leave.
“What I mean is, you used to be so independent.”
Used to be, as in, before you became an out-of-control, thieving drug addict.
“So you’re walking to and from your jobs?”
“Unless it’s pouring rain. I’d walk then, too, if Mom didn’t insist that I drive.”
“Uh-huh.”
She wished he’d yell at her. Curse at her. Give her a stern talking-to. Anything was preferable to this oh-so-calm stoic demeanor that told her he didn’t care enough to let anything she did rile him. Right now, Lillie wished she’d spent a lot more time talking with her therapist about her feelings for Jase. Seeing him at the flower shop had rocked her, but not nearly as much as standing mere feet from him.
“So, which restaurant?”
“The Sip & Bite.”
“And I’m guessing since you’re hoofing it, you’re clerking at the inn at Henderson’s Wharf?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Why did he care? He didn’t love her anymore. The way you still—
“Why not wait tables in their restaurant?”
“There weren’t any openings when I applied. Besides, I can pretty much choose my schedule at the Sip & Bite. And the tips are great.”
Jase’s brows drew together. “Do you ever miss being onstage, singing?”
“I’ll say. It’s one of the reasons I started volunteering at Hopkins’ Children’s Oncology. Some days I sing to the kids, other days I paint faces.”
He thumbed his cap back, causing some of his shining black hair to fall forward, hiding one eyebrow. Skeptical was as close as she could come to describing his expression. Had she hurt him so badly that he couldn’t believe it possible for her to spend time with sick children? That shamed her. Hurt her, too. But, she had no right to feel anything but sorry for all she’d put him through.
“I hate to sound redundant, but with two jobs, helping out around here, and putting in time at the hospital, when do you sleep?”
Now that he knew she couldn’t repay him—yet—why was he still here? To make her regret losing him even more than she already did?
Maybe a change of subject would put them both at ease. “Saw you on TV the other day.” He’d looked so handsome. So at ease, smiling for the camera, making small talk with the show’s host. Thankfully, she’d been alone in the family room, so no one had seen her drop onto the couch cushions and blubber into a throw pillow. “You’re a natural.”
“It’s a different way to make a living, I’ll admit, but since Mom’s stroke—”
“What! Stroke? When did that happen? How bad was it? Is she all right?”
He held up a hand. “Whoa. Easy, girl.” Grinning, he said, “She’s fine. Happened a couple months back. Doc says she should be fine as long as she takes her meds, exercises, eats smart.”
She felt selfish. Self-centered. Childish. Because in all the time she’d been away, her only contact with Colette had been when she placed a check into a carefully chosen greeting card that featured lilacs, Colette’s favorite flowers. According to her bank statement, the check had been cashed almost immediately, eliminating the need to call and make sure Jase’s mom had received the payment. It had been a relief, but sad, too, because she and Colette had once been almost as close as mother and daughter. One more loss to chalk up to the addiction...
“You’ll be happy to know that Mom is as spry and spunky as ever.”
Lillie inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank goodness. I suppose I should give her a call. Or better still, stop by with a little get-well gift.”
As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. Some people, her counselor had stressed, would never fully get over what she’d done to them.
Yet again, she wondered why he’d stopped by. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body, so it surely hadn’t really been to torment her...
“Mom and Dad are out back, cleaning up after the construction crew. The Sams and Matt and Molly and the twins are back there, too. I’m sure they’d—”
“I didn’t come here to see them.”
Despite the heat of the day, a chill snaked up her spine. She’d already made it clear that, unless he was willing to take a partial payment, she couldn’t reimburse him.
“Your...” Lillie couldn’t bring herself to say girlfriend. “Whitney seems nice.” She’s pretty, too. And tall.
Lips narrowed, Jase stared at the ground between his feet. Lillie had seen that grim look only once before, on the night he’d listed every way and every time she’d let him down. It took months to figure out why, in addition to anger and disappointment, guilt had flashed in his eyes that night: exercising tough love had been hard on him. But why did he look that way now, at the mention of Whitney?
His right hand shot out, startling her.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you again. Just didn’t want this guy getting all tangled up in your curls.”
Oh, he scared her, all right. But not because he held a daddy longlegs by one spindly appendage.
A tense snicker popped from her lips. “Yeah, well, maybe getting stuck would have been a good lesson for him. Hard to tell how long he would have been trapped in there!”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a slight grin. “A lesson. For a spider.”
“Then he’d know how helpless it feels.” She tucked a wayward wave behind her ear. “Being trapped, like the flies and moths he catches in his web, I mean.”
If she had to guess, Lillie would say he shared her next thought: I know exactly how that feels. She’d been trapped by addiction, and so had Jase because he’d loved someone in the trap.
“Are you thirsty? I made iced tea and lemonade this morning. We could drink it on the porch, out of the hot sun.”
Jase shot a quick glance at the porch and the row of rocking chairs that flanked the big double doors. Was he remembering, too, the way they’d whiled away the hours, counting stars, strumming guitars and finessing harmonies of new songs, or designing their future as crickets chirped and night birds peeped?
“No thanks, can’t stay. Just stopped by to say hi, and see how you’re adjusting to being home again.”
Home again. Not long after she joined the band, he’d written a song with that title, saying when he introduced it that he hoped it would inspire her to stay in Baltimore, rather than going back to touring the country.
Lillie shook off the bittersweet memory. “It’s all good.” It wasn’t. Not when she remembered the reactions of everyone she’d repaid. Not when she admitted they might remain leery of her. “I haven’t used in a long, long time, so I’m
