The Redemption of Lillie Rourke

by Loree Lough

  “Is your coffee hot enough?”

  “It’s perfect,” Lillie said. Just like you. Then she noticed his tattoo. “When did you get that?”

  He followed her gaze to the deep blue anchor on the inside of his forearm. “Got it about a year and a half ago, give or take a few weeks.”

  She’d been gone about a year...

  “Why not a guitar or a microphone? A treble clef? A semiquaver? Something that represents music?”

  “Music. Gimme a break.” He rinsed a plate and stood it in the dish rack. “The anchor symbolizes stability. And putting down an anchor represents the end of a journey.”

  Lillie surprised herself by saying, “That last year with me was the journey, right—a not-so-pleasant one—and the anchor is to remind you to stop drifting aimlessly, waiting for the day when I’ll finally keep a promise.”

  Jase froze in place for a second or two.

  “How’s the hand?” He put more energy than necessary into scrubbing the black skillet. “Throbbing by now, I’ll bet.”

  “My hand is fine.” It’s my heart that’s aching. Lillie added this moment to her list of regrets. “I’m sorry, Jase. I know you’ve heard that before, too many times to count, but it’s true. I never meant to drag you into my—”

  “You have any acetaminophen?” He added the pan to the dish rack.

  So that was how it was, huh? Evading any discussion of their past was enough to give him a headache? That hurt far more than the cut!

  “I’m sure Mom has a bottle in the powder room.” She got up, collected the tape and other supplies. “I’ll bring it for you after I put this stuff away.”

  Finally, Jase faced her. “It isn’t for me. I just figured you might need it.” He nodded at her hand. “For that.”

  She met his gaze, blink for blink. Moments ago, they’d glowed with warmth and affection. Now, they sparked with brittle mistrust, just as they had on the night she returned his ring.

  “I don’t take painkillers anymore.”

  “Never? Not even aspirin?”

  His expression softened, just enough that it inspired her to add, “I’ve learned it’s easier to live with some physical discomfort.”

  Jase dried his hands and draped the blue-checked towel over the clean dishes.

  “After all this time, you’re still hurting?”

  Never more than at this moment. But that wasn’t true. The heartache that began that awful night was the worst she’d ever experienced. And time hadn’t dulled it.

  “Where? What hurts?”

  She clutched the supplies closer to her aching heart. “My leg, mostly.” Turning, she took a few steps toward the hall. “Soon as I get these put away, we’ll get busy on those songs. You have better things to do than stand around talking about my aches and pains.”

  Lillie didn’t wait for him to agree. It took effort to make her way back down the hall without limping. Once everything was back inside the medicine cabinet, she quietly closed its door. “Fool,” she told her reflection, fighting back tears. How would she get through their rehearsal without blubbering like a baby? Losing him had hurt far more than any injury sustained in the accident. Being so near him, talking to him, looking into those remarkable, concerned eyes had awakened every sentiment she’d worked so hard to bury. He’d been her friend. Her confidant. Her first real love. She’d had a good, happy life before meeting him, but Jase had made it better. And she’d traded all that...for what?

  Lillie looked at her white-bandaged hand. In a week, maybe less, it’d be good as new. If only the injuries she’d caused Jase could be mended as easily.

  “Lillie...?”

  She jumped at the unexpected sound of his voice.

  “You’re crying again.”

  Lillie swiped at her traitorous tears. What right did she have to feel sorry for herself? Her disappointments had been self-inflicted, unlike those she’d thrust onto him.

  Eyes closed, she willed him to go away. She didn’t want to sing with him. Didn’t want him helping out with the Hopkins’ kids’ pretend wedding. Right now, all she wanted was—

  Before she knew what was happening, he’d drawn her into a loose hug, and she let him.

  “I know how hard you’ve been trying, Lill.”

  She felt his warm breath on her temple...right before his lips made contact with it.

  “You’re different somehow, so yeah, it’s clear that you’re working hard to stay clean. This time.”

  Who knew that two little words could sting as much as a cold slap?

  Lillie tried to back away, but the powder room was small, and she had nowhere to go.

  “Like I said before, you’re stubborn. You can beat this thing...if you want it badly enough.”

  Lillie felt like shouting “If? This time? I’ve already beat it! I’ve been clean for more than a year, and I’m going to stay that way!”

  She tried pushing him away, but he only tightened his hold. It wasn’t until he lifted her chin on a bent forefinger that she realized she’d said it all, out loud.

  “I know that, and I’m proud of you. I shouldn’t have tacked on that this time nonsense. That was...insensitive.”

  Lillie studied his face, searching for signs of sincerity. Or doubt. Relief flooded through her when a slow smile lit his face. Not enough to display that endearing dimple in his cheek, but a smile nonetheless. She inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, summoning every ounce of willpower in her.

  Because if he kept looking at her that way—the way he had before she destroyed them—Lillie feared she might say something to mess up the little bit of good she’d just earned in his eyes.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “HARD TO BELIEVE you haven’t picked up a guitar that you haven’t sung—except for the kids at Hopkins—in a year.” Jase shook his head. “Have I told you how great you sound?”

  Lillie blushed. “Only half a dozen times. Have I said thanks?”

  “Only half a dozen times.” He opened the screen door. “You’ll call me? When the kids get all the details figured out?”

  “Of course.”

  He noticed the slight hesitation, and wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t call. Although he’d tried hard to regulate his words, he’d upset her to the point of tears. Twice. What made him feel worse was the fact that Lillie had never been the type who cried easily. Not when the nurses forced her to walk the halls following every surgery, not when she pushed herself past her limits during physical therapy.

  Jase said, “Okay then, you have a good day.”

  “You, too.”

  “Say hi to your folks for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Should he hug her goodbye? Drop a quick kiss on her cheek? It didn’t seem right, considering everything they’d just shared, to leave without a gesture of some sort.

  So he winked. Winked!

  You’re a conceited jerk, he told himself.

  He considered asking her what a guy should wear to a make-believe wedding for children. If gifts were required. How many guests might attend the ceremony. But those were all things he’d find out later. Having run out of stall tactics, Jase turned and made a beeline for his truck. While sliding the guitar case onto the back seat, he caught a glimpse of her, still standing in the open doorway, uninjured hand raised in silent farewell.

  She looked like an angel, wavy hair glowing like a halo in a shaft of early-afternoon sunlight. He liked the physical changes in her...a little more meat on her bones, shorter hair, dresses and sandals instead of jeans and sneakers...

  Jase returned the wave and climbed into the pickup’s cab. As he drove away, it took effort to look straight ahead instead of catching a last glance at her.

  She’d made inward changes, too, things that a casual friend probably wouldn’t notice. Her serene bearing, for starters, contr
asted with her former hate-to-sit-still demeanor. And while her quick-witted sense of humor remained firmly intact, maturity had tamed her tendency to turn just about anything into a joke. A facade, he wondered, donned to prove how hard she’d worked to kick her habit?

  Waiting for the traffic light at Broadway and Fleet to turn green, Jase remembered the way she’d defended herself when his attempt at a show of support failed, miserably. “If?” she’d all but shouted. I’ve been clean for more than a year!

  For her sake, he hoped that was true. Hoped, too, that Lillie would still be clean a year—ten years from now.

  Jase had driven all of three blocks when his cell phone rang. He hit the Bluetooth answer button on his steering wheel.

  “Yeager...”

  “Jase, hi. It’s Lillie. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you about the inn’s grand reopening...”

  As they’d gone over the list of song titles she’d chosen, Jase had noticed a green folder on the turret’s oak coffee table. Invoices, its tab said, with a slash that added Reopening.

  “I’m sure Mom and Dad would love to see you there.”

  But you wouldn’t? “When is it?”

  “Two weeks from Saturday, between two and eight. Bring your appetite, because we’ll have a ton to eat.”

  “Wouldn’t be a Rourke get-together if there wasn’t. Your mom doesn’t know the meaning of ‘just a little food.’”

  He could almost hear her smile, and wished she had remembered to tell him about the opening, so he could see it in person.

  “Feel free to bring Whitney and your mom.”

  Whitney. He hadn’t told her about Whitney. But...but he’d held Lillie, consoled her. Did that mean anything to her?

  Jase’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.”

  “Well...enjoy the rest of your day.”

  The kind of thing you said to an acquaintance, not someone who had come this close to becoming your spouse.

  “You, too. And thanks again for breakfast. It was great.”

  You’re reaching, dude... But repeating himself was the only thing he could think of to keep her on the line. Although why he wanted that so badly, Jase didn’t know.

  Silence told him that Lillie had ended the call. It didn’t hit anywhere near as hard as when she’d pressed the engagement ring into his hand, but it didn’t feel good either. He searched his memory for the litany of phrases he’d recited to keep putting one foot in front of the other once the reality of the breakup had set in:

  Get over yourself.

  This is for the best.

  You didn’t deserve that.

  Stay busy.

  There was paperwork at the office, and he hadn’t been kidding about restocking his kitchen. Jase pictured his unmade bed. The magazines stacked lackadaisically and newspapers strewn across his sofa. He’d stop at the store, and once the groceries were put away, he’d tackle the mess and do some much-needed housekeeping. After that, he’d shower and pay a quick visit to Three-Eyed Joe’s. With any luck, the tasks would take up enough space in his head to crowd out thoughts of Lillie.

  How he’d push her out of his heart was another matter entirely.

  * * *

  THE DOOR HADN’T even closed behind him when someone shouted, “There he is, America’s newest TV star!”

  Every head in the pub turned toward the door. A few patrons waved, several more said, “Hey, Jase!” The rest quickly turned their attention back to the O’s game on the widescreen behind the bar.

  Deke tossed a towel over one shoulder and said, “What brings you here on this bright, sunshiny afternoon?”

  “Needed a Three-Eyed fix.” He winced at himself. Talk about insensitive. Especially after spending time with Lillie that morning, and witnessing firsthand how hard she was working to leave addiction in her past.

  “Beer?”

  “Nah, it’s a little early for booze. But it’s like an oven out there, so I’ll take a soda, lotsa ice...”

  After filling a tall curved glass, Deke came around the bar and settled on the stool beside Jase’s.

  “Okay, out with it, kid. What’s eatin’ you?”

  He’d never been able to hide anything from his old friend and saw no reason to start now.

  “Work has been crazy busy,” he began. “Whitney accepted a transfer to California. Mom refuses to accept that she needs to take better care of herself. And Lillie’s home.”

  “Man. You don’t believe in burying the lede or anything, do ya?”

  Jase took a long slow drink of soda.

  “Have you seen her? Is she doing okay?”

  “Saw her just this morning.” Jase explained how he’d offered to help out at the make-believe wedding at Hopkins, and about the practice session. “She sounds great. Looks great.” Really great, he didn’t add. “And unless she’s just telling me what she thinks I want to hear, she’s been clean for a year and a half.”

  “Well, good for her. Always liked that li’l sweetheart. Not only could she outsing any gal who’s got a label, but she’s got a heart of gold, too.”

  Jase nodded, remembering her rich, throaty notes...powerful, yet smooth and warm, like thick, sweet honey.

  “She’s matured in a lot of ways,” he told Deke.

  “Yeah?”

  “Not the mostly elbows and knees kid who left Baltimore for New York anymore, for one thing. She cut her hair. Doesn’t fidget like she used to. And she’s quieter.”

  Deke drummed his fingers on the lacquered surface of the dark wooden bar. “So when’s this fake wedding? Can anybody attend, or is it a closed ceremony?”

  “I’ll have to ask. But if I know Lillie, she’d love to see you again. She asked about you today.”

  Deke smiled. “Well, when you talk to her, tell her hey for me.” He leaned both beefy forearms on the bar and, looking directly at Jase, said, “So?”

  “So what?”

  “Don’t give me that, smart-mouth. So now that Whitney’s history, are you and Lill gonna pick up where you left off?”

  Jase stared at the intricate eagle-on-globe tattoo that decorated Deke’s forearm. Semper Fidelis said the ribbon that wrapped around it. Always faithful. Ironic, on multiple levels. But staring at the marine tattoo did nothing to distract him from the question.

  “Doubt it,” he answered.

  “Why?”

  “You want a numerical or alphabetical list of reasons?”

  “Aw, knock it off. You two were made for each other. So she got a little off track. She’s back on the straight and narrow now. Isn’t that what really counts?”

  His brain shuffled through all the lies, the broken promises, those scary trips to the ER when he thought for sure he’d lose her permanently.

  This time, Jase answered with a shrug.

  “What makes you think she’ll backslide?” Deke asked.

  Yet again, his mind raced with fears. And disappointments. “I don’t know that. I hope she’s kicked the addiction, for good this time.”

  Deke snorted. “Never knew you to be a coward.”

  Jase did a double take.

  Deke shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen? If you start over with her, I mean.”

  The big guy grabbed a thick pretzel stick from the tumbler on the bar, snapped it in two and bit off one end. Maybe his old pal was right. Maybe Jase was a coward. But Lillie held all the cards, held all the power, and she could break him just as surely as Deke had broken that pretzel. He’d survived it once. If there was a next time, would he be so lucky?

  “New tat?” he asked, pointing at the USMC inked across Deke’s knuckles.

  “Purty, ain’t it?” he said, flexing his fingers. “Reunion comin’ up in September. Got one more tat in mind, and just enough time to get it beforehand. Helo,” he said,
and using a fingertip, drew E/2/5 on the bar.

  “E-two-five?”

  “Echo Company, 2nd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment.”

  He recalled stories Deke had told—after downing a few after the customers had left and the pub was dark and quiet. The man had survived the horrors of war, lost his wife to a younger man, sidestepped bankruptcy—twice—yet never once thought of giving up. Jase felt a mix of shame and sorrow for his fear of another Lillie-related heartache.

  Sitting up straight, he snapped off a quick salute. “Thank you for your service, sir.”

  Deke returned the gesture, and grinning, added, “Don’t call me sir.”

  He’d heard the what-not-to-call-a-sergeant story before, but since Deke seemed in the mood to talk, Jase said, “Let me buy you a beer and you can remind me why.”

  Back on his side of the bar, Deke filled two glasses and slid one to Jase. “Because I worked for a living, that’s why.” He downed a mouthful of summer ale and used the back of one hand to wipe suds from his upper lip. “I’m an old man, so show me some respect, whippersnapper. Answer my question. And make it short and sweet. The joint will be jumpin’ soon.”

  “Which question?”

  Deke groaned, then repeated, “What’s the worst that could happen if you and Lillie got back together?”

  Only honesty, Jase believed, would bring this unpleasant subject to a close. “Life is unpredictable. Something could happen to make her turn to drugs again.”

  “Y’think? Like what?”

  “Her dad has a heart condition. What if—God forbid—it takes him from her?”

  Deke shook his head. “Call me obtuse, but didn’t she get into drugs in the first place to cut the pain from all the stuff she went through after the accident?”