by Amy Vastine
Liam strode into the kitchen and, standing between them, pulled his wife and daughter into a hug.
“What’re my girls talking about?”
“Supper. Dishes…” Amelia laughed. “And Lillie’s man hands.”
“Man hands!” Liam inspected her palms, too. “Well now, don’t know as I’d call ’em man hands, but my, my, my, you sure couldn’t get a job modeling rings, now could you!”
Lillie kissed his cheek. “Good thing modeling has never been on my bucket list, then.”
He patted his ample belly. “When do we eat? I’m starved.”
“Scrub up, Mr. Rourke, and set the table. Soup’s on!”
They ate in companionable silence for a minute or two before Liam said, “What do you hear from Jase these days?”
Were all these Jase-related questions the result of a conspiracy? “Not much.” What would he say if she told him how many hours it had been since Jase kissed her, right out back, in the gazebo? “Why do you ask, Dad?”
“Oh, no reason.”
“Your dad’s probably just wondering if Jase will be here on Saturday.”
They exchanged a look that told Lillie there was more to the story.
“I left him a message a little while ago, letting him know what time things start, but he hasn’t called back.”
“He will,” Amelia said.
“No doubt in my mind,” Liam agreed.
“How can you be so sure?” Lillie asked.
Liam wiggled his eyebrows. “Let’s just say we know what we know.”
If she hadn’t seen them checking on their tickets to the theater the other night, Lillie would have sworn they’d been present when she and Jase went to the gazebo. Had they come home early? No…she would have seen their car in the drive when she walked Jase to the door.
Unless they’d parked out back…
One look at her mother’s twinkling eyes told her that was exactly what had happened. The heat of a blush made its way from her shoulders to her cheeks, and the only way to hide it was to make her way to the sink.
“I need to get to the hotel,” she said. “Your father and I will clean up.” Amelia looked at her husband. “Won’t we, Liam?”
He looked less than enthused when he sighed and agreed.
Just a few more minutes, Lillie thought, and she’d be out the door, safe from any questions or conversation about that night with Jase.
“That boy is still sweet on you,” her dad said. “If you ask me, he’d be lost without you.”
“Oh, I know.” Amelia sighed. “Every time he stopped by to see how you were doing, it was written all over his face.”
“Yup. Even when he brought a young lady with him.”
“Just how many women did he parade past you, anyway?”
“Three, counting Whitney.”
Her mother clucked her tongue. “So sad for those young ladies, because not one of them was Jase’s type.”
What was Jase’s type? A year or so ago, Lillie would have said “Me!” But as she’d told Molly, that was then, and this is now.
Jase will call, no doubt about it, they’d said. Lillie got in her car and caught herself smiling. Smiling wide.
“Straighten up, girl,” she muttered. So what if he’d kissed her. It didn’t mean he felt anything beyond friendship for her. Jase probably hadn’t given it a moment’s thought, since.
And why would he? She’d brought nothing but misery to his life during their final year together. Jase hadn’t come right out and said that he didn’t trust her, but then, it hadn’t been necessary.
Eventually, she’d prove to everyone that her work at Rising Sun had made her trustworthy again. So the real question was, could she trust Jase not to hurt her the way he had on the night she returned his ring.
Lillie would fight for him, if she believed there was anything to fight for. But what if he still saw her as a weak, sniveling, drug-addicted parasite?
That little speech on the way to the ice cream stand? At first, she’d felt empowered. Now, Lillie felt embarrassed by every word. She’d let her feelings push her into a corner, where anger and disappointment forced her to defend herself.
She’d learned a few things about herself in rehab, among them that her battle for sobriety had made her strong. Stronger than she’d ever been. That alone was reason enough to feel proud of herself, too proud to allow a repeat of that scene!
Let it go, she told herself. Let go and move on.
The glimmer of hope that had burned in her throughout her time at Rising Sun, that continued to flicker during the months of scrimping and saving while working for Pete, had given her false hope. Running into Jase at the jewelry store had fanned the coals, and every meeting since only added fuel to the fire. What rational person would allow a couple of kisses—however wonderful they had been—to lead her to believe that after all they’d been through, a reunion was possible?
She’d been silly. Immature.
But that was then, and this is now.
It wouldn’t happen again.
Not if she had anything to say about it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“ARE YOU GOING to the White Roof Inn reopening?” Colette asked.
Jase had batted the question around for days and still hadn’t made a decision. For every good reason to go, he’d come up with two to stay away.
“I doubt it.” He glanced at the small envelope in her hand. “Why? Are you?”
“I’m giving it some serious thought.” She placed the invitation on the table beside her chair. “I always liked Liam and Amelia. It isn’t their fault that Lillie turned out the way she did.”
“C’mon, Mom. That’s not fair. She paid a price for her actions. A big one.”
Colette sniffed. “That remains to be seen.”
“If you feel that way, why are you going? Lillie arranged the whole shindig, practically single-handed, so she’ll be there.”
“How would you know the amount of work she put into the party?”
He didn’t like that suspicious glint in her eyes. “I get around, and I hear things.”
“Get around, as in around Lillie?”
Sometimes, her ability to make him feel like a misbehaving brat amazed him. He had two choices: admit that he’d seen a lot of Lillie since she got back to Baltimore, or find a way to sidestep her question.
“So if you go to the reopening, what will you wear?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea.”
“Your invitation doesn’t say? I only ask because I didn’t get one.” She didn’t need to know that his invite had come by way of a voice message. A message he’d listened to at least ten times.
Colette patted the envelope. “I suppose it’s one of those gatherings where guests are expected to use their own good sense. But it does make one wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
“Why Lillie the Great Organizer didn’t think to specify proper attire. Perhaps it means—”
“She’s working two jobs, three if you count all the things she does around the inn. Plus she volunteers at the Hopkins children’s ward a couple times a month.”
A daunting thought crossed his mind: if she attended without him, chances were better than good that she’d put Lillie to some sort of sobriety test.
“Here’s an idea,” he countered. “Let’s not go. I’ll find something else for us to do. Maybe Drew and Dora can join us.”
“Something else. Such as?”
“Such as one of those lighthouse tours up the Chesapeake. They sound interesting.”
“Oh, please. Something like that would take days. There must be fifty lighthouses in the bay. We’d have to stay overnight to fit them all in.”
“So? Let’s do it. The way Drew and Dora love to travel, I’ll bet they’d have fun.”
And guide him to a decision—
“She forgot something else.”
Jase stifled a groan of frustration. He didn’t like being in this position, wanting to defend Lillie but not wanting to offend his mother. It reminded him that he needed to find a way to disconnect from her, gradually.
“There’s nothing here about how a person should RSVP.”
“Because it’s an open house kinda thing, come if you can, stay as long as you like.”
She flicked the envelope’s flap. “I have to admit, I am curious to see the place again. I haven’t been there since your engagement party.”
The word felt like a slap. That party had been her idea, and he still felt that he owed Amelia an apology for all the work and expense that went into it.
Jase finally diverted the subject to business. She showed him drawings of her newest design and he feigned more interest than warranted to get Colette off the subjects of Lillie and the opening. He hoped she wouldn’t revisit her crazy, off-the-cuff deal with Bill Reeves, still a sore subject in his mind. It hadn’t been easy, smoothing things over with Carl Daniels. One of these days, when he felt more confident that she’d fully recovered from the TIA, he’d get into that with her.
She walked him to the door. It wasn’t like her to do that, and it made him automatically uneasy. He steadied himself in preparation for another shocker.
“Pick me up a little past noon. We don’t want to be the first ones there, but it would be rude to get there much later.”
“We? I didn’t realize we’d made a decision.”
“You might be old enough to put CEO on your business cards, but I’m still your mother. Wear your Oxford shirt. It brings out the blue of your eyes. And if you stop looking so stunned, I won’t make you wear a tie.”
Jase leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll give you five bucks, right now, if you can name one time when you made me do anything.”
She held out one hand, palm up. “I made you admit you were in over your head with Lillie.”
Unfortunately, he couldn’t deny it. The morning after Lillie’s last OD, he’d stopped by his mom’s, shaken and angry.
She had him dead to rights, and knew it. Colette wiggled her fingers, and grinning, he peeled a five from his wallet. “You didn’t make me break it off.”
“I made you see that you should,” she said, snapping it from his fingers. “Same thing.” Winking, she added, “See you at noon. Blue shirt. No tie.”
One good thing came of this, Jase thought, firing up the truck. The ‘go—don’t go’ question had been answered.
The feeling that rose up inside him reminded Jase how he’d felt as a boy, going to bed extra early on Christmas Eve to help time pass more quickly until the morning.
Tonight might just be a good night to turn in early.
* * *
JUST AS HE’D EXPECTED, Jase spent the night tossing and turning. During the few hours when he managed to nod off, his mind churned with dreams.
Dreams of Lillie, broken and bandaged and fighting for her life after the bus flattened her car. Lillie—days after the first surgery—easing battered fingers through his hair as he slept in the chair beside her hospital bed. Lillie, opening one swollen eye to look into his. Lillie, trying to coax her bruised mouth into a smile.
He’d chugged a mug of coffee and ate a slice of dry toast, hoping to shake the cobwebs from his brain. An exercise in futility, he realized, when his mom plucked a tiny scrap of tissue from his chin.
“Nicked yourself shaving, did you?” she said, examining the already-healed scrape. “Your dad used to do that. More mornings than not, I had to remove little white patches before he left for work.”
Now, as they stood in the White Roof Inn’s turret, she admired Amelia’s paintings. Jase was more interested in the gazebo.
“Is it my imagination, or is Lillie favoring her right leg?”
It took a second or two to shake free of the memories. Jase followed his mother’s gaze to the foyer, where Lillie had linked arms with a guest, then guided her into the parlor. Yes, she was limping. Knowing her, she’d put every bit of energy and muscle into making this event the best it could be, and overtaxed herself. Despite it all, though, she looked wide-awake and cheery in a gauzy black-and-white polka-dot dress. And with her hair pulled back from her face by a matching ribbon, she looked like a teenager.
“Stop staring,” Colette said, gently smacking his forearm. “People will notice.”
Jase aimed his gaze at the gazebo again.
“How long since her accident?”
He did the math in his head. “Almost three years, give or take.”
“What do her doctors say about that leg?”
“Never asked her about it.” Because he’d been too busy looking for signs that she might backslide.
Now, Lillie laughed as she pointed toward the dining room, where the caterers had laid out enough food to feed a horde.
“It’s a good thing she has a pretty face. People are less likely to stare. The way you are.”
He didn’t think anyone else had noticed, but just in case, he looked toward the terrace, where hundreds of rose blossoms of every color bobbed in the warm breeze. He knew Amelia had a knack for painting flowers, not growing them. This was Lillie’s work.
He thought of the goldfish he’d won for her at a carnival. It grew to ten times its original size before a guest’s kid dropped a ginger snap into the fishbowl. And the fledgling that, after leaving its nest a bit too soon, caught a lucky break when Lillie picked it up. After weeks of her loving care, it flew south with its peers. She’d found homes for abandoned puppies, and if not for allergies to pet dander, she would likely have been dubbed Fells Point’s crazy cat lady for taking in every kitten discarded at the docks. She even took care of Jase, who had been prone to bronchitis until Lillie came into his life, insisting on vaporizers and humidifiers, chest wraps and her recipe for robust chicken soup.
Now, huge, long-lashed brown eyes locked with his, sending his heart into overdrive. Jase questioned his sanity, because what man in his right mind would give a moment’s thought to distancing himself from a woman like that?
“Oh, no,” Colette said, elbowing him. “Now see what your gawking has done? She’s coming over here.”
“She’s the hostess, Mom. Did you really think you could avoid talking to her?”
“Mrs. Yeager,” she said, grasping Colette’s hand. “What a relief to see you looking so hale and hearty.”
His mom’s back stiffened. “Thank you. You look well, too.”
Jase held his breath, hoping his mother wouldn’t bring addiction into the conversation or, God forbid, the time she’d caught Lillie digging around in her purse.
“Very nice affair,” Colette continued. “Your hard work shows.”
“Why, thank you.”
Lillie’s posture told him that she remembered how withholding his mom could be with compliments.
Lillie surprised them both by linking arms with Colette. “Have you found the food table yet? We have something for every taste,” she said, laughing, “from vegan to the most devout carnivore.”
She didn’t lead her to the table, though. Instead, Lillie guided his mother onto the terrace. Jase followed a comfortable distance away, wondering what, exactly, Lillie had up her sleeve. It didn’t take long to find out.
“Mrs. Yeager, I’ve been meaning to apologize. For so many things. For taking advantage of your kindness. For trying to steal from you. For destroying our friendship. I miss that more than you’ll ever know.”
His mother stood gaping as Lillie’s eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t deserve your fo
rgiveness, but I’m asking for it, anyway.”
A long time passed before his mother said, “Don’t make a scene, Lillie. What’s done is done. I harbor no ill will toward you.”
She surprised him again by drawing Colette into a loose hug.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.”
His mother’s eyes connected with his as Lillie released her. He moved closer.
“What’re you two chatting about?”
Colette took a careful step back as a wavering smile crossed her face. “Lillie was just thanking us for coming.” The smile softened. “Now then, where can I find your parents, so I can say hello?”
Lillie pointed to where they stood, smiling and nodding in response to a news anchor’s questions.
“Mercy me. I had no idea the media would be here.” Fluffing chin-length white waves, she giggled. “I might have worn something fancier if I thought I’d be on camera.”
“No worries, Mom,” Jase said. “The reporters aren’t here to interview the guests.”
“That may not have been in the initial plan, but when they find out the creator of Colette’s Crafts and her TV star son are present, they’ll polish up their lenses!”
Lillie sent him an almost sympathetic look. “Actually, your mom makes a good point. It’ll be good for business when people find out the likes of Colette and Jase Yeager are among the inn’s admirers.” She patted his mother’s forearm. “Stay right here, and I’ll bring them over.”
She turned to leave, but Colette grabbed her hand. “I’m glad we had this chance to talk. I’ve…I’ve missed you, too.”
Lillie’s grateful smile could have lit a dark room.
“Thank you, Mrs. Yea—”
“Colette.”
“Thank you, Colette.” And with that, Lillie made her way to the other side of the room.
He was proud of his mother. Soon, he’d find a way to let her know just how proud. For now, he simply draped an arm across her shoulders.
“Good grief, Mom, have you no shame?”
She answered with an expansive shrug. “As Lillie so astutely pointed out, the connection is good for business. Ours and theirs.” Elbowing him again, Colette added, “Bet you’re wishing you had taken my advice.”