Читать книгу The Redemption Of Lillie Rourke - Loree Lough - Страница 13

CHAPTER THREE

“THERE SHE GOES AGAIN,” Molly said, “with her ‘back in the old days’ reference.”

Since returning home, that was how Lillie referred to her life before the accident. The phrase inspired relentless teasing from her siblings—a whole lot easier to bear than the standoffish behavior they’d displayed prior to the repayment of every dollar borrowed and stolen—and her heartfelt apologies.

In response to her sister’s latest dig, Lillie said, “At least I didn’t commit marital alliteration. Matt and Molly, I mean really.”

“Marital alliteration?” Her brother reared back with mock surprise. “She dragged the dictionary out for that one, and much as I hate to admit it, she’s right!”

Arms crossed, Molly huffed. “You’re a fine one to talk, Sam, marrying a girl with the same name.”

Liam’s laughter filled the sunny yard as his wife said, “All right you guys, if you want to eat later, get back to work!”

The construction crew had completed the exterior work and moved inside to put the finishing touches on the kitchen addition. That left the outside clear for Lillie’s family to work on. Plants that had grown in beds around the old porch now stood in lopsided plastic pots along the back fence.

“Lillie, would you mind going around front to tend the rose garden? I know the crew tried to be careful, but they made a huge mess out there. You have the magic touch, maybe you can save them.”

Lillie grabbed a shovel, a trowel and her garden gloves. “Happy to, Mom.” And she meant it. Working out front would allow her to contribute to the cleanup project while ignoring the occasional sidelong glance or raised eyebrow, proof the family wasn’t entirely convinced of her trustworthiness.

After fertilizing and replanting several rose shrubs, Lillie decided to form a border around the bed by moving dozens of marigolds and zinnias from the side yard. Standing back, she gave her work an admiring nod. “Not bad if I do say so myself,” she said.

“Self-confidence looks good on you.”

Startled, she spun quickly around, nearly losing her balance. If Jase hadn’t grabbed both biceps, Lillie would have landed on the spade’s sharp blade. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d stood so close.

Blue eyes boring into hers, he said, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He turned her loose and took a step back, and she saw she’d left muddy handprints on his white shirt.

She removed her right glove and made a half-baked attempt to brush away the dirt. Sadly, it only made the mess worse. “Omigarsh. Look what I’ve done. I’m so sorry. And this looks like a freshly pressed shirt, too.” And his jeans were dark, making him appear taller and slimmer than she remembered.

“It’s okay. Couple squirts with some stain remover and it’ll be good as new.”

He pointed at the flowers. “Nice job. You always did have an artistic eye. And a gift for stuff like this.”

“Thanks.” Just as she had weeks ago outside the Flower Basket, Lillie struggled for the right words. But what could she say? She’d promised to call him and hadn’t. Would he see that as proof she was still untrustworthy?

“Guess your dad doesn’t have my number after all.”

So, his mindreading talents hadn’t faltered while she’d been in New York.

“He probably does, but to tell the truth, I never asked for it. I’ve been working a lot of extra hours, waiting tables and clerking at the hotel up the street. Unfortunately, I’m still a couple hundred dollars short of what I owe you.”

His Orioles cap shaded the upper half of his handsome face, but not enough to hide his furrowed brow.

“You don’t owe me anything, Lill. Really.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I do. If you’d like, I can write you a check right now, and pay the rest just as soon as I’ve earned it.”

Feet planted shoulder-width apart and arms crossed over his broad chest, he studied her. Because he hadn’t answered any of his questions? Or because of what she still owed him?

“Two jobs. In addition to helping out around here. When do you sleep?”

In fits and starts, she thought. A guilty conscience will do that to a gal.

She considered joking her way through a response, when he asked, “You have wheels?”

“I borrow Mom’s car when I need to drive someplace.”

“That’s gotta be tough on somebody like you.”

Somebody like her? This whole conversation felt forced. Stilted. Uncomfortable. Good as it was to see him again, she wished he’d just leave.

“What I mean is, you used to be so independent.”

Used to be, as in, before you became an out-of-control, thieving drug addict.

“So you’re walking to and from your jobs?”

“Unless it’s pouring rain. I’d walk then, too, if Mom didn’t insist that I drive.”

“Uh-huh.”

She wished he’d yell at her. Curse at her. Give her a stern talking-to. Anything was preferable to this oh-so-calm stoic demeanor that told her he didn’t care enough to let anything she did rile him. Right now, Lillie wished she’d spent a lot more time talking with her therapist about her feelings for Jase. Seeing him at the flower shop had rocked her, but not nearly as much as standing mere feet from him.

“So, which restaurant?”

“The Sip & Bite.”

“And I’m guessing since you’re hoofing it, you’re clerking at the inn at Henderson’s Wharf?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Why did he care? He didn’t love her anymore. The way you still—

“Why not wait tables in their restaurant?”

“There weren’t any openings when I applied. Besides, I can pretty much choose my schedule at the Sip & Bite. And the tips are great.”

Jase’s brows drew together. “Do you ever miss being onstage, singing?”

“I’ll say. It’s one of the reasons I started volunteering at Hopkins’ Children’s Oncology. Some days I sing to the kids, other days I paint faces.”

He thumbed his cap back, causing some of his shining black hair to fall forward, hiding one eyebrow. Skeptical was as close as she could come to describing his expression. Had she hurt him so badly that he couldn’t believe it possible for her to spend time with sick children? That shamed her. Hurt her, too. But, she had no right to feel anything but sorry for all she’d put him through.

“I hate to sound redundant, but with two jobs, helping out around here, and putting in time at the hospital, when do you sleep?”

Now that he knew she couldn’t repay him—yet—why was he still here? To make her regret losing him even more than she already did?

Maybe a change of subject would put them both at ease. “Saw you on TV the other day.” He’d looked so handsome. So at ease, smiling for the camera, making small talk with the show’s host. Thankfully, she’d been alone in the family room, so no one had seen her drop onto the couch cushions and blubber into a throw pillow. “You’re a natural.”

“It’s a different way to make a living, I’ll admit, but since Mom’s stroke—”

“What! Stroke? When did that happen? How bad was it? Is she all right?”

He held up a hand. “Whoa. Easy, girl.” Grinning, he said, “She’s fine. Happened a couple months back. Doc says she should be fine as long as she takes her meds, exercises, eats smart.”

She felt selfish. Self-centered. Childish. Because in all the time she’d been away, her only contact with Colette had been when she placed a check into a carefully chosen greeting card that featured lilacs, Colette’s favorite flowers. According to her bank statement, the check had been cashed almost immediately, eliminating the need to call and make sure Jase’s mom had received the payment. It had been a relief, but sad, too, because she and Colette had once been almost as close as mother and daughter. One more loss to chalk up to the addiction...

“You’ll be happy to know that Mom is as spry and spunky as ever.”

Lillie inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank goodness. I suppose I should give her a call. Or better still, stop by with a little get-well gift.”

As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. Some people, her counselor had stressed, would never fully get over what she’d done to them.

Yet again, she wondered why he’d stopped by. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body, so it surely hadn’t really been to torment her...

“Mom and Dad are out back, cleaning up after the construction crew. The Sams and Matt and Molly and the twins are back there, too. I’m sure they’d—”

“I didn’t come here to see them.”

Despite the heat of the day, a chill snaked up her spine. She’d already made it clear that, unless he was willing to take a partial payment, she couldn’t reimburse him.

“Your...” Lillie couldn’t bring herself to say girlfriend. “Whitney seems nice.” She’s pretty, too. And tall.

Lips narrowed, Jase stared at the ground between his feet. Lillie had seen that grim look only once before, on the night he’d listed every way and every time she’d let him down. It took months to figure out why, in addition to anger and disappointment, guilt had flashed in his eyes that night: exercising tough love had been hard on him. But why did he look that way now, at the mention of Whitney?

His right hand shot out, startling her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you again. Just didn’t want this guy getting all tangled up in your curls.”

Oh, he scared her, all right. But not because he held a daddy longlegs by one spindly appendage.

A tense snicker popped from her lips. “Yeah, well, maybe getting stuck would have been a good lesson for him. Hard to tell how long he would have been trapped in there!”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a slight grin. “A lesson. For a spider.”

“Then he’d know how helpless it feels.” She tucked a wayward wave behind her ear. “Being trapped, like the flies and moths he catches in his web, I mean.”

If she had to guess, Lillie would say he shared her next thought: I know exactly how that feels. She’d been trapped by addiction, and so had Jase because he’d loved someone in the trap.

“Are you thirsty? I made iced tea and lemonade this morning. We could drink it on the porch, out of the hot sun.”

Jase shot a quick glance at the porch and the row of rocking chairs that flanked the big double doors. Was he remembering, too, the way they’d whiled away the hours, counting stars, strumming guitars and finessing harmonies of new songs, or designing their future as crickets chirped and night birds peeped?

“No thanks, can’t stay. Just stopped by to say hi, and see how you’re adjusting to being home again.”

Home again. Not long after she joined the band, he’d written a song with that title, saying when he introduced it that he hoped it would inspire her to stay in Baltimore, rather than going back to touring the country.

Lillie shook off the bittersweet memory. “It’s all good.” It wasn’t. Not when she remembered the reactions of everyone she’d repaid. Not when she admitted they might remain leery of her. “I haven’t used in a long, long time, so I’m healthy, too, physically and emotionally.” She sighed. “Much to the surprise of just about everyone.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“Family, friends, the guys in the band.” And you... “Not that I blame them.” She tugged off the other work glove. “A lot of water passed under the bridge.”

“More like a flood.”

Lillie couldn’t very well disagree. Face the discomfort, she told herself. Face it head-on.

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s only natural that people doubt a full recovery. Even after talking with the rehab staff...” She shook her head. “I don’t expect most of the people in my life will forgive and forget easily. I realize that I still have a lot to prove.” Should she say it? Lillie went for broke: “To everyone.”

She braced herself, waiting for Jase to agree that he, too, was still wary.

“I can’t be a hundred percent certain,” she went on, “but it seems at least Mom and Dad have confidence in me again.”

“But not the Sams, or Molly and Matt.”

“Oh, they’re all being really nice. I think they know how hard I’m trying, but—”

“A case of ‘do or do not, there is no try,’ huh?”

If she’d had her way, their first real conversation wouldn’t have been anything like this. For starters, she’d have called him, arranged a time and place to deliver the money she owed, and in place of muddy sneakers, holey jeans and a paint-spattered cap, she would have shown up in something feminine and colorful. Lillie had never minded his take-charge personality. It was how he’d stayed on top of things as manager of the pub, what helped him turn his mother’s business into a thriving corporation. Without that trait, he wouldn’t have looked and sounded so professional on TV.

Right now, though, Lillie wouldn’t have complained if Jase was a bit less competent.

In all fairness, Jase wasn’t responsible for how bleak she felt. Her addiction was. One of the toughest things about coming home had been seeing and hearing for herself that everything they’d said at Rising Sun had been true: you may never win back their trust, so remember, you’re doing this for yourself. Lillie felt strong enough to cope with that for now, but what if her loved ones felt the same way in six months or a year? Would she be strong enough then?

“Aw, quit looking so glum, Lill. I watched you tough it out through those awful exercises during physical therapy. And you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t toughed out rehab, too. You’ve got that going for you, plus, you’re stubborn. More stubborn than anyone I know. If you really want to beat this thing—permanently this time—you will.”

If? Why the extra emphasis on the word?

“So how long have you and Whitney been dating?” Lillie hoped he wouldn’t tell her there was more to the relationship than that.

“Not long. Couple months, give or take.”

Her dad implied that Jase had seen other women, too, since their breakup. Any rational person would agree that he had every right to move on. At the moment, Lillie wasn’t feeling very rational.

She started to ask how they’d met when he stopped her with “I, uh, I guess I’d better head out. Need to get dog food, pick up some groceries and stuff.”

“When did you get a dog? What breed is it?”

This time his quiet laughter sounded halfway sincere. “It isn’t mine, it’s Mom’s. He’s a mutt. German shepherd–Doberman–Irish setter mix, near as the vet can tell. Good-lookin’ pup, but big. And sheds enough to make a whole other dog. Ronald showed up at her door one day, and stayed.”

Lillie smiled at that. “Ronald, huh?” She remembered the full-color autographed photo of the former president on Colette’s office wall, right beside the letter he’d dictated, detailing the country’s appreciation for Jase’s dad’s years of military service.

Jase only nodded.

“I’m sure she’s grateful for the companionship, especially since you and Drew and Dora travel so much.”

A look of disbelief crossed his face, and he took a half step back.

“I didn’t mean for that to sound like I think you aren’t doing enough for Colette. I’m sure you’re there every chance you get. Drew and Dora, too. I haven’t exactly earned any daughter-of-the-year points, so I have no room to talk.”

Jase’s eyes narrowed just enough to tell her he wasn’t sure whether to believe her.

“Anyway,” he said, replacing his cap, “I’m outta here. It’s good to see you’re doing well, Lill.”

“Good to see you, too, Jase.” Saying his name brought forth the memory of Whitney, calling him Jason. “You are still going by Jase, right?”

“Of course. You know how I feel about being called Jason.”

“I only asked because the other day, Whitney—”

The muscles in his jaw tensed. “Yeah, she’s the only person who calls me that. I’ve kinda learned to live with it.”

He sounded as annoyed as he looked. Difficult as it was to take Whitney’s side, Lillie said, “She probably just wants to make sure everyone knows that her relationship with you is different—more special—than any other.”

“I guess that might explain it.”

Although he followed up with a dry chuckle, Lillie sensed that he wasn’t happy. She tried a different tack.

“Have you told her that you prefer Jase?”

“Not in so many words.” Jase removed the cap again, ran a hand through his dark hair. “Well, I have to go.”

A strange twinge pinched at her heart: What if...what if he’d stopped by to tell her he’d proposed to Whitney, but decided she wasn’t strong enough yet to hear the news?

“Didn’t mean to take you away from your work.”

“You didn’t.”

Lillie held her breath, hoping he’d say, When can I see you again? or better still, I’ve missed you, Lill. He nodded and made a thin line of his mouth. His “I don’t know what to say, so I won’t say anything” face, she remembered. “You’re welcome here anytime, Jase.”

Just then, his cell phone dinged. A worry line creased his forehead as he read the caller ID screen. Whitney. Lillie would have bet her wheelbarrow on it.

Jase slid wraparound sunglasses from his shirt pocket.

“See you around, Lill,” he said, and made his way down the driveway.

It wasn’t what she’d hoped to hear, but it beat “goodbye.”

Lillie faced the rows of marigolds and zinnias she’d planted in front of the roses. Funny, but they looked even brighter through the sheen of tears.

The counselors had cautioned her against expecting anything more than an arm’s-length friendship with Jase, and yet, somewhere deep in her heart, she’d hidden a glimmer of hope that when he realized how much she’d changed...

“Oh my, Lillie,” her mother said, leaning over the railing. “You’ve done a beautiful job! Are you almost finished?”

Turning so her mom wouldn’t see her tears, Lillie said, “I just need to give everything a good soaking and put away the tools.”

“Well, well, well. Will you look at this,” Liam said, coming to stand beside Amelia. “Looks like a professional landscaper did the work.”

Lillie couldn’t thank him for the compliment, because a sob ached in her throat.

“Hot dogs and hamburgers are ready, kitten, and your mom made her famous potato salad.”

Her mother took a step forward. “Are you all right, honey?”

“Just a little tired. Not used to being on my hands and knees,” she croaked out. It was only a half lie. The ache in her leg—so familiar since her accident—had flared up during all the yardwork. She’d be limping tomorrow.

“You must be famished. A good thing, because Sam is about to take the meat off the grill.”

“Are we eating out back?”

Liam said, “Yup. Red-checkered tablecloth, the whole nine yards.” Her dad started down the steps. “Let me help you clean up.”

Lillie twisted the hose nozzle and gasped when water spritzed the upper half of her body.

Another good thing, as it turned out, because the droplets camouflaged her tears.