“This can too.”
She chewed her lower lip, her tell that she was nervous but hopeful. He bent his head and let his lips graze her cheek, right where the hint of a rosy flush crept up from her neck.
“People are watching.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.” Leaning her head away from his as the song crested toward its end, she added, “Can we get through the wedding? I don’t want to start something and have it hovering over us. The pressure feels like too much.”
She made him ache in all the ways a husband should—and in plenty of ways he shouldn’t. But he nodded, agreeing. This party was only a precursor to the next several weeks. He’d seen Lou’s calendar, tacked on the wall in her makeshift office, and he knew despite Cora Anne’s newfound ability to relax, his daughter still lived by a planner.
He placed his cheek against hers again. “After the wedding, I want to take you on a real date. Just us and the sunset.”
Her skin heated against his, and she nodded. The song ended, and he let her step away from the circle of his arms. But she kept his hand. “Charlotte’s toast was gracious, don’t you think?”
He glanced over her shoulder. Grace stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, swirling the contents of her drink. “I think she left someone out.”
Lou followed his eyes. “I can’t fix their issues.”
“Didn’t ask you to.”
She dropped their linked hands. “Since when are you so concerned with Grace’s well-being?”
He hadn’t forgotten her jealousy, but he thought it had gone dormant. “Aren’t we all friends, concerned for one another?”
Lou folded her arms. “Still, it was kind of Charlotte to remember my mother.”
“And it would have been kind for her to remember Tennessee’s mother.”
She whirled back toward the bar. He stepped close behind, snagged her elbow. “Why are you mad?”
Pulling free, Lou rolled her shoulders. “I’m not mad.” He waited. She sighed. “Grace is always the one everyone wants. She’s kind and generous and doesn’t give in to despair …” Her eyes finished the sentence for him. Like me. “Sometimes it feels like she took my place in this world.” She waved her hand around the garden, but he didn’t think she meant here.
Or with Patrick, either.
“Grace and your mother needed each other, Lou.”
A muscle jumped in her jaw, as if she were fighting to hold back words that might ought to have been said years ago. When Annie could have heard them. “I needed help too.”
He understood the implication. Over and over, he had failed her. Why couldn’t he get this right? What did she really want?
“But right now, I need a water. With ice, that’s all.” She found his gaze, held it. “I think I’m a little overheated.”
He nodded. “I’ll get it.”
When he brushed past her, she pressed her hand to his shoulder, leaned against him for a moment. A brush of bodies and regret. “David … there are many things we need to say.”
“That bench we sat on?” He turned his head, searching the darker edges of the garden, her lips a breath from his. “I’ll meet you there.”
Chapter 48
“Louisa.” Charlotte’s tone halted Lou’s stride into the shadows.
She turned. “Yes?”
“I believe the evening has been lovely. Would you agree?”
Lou didn’t think for a moment Charlotte needed her praise, but she nodded anyway. “Of course. Delightful.”
“What of Grace? Does she think so as well?” Charlotte adjusted a diamond bracelet on her narrow wrist. Already disinterested, Lou supposed.
Maybe she could fix something—or at least give it a wrench—after all. “I think Grace would have appreciated not being overlooked. Tennessee is her son.”
Charlotte’s hands dropped to her sides. “Grace allowed Patrick to disdain his upbringing. I am certain she does not mind being excluded from it now.”
“But she might mind exclusion from her only family.” Lou wished she’d kept walking. This conversation was headed nowhere—except to remind her she had no reason to be jealous herself. David was right. Grace had needed her mother. And Lou couldn’t fault her for that.
“Do not cast stones, Louisa. I saw you dancing with your ex-husband.” Now her features pinched, smug as a cat with cream. “I wondered, why is it you are no longer together? The breach doesn’t appear to come from him.”
A deep breath of the garden’s scent—azaleas, gardenias, camellias in full ruffled bloom—reminded Lou of her mother. She drew herself up to her full height, though even in heels she was no match for Charlotte’s regal stance. “My marriage is my business, and I’ll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself.”
“Your mother was a great woman, Louisa. But stubbornness was her downfall.”
Lou twisted away.
Charlotte’s words carried after her. “Don’t let it be yours.”
She wouldn’t give Charlotte the satisfaction of seeing her cry but the woman followed anyway, greeting those along the path Lou wove through the crowd.
Where was David? How long could it take to get water? She headed toward the house. He must have gone inside for some reason. She snipped up the back steps, heels sharp on the bricks, and dragged open the heavy back door.
Stubbornness, her downfall. Charlotte was one to talk—
Inside stood David, his arms around Grace.
~~~
Pushing Grace aside—gently—David streaked down the steps after Lou. She moved quickly for a woman who had been complaining about hurting feet earlier. When she ducked into the pool house, he followed.
The bathroom door closed. “Lou?” He rapped on it.
“It’s fine, David. Go back to the party. To Grace.”
He exhaled through clenched teeth. He hadn’t been with Grace. The bar was out of ice so he’d gone to the kitchen.
Chloe had been there, wiping counters. “Mr. David, you’re going to be in trouble. Get out of here.”
“Ice water first, please?” He held up the glasses and she obliged.
“I saw you dancing with Ms. Louisa.”
“Spying on the party out the window.”
“Best way to see everything everyone else misses.” She topped the waters with sprigs of fresh mint. He wondered what else Chloe saw out the windows of this big house. As he headed out, the back door opened, nearly knocking the water from his hands.
“David. I’m sorry.” Grace stood there. This time her frantic blinking hadn’t kept the tears from streaking her face.
“You all right?” Ridiculous question, he knew.
She shook her head, that fragile laugh again. “Clearly not. I mean, it’s hard enough remembering Charlotte certainly didn’t celebrate her son’s engagement like this. But then she can’t even mention my existence in front of her friends—oh, no. It’s Lou and Pat who were such good friends …” She flapped her hands as if she could fan away her tears. “Meanwhile he may be gone, but I’m still his wife.” She spat the words and David knew what was coming next. He’d seen enough women lose it in his day.
Her shoulders heaved. “You probably all knew the truth—that we got pregnant and had to get married. Everyone thinks he chose me out of love, but the longer he’s gone and the more I have to be here, I think maybe he chose me out of desperation to escape.” Her voice pitched. “How better to rid himself of this life than to marry his pathetic, pregnant girlfriend who’d already been abandoned by her own family?”
Her dam broke and David set the glasses on the side table—with a fleeting thought that Charlotte would have a coronary over the water rings—so he could wrap his arms around Grace’s quaking shoulders. He had no words to give right now. Telling her he’d had no idea of the circumstances behind her and Patrick seemed fruitless. Instead he rubbed her back and shushed, the way he often had when Lou fell apart and actually allowed herself comfort.
Lou. He’d looked
up to find her, thinking he could signal for help.
Of course she’d gotten the wrong impression. Though how could she, after their dance? This time he banged on the bathroom door.
She yanked it open. “What is your problem?”
“You, most of the time.” She started to close the door again, but he stuck his foot inside and braced the door with his shoulder. “We need to talk.”
“I thought that was the plan, but you changed your mind.”
“Lou, she was upset.”
Her shoulders slumped. “I know. I saw.”
“Then why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad …” She sniffled, and rubbed her eyes, leaving behind a black smear. Lou took a while to work up tears, which meant she’d been crying before she saw him with Grace.
The realization hit David like a line drive. He’d always put everyone else’s needs first—except hers.
Chapter 49
Grace accepted abandonment. But still, when David let her go so he could streak across the garden after Lou, she climbed the stairs on trembling legs. Very much aware she was nearly as alone now as she had been on that rainy day in March her father left.
She had been fifteen years old. He’d packed a bag before dawn and left without saying goodbye. The clicking shut of the front door had woken her from an already fitful sleep, and she’d crept downstairs just as his taillights pulled away from the drive. She’d wondered where he was going so early.
The note had been left on the kitchen table.
I’m sorry but I cannot do this anymore. Grace, you take care of your mama, now.
She didn’t realize what he really meant until days later when he still hadn’t come home, and she had to call Patsy to help her because Mama hadn’t gotten out of bed in three days.
At the moment, Grace wanted to climb into bed for a few days herself. Charlotte had offered her a guest room for the night. Before she’d confirmed her place in this world, Grace had thought it an act of kindness. No matter. She would stay, because even this house of frost would be better than driving home alone to the black night that waited on Edisto.
In the opulent bath, she peeled away her dress that smelled of gardenias and heartbreak. The shower water ran hot enough to tint her skin pink before she turned it cooler and lathered her hair, rubbing small circles into her scalp.
But she couldn’t massage out the ache that had only ever dulled, and sometimes, like tonight, sharpened. Making her into a woman filled with doubt and fear. Her breath caught against her ribs, and she braced her arms against the tile walls. During these moments, she missed Patrick the way she missed breathing easy, the way she missed the life they had made their own.
When she emerged, wrapped in the softness of a guest robe, as though Charlotte’s were a fancy hotel, a soft tapping broke the silence. Chloe stood on the other side of the door, hands clasped like Lula May used to hold hers when she waited on the dining room.
“Miss Grace, she’d like you to come to her sitting room, please.”
Grace put a hand on her hip. “I’ve told you—like I told your mama—do not call me Miss.”
The corner of Chloe’s mouth tipped. “Grace, bring yourself down to the sitting room, so I can go on to bed. Please.”
“That’s more like it.”
In the small—almost cozy—sitting room off her own bedroom, Charlotte sat in one of the chairs flanking the fireplace.
“You looked like you could use this.” Charlotte held out a small glass. Grace took it and sniffed. Bourbon. The expensive kind. “It will help you sleep.”
“Will it help me forget?” She leveled her gaze on her mother-in-law, noticing Charlotte’s eyes were rimmed red.
“Only what you want to forget.”
They sipped in silence, the drink burning Grace’s throat. But it seared away her tears.
“You looked very nice tonight.” Charlotte’s words came out formal, clipped.
“But still not good enough for your friends?”
The older woman sighed and lowered her glass to her lap where she spun the bottom of it against her palm. “They do not know you, Grace. They never have. Patrick—and then you—made sure of that.”
“You made sure of that.” She drained the last of her drink, feeling reckless and sad. A reminder of why she didn’t drink.
“I never thought you wanted this life he’d rejected.” Charlotte’s voice betrayed her. The tiniest crack.
Grace pulled up her knees and sat like a child. “I only ever wanted your acceptance.”
“I heard what you said to David tonight. Saw him leave.”
“He had to catch Lou before she got the wrong impression.”
“That seems to happen to them often.”
Grace rolled her neck. “Some people aren’t easy to love.”
“But you love them anyway.” Charlotte stood and collected the glasses. “Patrick, he could be selfish, strong-willed. With Louisa, he’d have remained that way. With you … he became better than the man I raised.” The corner of her mouth turned up. “I’ve never admitted that to anyone before.”
Grace rested her cheek on her knee, regarding her mother-in-law with wary wonder. “Thank you for saying that.”
“You know we offered him many options when he brought you home and announced your marriage.”
“That’s one of those things I’d like to forget.”
“He should not have sent you out that night. You deserved to hear him. If you had, there would be no doubt.” Charlotte’s voice thickened. “My son cleaved himself to you out of love.”
Grace believed her, because this admission probably hurt Charlotte more than the other. Then to her surprise, her mother-in-law extended her hand, cool and smooth. Grace took it, felt how paper-thin Charlotte’s skin had become.
“And if you’ll have me, I will try to do the same.”
Chapter 50
The phone rang over and over Sunday morning.
Each time Lou answered, David started with, “I’m sorry.” Why didn’t he get her frustration wasn’t about Grace? It was his promises, broken. How he always cast her desires aside to do what was best for everyone else.
“David, I’m tired and busy. We’ll talk later.” Then she’d hung up. Every half-hour later, he called back.
David had the ability no one else ever had. He could make her fall in love with him, and he could splay her heart wide open. She’d already put it back together once. She couldn’t do it again.
On the fourth ring, she snatched the phone and snapped, “I told you I’m fine.”
“Well. Good morning to you too.”
She gasped. “Liam. I apologize.”
“I take it I’m not the man you expected.”
“No.” Her mind scrambled. “I mean, yes.” Liam was exactly who she’d expected him to be. It was her ex-husband she could no longer understand.
He chuckled, but there was regret in the sound. “It’s all right, Lou. I watched you and David all night long. You belong together.”
“Too bad we’re divorced.”
“Too bad neither of you seemed to remember that when you were dancing.”
She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could finish assembling a cardboard box. Today was as good a day as any to start cleaning out the closets. Kept her mind off what Liam had just hinted. “I’m a terrible date.”
Now his laugh sounded real. “But you’re a wonderful research assistant.”
“Know your strengths.”
“Do you?”
Pausing, her hand on the closet door, she wondered. Did she?
“Because I’d like to bring you on full-time. My next grant will provide a decent salary and look great on an application for a doctorate of environmental studies.”
“What makes you think I want to be an environmentalist?”
“The way you get so excited when I tell you how the recent sediment samples show an ecosystem revitalization.”
Lou tugged op
en the closet door and dropped the box from under her arm. Nearly dropped the phone as well, but not because Liam’s words made her anxious. They made her happy. “Samples from the vegetation buffer zone?”
“Those are the ones.”
One side of the closet was all plaid shirts and overalls. Her mama had never emptied her daddy’s farmer’s attire from the rack.
“Lou?”
She reached for a sleeve, blue and green, the color of healthy water after all the debris had settled to the bottom. Water ready to wash back to the sea. “I’ll do it.”
“In that case I’m coming over with the contract before you change your mind.”
“I won’t.” This time she was sure.
She hung up as rain splattered the windows again. Surely the parting in these spring storms had been an omen of good tidings for Cora Anne and Tennessee. Cheered by the thought, she pulled clothes from her mother’s closet, packing donation boxes, making room for more in this house.
The way her mama would have wanted.
“Mama,” J.D. called up the stairs. “Ms. Grace is here.”
A silk blouse crumpled in her hands. Lou bent her head and breathed in her mother’s strength, surely the vestige of it still clung despite the dust and mothballs. Downstairs, she found Grace in the kitchen with her boys. They’d filled the kettle and set out the tea, as if her mother’s presence really did linger in that kitchen.
“I should’ve called.” Grace lifted her hands in apology. “But I needed to tell you—”
“Boys, can you go haul down those boxes of clothes I’ve already packed? Just put them straight out in the back of the van so I can take them in the morning.” This wasn’t a conversation for their hopeful hearts.
“Aw, Mom, it’s raining.” Cole blew across the hot chocolate he’d made for himself.
“Slacked off, actually.” Grace chimed in. “Better haul while you’ve got a break.”
Once their footsteps clambered up the stairs, Grace turned to Lou. “I was crying, and David acted like a friend. Don’t make this into something it’s not—and has never been.”
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