The Redemption of Lillie Rourke

by Loree Lough

  Spence had bought the kids a piano, guitars and a drum set, and even while they were still in diapers, they could produce almost tolerable music. A jam session sounded good to Jase. A little more time with the rowdy Smith clan was sure to keep his mind off Whitney. And Lillie.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “WHERE IS EVERYBODY?” Jase asked, putting down his guitar case in the foyer.

  “The construction crew is gone, for now, anyway,” Lillie said. “Mom and Dad are shopping. It’s been a while since they’ve been able to properly stock the pantry.”

  “That’s what I need to do. Between flying back and forth to Florida and running the day-to-day stuff at the company, I haven’t had time to hit the grocery store.”

  “But let me guess... There are at least three boxes of breakfast cereal in the cabinet above your stove...”

  Jase smiled at that. “Four, actually, but you get bonus points for remembering where I keep them.”

  She’d cooked dozens of meals for him, had made lasagna in his kitchen the day before the breakup. Did he think her addiction had addled her brain to the point she wouldn’t remember something like that?

  Lillie bit back her annoyance. She’d been warned that people would question just about everything about her. And who do you have to blame for that?

  “I want to show you something,” she said, changing the subject on the way to the kitchen. She threw open the French doors and led the way onto the back porch. “I wish I had more time to spend out there, reading, sipping sweet tea, enjoying the breeze... Isn’t that the most gorgeous gazebo, ever?”

  “Yeah. Gorgeous.”

  He’d been looking at her, not the gazebo when he said it. Lillie decided she’d better not read too much into that. She tidied the flowery cushions on the wicker glider, and from the corner of her eye, noticed that he wasn’t standing up as straight as usual. A sign, she recalled, that he’d been pushing himself too hard. Faint dark circles under his eyes told her he’d probably been up all hours, making mental to-do lists instead of sleeping. He’d probably been skipping meals...and not just because he hadn’t taken time to shop.

  “I didn’t have breakfast,” she fibbed. “Do you mind if I fix something before we get started?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Don’t mind a bit.”

  “Over easy?” She cracked two eggs in the skillet.

  “You remembered?”

  “That you’re always hungry, or how you like your eggs?”

  It had been that adorable slanted smile—the one that exposed a deep, oblong dimple in his left cheek—that had captivated her during her audition at Three-Eyed Joe’s. Lillie used to tease him that if not for that dimple, she wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. And he made her pay for the statement by charging a fee: a kiss, placed smack dab in the middle of that dimple.

  She opened the refrigerator door. “I remember a lot of things about you.”

  The smile diminished as she stacked the egg carton, a package of link sausage and butter in her arms. “There’s coffee over there. Help yourself.”

  Her heart swelled when he went right to the spot where her mom had always kept the mugs. No surprise, really, since he’d joined her family dozens of times. Affection pulsed in her heart.

  Stop behaving like a love-struck ninny, she scolded. He’s with someone.

  “Can I pour you some?” he asked, still holding the pot.

  “That’d be nice. Thanks.”

  After arranging the sausage links in a cast iron skillet, Lillie set the table. “There’s OJ and tomato juice in the fridge,” she said, placing squatty glasses near the plates. “I’ll have tomato.”

  He seemed relieved to have something to do.

  When he finished, Jase leaned against the counter beside the stove and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like your hair like that.”

  “Thanks. I cut it as part of my ‘start over, start fresh’ campaign.” When he didn’t respond, Lillie said, “I like yours, too.”

  Jase ran his fingers through his dark bangs and, laughing, said, “Haven’t had time to get to the barber’s either. It’s a hair longer than normal—pardon the pun—but otherwise, it’s the way I’ve worn it for years.”

  She dumped several pats of butter into a Teflon frying pan. “I liked it then, I like it now.”

  “I, uh, thanks.”

  Was his sudden silence the result of remembering the way they’d always watched movies...his head in her lap, her fingers gently massaging his scalp? Oh, what she’d give to touch his hair right now!

  Jase peered into the dining room, where stacks of folded plastic sheeting and coils of electric cords lined the far wall, the only remaining signs of the remodel. “So the crew is pretty much finished, then. Bet your mom is relieved.”

  “No question about it.” She turned on the flame under the pan. “This stove was special ordered from a culinary school in France. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It’s really something, all right.” This time as he spoke, Jase actually looked at the stove.

  “Mind if I have a look around, see what else has changed since I was here last?”

  “Make yourself at home.” Lillie cracked four eggs into the skillet. “But wait a minute.” She waved the spatula in the air. “Didn’t you come inside when you stopped by?”

  “When I stopped by...”

  “Dad told me that you popped over every few months,” she began, hiding a grin, “usually with a different woman on your arm?”

  Jase took a step away from the counter and put his hands in his pockets. It was what he’d always done when at a loss for words. Lillie wished she could rephrase the question, with no special emphasis on the word woman. It made her sound like a jealous wife, and they both knew she’d never be anything of the kind.

  “Lill, you know as well as I do that I like your mom and dad. Your brother and sister, too. Heck. All of them made me feel like family, even the twins. I didn’t think you’d have a problem with it if I stopped by now and then, to see how they were doing.”

  After flipping the eggs, she lined up the sausages on a plate. “So how are Drew and Dora? Still working too much?”

  His expression had gone from friendly to borderline annoyed. And who could blame him?

  “Yeah. Some things never change.”

  His tone had changed, too, from warm to coolly detached.

  “That’s too bad. Life is short. All work and no play...”

  “...makes Jack a dull boy,” they said together.

  At least he was smiling again.

  His ability to read her mind had always amazed her. But now? After all this time apart? It stirred the embers she’d hidden deep inside her heart, and the dim glow gave her hope that there might be a chance for them. Emotionally, Lillie felt stronger than ever. She truly believed she had beaten the monster Addiction into submission. She’d learned in rehab that any crazy thing—disappointment, hurt feelings, the judgment of others—could hurtle an addict straight back into the abyss. Despite the drugs’ ability to deliver temporary respite from pain, she’d hated that dark, lonely place and never wanted to go back there again.

  “Did you sing much while you were...away?”

  Was he having trouble dealing with the fact that she’d been in rehab? Or maybe, instead, he thought she didn’t like reminders of her time at Rising Sun.

  “Not a note.”

  He stared at her for a long, silent moment, then topped off his coffee. “Why not, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Pete asked me to, dozens of times, but the association between music and...” And you, she thought, made it unbearable.

  She pretended to be distracted, getting breakfast on the table, and once they were seated, Lillie turned the conversation to Jase’s work.

  “You seem really comfortable, being on
TV.”

  “I wasn’t at first. Got so nervous during the first airing that I had to take a break halfway through it to change my shirt.”

  The only time she’d seen him sweat had been the night he spelled things out in no uncertain terms. It’s me or the drugs. Lillie shook off the awful memory.

  “But you were always so great onstage.”

  “Yeah, in front of a couple hundred people, tops. Big difference between that and a couple million.”

  “I hadn’t considered that.”

  “Plus, onstage, I had the guys covering my back.”

  Interesting, Lillie thought, that he hadn’t said you and the guys. She’d let him down in a lot of ways, but never when it came to the performance.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued, “the show hosts jump in a lot, which relieves some of the pressure. Trouble is, some of ’em don’t know when to jump out.” He held up his right hand, made it say “Blah-blah-blah-blah.” Then, “And as often as not, they get the product details wrong. Drives me nuts, having to correct them on-air.”

  “I can understand that.” She sipped her tomato juice. “Does your mom ever appear on the show?”

  “No, she wants to stay as far from the cameras as possible.”

  “I suppose that makes sense. With her recent health scare, why risk the added stress?”

  “She acts like that’s no big deal. Shrugs it off as a ministroke.”

  “Still, she had a TIA, right? It might not be as grim as the real deal, but it’s still serious, since it warns what might happen without proper medications and care.”

  “How’d you learn so much about it?”

  “You remember my dad’s heart attack, years ago. It was fairly mild, as heart attacks go, but his cardiologist made it pretty clear that it could lead to another more destructive one—or a stroke.”

  “Yeah, I do remember.” He studied her face again. “And knowing you, you studied up on both.”

  “Well yes, so I could help Mom keep him on a diet and...”

  When Lillie saw his admiring expression, she stopped talking. She hadn’t earned that from him. Not yet. But she decided to ignore the feelings. Giving them more significance than they warranted would only lead to trouble.

  “How’s Deke these days?”

  Jase drained his coffee mug. “He’s great. Saw him a couple days ago. Every time I stop by, I expect to see some signs that he’s actually in his sixties. You know, gray hair, wrinkles, an arthritic knuckle or two. The guy is ageless.”

  “Still holding the Sloppiest Office in America title?”

  The question invited a chuckle. “Yeah. And y’know? Maybe that’s what keeps him young. Deke never sweats the small stuff...”

  “...and it’s all small stuff,” they said at the same time.

  Laughing, Jase shoved back from the table and patted his stomach. She couldn’t help noticing how flat it was. “Whew. I’m stuffed. Thanks, Lill. Breakfast was great.”

  She wished he’d stop looking at her that way—eyes beaming with affection, a smile that warmed her to the soles of her feet—because it reminded her of better times and raised her hopes even more. Lillie broke the intense eye contact and got to her feet to clear the table. Lillie’s hands trembled as she put a thumb into her own juice glass, a forefinger into his. They clinked together as she lifted them, shattering both rims...and leaving an inch-long gash in the bend of her thumb.

  “Oh, good grief,” she said, quickly depositing both into the sink. “I’m such a klutz.”

  Jase was beside her in an eye blink and, gently cupping her hand in his, turned on the faucet. Brow furrowed with concentration, he leaned in for a closer look.

  “It’s barely a scratch,” she said, willing her voice to stop shaking. “I’ll be fine.”

  Without letting go, he turned, eyes flicking from her lips to her cheeks before meeting her gaze. “While I appreciate the consult, Doctor Rourke, I think we should wait a few minutes before deciding that it’s fine.” He looked back at the cut. “If it hasn’t stopped bleeding in ten minutes, I’ll drive you to the ER.”

  For a moment, neither of them spoke as they stood, shoulders touching, his hand under hers. She dreaded the possibility of stitches. Then, an idea came to her...

  “Have you ever made a butterfly bandage?”

  Bright blue eyes met hers—eyes that gleamed with concern—and sent her heart into overdrive.

  “Can’t say that I have.”

  “I can teach you. I learned how at Rising Sun, a class in emergency first aid.”

  His left eyebrow disappeared behind his bangs. “Someday, I hope you’ll tell me all about what you learned—and what you went through—up there.”

  Lillie held her breath and hoped Jase couldn’t hear her hard-beating heart. Jase had always been a caring man who rarely said things he didn’t mean. That alone made what he’d said that night so hard to hear.

  Lillie had two choices: start listing life lessons learned in rebab, or change the subject.

  “Just so happens I aced all my craft classes. In fact, my basket weaving was so perfect, the counselor called dibs on mine.” Peripheral vision drew her attention to the sink. Watching her blood swirl down the drain made her light-headed. Jase had been right. The cut was deep, and showed no signs of clotting.

  “There’s medical tape in the powder room.”

  “Don’t move. I’ll get it.”

  Jase jogged down the hall, muttering something unintelligible as he searched for the tape. He was back in no time with the tape, a small pair of scissors, peroxide and a clean towel.

  Standing beside her again, he scrubbed his hands. “You really think this special bandage idea of yours will stop the bleeding?”

  “Worst-case scenario, it’ll slow it down.”

  “Well then,” he said, pulling out a kitchen chair, “let’s get this operation underway.”

  The instant she sat down, Jase took a knee.

  “Okay, what do I do first?”

  “Tear off five strips of the tape, and stick one end of each to the edge of the table.”

  Jase followed instructions to the letter. “And now?”

  “Uncap the peroxide for me,” she said, draping the towel over her knees.

  He did, and when she splashed it over the cut and onto the floor, Jase winced. “Sheesh. I could have done that!”

  She grinned and dabbed blood from around the gash. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Hey, it’s your folks’ new hickory floor, not mine.”

  “Soon as we’re finished here, I’ll wipe it up. They’ll never even notice.”

  He harrumphed. “If you say so. What’s next?”

  “Put a twist into one of the tape strips. Put it right in the middle.” When he did, she added, “Now twist it again, so that both sticky sides are face down.”

  “Okay...”

  Using her free hand, Lillie pinched both sides of the wound together until it formed a thin line. “Put the twist over the cut, to hold the cut closed. That’s it. Perfect. Now stick another to the right of it, and one to the left.”

  He admired the X shape he’d made. “Hey. That’s pretty cool. It’s hardly bleeding at all anymore.”

  His approval shouldn’t have meant so much, but it did. She hid her feelings behind a grin. “Stick with me, Yeager. You might just learn another thing or two.”

  Leaning a hand on each of the chair’s arms, he said, “So that’s it? We’re done?”

  He was close enough to kiss. Part of her wanted to give in to it. And part of her knew what a mistake that would be. There was another person to consider. Whitney.

  “Not quite. You need to tape over the edges, to hold all the strips in place.”

  “But...how do you protect the cut? There’s barely anything covering it.”

/>   “Oh. Right. I’d almost forgotten about that. There should be some gauze in the medicine cabinet, along with some antibiotic ointment.”

  Grazing her cheek with a fingertip, Jase smiled. “No problem.” When he got back this time, he didn’t wait for instructions. Didn’t ask questions. Didn’t make comments. Instead, he squeezed a pea-sized blob of the ointment onto a fingertip and spread it onto the gauze. After placing it greasy-side-down over the cut, he secured all four sides with more tape.

  Lillie wanted to throw her arms around his neck. The fact that she couldn’t—that she probably never could—put tears in her eyes.

  He scooted a chair closer to hers and sat, facing her. “Hey. What’s wrong?” Again, Jase cradled her injured hand. “Was I too rough? Did I press too hard getting the gauze in place?”

  Lillie shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that.”

  “Then what’s with this?” he asked, catching a tear with the pad of his thumb.

  She’d always loved the thick dark lashes that framed his eyes—eyes the same shade of blue as the periwinkle acrylic in her paint kit—but never more than right now, when despite everything she’d put him through, he looked upset. Not the worried expression he’d worn all those times he’d rushed her to the hospital, but a look that said he cared about her, still.

  “Well, I, thanks for this,” she said, easing her hand from his. “Guess I should get the dishes done...”

  She started to get up, but his big hand on her shoulder prevented it.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “The yolks will harden if I don’t—”

  “The dishwasher isn’t even hooked up yet.” He pointed at the machine, sitting at an odd angle against the wall, and the black hoses dangling from one side. “I worked hard on that enormous, crazy-looking bandage. No way am I letting you get it all wet.” Jase rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll do the dishes.” He refilled her mug. “You just sit there and look pretty.”

  Lillie had been miserable without him, but at least she’d known where she stood. Now, after he’d been so sweet, after those tender looks and thoughtful words, she wasn’t sure how to feel. Or how he felt, for that matter. Over the years, Jase had done a good job of making others think he was rough and tough, but she’d witnessed far too many examples of his sensitive side to believe it: pulling a baby duck out of the sewer; leaping into the murky harbor waters to save a wharf kitten from drowning; getting teary-eyed while watching the conclusion of the movie Sommersby. For all Lillie knew, today’s acts of kindness had more to do with his innate goodness than what she’d needed.