One Lavender Ribbon

by Heather Burch

  Things would have been okay if Sara hadn’t asked her to be the maid of honor. Adrienne knew this would inevitably throw her and Will together at some point.

  She missed him. Adrienne sluggishly pulled herself up the front steps of her house. She missed him every day. Glancing at the now glowing front porch, she wondered if she should sell.

  Chewing the inside corner of her mouth, she played with that idea. Yes, sell it. The work is almost done. Why not? You could move on. The wind picked up around her, the breeze carrying a scent of honeysuckle and mint, but underlying it was something she cherished even more. It was the tantalizing promise of a fresh start.

  Wind still in her hair as she entered the house, she called Mary Lathrop. They discussed the details and decided that the house would go on the market in two months. That gave Adrienne time to finish the last of the remodel and would keep her here for the wedding a month later.

  “I expect it to sell quickly,” Mary assured her.

  Adrienne figured it would. It had been a prime, though dilapidated, property when she bought it. Now, the perfect location sported a perfect Victorian home.

  Then what? A stack of magazines waited for her perusal, strewn across the living room floor. She carried them to their stand by the kitchen island. One ad slid from a booklet and fluttered to the tile. She watched it turn, then twist, and finally come to rest near the trash can. She scooped it up and held it over the can. Fingertips covering half of the words on the advertisement, she momentarily froze. “No,” she mumbled, and tossed the ad as she spun on her heels. But the ad hit the floor yet again. The movement grabbed her attention, and she pivoted.

  Culinary School—why not you? stared up at her from the Italian tile floor. She stared back at it, arms folded over her chest and hip cocked.

  Why not me? She tapped her index finger on her chin. This time, she moved the ad to the kitchen table. She loved to cook and had an aptitude for blending ingredients into tantalizing concoctions that made others gush. Why not me? she asked herself and tucked hair behind her ear. A hint of a smile formed.

  Adrienne began to plan her future.

  Fifteen minutes after beginning her journey, the phone rang. It was Sammie. “Hey, Chicago. Busy?”

  Yes, Adrienne thought. I’m quite busy planning my future, which excludes you and all the other people I’ve grown to love here. But instead she said, “No, just ran to the mailbox.”

  “Can you come to the coffee shop?”

  “I guess,” Adrienne replied, but knew she wasn’t the best of company.

  “Good, there’s something going on here that you should see.”

  Adrienne headed up the stairs, wondering what could be so fascinating to cause straightforward Sammie to sound mysterious and . . . excited. There was a time when words like “something going on that you should see” would have sparked Adrienne’s imagination. A sucker for an enigma, her mind would have contemplated every possible scenario from a natural disaster to a traveling circus taking up residence in Sammie’s parking lot.

  But not any more. Those things seemed childish and silly now that she was busy nursing a broken heart. It was safer to just grab her keys and make the five-minute drive without trying to guess. Guessing only led to disappointment.

  Sammie had kept a close eye on her for the first month after the break-up—if you could call it that—with Will, but in the last several weeks, Sammie put away the mother-hen attitude and was back to being a somewhat more normal best friend.

  Adrienne drove to the coffee shop, but when she saw the multitude of cars that filled the parking lot, she quickly scanned for lion cages and freak-show trailers. There were none to be found. Just normal vehicles and people. People everywhere. She had to park nearly a block away. Stepping inside the crowded coffee shop, she quickly spotted Sammie’s flash of red hair. She sidestepped a large group and said, “What’s going on?”

  Sammie pointed, face beaming. “Here comes Ryan. He can explain.”

  Adrienne frowned.

  Ryan met the two women and reached out to hug Adrienne. “Remember the letter about the random act of kindness?”

  She nodded. “William’s letter, yes.”

  “Well, we published that part of it in the university’s newspaper with a challenge to be inspired.” Ryan gestured with arms outstretched. “All these people heeded the call. They’re going today to Northside Elementary School to paint and clean it for the upcoming school year.”

  Looking around, Adrienne noticed most of the people were young and college age, and all of them were dressed to work.

  “This is amazing. Why Northside?”

  “They have the least amount of funding and the greatest need.” Sammie grabbed her arms, eyes going wide. “Adrienne, don’t you see what a difference you’ve made?”

  Adrienne stepped back a little, tried to pull from her grasp. “Me?”

  “Yes, if you hadn’t found those letters, if you hadn’t taken it upon yourself to find William, none of this would have happened.”

  Adrienne stared at the floor. A lot of things wouldn’t have happened, like her broken heart.

  Sammie’s attention was drawn to the door. She started waving vigorously behind her.

  But Adrienne continued to examine the grout in the coffee shop’s tile floor as she considered age-old letters inspiring young people. Finally, the vision of scores of people painting and cleaning took root. Excitement quickly followed. “Ryan, congratulations. This is an amazing thing you’ve done.”

  “I didn’t do this. I just told the reporter. This was all put together by him.” He pointed behind her.

  Adrienne spun around. And met Will face to face. All the breath left her lungs.

  Will reached past her to shake Ryan’s hand. “Thanks for coming. I’ve got those paint tarps in the back of my car. I left the trunk open.”

  Ryan disappeared and Adrienne blinked, trying to understand.

  “Can you believe this?” Will said with a wide sweeping gesture. He smiled, and the entire room melted away from them. “I thought maybe fifteen or twenty people might show up, if we were lucky.”

  “How?” This whole Will and Ryan on the same project with Sammie in the middle of it thing was like a weird dream.

  “When I saw the article at the college, I contacted the reporter. The scuba team was already looking for more ways to reach out to the community. You remember sitting in on one of our meetings, right?”

  “Right,” she barely mumbled.

  “When I told the reporter who I was, he wanted to do another article, one about Pops. We agreed. With the stipulation that we put forth a precedent. Be Inspired. Do something out of the ordinary, a random act of kindness. We offered people to join us here to work on Northside School.”

  A coy grin slashed Adrienne’s face. “An article about Pops, huh?”

  Will’s green eyes sparkled. “Yes. It’s important to remember the past, Adrienne. The past shapes who we are.”

  Those were her words. Words from, oh, what felt like an eternity ago. Words Adrienne had said to Will. Words that had changed him. And now, the challenge to allow the same phrase to change her was evident. He wasn’t talking about kids or schools or acts of kindness. Will held her gaze as if those green globes could strip away every ounce of her reserve. Maybe they could, there was so much power in this man. Beside him she felt small. A thought struck her. “Who’s paying for all this?”

  Will blinked, looked away. Tried to catch someone’s attention across the room. He was . . . uncomfortable, and the reality of that intrigued Adrienne.

  “Well, we better get started,” he said.

  When he walked past, Adrienne caught his arm. “You’re paying for it?”

  Will didn’t answer. White-hot sparks burst from where her skin contacted his. She could practically see them. Adrienne wanted to pull her hand away, but the electricity between them caused her fingers to tremble, not release. His response was a quiver that rumbled from him . . . right into h
er. Skin to skin, the heat burned, but still she couldn’t draw away. Will looked down into her face. His lips were parted; he smelled like the leather from his car and that essence she had never quite been able to name. Or resist.

  “Come with me,” he whispered, and though Adrienne knew he was offering her to join the group, there was another offer beneath. Something that made her feel stripped of all inhibitions—something that made her feel powerful, womanly. Though she knew she shouldn’t, she dragged those words deep into herself, let them scratch and scrape in her innermost being, let her mind trail down a dangerous path. How could she have felt so small next to this man only moments ago, yet now—well, now she felt able to conquer the world. Sara’s words drifted into her head: “The ocean’s a lonely place when you’re all alone.”

  Adrienne squared her shoulders. Mustered her courage. She might have to sort out all the underlying questions and innuendos that had filled Will’s words later, but she could answer the surface question. “I’m in.” She released Will’s arm.

  Until she spoke, Adrienne had forgotten Sammie was there. “You can practically remodel the whole thing with a group like this. There’s got to be a hundred people here.”

  As Adrienne took her hand from his arm, Will seemed as though he left—unwillingly—that dark, intimate place they’d just been. He smiled. “It will sparkle when we’re done. We’ve even gotten an okay to paint some murals on the walls. Those kids won’t recognize their school building.”

  Adrienne imagined small children stepping into the freshly painted school. What would it be like to watch little faces and happy eyes study the murals painted especially for them?

  “Will, this really is wonderful,” she said. “Congratulations.”

  His eyes locked on hers again. And once more, her heart stopped beating.

  She swallowed hard, suddenly aware of her disheveled appearance and annoyed with herself for being aware. She’d already been dressed to paint, having planned to work on her house. She hadn’t changed when she got the call from Sammie.

  Will pulled half of his lower lip into his mouth. A soft curve lit the opposite side of his face, and for one more flash, she was the only person in the universe. “I’m glad you’re coming along.”

  “Well . . . ” She rolled her eyes. “I did have some extremely urgent things I was going to do for myself. But suddenly, I feel inspired.”

  A bad day painting was better than a good day wallowing in self-pity. But it wasn’t a bad day painting. It had, in fact, been a great morale booster. She’d worked, scrubbed, and cleaned along with all the people who had joined in Will’s quest. She’d steered clear of him for most of the day, making the entire thing tolerable on the heart level. Adrienne returned home feeling good, really good about how she’d spent her day.

  By nightfall, she and Sammie were swapping stories about the school project. “It’s going to be on the local news.”

  “That’s great. Maybe even more people will be inspired.” Adrienne said.

  Sammie nodded, rubbing her elbow. “Boy, I hate getting old. My elbow’s on fire.”

  “Well, I never saw you take a break all day. I’ll get us some iced tea.” Adrienne disappeared into the kitchen.

  Sammie eyed her. “Are you saying this wound is self-inflicted?”

  “I’m just saying I have aspirin if you want it.”

  “Nah.” Sammie waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll rub some castor oil on it when I get home.”

  Sammie and her home remedies. “Castor oil. Yuck,” Adrienne said as she handed Sammie a tea. Sweat had already accumulated along the side of the glass. When she flipped her mop of red hair out of the way and took a drink, some of the condensation gathered and ran along her hand.

  “This is really good.”

  “Sun tea.” Adrienne had finally gotten used to the humidity and the fact that even inside, water rapidly condensed on a glass.

  “I noticed Ryan painting near you a lot. I think Will noticed it too. Wonder what he thought of that?” Her friend took another long drink.

  “I can’t care what Will thought.”

  “So, you and Ryan?”

  But Adrienne was already shaking her head. “No.”

  Sammie gauged her with narrowed eyes.

  The scrutiny was unbearable. “There’s just nothing there.”

  “Hmm.” She poked her elbow and winced.

  Adrienne shrugged. “I almost wish there were. But I just don’t feel for him like—”

  “Like you do for Will?”

  “I was going to say like I should.” Adrienne reached for a cork coaster and placed her tea on the coffee table.

  “So, it’s not Will that you’re in love with?”

  Adrienne made a pouty face. “Actually, I do love Will. Okay, I said it. I love him, I love him, I love him.” She paused, letting the words fall to the ground and die. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “Honey.” Sammie tilted toward her, long red hair tumbling forward. “It changes everything.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  Sammie leaned back, stretching her arms out at her sides and resting them on the couch pillows. “Tell me something: Why did you break it off with Will?”

  No psychoanalysis, please. It wasn’t something she could explain in an instant.

  “So you wouldn’t get hurt, right?” Sammie filled in for her, tipping the palm of one hand up toward the ceiling.

  “To super simplify it, yes, I guess.” Adrienne didn’t want to talk about this. She’d redirected the subject a dozen times with Sammie, and she could do it again.

  “But you failed. You’re already hurt. You’re in love with him, Adrienne. Don’t you think that deserves a chance? Isn’t it worth fighting for?”

  But Adrienne didn’t want to fight. She simply wanted to exist and enjoy life and not have to watch her back. She couldn’t blame Sammie for what she was trying to do, In fact, she loved her for it. But it was a dead issue. She wouldn’t risk the betrayal. And that’s exactly what it was. A betrayal.

  Slowly, she shook her head. “Is it worth it? Probably to most people.” She stood up from her chair and moved toward the edge of the room.

  Sammie turned on the couch to keep her in view.

  “But not to me.” Adrienne went into the kitchen for a few minutes, then returned with a glass of water and two aspirin.

  Sammie sighed and took them from her.

  It was a setup. Adrienne knew it. She’d sensed it coming and knew exactly how she would respond. Sara was on the other end of the telephone line, bubbling about the wedding plans and the honeymoon and all the fun that accompanied the special day. Sara had lost seven pounds, which she was now spouting off about. She talked about cutting down on red meat and blah, blah, blah. Adrienne brushed a hand through her hair, the recipient of her own disgust. Why couldn’t she just put her feelings aside and be happy for the two without feeling sorry for herself?

  “Anyway,” Sara crooned, “I need you to come with me and Pops and Will. We’re going to have brunch at the Naples Elite Beach Resort. We need to finalize everything for the rehearsal, ceremony, and reception.” Sara continued her spiel about healthy eating.

  Adrienne leaned her head against the living room wall. She’d go, of course. She had to. She wouldn’t disappoint Pops and Sara for anything. It was just so hard to be around Will. Of course, it was hard not to be around him, as well. Though over two months had passed since the birthday party, Adrienne still found herself thinking about him on a daily basis. She heaved an angry breath forcing him from her thoughts. Again.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Sara asked, evidently concerned.

  “Oh.” She snapped to attention, not wanting the older woman to know how uncomfortable these situations made her. “Yes, great. I would love to go along. I’ve heard so much about the brunch at the Naples Elite.”

  “We’ll pick you up Saturday morning around ten.”

  “Oh, this Saturday,” she scrambled. “I
have some errands to do, so I’ll just meet you there.”

  “All right,” Sara replied. “Thank you again, Adrienne.”

  But she didn’t feel deserving of thanks or appreciation of any kind.

  She just felt trapped.

  By the time Saturday morning arrived, Will had changed his mind three times about what he would wear to brunch. After trying a dress shirt and linen pants once more, he opted for a polo shirt and jeans. Adrienne seemed to always comment on how good he looked in jeans. This is stupid, he told himself. As if a magic pair of pants is going to make her fall in love with you.

  The host escorted them to their table, but Will wasn’t hungry. His stomach was a tight wad of nerves that made food seem repulsive. He sat so that he could watch the door. When she entered, his heart started pounding.

  A filmy white sundress floated around her hips. Tall wedge sandals elongated her legs, highlighting the muscle tone in her slender calves. Her skin was a little darker, and the dark hair that feathered across her shoulders moved as she stepped. She was stunning.

  Adrienne reached the table and hugged Pops first, then Sara. Turning to Will, she stepped around the table and gave him a courtesy hug as well. He breathed deeply, her scent, her life force—everything about her surged into his system.

  “Good to see you, Will.”

  “You as well.” He tried to sound casual, but, in a word, he was bankrupt. Completely and utterly bankrupt. Would he ever get over this woman? No. And honestly, he didn’t want to. He had told his father that he would never give up on Adrienne. And he meant it. He still meant it. Seeing her again—after their little sticky-hot moment at Sammie’s—just solidified his commitment. There was no other woman in the world for him. She was it. She was everything.

  They ate overlooking the bay. Outside, the water glistened in anticipation of the cruisers, fishing boats, and clippers beginning to set sail. Sea spray reached upward to cool the sun-heated deck. Its overspray salted the restaurant window.

  Pops and Sara were going to be wed at this very hotel. Will’s folks were coming home for it, and all should be right in the world. If only he had the woman he loved where she should be. In his arms, at his side.