The Redemption of Lillie Rourke

by Loree Lough

  He retrieved the guitar and slammed the door. Hard. “What kind of jerk blames an aging war hero for his own stupid choices?”

  The woman in the SUV beside his pickup rolled down her window. “What’s that, sir? Is everything all right?”

  “Fine, fine. Everything’s fine. Sorry,” he said, and before she could reply, Jase half ran back to the hospital. What. Have. You. Gotten. Yourself. Into? he chanted with each step.

  He’d gotten himself into spending time with Lillie, that’s what. He’d sit beside her, strum the old Yamaha, sing a few songs, and then, finally, when they were alone, he could take Deke’s advice.

  If he was lucky, she’d repeat that defiant line from this morning: “I’ve already beat it... I’ve been clean for more than a year!”

  He’d almost believed it then. Maybe tonight—

  The last thing Jase expected when he rounded the corner was to see Sally, forehead resting on Lillie’s shoulder.

  It could only mean one thing.

  He put down the guitar and went to them. “Lill...?”

  She extended her uninjured hand and, without thinking twice, he took it.

  “Where’s her dad?”

  “Down the hall.”

  He mouthed, “Not with Sally?”

  “She asked him to find out why Jason’s mother was crying.”

  As if they didn’t already know. He’d say something comforting...if he had any idea what. Lillie cared about that boy. Jase knew by the way she’d brightened, just talking about him. Lillie needed more from him now than hollow platitudes. Besides, anything he said or asked would upset Sally further.

  Jase settled for giving Lillie’s hand a squeeze. She squeezed back, just as she had when they’d been a couple.

  Brant walked in, tucking a starched hanky into his breast pocket as he moved closer to Sally’s bed. He put a hand on Sally’s head. “Is she okay?”

  “A little calmer now.”

  “That’s good. A relief.” He punctuated the sentence with a craggy sigh. “Thanks, Lillie,” he said, his voice softly coarse. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot when he glanced at Jase. “You guys don’t need to hang around,” he added, looking back at Lillie. “Sal and me, we’ll be okay.”

  He didn’t blame the man for not wanting an audience when he told his little girl that her pal had died. Jase pitied him. In Brant’s shoes, he’d be a falling-down wreck, wondering if—or when—his little girl might suffer the same fate.

  The adults exchanged stiff-lipped goodbyes, and Brant promised to call Lillie with any updates.

  Jase grabbed his guitar case, and they left the room, still hand in hand. They’d made it as far as the nurse’s station when she said, “I’ll just be a minute.” He watched her approach a weeping nurse and wrap the woman in a hug.

  He couldn’t hear the specifics of their conversation, but he didn’t need to. Lillie’s sympathetic expression and the way she rested a hand on the woman’s forearm told him everything he needed to know. She was doing what Lillie did best, meting out comfort.

  A minute passed, and as the nurse ducked into a room across the hall, a second staffer approached Lillie. Yet another nurse joined the hug. So much for the theory that medical personnel didn’t get involved in their patients’ lives, Jase told himself.

  As they made their way toward the exit, doctors, interns, even custodians exchanged condolences with her. She cared about them, and they felt the same way. And not just because of young Jason.

  It didn’t surprise him. Lillie never had trouble getting along with others. It was what made it so easy for her to command attention whenever she had a mic in her hand.

  She returned to his side, knuckling tears from her eyes. “For such a little guy, he made a big impression on a lot of people.”

  Look who’s talking, he thought.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “We’ll grab a sandwich or something.” He’d table the question for now—Lillie needed better from him on that score, too.

  He placed a hand in the middle of her back, and she pressed into his side as he led her to the elevator. Eyes on the numbers above the door, Lillie exhaled slowly. “I wish you could have met him. In a lot of ways, he reminded me of you. He was...”

  Tears choked off her words. What could he do but puller her closer?

  As they made their way past the information counter and the security check-in, silence settled on them like a comforting blanket. It tightened as he guided her through the hospital’s enormous revolving doors.

  “Where are you parked?” he asked.

  “Top floor of the garage.”

  “I’ll walk you up.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

  “I know, but I want to.”

  A shaky little smile was her only response. Once they’d reached the top floor, Lillie pointed toward the concrete half wall that surrounded the space. “I’m over there. No need to lose the elevator car. I’m fine. Honest.”

  “How about if I follow you home? That way, you can drop off your mom’s car. I know a nice quiet place where we can talk about Jason.” He watched as one well-arched brow rose slightly. “Or not,” he quickly added. “I have questions. About the boy. The wedding. And stuff.”

  For now, it seemed best to let her believe he needed to talk.

  “Okay.”

  She took a few steps closer to the car, then stopped and faced him. His heart sank.

  “Don’t you feel weird?”

  “Sometimes...”

  “Not weird in general. I mean, you’re following me back to my folks’ house. Don’t you feel weird, being friends with someone my age who still lives with her parents?”

  Was she kidding? As long as she stayed at the inn, he knew she was safe.

  “Not at all.”

  “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather I just meet you someplace?”

  And miss the chance to ride to and from the restaurant with her?

  “I’m sure.”

  He watched her drive away. In twenty minutes, tops, he’d be with her again. So why did he get the feeling it would seem more like two hours?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I’M SORRY MOM and Dad aren’t home,” Lillie said, climbing into the passenger seat. “They would have loved to see you.”

  “Yeah?” He chuckled. “Well, I think they’re avoiding me.”

  She laughed, too. “No, of course not. They’ve always loved you. Tonight, they’re spending some time with the Sams.”

  He rested a hand on her seat back to look over his shoulder and back out of the drive. “Somebody’s birthday?”

  “Just a simple supper, and if I know the twins, some gin rummy.”

  “They’re the reason I can’t play cards anymore. Those little con artists completely destroyed my confidence, I tell ya.”

  “You’re not fooling anyone. They won every game because you let them.”

  He tried to deny it, but Lillie knew better.

  “So am I dressed all right for this super-secret restaurant we’re going to?”

  “Absolutely. It’s quiet, nothing fancy. And it’s a nice night, so I’m hoping they’ll have a table outside on the deck. The view is—”

  “Let me guess...the Waterfront Kitchen.”

  Jase thumped the steering wheel. “Man. You sure know how to spoil a surprise.”

  Had he forgotten that he’d made arrangements to leave the pub early the night he’d proposed to her...to celebrate with a quiet dinner at the Waterfront? Lillie didn’t know if she could handle the memories. And it seemed wrong to celebrate so soon after hearing that Jason hadn’t survived his surgery.

  “Be honest now...how are you doing? With the Jason thing, I mean.”

  “Mind reader,” she said under her breath.

 
“Nah. It just happened. Doesn’t take psychic abilities to figure things out. Besides, you lit up like a Christmas tree talking about that boy, so...”

  Lillie’s eyes filled with tears. “Mom warned me not to get emotionally involved with the kids.”

  “If you hadn’t gotten involved, you wouldn’t be you. And I saw the way everyone reacted to losing him. Seems to me even the pros find it tough to take that advice.”

  They spent the remainder of the short drive to the restaurant in comfortable silence. It gave her time to remember a few more good things about Jase. That way he had of getting straight to the point. And his talent for reading people’s moods, hers in particular. It had been one of the reasons she’d never been able to fool him when she was high, once he’d figured out that she was using.

  Just as he’d hoped, there was room on the restaurant’s deck. The hostess led them to a table along the rail and left them with menus. As Jase opened his, a light breeze riffled his hair and the collar of his shirt. Watching him made it difficult to enjoy the hazy orange glow of the setting sun, sailboats and schooners, smokestacks and barges out there in the harbor. Now, more than ever, Lillie wished she’d been stronger, that she hadn’t put pain management above her love for him—and his for her. Dealing with the nonstop ache in her leg taught her that she could cope with pain. If only she’d known that then.

  “Don’t look so sad, Lill. I know how much you cared about Jason.”

  Until he spoke, Lillie hadn’t realized her thoughts were visible on her face. Thankfully, the waitress showed up, sparing Lillie the need to reply.

  Jase ordered sweet tea for both of them. Flashing his best onstage smile at the young woman, he added, “Give us a few minutes with the menu, will you?”

  He scooted his chair closer to hers. “I’m sorry about Jason.”

  “Yeah, he was a really special little boy.”

  “Wish I’d known him.”

  “He was always looking out for everyone’s feelings.” Like you, she thought. “Did I tell you why he wanted the wedding?”

  “I’m not sure. Remind me.”

  How like him to pretend he hadn’t heard the story before, simply because he suspected she needed to talk about it. She told him the story, near tears at the end.

  “Some good came of it, though,” he said, looking at her. “It gave him something positive to focus on for a change. Gave him the feeling he was in control of something.”

  He was right, of course, and she said so.

  “Sweet tea times two,” the waitress said, delivering their glasses. “Ready to order your entrée yet?”

  “Haven’t even cracked the menu,” Jase told her. “Sorry.”

  “No hurry. I’ll be back.”

  “So,” he said, pretending to read the list of options, “what’re you in the mood for? Ratatouille? Pan-seared tuna? Steak?”

  “The crab cake was good, last time we were here.”

  Although he didn’t look up, something told her he, too, remembered everything about that night. She suddenly wondered how Whitney would feel about this dinner... In the shock of Jason’s death, and then her gratefulness for Jase’s presence, she hadn’t considered how he might be feeling. No doubt conflicted—wanting to comfort Lillie but not wanting to hurt Whitney.

  “You’re right,” he said. “That’s what I’ll have, too.” Jase set the menu aside. “How are they in New York?”

  Keep it casual. “Oh, they’re edible, but the chefs could take a few lessons from Baltimoreans.”

  “Our chefs do some things right, for sure.”

  She laughed. “I remember once, when my agent set me up in a pub in Richmond, I ordered steamed crabs from this little sidewalk-type café. They were boiled, not steamed. Soggy. No spice. Bleh!”

  “That violates just about every culinary rule on the books. Boiled? Why would anyone do such a thing!”

  “The cook didn’t know any better, I guess,” she said as the waitress returned. They ordered, and Lillie watched Jase. He had something on his mind. She could tell by the set of his jaw.

  “Are you thinking about Whitney?” she asked.

  A strange look crossed his face before his brows drew together. “Whitney? No...it didn’t work out between us, actually.”

  They’d broken up? When? Why? She had so many questions, but his closed-off expression told her maybe it wasn’t the best time to ask. She had no idea he’d been dealing with a breakup. Lillie wanted to comfort him.

  “Jase, I’m so sorry.” And she meant it. He deserved to be happy, but...that glimmer of hope that he’d be happy with her...feelings she’d been trying to smother...flared within her. Was that awful?

  Jase gave a warm smile. “It was for the best. But thanks, Lill.” He directed his attention to the water, seemingly closing the subject. And she let him. He pointed out some boats and landmarks, visible across the harbor, commenting on the sights.

  “How’s your tea? Sweet enough?” he asked.

  Lillie took a sip. Evidently, he was more comfortable with small talk, and for now, she was too. It had been a good idea, coming here. The ache of little Jason’s passing had dimmed a bit.

  “It’s perfect.” He was still smiling when she said, “Thanks for suggesting this, Jase. It’s just what I needed tonight.”

  “Me, too.”

  As they enjoyed their meals, Jase talked about the TV show. His mom’s latest creations. The host he’d requested during his last trip to Florida because the guy didn’t dominate every second of airtime, pointing out overly obvious things about the products the way his last host had.

  “She never lets the callers get a whole sentence out before interrupting them,” he said. “I remember one lady—from California, I think—who said something along the lines of ‘You must have been a middle child.’ I didn’t get it until after the host admitted it was true. It was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud when the caller said ‘No wonder you’re never quiet.’” Even now, leaning back in his chair, Jase chuckled.

  It was good to see him looking so rested and relaxed. “Did that quiet your host down?”

  “’Fraid not.”

  This time, Lillie laughed with him, and decided not to spoil the moment by guiding him toward the real reason—or reasons—he’d invited her here.

  The waitress stacked their plates. “Dessert tonight?”

  “Cheesecake,” Jase said. “And cappuccino.” He looked at Lillie. “Want your own, or can we share?”

  The way we used to do... She remembered the times they’d had mock battles, using their forks as swords, fighting over the last bite. “I’d love to share.” And the truth was, she’d love to share far more with him than a slice of cheesecake.

  * * *

  LILLIE CLIMBED INTO the truck. “I don’t think there’s so much as the hint of a breeze.”

  “Good thing it didn’t decide to take a break while we were eating. It might’ve cooled the food faster, but it kept the flies away.”

  Jase closed the passenger door, knocking on the hood as he made his way around to the driver’s side. Lillie had barely had time to process her feelings about Jason’s death. So he’d avoided explaining about Whitney, and the question Deke had suggested, and kept the conversation light and upbeat. Not that he’d had to try very hard, looking across the table at her pretty face and listening to her lovely voice.

  In ten minutes, they’d arrive at the inn, and he dreaded saying goodbye.

  “How would you feel about taking a drive?”

  “Where?”

  “No place in particular. I just...it’s such a nice night...”

  Lillie sighed, and Jase prepared himself for her to recite a list of reasons why not: It was late. She had to work early. What would her parents say. Jason’s death.

  “It’s nearly ten o’clock...”

 
Nodding, Jase prepared himself to set his disappointment aside and agree with her. And then she turned to face him.

  “It is a nice night. How about if instead of a drive, we go back to the inn. My folks will be out until at least midnight—they had tickets to a play at the Hippodrome after supper with the Sams, and planned to stop for ice cream after that—so we’d have the gazebo all to ourselves.”

  That beat the alternative by a long shot.

  “We’ve got cheese and crackers. Chips and salsa, too. And this morning, I made lemonade. Fresh squeezed!”

  “I couldn’t eat another bite, but who could say no to your fresh-squeezed lemonade?” As if he needed an enticement.

  Her smile, illuminated by the green glow of the dashboard dials, touched a long-forgotten place inside him, a place he wasn’t sure he wanted to fully expose to the light. At least, not yet.

  He smiled, too, as she talked about the clouds that had moved in, as she hoped forecasters had been wrong, because she’d just dusted the roses with insecticide, “...and that stuff is expensive!”

  Minutes later, he waited patiently as she searched her tote bag for her keys. For as long as he’d known her, Lillie had carried enormous purses. A smaller pocketbook would be easier to carry, he’d once suggested. Her reply? Right. And then where would you be if you needed a tissue. An aspirin. A bandage. The memory made him grin. He’d dubbed her Ready for Anything Lillie, and she’d liked it!

  She hung the enormous purse on a peg near the door, and Jase snickered to himself, hoping it wouldn’t pull down the whole wall.

  “Let’s grab our drinks before we go out back,” she said, leading the way down the hall.

  The inn was dark and quiet, except for the small lamp on the foyer table and another beckoning to them from somewhere in the kitchen. He liked the way she looked, silhouetted by the light.

  He watched as she puttered around the kitchen, finding tumblers, adding ice, pouring their drinks. He considered offering to help, but that would mean taking his eyes off her. It worried him a little, recognizing how much he liked watching her.