by Amy Vastine
She laughed, then told him that the surgeon explained that he’d had to crack only one bone to correct the problem.
“That’s gotta be a relief.”
“You sound tired,” she said.
He told her about Drew’s call for help, and hearing her laugh as he relayed the rest of the story energized him.
“And your truck will smell even riper after sitting all night with the windows up in this heat and humidity. Looks like you’ll have to take a cab to the airport.”
“Yup. And it’ll be worse when I get back. So it looks like there’s a rental car in my future, too. I’d tell my insurance agent about it in person, just to get a look at his face when I explain things…if I had a way to get to his office.”
“A rental car? Jase, that isn’t necessary.”
“’Course it is. There’s no telling how long it’ll take a detail shop to get rid of that smell.”
“What I mean is, why rent something when you can borrow mine? I won’t be able to drive for weeks, a month, maybe. Wish I’d known that before I bought it.”
It made perfect sense, and yet, Jase couldn’t see himself taking her up on the offer.
“You’ll be doing me a favor.”
He chuckled. “How do you figure that?”
“It isn’t good for a vehicle to sit idle for weeks on end. Dad says things get gummed up in the engine.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking it for a spin every couple of days.”
“Dad has a lead foot. And he rides the brakes. I’d rather have you watching over Mona.”
“Mona?”
Soft laughter filtered into his ear. “When you were a kid, didn’t you ever look at car grills and imagine the headlights as eyes, the split of the hood as the eyebrows, the bumper a mouth?”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“In the used car lot, while I wandered around inspecting vehicles, that one smiled at me. A tiny Mona Lisa smile.”
Leave it to Lillie to give an inanimate object a personality…and a name to fit it.
“Please tell me that isn’t the reason you bought…her.”
More laughter, and then, “She fit perfectly into my budget. She’s small, so gas won’t be an issue. Front-wheel drive means I can maneuver better in the snow. And…”
“And she smiled at you,” he finished. It was his turn to say, “You sound tired.”
“A little. Maybe.”
“Get some sleep, kiddo. I’ll call you from Florida, okay?”
“When do you get back?”
“Day after tomorrow.”
“Have the cab drop you off here so I can give you my car keys.”
“I thought your folks drove you to the hospital.”
He still didn’t feel right, using her car, and he said so.
“Look at it this way—I owe you far more than that paltry check I wrote you. I know you erased a symbolic slate, but still. Use the car. It’ll make it more like we’re even.”
Life would be easier if he said yes. Plus, he’d have the pickup and drop-off as legitimate excuses to see her.
“Okay, but only on one condition.”
Silence.
“This really wipes the slate clean, totally, once and for all.”
More silence, and then, “We’ll leave that discussion for another day.”
She did sound exhausted. And who wouldn’t be following a surgery like that? You bet we’ll take this up another day, he thought, and launched into the goodbye routine he’d started so long ago. Would she remember her part?
“G’night, Lill.”
“Sleep tight, Jase.”
“Happy dreams.”
“Catch you on the other side of the moon.”
Thirty seconds after she hung up, Jase was still staring at the handset.
In bed that night, he scrunched the pillow under his neck and flicked through the TV channels. “Three hundred and some channels, and there’s nothing on,” he groused, and hit the off button. Then, as shards of moonlight painted white streaks on the dark ceiling and drowsiness overtook him, Jase did something he hadn’t done in far too long.
I’m not usually a praying man, You know that. This thing with Lillie… I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. If it’s the right thing, well, I sure could use some guidance here…so if You’re listening, I’d appreciate a sign.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AMELIA HAD TURNED the turret into a bedroom to spare Lillie clomping up and down the stairs in her cast. She’d been using a walker for nearly a week when Jase stopped by.
“Looks pretty good,” he said, admiring her temporary bedroom. “What did your mom do with all the antiques that were in here?”
“Dad and Matt put some in the basement and some in the garage. Temporarily. Just to make room for this hideous hospital bed.”
Faint furrows creased her otherwise smooth brow, proof enough to Jase that she was in considerable pain.
“You don’t like it in here?”
“It’s cramped and noisy, and with all these windows, it’s too bright to sleep well, especially if the moon is out. And the guests…” She heaved a frustrated sigh. “They waltz in and out of here, interrupting when I’m trying to write.” She sighed again. “See? Told you I might get surly after the operation.”
“Those sound like legit complaints to me. You just had major surgery, don’t forget. But wait. Did you say writing?”
“I did.” She pointed at the green spiral notebook atop her guitar case. “Nothing earth-shattering. Just a few simple melodies to go with some lyrics I pulled together.”
“How ’bout singing a tune or two for me?”
“They’re not even close to being listen-ready yet.”
“Well, let me know when I can hear them, okay?”
Jase counted the tiles on the turret’s floor. “I can see how, even without an official door, the walls might feel like they’re closing in on you.”
“I don’t really mind the size. It’s the no-door thing that drives me batty.”
“I hear ya. And I’ll bet you’d sleep a whole lot better in your own bed. How much longer until you can maneuver the stairs?”
“I could do it now…if they’d let me.”
“Are they here?”
She looked surprised. “Well, no. When they found out you were coming over, they decided to run some errands.”
“Well?” He held out a hand, and that, at least, produced a smile.
He helped her up and slid an arm around her. “Lean on me,” he instructed. “We’ll just take it slow and easy, right here beside the bed, one small step at a time.”
“So how’d you get here today?” she asked, moving slowly forward.
“Rented a big ol’ boat. Mom calls it an old lady car.”
He laughed. She did not.
“I don’t know why you have to be so stubborn. You could be driving my car for free.”
“This is free, thanks to insurance.”
She waved the explanation away with her free hand, then licked her lips.
“Thirsty?”
“No, I’m good. What about you? Are you hungry?”
“Just had breakfast, but thanks.”
“At eleven o’clock!”
“Jet lag. Always messes with my feeding schedule.”
“Very funny. You know better than most people that Florida and Maryland are in the same time zone.”
“True, but I don’t sleep much when I’m doing the show. Same aftereffect as jet lag.”
“So how long will you need the old lady car?” They continued to shuffle around the room together.
“It’s gonna take the detailer another week. If I’m lucky.”
“Wow. That must have been some polluted barrel. Any idea what was in
it?”
“To tell you the truth, I’d rather not know.”
Jase decided to end the small talk. But first, he wanted to get her off her feet and back into bed.
Once he got her settled, Jase said, “Still no pain pills, huh?”
“Not so much as an aspirin.” Eyes narrowed, she said, “So you really didn’t believe me when I told you that before.”
Hopefully, he could avoid the question by pretending to search for a light quilt. And it worked. Sort of.
“Sorry I’m such a grump.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t be at my best either, if a surgeon cracked my thigh bone and put it back together with pins and screws.”
She grew quiet. And serious. Jase steadied himself for bad news of some sort.
“While we’re on the subject of pills,” she began, “and as long as I can blame the leg for my less-than-pleasant attitude—”
“Uh-oh…”
“Stop trying to entertain me for a minute, will you? You need to hear this, and I need to say it. I’m not the same person who was all wigged-out on drugs. If you can’t accept that, we’re doomed, even as friends. Because frankly…”
She looked at the ceiling, as if the rest of what she’d planned to say was written up there, like lines from a script.
“Frankly, I’ve had it with your lack of faith. How long have I been home now?”
Since Mother’s Day, he thought, but before he could say so, she continued with, “Months, Jase. Months. And I’m still clean. So deal with it!”
“Okay.”
“Now you have a choice to make.”
“A choice…”
“I’m sure it’s no surprise to hear that I love you. That I always have and always will. But I won’t live with your judgment hanging over my head like a guillotine. It’s high time you showed some confidence in me, time for you to take me at my word. Because honestly? That’s all I’ve got.”
“You must be exhausted,” he said, evading a response. “I should let you get some rest. Need anything before I hit the road?”
“Oh. So now you’re leaving? Just like that.”
“You’re tired.” And I’m tired of you labeling me the bad guy, just because I’m taking my time about—
“I’m not tired, but if you want to go,” she gestured toward the leg, “I’m certainly in no position to stop you.”
You could ask me to stay. You could suggest that we start this whole visit over again, on an up note this time…
He’d never understood the phrase “silence is deafening” before. Well, he understood it now.
Minutes passed before he said, “I’ll check in with you soon.” He started for the door, stopping long enough to add, “Forgot to mention, I have a three-week stint in Florida, starting tomorrow. Meeting with a couple of local manufacturers down there about adding my mom’s designs to their production lines. It’ll save us the freight charges.”
“Three weeks?”
Deke had often accused him of burying the lede, and he couldn’t deny it. He’d always been a “good news first” sort of guy. Would it have been smarter to mention the extended trip right up front? Yeah, but you know what they say about hindsight.
Lillie’s lips had formed a taut line as she reached for the paperback she’d been reading when he arrived.
“Safe travels,” she said, opening it to a bookmarked page. “And if you happen to think of it, give me a call.”
He took it to mean “Time’s up, pal. Hit the road.”
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
“You do the same.”
He quietly let himself out and wasted no time making his way to the rental. He slid behind the steering wheel and shook his head.
It hit him like a punch to the jaw: Lillie had come right out and said that she still loved him, and instead of admitting that he felt the same way, he’d stood, staring and openmouthed.
Too late to go back in there and make things right?
Who knew what right was anymore! Everything had changed since she got back. More and more, Jase felt like a passenger on a carnival ride, the one that spun people around so fast that they stuck to the wall, even as the bottom dropped out from under them. He’d been hanging on, barely, but only because he’d chosen not to get off.
Maybe it was time to do just that.
* * *
LILLIE RAN THROUGH the he said–she said, over and over, always coming to the same conclusion: Jase had saved the news about his long Florida trip until the last minute to underscore how he’d felt when Brant dropped the producer bombshell on him. It had been a petty, immature thing to do, and look where it left them: nearly a month without so much as a text message.
She couldn’t afford to stress out over it and chose, instead, to throw herself into physical therapy. The result? Her leg was healing faster than expected. She’d traded the walker for crutches, then the crutches for a cane. Soon, she’d be able to walk without aid. And since Jase had made it clear that he could get along without her, Lillie resolved to start fresh.
And she started with the phone call that she’d put off for far too long.
“Hey, Brant.”
“Lillie! It’s good to hear from you.”
“How’s Sally?”
“Doing well. Doing great, actually. She’s been home for a month. Her oncologist reduced chemo treatments to one, every other week. If her numbers continue to improve, she’ll be off it altogether, and they’ll remove the port.”
“So she’s close to remission, then?”
“Real close.”
“That’s wonderful news. I need to make time to see her, soon. I really miss that big smile of hers!”
“She misses you, too. In fact, she mentioned you at breakfast the other day.”
“Is her immune system strong enough to eat out?”
“Not just yet. But you’re more than welcome to come to the house. If you’re up to it, that is.”
Lillie explained that she hadn’t quite recovered enough to drive, but promised to stop by the minute her surgeon gave her the go-ahead.
“Happy as I am to hear that Sally’s doing well, I have an ulterior motive for calling.”
“Let me guess. You’re finally ready to meet Rusty.”
She’d turn twenty-eight on her next birthday. She missed singing. Missed interacting with audiences. And since there wasn’t anything—or anyone—holding her back, why not reach for the brass ring after all? If she missed it, she’d be no worse off than she was now. And at least then, she could say that she’d tried.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“Let me make a couple phone calls and get back to you. Will you be home tomorrow?”
“Yes, all day.”
“Just so happens he’s in town. If he has an hour or two in the afternoon, can we hold the initial meeting at your folks’ inn? His hotel is nearby, and that’d spare you having to hire a taxi.”
With just one couple in the Constellation Suite and still no word from Jase, there would never be a better time.
The next day, at two sharp, Brant parked a sleek silver van in front of the White Roof Inn. Lillie’s mouth went dry when he slid the door open and five men hopped down onto the horseshoe drive. Two grabbed instrument cases, one hoisted an amplifier and another carried a gooseneck microphone stand, and they all followed Brant onto the porch.
“What’s all this?” Liam asked, stepping outside.
“We have a two o’clock with Lillie. I’m Brant Perry,” he said, handing over a business card.
Her dad held open the screen door. “Ah, the fella with Nashville connections…”
The second man in line grinned. “Just one connection,” he said, extending a hand. “Rusty McCoy.” He, too, gave Liam a card.
Lillie, standing beside her father, trembled…and t
ried to hide it. This was it. The true test. The make it or break it moment. If she didn’t pass muster with Rusty…
“And you must be Lillie of the lovely voice,” he said, bowing slightly. He sandwiched her hand between his own. “Brant has been singing your praises for months, if you’ll pardon the pun. I’m looking forward to hearing it for myself.”
Brant dropped a hand onto Rusty’s shoulder. “Where can we set up, Ms. Rourke?”
“Follow me,” Lillie said, hoping her still-weak leg wouldn’t collapse under her as she led them into the turret.
It reminded her of that day, more than two months ago now, when she and Jase ran through half a dozen songs in preparation for what would have been the kids’ wedding. After all this time without a word from him, the memory shouldn’t hurt this much. But he’d made his choice, and just as she had on the night she left for New York, Lillie respected it…and forced herself to move on.
Rusty barked orders as he pointed at the equipment. “The amp is for the mic, not the guitars.” He found a socket for a bulky, reel-to-reel tape recorder. “It’s old-fashioned,” he said, “but it can’t be beat for portable sound quality.”
Brant frowned. “Sorry, Lillie. Let me make a few introductions. I guess you’ve figured out which one is Mr. McCoy…the guy with the rusty manners. Gene, here, will back you up on keyboard, Hank’s on the twelve-string. Why don’t y’all take a couple minutes to tune up.”
“Speaking of tunes,” Rusty said, facing Lillie, “do you know what you’re singing?”
She didn’t like the man. Not even a little bit. But if he could help pave the road to Nashville, she’d tolerate a little rudeness. She handed him a short stack of sheet music.
But he was far more interested in the green spiral notebook under the sheet music.
“You wrote all these?”
“I did.” During her first week home after the operation, she’d come to grips with the fact that Jase wasn’t going to call. She shouldn’t have been surprised. The look on his face as he backed out of the room had been identical to the one permanently imprinted in her memory. Those weeks she’d spent waiting for him to visit or call turned into months. Wasted time that would have been far better spent focusing on recovery rather than lost romance. She wouldn’t make that mistake again, and the decision resulted in several maudlin melodies that served no purpose than to provide a way to vent.