“Kate.” He extends a hand, shaking first mine and then Alex’s. His smile is warm, his eyes friendly. “It’s good to meet you both.”
“Thank you for inviting us to your home, Dr. Hendricks,” I say.
“Please, call me William. Thank you for accepting.” He reaches for the shopping bag I’m carrying. “May I?”
We load everything in his car while he asks how our flight was. Alex replies with a vague answer, not mentioning that we came by private plane. As William helps my mom into the passenger seat of his car, he tells us about the local attractions in the nearby Smoky Mountains in case we decide to return in the summer.
He looks up when Alex’s guards get into their cars, but he refrains from asking questions as Alex and I head to our car. Mom must’ve already briefed him about Alex’s so-called protocol.
William’s vehicle takes the lead, and we follow. I look around as we exit the clinic grounds. Where are the men watching out for my mom? Alex said she wouldn’t even know they were there. Are they hiding out somewhere in a nearby cabin, or are they keeping tabs on her via satellite? Maybe both.
We take a road that snakes up the mountain. From there, the drive only takes fifteen minutes. William’s house is a modern structure situated on an outcrop with a view of the lake and the mountains. While my mom unpacks the grocery bags, he takes Alex and me on a tour. The house is small, but the rooms are spacious and the minimalistic furnishings create an unobstructed flow between the living area, dining room, and kitchen. Two upstairs bedrooms share a bathroom and balcony. My favorite part is the outside terrace that overhangs the slope.
We stop at the rail to admire the view. Alex leans one elbow on the rail and drapes his other arm around my waist. As always, his closeness seduces my senses, making everything else seem insignificant. Not even the view can compete with him, although the vista is magnificent.
“This is spectacular,” I say.
“I’m glad you like it,” William replies. “I had the house built five years ago when I moved here from Oakland.”
Alex casts a practiced glance toward the horizon, his blue eyes alert as he takes in the surroundings. Seemingly satisfied with his visual evaluation, he checks his phone before saying, “I’ll go check if Laura needs help in the kitchen.”
“Kate?” William says when Alex is gone.
I abandon the vista to look at him.
“I want you to know that you have nothing to be worried about where your mom is concerned. We like each other.” A smile appears on his lips. “A lot. I love her optimism and her zest for life. She’s an amazing woman. I also realize she’s a bit of a free spirit, so I have no intention of rushing her into anything.”
He seems so sincere I can’t help but believe him. “That’s good to know.”
“When I take my vacation this summer, I’d like to visit her in New York City. I was hoping we”—he waves between us—“me and you, could also get to know each other better. I know you’re busy. Your mom has told me about your job.”
I return his smile. “I’d like that.”
“Great.” He utters a soft laugh. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, like I’m rushing things when I said I wouldn’t, but my kids will be in Florida. Maybe we can all go down there and spend a weekend together? I’d love for both you and your mom to meet them. And Alex, of course.”
Brushing the windblown wisps of hair off my face, I say, “I’ll keep that in mind when I plan my summer shifts.” That is, if I’m back at work by then. “I’m sure I can finagle a long weekend.”
“Wonderful.” He raps the rail. “Shall we go inside where it’s warm?”
When we get back to the kitchen, my mom and Alex have finished unpacking the bags.
“What do you think?” she asks under her breath as William pours us organic grape juice while Alex keeps him company.
“He seems really nice,” I say sincerely.
She’s all but glowing. “I knew you’d like him.”
“Here you go,” William says, handing us each a glass of juice. “Homemade from Californian grapes.”
We spend an agreeable half hour together, sipping our drinks in the kitchen while we warm up Tima’s dishes and William adds the finishing touches to the ones he prepared. I listen attentively as he tells me about the program and its development. On a personal level, everything regarding Mom’s welfare concerns me, and on a professional level, I find the medical information fascinating.
Our lunch stretches well into the afternoon. It’s dusk when we finally thank William, say our goodbyes, and drive back.
Despite the amiable afternoon, I can’t shake my tenseness when we arrive at the clinic. Knowing me as well as she does, my mom picks up on it.