would give her the land as a surprise. More fool he.
After yesterday, of course, that dream was officially deflated. And last night, as he’d whiled away the hours with his dear friend Jim Beam, it had seemed like just another empty plot of land on a vast planet, devoid of human kindness. With drunken wisdom he had decided that he would sell the land, take whatever money he could, and seek out a new place to live, far away from his murdered hopes and decaying dreams.
But having seen the place for himself, having smelled the air and felt the earth under his feet…well, things were different. Much different. There was something rarified about this place, something lush and almost holy. It gave him the feeling he had managed to journey out of the present and into the future. His future. And with a little work, it could still be a happy one.
“Hollin Hills,” he whispered to himself. A smile spread over his face. “Welcome home.”
C HAPTER E IGHT
O N M ONDAY MORNING, A DAM AWOKE WITH the sun. All trace of his hangover had gone, and with it went the last vestiges of his bad mood. He felt the way he’d felt when he was first starting out in the service, approaching a new engineering project with energy, curiosity, and a healthy dose of fear that always eventually succumbed to the “can-do” attitude of the Seabees.
The difficult we do at once. The impossible takes a bit longer.
Not wanting to bother with city parking, Adam took the streetcar downtown and found Robert Davenport’s office building with little trouble. The lobby was smallish and floored in tiny white tiles, with a Roman key pattern in black around the edges. There was an elevator on his right, enclosed by an old-fashioned gate, with a wide staircase next to it. He opted for the stairs, trotting up the four flights just to see if his heart could take it. It did. The office doors were dark wood with pebbled glass inserts. He stopped at the one labeled 408, knocked, and then opened the door.
He found himself in a reception office, complete with a sofa, chairs, and cocktail table. A secretary’s desk was behind a low railing, and in back of that were several doors that most likely led to other offices. There was no one in sight, but a steaming cup of coffee on the desk blotter told him that someone was around. While he waited, Adam looked at the framed photos hanging on the wall, twirling his hat on his finger. They were all pictures of homes in various stages of development. He paused before a house that looked much like the ones they were building in Hollin Hills. His adrenaline began to rise.
One of the doors behind the desk opened, and a pretty girl with freckles came out, carrying a stack of files. When she saw Adam, she smiled. “Oh, hello. You must be Mr. Balentine.” She dropped the files on her desk and came through the little wooden gate to greet him.
“Adam,” he replied, holding out his hand.
She shook it. Her grip was surprisingly firm. “I’m Midge Geddes, Robert Davenport’s secretary. Mr. Davenport is out of town this week — I think Ray mentioned that to you?”
Ray Ferguson was the man who had hired Adam. “Yes. Ray said that he’d get me started, show me the ropes.”
“He’s just stepped out, but he’ll be back in a moment. Won’t you sit down?”
Adam sat on the pebbly gray sofa and accepted the cup of coffee that Midge handed him. She sat down one of the armchairs and crossed her legs, clasping her hands over her knee. She was a little gamine of a gal, with a pert nose and sandy hair cut square along her jaw.
“We’re very excited to have you join us, Adam.”
“Is that right?” He blew on his coffee.
“Oh yes. I mean, even aside from your qualifications, Senator Burgess has been singing your praises for months. I think Davenport might have found himself in front of a Congressional committee if he hadn’t hired you!”
Adam straightened his tie, feeling a bit uneasy. “The Senator’s been very good to
After yesterday, of course, that dream was officially deflated. And last night, as he’d whiled away the hours with his dear friend Jim Beam, it had seemed like just another empty plot of land on a vast planet, devoid of human kindness. With drunken wisdom he had decided that he would sell the land, take whatever money he could, and seek out a new place to live, far away from his murdered hopes and decaying dreams.
But having seen the place for himself, having smelled the air and felt the earth under his feet…well, things were different. Much different. There was something rarified about this place, something lush and almost holy. It gave him the feeling he had managed to journey out of the present and into the future. His future. And with a little work, it could still be a happy one.
“Hollin Hills,” he whispered to himself. A smile spread over his face. “Welcome home.”
C HAPTER E IGHT
O N M ONDAY MORNING, A DAM AWOKE WITH the sun. All trace of his hangover had gone, and with it went the last vestiges of his bad mood. He felt the way he’d felt when he was first starting out in the service, approaching a new engineering project with energy, curiosity, and a healthy dose of fear that always eventually succumbed to the “can-do” attitude of the Seabees.
The difficult we do at once. The impossible takes a bit longer.
Not wanting to bother with city parking, Adam took the streetcar downtown and found Robert Davenport’s office building with little trouble. The lobby was smallish and floored in tiny white tiles, with a Roman key pattern in black around the edges. There was an elevator on his right, enclosed by an old-fashioned gate, with a wide staircase next to it. He opted for the stairs, trotting up the four flights just to see if his heart could take it. It did. The office doors were dark wood with pebbled glass inserts. He stopped at the one labeled 408, knocked, and then opened the door.
He found himself in a reception office, complete with a sofa, chairs, and cocktail table. A secretary’s desk was behind a low railing, and in back of that were several doors that most likely led to other offices. There was no one in sight, but a steaming cup of coffee on the desk blotter told him that someone was around. While he waited, Adam looked at the framed photos hanging on the wall, twirling his hat on his finger. They were all pictures of homes in various stages of development. He paused before a house that looked much like the ones they were building in Hollin Hills. His adrenaline began to rise.
One of the doors behind the desk opened, and a pretty girl with freckles came out, carrying a stack of files. When she saw Adam, she smiled. “Oh, hello. You must be Mr. Balentine.” She dropped the files on her desk and came through the little wooden gate to greet him.
“Adam,” he replied, holding out his hand.
She shook it. Her grip was surprisingly firm. “I’m Midge Geddes, Robert Davenport’s secretary. Mr. Davenport is out of town this week — I think Ray mentioned that to you?”
Ray Ferguson was the man who had hired Adam. “Yes. Ray said that he’d get me started, show me the ropes.”
“He’s just stepped out, but he’ll be back in a moment. Won’t you sit down?”
Adam sat on the pebbly gray sofa and accepted the cup of coffee that Midge handed him. She sat down one of the armchairs and crossed her legs, clasping her hands over her knee. She was a little gamine of a gal, with a pert nose and sandy hair cut square along her jaw.
“We’re very excited to have you join us, Adam.”
“Is that right?” He blew on his coffee.
“Oh yes. I mean, even aside from your qualifications, Senator Burgess has been singing your praises for months. I think Davenport might have found himself in front of a Congressional committee if he hadn’t hired you!”
Adam straightened his tie, feeling a bit uneasy. “The Senator’s been very good to
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