What time?"

"I guess when he comes in for supper. So about five-thirty there? It'd be seven-thirty here."

"Alright. I'll tell him," Crane promised.

"Okay," I said, and then fell silent.

"I hear you've been practicing a lot of piano," Crane said.

"Yeah. A little every day."

"That's good."

I braved a question. "Is Adam going to even want to talk to me, though?"

"Harlie."

"Well, I mean-"

"He's going to want to," Crane said firmly.

"Okay."

"Alright. I better get back out to work," Crane said.

"Okay," I echoed.

"Don't make Daniel go gray-headed, alright?" he said. "Bye."

"Bye."

He'd hung up before I remembered that I was supposed to have talked to Hannah, too.

7

I stood there for a minute, pulling myself together a little, and then I went to the kitchen, where Daniel and Red were cleaning up.

"Need help?" I asked them.

"We're done, little darlin'," Red told me. "I'm gonna grab a shower and get dressed."

When he'd gone, Daniel turned from where he was wiping down the kitchen counter with a dishcloth.

"How'd it go?" he asked me.

"Good." Then, before he could ask me about it, I said, "I didn't talk to Hannah. I didn't tell Crane, and he hung up before I remembered."

"Okay. Maybe later, huh?"

"Uh huh," I said, and then said, "I don't think I'll go with you tonight, to the show."

"How come? You have a headache?" he asked, looking concerned.

"No. I'm gonna call home again later. To talk to Adam."

I'd surprised him with those last four words, I could tell.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking pleased.

"Yeah."

Daniel put the dishcloth down, and came over to where I stood in the doorway. He put his hand on the back of my head, and pulled

me closer so he could kiss the top of my head. When he leaned back up, his eyes were full of emotion.

"That's my girl," he said.

7

I was quiet, and subdued, when Daniel and Red were getting around to leave for the club. I was sitting at the piano, playing

something from memory.

"What's that piece?" Daniel said, coming down the hall from the bathroom, and carrying his boots.

"Um, I think Skater's Waltz."

"It's good. I like it," he said.

"Thanks," I said, twisting on the piano bench to face him.

Daniel pulled on his boots, and then said, "Lock up."

"I will," I promised.

He came over to where I sat, and tugged me to my feet, looping his arms over my shoulders.

"I'm proud of you," he said.

"Even though I'm a big chicken?" I asked, only half-joking.

"Even though. You're gonna feel a hundred percent better after it's done."

I wasn't at all sure that was true, but I knew Daniel expected me to be positive, so I nodded. "Okay."

"I speak from experience," he said. "There were a couple of times, well, more than a couple, that I put off talkin' to Adam

about something that I should have carried to him right away. It always got a lot worse the longer I waited."

I nodded again in agreement.

After Daniel had gone, I slid the lock into place on the door, and went to take a hot shower. I still had over an hour before I was supposed to

call.

I mixed up the lemon bars, and then sat down for a few minutes at the piano again, trying another piece of sheet music. This one was

more difficult, and I stumbled over the notes several times.

When it was near to seven-fifteen, I closed the piano lid, and went to sit beside the telephone. I began to picture in my mind what

would be happening at this moment at home. Hannah, and maybe Clare, too, would be getting supper on the table, and one of the guys

would more than likely be setting the table. Somebody else would be holding Isaac, unless he was napping. They would all be inside

from doing the chores, and washing up at the sink. They would be talking about what work needed to be done the next day, and what minor

or major things that needed to be repaired. Guthrie would be snitching something from the food as soon as it was set down. Gus and Clarence

and the other two dogs would be sitting right outside the back door, hoping that somebody would throw something out to them.

Everybody would be talking all at the same time, and Brian and Clare would be giving each other a kiss before they sat down to eat.

My heart tightened in pain. True physical pain. It was nearly overwhelming. I got up and went to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth with

cold water, and patting my face with it.

When I went back to the living room, I sat down in the same chair again, looking at the clock. Seven thirty-five. I counted backwards from fifty, telling myself that when

I reached zero I would dial the number.

I picked up the receiver, and dialed the number slowly. It rang once. Twice. And then it was picked up. He must have been sitting

really near to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Adam," I said, quietly.

I thought I heard him sigh. "Hi," and his voice was quiet, too.

"Did Crane tell you I was going to call?" I asked, and immediately realized it was an idiotic question. Of course Crane had told him.

"He told me." There was a moment's hesitation, and then he said, "How're you feeling? Any problems with your blood sugar?"

The first thing he had to say to me, and it was about me, and how I was feeling, and if I was alright. I felt so ashamed suddenly of what

I'd done, that I didn't think I could answer.

I squeezed my eyes shut, determined not to cry. At least not this early in the conversation. Which of course I didn't succeed at.

"No problems with it," I managed. "A couple of headaches. That's all."

"That's good."

"I'm sorry for hurting you!" I burst out, and began to cry.

For a couple of minutes at least, I cried, and he didn't say anything at first.

"Settle down," he said, finally.

"I thought about myself," I managed, "I didn't think about how it would hurt you-"

"What did you think I'd say?" he asked, sounding irritated.

"I don't know," I wailed. "I thought you'd be mad, but that maybe talking to Daniel would help me. I didn't even think about how I'd get home, or any

of that!"

In between the crying, and the pauses, Adam said, again, "Settle down."

"It's just hard to talk to you-when you're so far away," I said, swiping at my face.

"It's not easy for me, either," Adam said. "Go blow your nose."

It was such an 'Adam' thing to say, so caringly 'paternal', that I began to cry even harder.

"Why don't you hang up, pull it together a little, and then call me back?" he suggested.

My heart plummeted. Now that I had him on the phone, and was actually having a conversation, or the semblance of a conversation, with him, I

didn't want to let him go.

"No, Adam, please! I'll stop crying! Please don't hang up!" I pleaded.

I heard him sigh. "I'm not gonna hang up."

I concentrated on getting myself under control. When I'd tapered off with the crying, I said, "I'm going to get a Kleenex. You'll wait, right?"

"Yes, Harlie, I'll wait."

I ran to get the Kleenex box from the coffee table. It was empty. I went to the bathroom, searching in the cabinet for more boxes. Not finding any, I

wound up some toilet tissue and began to mop at my face with it, and then blew my nose.

I went back to pick up the phone again, a little more in control.

"I'm back," I said, quietly.

"Alright. I'm gonna say a couple of things. So listen to me, alright?" he said.

"Yes."

"You did the wrong thing. Running away isn't the way to solve anything. You could have gotten hurt, it was a terrible risk to take."

"Yes," I mumbled.

He went on as though I hadn't said anything. "It hit me like a ton of bricks. That you were so desparate that you even thought about

doing something like that."

He paused, and then asked, "You were feelin' desparate, is that the right way to say it?"

"Yeah," I said honestly.

"Well, that tears me up. It does. I can't even describe how it makes me feel."

"That's what I feel the worst about! Making you feel like that inside!" I said.

"I'd ask you why you didn't come to me, or to Brian, or anybody, but from what I understand, you tried talkin' to just about

every one of us at one time or another, about how you were feelin'. Is that right?"

"Yeah. But it wasn't you all's fault," I defended.

"It wasn't our fault you took off, no. That was your decision, and it wasn't a good one. But brushing you off when you tried to talk to us,

to me, just telling you not to worry, well that part was my fault."

At that moment, I realized that Adam defined what a real man was. Strong. Decisive. With the desire to protect, and defend. But also with the ability to

own up to his own shortcomings.

"Guthrie says you told him you were at the end of your rope, that you couldn't take much more," he said.

"Yeah. But Guthrie didn't know what to say-" I defended.

"No. He didn't."

"What's going to happen with the custody thing?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. I talk to John almost every day."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I do," he said.

"I don't want to go live with her, Adam," I burst out.

"I know you don't."

"I wish I'd told you from the beginning about Karissa. Then all of this wouldn't have happened!"

"Knowing her, I don't know how things would have gone, she's so unpredictable," he said. "But you should have told me from the

beginning, yeah."

"A leopard can't change their spots," I said quietly.

"What?" he asked.

"That's what Brian says. A leopard can't change their spots," I explained.

"Hmm. Well, maybe so."

"What can I do, Adam?" I asked, feeling tears prick at my eyes again.

He didn't have to ask what I meant. He knew.

"You can come home, and work hard to build up trust again. You can show everybody that you learned something from

all of this. You can be truthful, and the next time you come to me, and it doesn't seem as though I'm really listening, you can

call me out on it."

I had to smile a little at that. "Okay."

"Okay," he echoed.

There was a small silence. But it wasn't horrible.

"Daniel was really mad at me when I got here," I ventured.

"I know he was."

"I've never seen him like that before."

"Well, you put him in a rough spot," Adam said. "Have you thought about that?"

"No," I admitted. "I guess I really haven't."

"Daniel would just as rather have cut off his hand as have to spank you like that," Adam said. "He did what was right, not what was

easy."

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, willing back the tears.

When I didn't answer, Adam said, "Harlie? Did you hear me?"

"Yes," I said, almost in a whisper.

"Alright." There was a momentary pause, and then he said, "Getting ready for bed?"

"Yeah. It's been a long day. I'll probably do my shot and go to bed to read awhile. Daniel took me to the library today."

"Nice library?" he asked, in conversation.

"Yes. Really big," I hesitated and then asked, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah. You can."

"What's your punishment for me when I get home?" I asked it in a rush, feeling anxious.

"I'm still thinking about that. I'd say you can count on being grounded indefinitely for one thing."

"Oh," I said, in a small voice.

"We're gonna have a lot of talking to do once you're home," he said. "I've got a few things I want to say to you that I'm not

going to say over the telephone."

"Okay," I said, feeling my stomach jump with nerves again.

"Is Guthrie okay? And Isaac?" I asked, into the next quiet spot in the conversation.

"Baby's good. Guthrie's missin' you."

"I miss him, too," I said, with feeling. I wanted to ask about Evan, and if he'd said anything about me, or voiced his disgust at the situation, but

I couldn't work up enough nerve. I didn't really want to hear the answer, I guess.

I heard Adam turn from the phone to talk to somebody in the room, and then he spoke again into the phone.

"I'm gonna go now. We've got to eat and get back out to doctor a calf."

"What's wrong with the calf?" I asked.

"The mama's not taking to feeding him. We've been trying to bottle feed, and he's just not too interested."

"Oh. I hope he starts eating," I said.

"He'll make it," Adam said, with certainty.

"I hope so." Then, in a rush I asked, "When am I gonna come home?"

"I think we're shooting for Sunday."

"Are you coming?" I asked him.

"If Daniel can work it out with his job, he's gonna bring you, and stay for a few days."

I felt better than I had in days right then. "Okay." I was reluctant to hang up from him.

"I love you, Adam," I said, so softly that I wasn't sure he would hear me.

But he did.

"I love you. Never-ending. Got it?"

"Yes," I said, tears filling my eyes again.

"Night."

"Goodnight," I echoed, and the phone clicked as he hung up.

7