“Maybe,” he said after some hesitation.
“You were,” she told him. She paused over her next question, then decided to go for it. “Are you still upset about Dr. Irvington? The other Dr. Irvington.”
“I forgave her for marrying Stephen a long time ago, even the fact that she chose to do it as soon as she did,” James told her. “I forgave them both right around the time I stopped downing Jack Daniels and Wild Turkey like water and started looking at myself good and long in the mirror again.”
She frowned over that because she’d once had to do the same thing—analyze herself, her life, take stock, rebuild. “Did you think you wouldn’t run into them? It’s a small town.”
“I want to fix things. I just haven’t been able to figure out how. There’s so much there, so much bitterness and regret and mistakes to make up for. Just like with you. It’s hard to know where to start.”
Adrian swallowed as she turned into their neighborhood. “At least you’re willing to give it a shot.”
“She told me to leave you alone.”
Adrian found a small smile crawling across her lips. “I knew I always liked your mother.” He said nothing as they pulled into her driveway. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
“No.”
“No? You’re just going to sit here sulking?”
James sent her a baleful look as he unbuckled his seat belt and reached for the handle of the passenger door. “Today’s already been eventful enough as it is, for the both of us. And I’m still man enough to walk myself home, thanks.”
She breathed carefully as he struggled to stand. She rounded the hood of the car to grab his arm. “I’m the one who got you into this mess. The least I can do is walk you twenty feet to your door.”
When his head lifted and he looked at her, she froze. The anguish on his face was palpable. “You were sick.”
Her mouth opened, closed. “I was?”
“The pregnancy,” he said. “It made you sick. Really sick.”
Adrian blinked. Oh, crap. What else had his mother told him? “A lot of women get sick when they’re pregnant, James.”
“Not enough to wind up dehydrated in the hospital.”
Reading the defeat in his eyes, she closed hers briefly, then straightened her shoulders. She made herself put her hand on his and look at him directly as she said, “There are a lot of things that I regret or wish I’d done differently. But through it all, the one constant has been my little boy. There’s no regret there. Kyle might come from you and whatever it was we did or didn’t have back in the day. But not one moment of his entire life have I ever regretted. And neither should you.”
“Adrian...” He lowered his head until his forehead nearly rested against hers. His eyes were still pained, but they were fierce. “I’ve never regretted you. Ever. I just regret how I handled things.”
“It’s done,” she told him. Hadn’t she woken up telling herself the same thing for years? “Move on.”
He searched her gaze. “I tried, when I left before. It didn’t work out too well for me.”
“Maybe you did it the wrong way.”
“Why do you think I’m back? Why do you think I’m standing here in front you?”
“If you’ve got problems, James, I’m not the answer,” she said.
A light entered his eyes, an old flicker of humor. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he straightened. “Over the years, I’ve had a good many problems. For instance, not being able to close my eyes without seeing your face.”
“Stop it,” she said in warning.
“You were never a problem,” he told her. “And it’s taken me eight years to understand that maybe you’ve always been the answer. I just chose not to see before. But I’m seeing now. Despite everything that’s going on, you can be damn sure I’m seeing and I’ll figure it out.”
As he turned and hobbled off toward his house, she crossed her arms over her chest. “James,” she called. When he didn’t stop, she huffed in indignation.
She didn’t want to be his answer. Because if he did come to the conclusion that she was what he needed in life, that meant he wasn’t done. She feared he never would be. Not with her.
CHAPTER NINE
JAMES OPENED THE DOOR and pursed his lips when he found the woman on his doorstep. “Briar,” he said, opening the screen to let her into the house. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought pie,” Briar said, lifting the round, covered platter in her hands as she crossed the threshold under his urging. “I heard about your little accident and...well, I figured you could use something to brighten your day.”
James found himself smiling as she handed over the warm foil-wrapped dessert. “That’s very kind of you.” He glanced around the living room, which was still in a state of chaos with moving boxes and their contents spread over the furniture and floor. “Sorry for the mess.”
Briar waved a hand, though her honey-brown eyes did comb the room. “Moving’s a never-ending ordeal. Why don’t I take that?” Grabbing the pie, she began peeling off the foil. “Would you like a slice? It’s cherry, one of my best.”
James had heard rumors about Briar’s cooking and baking. In fact, he had eaten many of her mother’s pies at church functions when his father joined the ministry and his mother became actively involved in Sunday afternoon picnics for the congregation. The banquet table was a great place to hang out when trying to avoid conversing with church folk. “I can’t say no to that,” James said, as the scent of the cherry pie washed over him.
Briar bustled around his kitchen as James settled into one of the dining room chairs. She brought him a plate with a napkin and fork as well as a glass of iced tea. “Would you mind me asking you something?”
“You brought me pie, Briar,” James pointed out. He took another bite and stopped to say, “Mmm, that’s good.” He cleared his throat when a small smile played at her lips. “You can ask me whatever you want.”
“Okay, good,” she said. “Why did you come back, exactly?”
James stopped, mouth full. She was staring at him owlishly and he saw a flicker of speculation in her eyes amidst the kindness. Swallowing, he cleared his throat and wiped his mouth. “So that’s what this is about.”
Briar shrugged. “What kind of friend would I be if it wasn’t?” Her expression cleared. “I’ve always liked you, James. Our families go back a ways. That means something to me.”
He nodded. “Me, too, and I’m sorry about your mom. She was always nice to me. She was there for my mom, too, in the way I probably should’ve been.”
“Thank you,” she said, then her mouth tipped into a frown. “But despite the history between our two families, you’ve been gone a long time. Now Adrian’s practically a sister to me. Kyle’s dear to all of us, too. I’d be doing them an injustice if I didn’t grill you a little. Especially since she’s done the same for me in the past.”
James cleared his throat. “Understood.” Pushing his plate away, he put down the fork and wiped his hands on the napkin. “I’ll be honest. I didn’t come back for her. Not initially.”
She studied him a moment, then nodded. “I believe you.”
Her ready trust in him was a bit off-putting. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had placed their trust in him so quickly. It made him look at Briar in an even more affectionate light. “I came back to Fairhope,” he said carefully, “because I’m sick of running away from my problems. I’m tired of being haunted by what I left behind. I’m trying to make amends for what happened in the past and with the people I hurt.”
“And when you’ve done that...” Briar lifted a questioning shoulder. “When you feel like you’ve achieved these goals, will you pick up and leave again?”
“No,” James said, determined as he picked up his tea glass. “
I want everyone I left behind to know that I’m here for them—that they can depend on me, always.”
“Do you love her?” Briar grinned when he took a sip of the tea and nearly choked at the question. Trying to muffle a laugh behind her hand, she used the other to clap him on the back as he coughed. “I’m sorry. So sorry, but I couldn’t resist.”
He made a hoarse noise in the back of his throat and took another swallow. “Hazed by interrogation. Nicely done.”
Briar rubbed his shoulder before picking up his dish and taking it back into the kitchen. “If it makes you feel any better, you passed the test.”
James looked at her hopefully. “Oh, yeah?”
Briar nodded as she covered the pie in foil again. “You have my permission to bug Adrian. Not that you needed it. Just...be careful. There’s so much there—so much pain and grief. She’s been through a great deal.”
Licking his lips, James rose and limped to the counter to lean on it as Briar began rinsing the dishes, right at home. “Briar...” When her eyes rose to his, he asked quietly, “Did Kennard ever hurt Kyle, too?”
The warning light of alarm entered her eyes before she dropped them to the sink. “Why do you think she finally found the strength to leave him?” she asked, lowering her voice so that over the rush of water it was nearly inaudible. “He hurt Kyle and she got the both of them as far away from him as she could. Before that, it had only been her. But, from what I understand, one night I guess he got too drunk or too buzzed off whatever he was into at the time and he pushed Kyle down the stairs.”
James’s hands hardened in their grip on the counter. “Why did she marry him?”
“Because she was scared,” Briar said as she shut off the water and dried the glass with a tattered washcloth. “Because she wanted to get away from her parents. Edith’s bitterness. Van’s disappointment. Radley was a kind bystander and Adrian latched onto that because, at the time, it seemed like the only positive course in her life. You can’t blame her for that. We’ve all done stupid things because anger or fear got the better of us.”
“I don’t blame her,” James explained. “And you do know that you’re preaching to the choir over here?”
She lifted a shoulder as if to say “I know.” Then she looked around the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you unpack anything?”
James grinned. “If I keep you around much longer, your husband’s gonna come looking for vengeance. He didn’t seem too keen on me the other night.”
Briar waved a hand and smiled. “Cole’s harmless. He’s overprotective when it comes to me, Harmony or any of the girls. Adrian in particular.”
“Does this overprotectiveness have anything to do with the fact that he’s a cop?”
“He was a cop,” she corrected. “A narcotics detective. How’d you know?”
James pursed his lips before sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ve had my fair share of brushes with the police. I know a cop when I see one.”
“And you run as fast as you can in the other direction?” she asked, raising a coy brow.
“Once upon a time,” he said with a nod.
“You can keep your running shoes in the closet. My husband is retired. And he’s got no reason to come running after you.” Turning, she pinned him with a straightforward stare that almost knocked him back a step. “Right?”
He grinned and tipped his head in agreement. “Right.”
“Good.” She wavered for a moment, then raised herself on her tiptoes and brushed a platonic kiss over his bearded cheek. “It’s wonderful to have you back.”
His grin turned rueful. “Thank you.”
Leaning back, she pointed at him with a stern finger. “Don’t do anything stupid or it’ll be me coming after you. Not to mention Liv armed with her granddaddy’s shotgun.”
“Consider me warned,” James told her, trailing her to the front door. He had left it open with the screen in place. As they approached, James saw a man climbing the steps to his front porch. Briar opened the screen, and James’s eyes adjusted to the light beaming in from the outdoors, his steps halted as the man’s face took shape and Briar called out a cheerful greeting.
“Dr. Irvington!” she said, grasping the hand of James’s stepfather. “How are you?”
“I’m doing all right, Briar,” Dr. Stephen Irvington replied, a shade of a smile touching the perpetually serious line of his mouth. “How about you?”
“Great.” Briar looked around for James’s reaction. Seeing the frown on his face, she quickly waved toward the car in the drive. “I was just on my way out. Please tell Mavis I said hello.”
“I’ll certainly do that,” Dr. Irvington said, stepping aside so that she could pass down the steps into the sunshine.
“I hope we see you soon down at the inn, James,” Briar called back to him.
James jerked his chin toward her in answer, unable to summon a passing remark. Still, he watched her drive off in the silence that fell quickly between him and Stephen. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish he were leaving with her.
Ghosts, James reminded himself. Gotta face those ghosts. Meeting Stephen’s studious gaze, he jerked his head toward the door. “I guess you better come in, too.”
“You don’t have to invite me in, son,” Stephen told him. He was a tall, reedy man with glasses, and he was always dressed to the nines. When Mavis first started dating him years ago, James had resentfully referred to him as The Suit. Today he wasn’t wearing a suit but what passed for casual attire for a man of his stature—a sweater vest over a pressed oxford shirt and khakis. His loafers were shiny, unscuffed, as if they’d never been worn. “We both know me coming in wouldn’t make you any more comfortable than you are now.”
James fought a scowl. It was automatic and unmerited. Stephen was right and his honesty was for James’s benefit, not his own. Having Stephen Irvington inside his house, scanning the interior and the current mess it was in, would make James itch far more than Briar’s questions had. Probably because it was in Stephen’s nature to analyze human behavior. He was a clinical psychologist—one of the best in his field. Plus, he would no doubt report everything he saw back to James’s mother.
James let the screen door close. Leaning against the jamb, he crossed his arms—a gesture Stephen would probably peg as defensive. But some habits were hard to curb. “Did my mom send you?”
“She doesn’t know I’m here,” Stephen admitted. If he felt any guilt over the admission, it didn’t show on his placid exterior. The man had always been calm. James had bitterly resented him for that. No matter what harsh words he’d spewed in Stephen’s face or how loud he raised his voice against him, James had never been able to penetrate that calm facade. James had done his best to hurt Stephen and his mother both when he’d found out they would be marrying.
Those harsh words seemed to echo between them now. James rolled his shoulders back, trying to ease the strain. “Won’t she be upset?” he asked.
“She will be,” Stephen asserted, “particularly when she finds out why I’m here.”
“Why are you here?” James asked.
Stephen seemed to weigh his words for a moment, then the steady line of his shoulders fell. For a split second, he seemed to fall in on himself before taking a breath and gathering whatever emotions he felt, looking James in the eye as he said, “Your mother has cancer.”
The statement punctured James through the middle like the tip of a broadsword. He stood against the house, grateful to have something to lean on. “What did you say?” he asked.
“Stage four,” Stephen said grievously. “She didn’t want to tell you at the hospital. In fact, when I spoke to her later that evening, she left me under the impression that she had no intention of telling you at all. But if you’re sticking around, and it seems that you are, I figured you should
hear it from me, if not her. Finding this sort of thing out through the grapevine is difficult. And...maybe the news will make you rethink things as far as your mother is concerned.”
“Like what?” James croaked. His heart was hammering away at his chest like a sledgehammer on an anvil. The pain reverberated through his rib cage.
“She’ll be going through aggressive chemo soon,” Stephen told him. “She’s going to weaken, and as hopeful as we are, there’s no guarantee what treatment will do at this stage. If you have no plans of being a part of her life, that’s your decision. But if you intend to see or speak to her again, I’ll ask you to do so with the utmost respect and gentility. The last thing she needs in her life right now is strife.”
James winced. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he rubbed the back of his fingers over his lips. “Ah...” Unable to think of anything to say, he drilled his gaze into the floorboards of the porch.
Stephen hesitated for a moment. Then he exhaled and moved toward James, lifting a hand to his shoulder. When James raised his eyes to his stepfather’s face, he saw emotion. But it wasn’t the anger or hurt he’d craved to see on the man’s face years ago. It was kindness. And sympathy. The hand on his shoulder squeezed. “She may need you, through this. But being there for her...that’s something you’ll have to decide for yourself.”
James swallowed hard, tasting bile and fear. “I’m not sure she’d want me.”
Stephen gave him something of a smile. “She might surprise you. She loves you. Despite everything, she loves you, James. Remember that, whatever it is you decide.”
James nodded. Stephen gave his shoulder one last pat before backing away. James didn’t stop him from going down the steps and walking back to the Mercedes parked on the street. He stood stock-still, feeling the walls of his life shake for the second time since his return to Fairhope.
* * *
ADRIAN HAD JUST finished helping an elderly lady load a large wreath into the backseat of her Cadillac and was waving her off from the parking lot at Flora when, from the corner of her eye, she saw someone approaching. Turning her head, she spotted James coming down the sidewalk.
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