The Redemption of Lillie Rourke

by Loree Lough

  Liam, Jase noted, hadn’t joined the conversation. He knew the man had never been overly fond of his mother. He gave it ten seconds, tops, before Liam mentioned other guests he and his wife needed to greet.

  Less, as it turned out...

  “Well, we’d better say hello to the mayor before she has to get back to the office.”

  It wasn’t like his mom to be at a loss for words, but there she stood, clearly searching for a topic that would break the difficult silence.

  Lillie solved the problem by stepping between them. “Come with me, you two,” she said, “and we’ll get you something to eat.” On the way to the dining room, she chattered about the weather, the bird feeder that had been raided by squirrels, a potted plant she’d forgotten to water in her hurry to get ready for the festivities. Once there, she gestured toward platters of meat and bowls filled with every imaginable side dish.

  “There are dips and chips, and fresh veggies on most of the end tables. Desserts are in the kitchen,” she said. “Everything from pudding to cheesecake.” Lillie looked up at him and, smiling, said, “Eat up, or I’ll have no choice but to send you home with doggie bags.”

  And when she left them to direct other guests to the spread, Jase felt a noticeable chill where her warm hand had touched his elbow. He regretted wearing the short-sleeved polo shirt after all, because long sleeves would have put something between his skin and hers.

  You’re behaving like a love-struck schoolboy, he admonished. The feelings underscored his need to make a decision, and make it soon. Otherwise, thoughts of her might distract him to the point of walking into the harbor.

  After finishing their meal, Colette ushered Jase through the inn’s first floor rooms, pointing out American art pottery, vintage glassware and china stored in glass-doored antique hutches and classic prints and maps that decorated every wall.

  “How old is this place?” she wanted to know.

  “If memory serves, Liam said it dates back to the 1790s.”

  She grinned. “Oh, my. Do you suppose there are ghosts?”

  Only the ghost of what Lillie and I once had...

  Gaze flicking around the rooms, he spotted her in the turret, introducing a silver-haired couple to her mother’s artwork. He searched his mind for an appropriate word to describe her, something that wasn’t trite, like pretty or beautiful, gorgeous or lovely. No question about it, she was all those things, but she was more. So much more. The only word that came to mind was also a cliché, but like Lillie, herself, it defined her: perfect.

  She’d often joked that there was an invisible thread connecting them, something ethereal, even metaphysical. It explained why she would call him right when he was thinking about and missing her, and why he’d so often finished her sentences. Whatever it was, Jase had a feeling it was what inspired her to turn around at that moment and single him out from dozens of others milling through the rooms.

  From time to time when he was a boy, Jase had wished for supernatural powers. To fly. To see through walls. To make things disappear. He felt that way right now, because nothing would please him more than to be alone with her again.

  “Jase, for goodness sake. What’s gotten into you today?”

  Eyebrows raised, he looked at his mother. “What?”

  “I raised you better. Stop staring at that girl!”

  “Sorry. Didn’t realize that’s what I was doing.” But can you blame me? Just look at her!

  Maybe he was seeing things. Had Lillie just beckoned him with a sideways nod? Jase couldn’t imagine what she’d want to say, but as she disappeared around the corner, he faced his mother.

  Colette smiled. “Lillie is so different now, I saw it in her eyes. Like the pretty young thing you first introduced me to. I saw something else, too.”

  “What?”

  “She’s still in love with you.” Colette gave him a gentle nudge.

  He hoped so. Oh man, did he hope so.

  “Have you heard of kintsugi, the method of repairing broken ceramics with a mixture of lacquer and gold? The Japanese believe it’s best to incorporate the repair into the vessel, instead of trying to hide it.”

  The metaphor wasn’t lost on him: Lillie had a few scars—some visible, others that didn’t show. And after one brief conversation with her, his mother believed he could mend the remaining breaks.

  She nudged him again. “Go to her.”

  He hesitated, and she added, “Don’t you see? You’re the gold, son. You’re the gold.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, and started for the kitchen, where Lillie had just plated up a slice of cheesecake.

  “Did you get enough to eat?” she asked, grabbing a fork.

  “Plenty. Everything was great.”

  Using the fork, she gestured toward the table, crowded with desserts. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Thanks, but I’m stuffed.”

  She handed him a wedge of chocolate cake anyway. “I’ve been thinking. This isn’t the time or place to discuss...things...so maybe if you’re not too busy tomorrow night, we can get together? Somewhere private? To talk?”

  “I don’t want to wait a whole day to hear what’s on your mind. Why not tonight at my place?”

  She’d just slid a bite of cheesecake into her mouth, and replied with a nod.

  “I can pick you up. Parking is the pits in my neighborhood.”

  “I remember. But there’s too much going on here tonight. We’ll be at the Sams’ tomorrow for a cookout. So, afterward?”

  It wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear, but he said, “What time?”

  “How’s seven?”

  Not nearly as good as now, but it would have to do. “Sure.”

  Someone from the other room called her name, and they simultaneously turned toward the door.

  She dropped the plastic plate into the recycling bin.

  “See you tomorrow. At seven.”

  “I’ll be waiting out front.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  And he meant it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  LILLIE WAS GLAD that she’d decided to take a day off from the restaurant. It felt good, being surrounded by family again. Her nieces each took a hand and led her to the big wooden swing set their dad had erected in the shade beyond their backyard pool.

  “Remember when you used to push us way high,” Katie said, taking hold of the chains, “and tell us to touch the sky with our toes?”

  “You bet I do. And I remember that you thought you could, too!”

  Kassie said, “We were five, so of course we did.”

  “Six,” her twin said, “but who’s counting.”

  “Hard to believe you’ll be eleven on your next birthday. What sort of a party are you planning?”

  “Mom wants to go to Swim World. Dad wants to take some of our friends camping.” Kassie rolled her eyes. “A bunch of us in an RV that sleeps ten?”

  Katie giggled. “No kiddin’! He’ll go crazy in the first half hour.”

  “I think we should have a sleepover right here.” Kassie pumped her feet, taking her swing high into the air. “We have a pool. Games. And a nice big basement where everybody could spread out their sleeping bags...”

  “Good luck with that. Mom says slumber parties are too much work.”

  “What if I helped?” Lillie said. It was the least she could do, since she’d missed their last two birthdays.

  “Really? You’d do that?” Kassie asked.

  “I’d love it.”

  Both girls squealed.

  “It’ll be fun. We can plan it together. And I’ll do all the work, so your mom can just relax, like any other guest.”

  “What’ll we do with the dogs? They’ll bark and eat all the snacks.”

  “We’ll put the snacks out of reach,” Lillie sa
id, “and after a while, they’ll get tired of yapping and find a quiet spot to snooze.” She stooped to pat their fuzzy heads, wincing slightly when she straightened.

  “What’s wrong, Aunt Lill? Is your leg hurting again?” Katie asked.

  “Just a little. Nothing to worry about. I should have iced it down after the opening yesterday, but I was so pooped that I just fell into bed.” Like Kassie, she rolled her eyes. “And now I’m paying for it. But don’t worry. It’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  Her leg had been bothering her a lot lately. After a lengthy discussion with her sponsor earlier in the month, she’d agreed to see her surgeon. The appointment had left her rattled, because another operation was the last thing Lillie needed, just when her life was getting back on track.

  “Daddy said you’re going to the hospital again, so the doctor can fix it.”

  “I didn’t realize your folks told you about that.”

  “We’re not babies, Aunt Lill.”

  “Sorry, Katie. I keep forgetting that. But don’t worry,” she repeated, “afterward, I’ll be good as new.”

  The girls exchanged a concerned look, and then Katie said, “Were you really a drug addict, Aunt Lill?”

  The question hit like a punch to the chest. Lillie wasn’t sure how to answer. No one had said it in so many words, but she got the impression her brother and his wife had skirted the issue, to protect the impressionable children from the ugly truth. Had they overheard something to prompt the inquiry now?

  “What have your parents told you?”

  “Daddy says you had a hard time after your accident, and took pills to make things easier.”

  “Lots of pills,” Katie added.

  “Mom said you slid down the rabbit hole for a while—whatever that means—but you’re better now.”

  Down the rabbit hole. What an interesting way to put it, Lillie thought. And since it seemed her nieces already knew the worst of it, she saw no reason to avoid the truth.

  “Your dad’s right. I had a hard time for a while there. And your mom’s right, too. What started out as a few pills to ease the pain turned into a whole bunch. So yeah, I was a drug addict.”

  Their wide-eyed, serious faces made her quickly tack on, “But that’s why I went to a special hospital in New York. I worked really hard, and I’m not addicted anymore. In fact, I haven’t taken any pills in a long, long time.”

  Her explanation didn’t seem to satisfy them. Maybe she’d provided too much information. Maybe they weren’t old enough to process it all.

  “Won’t the doctor prescribe more pills after the next operation?”

  “Maybe, but I won’t take them.”

  “But...won’t it hurt when they cut you?”

  “Probably,” she said, “but I’d rather deal with a little discomfort than go through rehab again.”

  “We can help,” Katie offered.

  “Right. We’ll visit you. A lot. And make you play all those stupid games that Daddy calls bored games.”

  Katie joined her sister’s laughter. “If that doesn’t get your mind off the pain, nothing will!”

  Lillie stood between the swings and pulled them to her in a sideways hug. “You know, I’m almost looking forward to the surgery now!”

  “Almost?”

  Laughing, Lillie said, “Well, I know I call myself your crazy aunt, but I’m not really crazy!”

  She kissed Katie’s cheek, then Kassie’s. “I want you to promise me something, girls.”

  “Sure, Aunt Lill,” Kassie said, and Katie added, “Anything.”

  “This is serious. Real serious. And I’m going to hold you to this promise, all of your lives.”

  Again, the twins exchanged a puzzled glance.

  “Promise me you won’t ever make the same mistakes I did. If your doctor prescribes medicine, follow the instructions to the letter. But never, ever take any other drugs, no matter what your friends do or say.”

  She met their eyes, first Kassie’s, then Katie’s.

  “So? Do I have your promise?”

  The twins raised their right hands, fingers forming the Scouts’ salute. “Promise,” they said in unison.

  “It’s time for dessert,” Lillie’s brother called. “Get in here, or I’m eating your share!”

  Her nieces hopped down from the swings. “He isn’t kidding,” they said, each taking one of Lillie’s hands again.

  “I remember,” she said, ignoring her throbbing leg as they raced across the yard. “When we were little, I used to call him a big horse with a feed bag over his face.”

  “Oh, he is so gonna hear that next time he tries to steal a bite of pie,” Kassie said.

  “Or a spoonful of ice cream.”

  “What’s so funny?” her brother asked as they entered the kitchen.

  “Oh, nothing—” Lillie winked at her nieces “—Flicka.”

  The girls wrapped their arms around his waist, giggling too hard to speak.

  “Flicka is a girl horse, Aunt Lill!” Katie said.

  Sam, still looking confused, said, “Yeah. Flicka is a girl.”

  Her addiction had deprived Lillie of scenes like this one, and for what was probably the thousandth time since entering Rising Sun, she sent a silent thanks to Pete, whose advice and connections had freed her in every imaginable way.

  After a make-your-own-sundae dessert, the girls dragged Lillie to the sun porch, where they assembled the materials needed to construct wind chimes from old keys. Surprisingly, Molly—not one to join any game or project that involved children—sat down and asked how she might help. Kassie and Katie handed her a stack of newspapers, and once they covered the table’s surface, gave her two cans of spray paint.

  “These need to be pink,” Kassie said, spreading an assortment of keys across the paper, “and these need to be blue.”

  After an hour of tying fishing line to twigs, then tying keys to each strand, they’d produced half a dozen noisemakers...one for each of the girls, one for their mom, one for Molly and one for Lillie.

  “Who gets the last one?” Molly asked.

  “Aunt Lillie gets an extra one. This was her idea, after all.”

  She met Kassie’s eyes. “I can’t believe you remembered after all this time.”

  “Are you kidding? We’ve been saving keys forever, just so we could do this craft with you!”

  Lillie knew exactly where she’d hang hers...and exactly what she’d do with the extra chimes.

  “Sam told me that one of your Hopkins kids died,” Molly said.

  The girls’ cheery faces turned sad. “Oh, no,” Kassie said. “Which one?”

  “Jason.”

  “The one who wanted to marry that little girl?”

  Nodding, Lillie wondered how they’d learned about all that.

  “Daddy says he always liked you, but never more than since you got back from New York.”

  “Yeah,” Katie agreed. “Mom says the same thing.”

  “‘From the mouths of babes,’” Molly quoted.

  Another scene for the memory book, Lillie thought. She ought to start a journal, chronicling every warm and happy moment she experienced now.

  She’d keep it nearby, so that when the post-op discomforts seemed too tough to bear, she could flip through the pages and remind herself how very blessed she was...without drugs.

  * * *

  JASE’S TRUCK WAS parked out front when she stepped onto the porch at five minutes to seven. He leaned against the passenger door, one booted ankle atop the other, arms crossed over his chest. All he needed, Lillie thought, was a cowboy hat, and he could pass for a romance novel hero.

  “What’re you grinning about?” he asked, opening her door.

  “Can’t a gal just be in a good mood?”

  “I suppose,” he said as she slid onto
the seat.

  Lillie hoped he hadn’t noticed that even that minuscule action made her wince.

  “The twins said to tell you hello,” she said as he buckled up.

  “Yeah? Cool. How are they doing?”

  “They’re terrific. So smart. And sweet. And inquisitive...”

  “Oh?”

  “They came right out and asked if I was an addict.”

  Jase inhaled. “Way to put you on the spot, huh?”

  “I didn’t see much point in dodging the question. So now they know. And the conversation gave me the perfect opportunity to make them swear they’d never do drugs.”

  “Still, had to be tough.”

  “Funny thing is, the more times I tell the story, the easier it gets.”

  He nodded at the package on her lap. “What’s that?”

  “Oh, just a little something the girls and Molly and I made yesterday. I thought you might like it for your back porch.”

  Jase laughed. “What back porch? It’s stairs leading to a five-by-five platform. Barely enough room to turn around, especially when the screen door is open.”

  “It was plenty big enough for a few things.”

  He licked his lips, and she could tell he was remembering how, at the conclusion of one of their first rehearsals in his living room, he’d kissed her good-night on that very porch. She wondered if the elderly woman across the way still lived there. She’d banged a ladle on a soup pot, yelling, “Take that craziness back inside, fools! Nobody wants to see the pair of you lockin’ lips!”

  “Yeah, every now and then when I toss a bag of trash into the garbage can, I can still hear Mrs. Aikens, calling us fools.”

  It was a good memory. Bittersweet, too, since it reminded her yet again of all they’d had—and lost—because of her habit.

  During the remainder of the short drive to his row house, Jase talked about the party. He complimented the tasteful decorations, the food, the catering crew, even the music, provided by a DJ.

  “Your mom surprised me,” Lillie admitted.

  “Not nearly as much as you surprised her.”

  “I should have apologized a long time ago.”