by Amy Vastine
Lillie grinned. “No, nothing like that. I volunteer at Hopkins Children’s Oncology every couple of weeks, and my material is getting stale. Those kids are going through enough without me adding boredom to their lives. Not that they complain. They’re the bravest little souls I’ve ever met.”
Lillie tended to ramble when nervous, and he felt bad that his nearness made her feel that way. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly feeling comfortable either, especially given his decision to give things with Whitney a real chance.
“My cousin was in there a few years ago,” the kid said, sliding another songbook over the screen. “Leukemia won.”
Jase watched as Lillie, ever the caring comforter, lay a hand atop his.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “How old was he?”
“Fourteen.”
How many times had he told her that her heart was bigger than her head? Too many to count.
The cashier bagged her music and hit the register button to ring up her total. “It’s really nice, what you’re doing,” he said, handing her the receipt. “The thing he hated most about that place was how long the days were with nothing to do but watch TV and listen to his monitor beep.”
Jase had to agree… It was a good thing she was doing.
She thanked the kid and turned to face Jase. “Well, it was a nice surprise, seeing you again.”
“Can you hang around a minute, just until I pay for this stuff?”
She looked surprised, and in truth, he’d surprised himself. But he couldn’t just let her leave. Not without finding out more about her work at the hospital. And what, if anything, rehab had inspired her to do about him.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll wait for you over by the door.”
The kid made small talk with him, too, but Jase barely heard a word as he watched her from the corner of his eye. Silhouetted against the bright sunshine coming through the window, he couldn’t help noticing the way her chin-length hair curled above her shoulders. She used to dress like a tomboy. Sneakers and jeans with comfy T-shirts, like she’d worn to plant flowers that day in her parents’ yard. But that little dress—
“All set,” the kid said, holding up Jase’s bag.
He thanked the boy and wasted no time joining Lillie.
“You want to grab a cup of coffee?” He held open the door, hoping that slight frown didn’t mean she’d say no. “It’s only a short walk to Café Latte-Da…”
“On Aliceanna Street. I remember.”
Of course she did, because they used to go there at least once a week to decide the order of the songs they’d sing at Three-Eyed Joe’s.
“So what do you say? I’ll treat you to a sandwich. Or pie. Or both.” Recalling how little it took to fill her up, he added, “We could share…”
Her sweet, sad smile told him she, too, remembered all the meals they’d shared. And again, it made his heart beat a bit harder.
“I don’t have to be at work until six, so okay, pie and coffee it is.”
They were waiting for the light to change at Fleet and Aliceanna when she said, “This won’t upset Whitney, will it?”
“She won’t mind if I have coffee with an old friend.”
“I, well, that day at the Flower Basket, I got the impression she knows that we were a couple.”
“Were,” he repeated, “past tense. And like I said, it’s just two pals, catching up over coffee.”
The image of that candlelit table in his hotel room flashed in his mind, reminding him that Whitney might not see it that way. “So how long have you had this Hopkins gig?”
“Couple months now.”
The light changed, and he pressed a hand to her lower back and guided her across the street. Not that she needed his assistance. Still, it felt good, felt right, being this close to her, shielding her from potential harm.
Inside Café Latte-Da, Jase admitted that he’d skipped breakfast.
“The guy who’s forever reminding people it’s the most important meal of the day?” Lillie laughed.
“Just got back from Florida and didn’t have time to make a grocery run. My cupboards are as bare as Mother Hubbard’s.”
“I caught the last few minutes of the casserole demonstration. You were born to be a TV host.”
He and Lillie had performed at a couple charity functions that aired on local television. While watching the tapes with her afterward, Jase had remarked how well they worked together. “No need to sound so surprised,” she’d said then. “That’s how it is when people are meant to be together.”
“I think I’ll get the chicken wrap. What about you?” he asked. “In the mood for something more substantial than pie?”
“Just coffee, thanks.”
“Thought I heard your belly growl earlier…”
“I’ll whip up a sandwich or something before I clock in at the hotel.”
When she’d paid for the sheet music, Jase saw a lone ten-dollar bill in her wallet. He knew her well enough to understand why she’d said no: Lillie had decided that until she’d repaid every dime she owed, she wouldn’t take anything more from him. Unnecessary as that was, Jase respected her decision.
And wondered if it went hand in hand with some goateed therapist’s advice: “If you want to stay clean, kick that guy to the curb.”
They found an empty table near the door—a rare occurrence on a Saturday afternoon—and settled in.
“Tell me about this volunteer work. When did you sign on for that?”
“A week or so after I got home, I gave in to a moment of self-pity.” She stared out the window. “It made me realize it was time to stop focusing on me and start focusing on others.” Gaze locked on his, she added, “Best—and worst—thing I have ever done.”
He didn’t get it, and said so.
“Life has put those kids through the wringer. Some of them are barely hanging on, but they’re hanging on tight. A person can’t help but admire the fight in them.” She sipped her espresso. “Hard to feel sorry for yourself after spending time with them.”
It made sense, considering how she’d always said that self-pity was the most dangerous emotion.
“Must be tough, though, working that closely with them.”
“Only during the drive home.”
“Why?”
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Because I never know which of them won’t be there when I go back.”
And not because they’d gone home, healthy, he surmised.
She started talking about individual kids, their diseases and conditions, the parents and siblings that supported them and the staff that cared for and comforted them. Hands folded on the table, Lillie said, “And then there’s little Jason, the sweetest, cutest ten-year-old boy you’ll ever meet. He told me the other day that he wants to marry one of the girls—Sally—because his mom’s biggest regret is that she’ll never see him walk down the aisle with the girl of his dreams.”
Swiping at a wayward tear, she added, “Then he asked me if I’d sing at their wedding and help him make arrangements. Flowers. Streamers. Punch. Cake.”
Even before she said so, Jase knew that she’d agreed to everything. He wanted to take her in his arms, tell her what a terrific person she was. Admit how proud he was of the way she’d come through rehab. And that he’d missed her.
But he’d made a promise to himself, a promised that included Whitney, not Lillie. And it wouldn’t be fair to any of them if he went back on it. Still…
“How can I help?”
“Help?” Her eyes widened. “You?”
“Hey. Quit looking so shocked. I do nice stuff once in a while.”
“I know that better than almost anyone,” was her quiet reply.
Jase hoped she wouldn’t recite a list: Money he’d loaned her. Times he’d driven her to the ER. All the ways she’d betr
ayed him. And how everything had hurt him, deeply.
“Maybe we can work up a couple of tunes, two or three of the things we’d sing at Three-Eyed Joe’s when people were celebrating anniversaries, and perform them at this little wedding.”
Helping out at the hospital wasn’t really the same as breaking his promise to Whitney. Or was it? What kind of man was he turning into?
“I think the kids might like that.”
She thought the kids might like it? Why the hesitation? And then it hit him: she was just as afraid of being close, of reliving warm and wonderful moments, as he was.
“Then let’s put our heads together, figure it out… When is this ceremony, anyway?”
“In two weeks.” There wasn’t a trace of a smile on her face when she added, “Unless…”
“Keep a good thought, Lill. If the kid is determined to do this for his mom, he’ll make it. And who knows? Maybe it’s just what he needs to push him closer to recovering.”
She brought the espresso cup to her lips and, nodding, met his eyes.
He cleared his throat and downed a gulp of his iced tea. “So where do you think we should get together? My place? We’d have plenty of quiet and privacy there.”
Too much, too soon, he realized when her eyes grew big.
“The acoustics are great in the inn’s turret. I’m sure Mom and Dad won’t mind. In fact, they were just asking about you the other day. I’m sure they’d love seeing you.”
“Sounds good. I don’t go back to Florida for a month, so my schedule is pretty flexible. You’re the one who’s clocking 200 hours a week, so…”
“Seems you haven’t changed much,” she said, smiling. “Still exaggerating to make a point…one of the things that made me crazy about you.”
She gasped a little when that last line came out and, hands over her mouth, Lillie said, “Good grief. I’m sorry, Jase. That was really inappropriate. And bad timing.”
“It’s neither, and it’s okay. Nothing wrong with remembering the good times. We had plenty of those before…”
Lillie shoved the espresso cup into the center of the table, her way of saying their meeting was over. She gathered her things and stood, and he did, too.
“So should I call you?” she asked. “Or would you rather call me? About a time when we can get together. To rehearse, I mean.”
Rambling again. And again, he felt bad for raising her stress level. “Do you have a pen?”
Like magic, she produced one from her purse.
Leaning over the table, he scribbled three phone numbers on a napkin. “Home, cell and office,” he said, “in that order. You can always get me on my cell. Call anytime.”
Call soon, he thought. As he pressed the napkin into her hand, their fingers touched. Not for long—a blink in time, if that—but long enough to send an ache straight to his heart.
He’d been behaving like some guilt-ridden goofball who’d dumped his best girl, when in reality, Lillie had ended them by choosing booze and pills over what they’d had.
It hit him like a punch to the gut: suggesting that they get together, for any reason, had been a bad idea. Mostly because it would hurt Whitney. Suddenly, Jase was sorry he’d invited Lillie here. Sorry he’d given her his numbers. Sorry he’d suggested working up a couple of numbers for the fake wedding.
Jase added idiot to the list of things he’d been calling himself. Feeling miserable and confused, Jase held open the café door.
A tiny frown furrowed her brow. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just remembered something I forgot to do.” Like…calling Whitney.
“Oh. Because you look…different.”
“Don’t mind me,” he said, leading the way across the street. “I’m a little annoyed with myself, is all. I hate forgetting things.”
“I remember what a perfectionist you are, and how frustrated you get with yourself when you let something slip through the cracks.”
Yeah, she knew him, all right. Their closeness was what allowed her to use him, time and again, to suit her addiction.
Traffic had picked up considerably, thanks to the Orioles’ win. Between the noise of passing traffic, honking horns and the exuberant shouts of fans, Jase could barely hear himself think. It seemed to take forever to get back to the music shop.
“Where are you parked?” he asked.
“Right behind the store.”
“Me, too. Guess we’re stuck with each other for a few more minutes.”
He hadn’t intended to sound short-tempered. And the way she looked at him—as if she’d just seen his face on a wanted poster—told him it surprised her even more. It wasn’t fair, taking things out on Lillie, even if she had waltzed into his life just when he’d finally pulled himself together.
Or thought he had…
“When are you scheduled to go back to Hopkins?”
By now, she’d fished her keys from her purse and, standing behind her dad’s red Jeep, Lillie leveled him with a what’s-your-problem? gaze. “Next week. Tuesday.”
“And when’s this wedding supposed to happen?”
“The following week. On Saturday. I know this must seem like a lot of time and effort. But I have to do it. I gave my word. The only glitch might be talking my bosses into giving me the day and night off. Saturdays are busy.”
“If they give you any grief, they’re heartless.”
“Not really. I was totally honest about my past, so it’s only natural that they watch me like a hawk, and count every penny in the cash drawer. If I ask for the day off, I know exactly what they’ll think.”
That she wants to cash her paycheck and spend it on drugs or booze. Or both. And maybe, just maybe, she would.
“When I managed the pub, it drove me nuts when people called in at the last minute—or didn’t call in at all—and forced me to scramble to fill their hours. You’re giving them more than enough time to switch the schedule up a bit. And I’m willing to bet your replacements will be glad about the extra hours.”
“True. And worst-case scenario, I’ll have a slightly longer walk getting to and from a new job.”
He fished out his keys from his pocket. “Well, I’d better get to the office. Couple of things I need to check on…” Before you call Whitney.
“And I need to get busy on supper.” Lillie smiled. “One of the best things about being home again is having access to a full kitchen.”
“I thought you had an apartment above Pete’s?”
She shrugged. “Just a minifridge, microwave and hotplate. And a sink the size of a shoebox. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. You know the old saying.”
“There are a lot of old sayings…”
“‘Beggars can’t be choosers.’ Pete let me stay in the apartment, rent free. He said I was doing him and Betty a favor, keeping the doors from squeaking and the appliances from getting moldy. But they weren’t fooling me. They paid me nearly double what they paid everyone else.” She leaned in and cupped a hand beside her mouth. “Which would have started a mutiny if the others found out.” She straightened to add, “So when I wasn’t waiting tables, I did their bookkeeping and cleaned the pub and their condo.”
Talking about her history couldn’t be easy. Admitting the price she’d paid to get back on track had to be tougher still. But Jase remembered other times she’d claimed to have stopped using; he had no desire to travel that rocky road again.
“Good seeing you,” she said, sliding in behind the steering wheel.
“You, too.” And despite the hard memories, it had been good spending time with her again.
He made his way to the pickup, watching from the corner of his eye as she turned right. In minutes, she’d arrive at her parents’ inn on South Amelia Street, where the people and surroundings made him feel like family. He missed the place. Missed the people, too, and bit back
the urge to blame Lillie’s addiction for taking it all away from him.
Jase maneuvered the truck onto the minuscule parking pad behind his row home. As soon as he settled in for the evening, he’d call Whitney. It was long past time for an honest, open exchange.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“GUESS WHAT,” LILLIE announced over supper, “I’ve saved up enough to get my own car and insurance, and repay Jase.”
Amelia frowned. “I thought he told you not to worry about that. Why put pressure on yourself if you don’t have to, honey?”
“Hon, stay out of it,” Liam said. “If Lillie wants to clear the board, let her do it.” He met Lillie’s eyes. “This sauce is terrific, kitten!”
She thanked him, not only for the compliment, but for understanding that she needed to clear the board. Everyone who’d helped her had done so at great personal and financial cost. Settling up with them would add credence to her apologies, while making it easier for them to believe that drugs were firmly in her past. Oh, how good it would feel to step out from under the guilt and shame she’d been shouldering all these months!
“You guys have been terrific. There isn’t enough money in all the world to repay you for what you’ve done.” Tears burned behind her eyelids, so Lillie rushed to get the rest out. “You took me at my word, gave me another chance when I needed it most and welcomed me home with open arms.”
“Honey, we’re only too happy to do it.”
“You mom’s right,” Liam said.
“I know.” She got up, went to their side of the kitchen island and draped an arm around each of their shoulders. “It seems such a pathetic, paltry thing to say, but thank you.” Lillie kissed their cheeks, then returned to her seat. “I’m thinking that by spring,” she said, spearing a meatball, “I should have enough for a deposit and first month’s rent on a place of my own.”
“Oh, don’t be in such a hurry,” Amelia said. “We love having you here. And you’re a big help!”
“When all this construction ends and the grand reopening is behind you, the guest rooms will fill up. And won’t it be nice to have that extra bedroom for nights and weekends when Kassie and Kate want to sleep over?”