One Lavender Ribbon

Chapter 21

A bad day painting was better than a good day wallowing in self-pity. But it wasn’t a bad day painting. It had, in fact, been a great morale booster. She’d worked, scrubbed, and cleaned along with all the people who had joined in Will’s quest. She’d steered clear of him for most of the day, making the entire thing tolerable on the heart level. Adrienne returned home feeling good, really good about how she’d spent her day.

By nightfall, she and Sammie were swapping stories about the school project. “It’s going to be on the local news.”

“That’s great. Maybe even more people will be inspired.” Adrienne said.

Sammie nodded, rubbing her elbow. “Boy, I hate getting old. My elbow’s on fire.”

“Well, I never saw you take a break all day. I’ll get us some iced tea.” Adrienne disappeared into the kitchen.

Sammie eyed her. “Are you saying this wound is self-inflicted?”

“I’m just saying I have aspirin if you want it.”

“Nah.” Sammie waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll rub some castor oil on it when I get home.”

Sammie and her home remedies. “Castor oil. Yuck,” Adrienne said as she handed Sammie a tea. Sweat had already accumulated along the side of the glass. When she flipped her mop of red hair out of the way and took a drink, some of the condensation gathered and ran along her hand.

“This is really good.”

“Sun tea.” Adrienne had finally gotten used to the humidity and the fact that even inside, water rapidly condensed on a glass.

“I noticed Ryan painting near you a lot. I think Will noticed it too. Wonder what he thought of that?” Her friend took another long drink.

“I can’t care what Will thought.”

“So, you and Ryan?”

But Adrienne was already shaking her head. “No.”

Sammie gauged her with narrowed eyes.

The scrutiny was unbearable. “There’s just nothing there.”

“Hmm.” She poked her elbow and winced.

Adrienne shrugged. “I almost wish there were. But I just don’t feel for him like—”

“Like you do for Will?”

“I was going to say like I should.” Adrienne reached for a cork coaster and placed her tea on the coffee table.

“So, it’s not Will that you’re in love with?”

Adrienne made a pouty face. “Actually, I do love Will. Okay, I said it. I love him, I love him, I love him.” She paused, letting the words fall to the ground and die. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

“Honey.” Sammie tilted toward her, long red hair tumbling forward. “It changes everything.”

“I don’t see how.”

Sammie leaned back, stretching her arms out at her sides and resting them on the couch pillows. “Tell me something: Why did you break it off with Will?”

No psychoanalysis, please. It wasn’t something she could explain in an instant.

“So you wouldn’t get hurt, right?” Sammie filled in for her, tipping the palm of one hand up toward the ceiling.

“To super simplify it, yes, I guess.” Adrienne didn’t want to talk about this. She’d redirected the subject a dozen times with Sammie, and she could do it again.

“But you failed. You’re already hurt. You’re in love with him, Adrienne. Don’t you think that deserves a chance? Isn’t it worth fighting for?”

But Adrienne didn’t want to fight. She simply wanted to exist and enjoy life and not have to watch her back. She couldn’t blame Sammie for what she was trying to do, In fact, she loved her for it. But it was a dead issue. She wouldn’t risk the betrayal. And that’s exactly what it was. A betrayal.

Slowly, she shook her head. “Is it worth it? Probably to most people.” She stood up from her chair and moved toward the edge of the room.

Sammie turned on the couch to keep her in view.

“But not to me.” Adrienne went into the kitchen for a few minutes, then returned with a glass of water and two aspirin.

Sammie sighed and took them from her.

It was a setup. Adrienne knew it. She’d sensed it coming and knew exactly how she would respond. Sara was on the other end of the telephone line, bubbling about the wedding plans and the honeymoon and all the fun that accompanied the special day. Sara had lost seven pounds, which she was now spouting off about. She talked about cutting down on red meat and blah, blah, blah. Adrienne brushed a hand through her hair, the recipient of her own disgust. Why couldn’t she just put her feelings aside and be happy for the two without feeling sorry for herself?

“Anyway,” Sara crooned, “I need you to come with me and Pops and Will. We’re going to have brunch at the Naples Elite Beach Resort. We need to finalize everything for the rehearsal, ceremony, and reception.” Sara continued her spiel about healthy eating.

Adrienne leaned her head against the living room wall. She’d go, of course. She had to. She wouldn’t disappoint Pops and Sara for anything. It was just so hard to be around Will. Of course, it was hard not to be around him, as well. Though over two months had passed since the birthday party, Adrienne still found herself thinking about him on a daily basis. She heaved an angry breath forcing him from her thoughts. Again.

“Are you all right, dear?” Sara asked, evidently concerned.

“Oh.” She snapped to attention, not wanting the older woman to know how uncomfortable these situations made her. “Yes, great. I would love to go along. I’ve heard so much about the brunch at the Naples Elite.”

“We’ll pick you up Saturday morning around ten.”

“Oh, this Saturday,” she scrambled. “I have some errands to do, so I’ll just meet you there.”

“All right,” Sara replied. “Thank you again, Adrienne.”

But she didn’t feel deserving of thanks or appreciation of any kind.

She just felt trapped.

By the time Saturday morning arrived, Will had changed his mind three times about what he would wear to brunch. After trying a dress shirt and linen pants once more, he opted for a polo shirt and jeans. Adrienne seemed to always comment on how good he looked in jeans. This is stupid, he told himself. As if a magic pair of pants is going to make her fall in love with you.

The host escorted them to their table, but Will wasn’t hungry. His stomach was a tight wad of nerves that made food seem repulsive. He sat so that he could watch the door. When she entered, his heart started pounding.

A filmy white sundress floated around her hips. Tall wedge sandals elongated her legs, highlighting the muscle tone in her slender calves. Her skin was a little darker, and the dark hair that feathered across her shoulders moved as she stepped. She was stunning.

Adrienne reached the table and hugged Pops first, then Sara. Turning to Will, she stepped around the table and gave him a courtesy hug as well. He breathed deeply, her scent, her life force—everything about her surged into his system.

“Good to see you, Will.”

“You as well.” He tried to sound casual, but, in a word, he was bankrupt. Completely and utterly bankrupt. Would he ever get over this woman? No. And honestly, he didn’t want to. He had told his father that he would never give up on Adrienne. And he meant it. He still meant it. Seeing her again—after their little sticky-hot moment at Sammie’s—just solidified his commitment. There was no other woman in the world for him. She was it. She was everything.

They ate overlooking the bay. Outside, the water glistened in anticipation of the cruisers, fishing boats, and clippers beginning to set sail. Sea spray reached upward to cool the sun-heated deck. Its overspray salted the restaurant window.

Pops and Sara were going to be wed at this very hotel. Will’s folks were coming home for it, and all should be right in the world. If only he had the woman he loved where she should be. In his arms, at his side.

He stole glances at Adrienne. She was unreadable, untraceable as she chatted about the remodel and the upcoming wedding. She had successfully buried whatever was going on in her mind beneath a friendly—albeit steel-hard—smile. From all outward appearances, she was having a great time visiting with Pops and Sara and even him, for that matter. Which ticked him off. She shouldn’t be all casual and elegant and happy when he was being leveled inside. Each laugh, each flicker of her lashes, pounded away at him like a wrecking ball against a condemned building.

Disappointment stabbed his chest. They’d had something special, something unique, but she must be over him. Whatever they had shared—powerful as it may have been at the time—seemed gone. Then again, Adrienne Carter was a complex woman, one that could not easily be read by outward signs. A woman with layers. When Pops and Sara left the table to walk out to the balcony, a thick silence stretched between them.

“Thanks for coming,” he blurted.

She smiled. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

“It means a lot to Pops and Sara.” His hands were sweating. “And I’m glad I got to see you.”

Her eyes came to meet his across the table. “Will, for Pops and Sara’s sake, I hope things can be . . . ” She fumbled for the right words, then continued, “congenial between us.”

Congenial. The word dropped into the pit of his stomach and gnawed. So that was it. Where he stood with the woman he loved. The world around darkened, leaving only a tiny pinprick of light. “Okay, if you think that’s best for now.” Was he agreeing with her? No. It wasn’t best. Now or ever. What was best was for him to spend the rest of his life with this woman. But Adrienne couldn’t be pushed. She’d spent too many years being pushed by people, and he never, ever wanted to be lumped into that group. She had to reach the right conclusion on her own. Simply, it was out of his hands. But he also wouldn’t let her lie to herself. That’s what she was doing. His eyes drilled into her.

Her gaze on him was strong, sure, but when she blinked, the first crack emerged, then another. Her shoulders dropped a tiny degree, and there it was, the old fire pushing, tearing its way to the surface—just like it had at the coffee shop.

This was his chance. Will leaned in and trapped her, meeting her forced certainty with a dose of his own. “Is that what you really want?”

She swallowed but held his gaze. “It is.” Then she blinked several times and looked away.

There was a flash, something in her eyes. He saw the lie. Her heart betrayed her, brilliant as a neon sign. For now, that would have to do. All he knew was that he’d never give up on her. That tiny spark let him know there was a chance. Slim, but a chance nonetheless. Even if it was only a seed.

“I guess your remodel is almost done?”

“Almost finished.” She seemed grateful for the change of topic. Adrienne sipped her coffee.

“It’s been a long project, hasn’t it?”

She nodded, looking over to the large bay window where Pops and Sara stood holding hands, watching seagulls dance and tip their wings into the wind searching for breakfast.

“What next?”

“I’m going to sell it.” She attempted to sound casual, but there was a finality in her tone. “I may be moving. I’ve applied to a cooking school in Tallahassee.”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The thought of her leaving the area had never occurred to him. How could he convince her they should be together if she wasn’t even here? Cold lightning blasted into his chest. “I didn’t know. Does Pops know this?”

“No one knows yet,” she admitted. “Well, my real estate agent and now you.”

His mind swam in a murky pool. “They’re going to be disappointed. They care so much for you.”

“I care for them too.”

Again, her eyes were telling a different story than her words. She didn’t just care for them, she loved them like family. Her heart wasn’t pleased with this decision, and he fought to offer reasons why she shouldn’t go. “You have friends here. Sammie.” It was a pathetic attempt. But he had to try something.

She nodded. “Well, if the house sells quickly, I’ll have enough money to get into the school and rent an apartment. I’ve put all of my divorce settlement into the house, so I need to sell it to move on.”

He stared at her, and heat crawled up his neck.

Adrienne rolled her eyes. “If I get accepted.”

Her amused detachment caused more than a little concern. He told her she had friends and all she could say was “If the house sells quickly, I’ll have enough money to get into the school”? This was all wrong, and he wasn’t hiding his panic well.

She noticed, chewed her lip, and tapped her coffee cup absently with her fingernail. “It’s not that I’m trying to leave here, but that’s where the school is located. Since I already have a business degree, I could open a catering business.” Her eyes dropped again. “I’ve always been interested in that.”

“I, uh, hope it works out for you, Adrienne,” he managed, but his voice cracked. There was little sincerity in his words. Things were quickly spiraling out of control, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it, wasn’t a thing he could do about her because of everything Adrienne needed, independence topped the list.

When Pops and Sara returned, they discussed final arrangements concerning the wedding. Adrienne pulled a small notebook from her bag. “Since the wedding is at three o’clock on Saturday, the hotel wondered if we could do the rehearsal on Friday morning. It works better with their schedule, and I thought it would be good to get it done and have the afternoon to rest before the big day.”

Pops and Sara agreed, but Will’s mind was far away. He’d been little help in this meeting, and though feeling useless, he couldn’t seem to shake it.

After another thirty minutes of chatter, Adrienne slammed her notebook shut. “I think that’s it!”

The four of them left the restaurant, Will, Pops, and Sara heading to Will’s car and Adrienne getting into her car. After shutting Sara’s door, Will rested his hand on the hood and watched as the woman he loved pulled out of the parking lot, the flash, flash, flash of her turn signal reminding him that she was headed in the opposite direction. Away from the people she loved. Away from him.

“Moving?” Sammie asked, hands on hips. “Were you planning to tell me?”

Adrienne waved her in the front door. “Nothing is set in stone yet. I may not even get accepted into the school.”

Sammie sailed into the kitchen and dropped the two bags of coffee beans she’d brought on the counter. “But you are selling the house?”

Adrienne answered her with a gentle nod and quiet words. “Yes, I am.”

Sammie rushed back out and slumped into a chair at the table.

Adrienne sat across from her. “I just decided this. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about it yet.”

“You know what I think?” Sammie countered, hurt lacing her words. “I think this is a cop-out. I think you’re scared to stay here because of Will, and you’re running away.”

Adrienne toyed with the edge of the salmon-colored place mat. “Maybe.”

Sammie leaned forward. “You love him, and you’re scared you’ll give in if you’re here. So you’re just going to remove yourself from the threat.”

She was right. And Adrienne couldn’t deny it. She also wouldn’t change it. “My mind is made up, Sammie.”

Sammie heaved a sigh. “Can I tell you how I feel about this?”

Adrienne smirked. “I thought you just did.”

“When you came here, you said you wanted to work on who you are as a person. You wanted to be a stronger woman. And over and over I’ve watched you make tough decisions and burst through layer upon layer of weaknesses. But this isn’t one of those times. Now, when there is something on the line, something really worth fighting for, you’re just shrinking back into that old cocoon. It won’t fit anymore, Chicago. It’s a coffin. And now that you’ve grown, it’s too small. It will suffocate you. And it won’t take very long.”

Coldness snaked through Adrienne’s veins.

Sammie brushed at her skirt with frustration. “You have no idea how often I’ve envied you. You’re young, you’re beautiful, you’ve got so much going for you. But, I gotta tell ya, Chicago. I’d rather be a used-up, broken-down coffee-shop owner that lived life to its fullest than a young woman who refuses to live at all.”

Adrienne threw up her hands. “That’s what I’m trying to do. Live my life.”

Sammie pressed her palms against the table. “Look, I’m not trying to scold you. I just think that he continued to grow and you stopped.”

“What do you mean?” She’d grown. Was growing, changing, becoming the kind of woman she wanted to be.

Except, maybe she wasn’t.

Maybe all these decisions about taking her life in her own hands, steering her own ship really was a cop-out. It nearly killed her to sit at the table with Will and watch Pops and Sara on the balcony of the restaurant. All of them happy, moving forward while she . . . well, was her decision to sell and move an attempt to outrun the pain? The memories that were so fresh here? When she looked at the ocean from her back deck, all she saw was Will and Pops. She envisioned catching fish and throwing crab claws on their kitchen floor. When she walked upstairs, all she saw was Sara walking around with a book on her head, instructing Adrienne how to be a lady. All these things were just ghosts—ghosts from a past that had nothing to do with her future.

It didn’t matter that it hurt so bad. She wasn’t quitting. A quitter would curl up inside herself, inside her shell, and never come back out. Adrienne was trying to move on. Wasn’t that brave? At least a little? Sammie’s insulting words stung. “What do you mean he kept growing and I stopped?” There was a bite to her tone that she wouldn’t apologize for or feel bad about. Sammie was out of line.

“You told me that you were going to give Will time to change. You said that his big hang-up was that he didn’t deal with things, and he just let them fester. His parents being the biggest wound. But he’s made peace with that. He’s even made the choice to embrace Pops’s past, though it’s painful to both of them. Kiddo, the young man has jumped through hoops.”

Adrienne stared blankly at her.

“For you. He wasn’t asking to grow, but he made the choice to when you confronted him with it. You came here to grow, but now you’re running away.”

Adrienne wanted out. Sammie couldn’t understand. No one could.

She shrugged. “So he got mad when you did something that could have ultimately caused a lot of pain. Big deal. You took a risk with people you barely knew, but these are also people he’s fiercely devoted to. How else should he react? You sort of set the precedent, don’t you think? Then he reconciled with his parents. And instead of appreciating all he went through, you slammed the door in his face.”

Shock kept Adrienne from breathing. Everything around her was going dark, the haze closing in on her field of vision until all she could see was the woman she called friend.

Sammie suddenly stood from the table. “You know what? I’ve said all I’m going to say. You’re still letting Eric run your life. I feel sorry for you, Adrienne.” And Sammie left.

Adrienne stared at the bowl of fruit that sat in the center of the table. The apples were going bad. Tracing the ugly, brown spots, she reached over and plucked them one by one from the basket. The oranges still looked good. She loved the oranges here. She loved the selection of fresh tropical fruit that was available at the grocery store on the corner and the farmers market in the parking lot every Saturday morning downtown.

Her eyes scanned the house. This house. Her house. The one she’d found while searching “property for sale, Florida Gulf Coast.” Adrienne had made the offer with her entire being screaming to back out. There was strength within her that—though buried under the dirty blanket of Eric’s abuse—had been unearthed. She’d given the house time, love, and a fair portion of her blood. It had all been worth it. She could let it go. After all, it had given to her as well. She had learned she could make it on her own. She was strong. And even though she loved this house, loved this town, and, heaven knew, she’d fallen in love with several people here, she’d be okay. Without a second thought, she tossed the apples into the trash. Besides, Tallahassee had grocery stores too.

The morning of the rehearsal, the day before the wedding, Adrienne’s nerves were pounding out their own rhythm. She wanted everything to go perfectly. It will, she kept telling herself as she willed the butterflies from her stomach. Mary Lathrop had called her to say they had an offer on the house, but Adrienne couldn’t be bothered with that right now. Two weeks ago, she’d received the acceptance letter from the culinary school but was shocked at her own lack of enthusiasm over it. It was what she had wanted. She should be excited.

It’s the wedding, she decided. She and Sara had spent countless hours on every detail, and in all honesty, Adrienne was tired. That was the reason for the lack of enthusiasm. Once she got some rest, she’d be excited about her new adventure. Of course she would.

Adrienne stepped into the ballroom and gasped. Though she’d been there late the night before, putting on the finishing touches, she’d been too tired to appreciate the space as a whole. Her energy had gone into things like adjusting a spray of white lilies until they were just right and spreading a shimmering white rope along the edge of the seats to let guests know where to sit.

Was this really the same room she’d barely noticed last night? Shades of white from warm winter to soft, billowy cotton were repeated in every portion of the decorated space. The elegance of her surroundings made her smile. It was perfect, and Pops and Sara were going to love it.

The rehearsal went smoothly, with gushing remarks from each new person who entered the room. Sara hugged her, thanking her and telling her that if she’d had a daughter, she would have wanted her to be just like Adrienne.

But Sara seemed reluctant to let go and hung there for a moment, arms draped over Adrienne’s shoulders. When the older woman released her, Adrienne scanned her eyes. Though Sara was trying to hide it, Adrienne could see the exhaustion on Sara’s face. It was masked by the quick smile that sparkled, but beyond the façade, there was desperation.

As Sara glided across the room, dread crept into Adrienne’s being. Had the bride-to-be just stumbled a bit? Sara reached a table and leaned there for a few moments before continuing on. Something was wrong. This woman had outwalked all of them at both the zoo and the Air Force celebration.

On top of that, Sara looked pale. Understandably—Adrienne herself was exhausted, and Sara had kept up a steady pace with her through the work and decorating. But Sara was in her late seventies.

Again, Adrienne watched her lean against a table. By the time the rehearsal was over, Adrienne decided to insist Sara go straight home with her to rest.

But it was too late. As Adrienne began to move to the entrance door where the happy couple were standing and talking, Sara’s eyes fell on her across the room. A moment later they were rolling back as she collapsed to the ground.

First, Sara’s weight slumped against Pops, who took a steady hold on her despite the confusion registering on his face.

Adrienne broke into a run and dropped beside her. Sara lay unconscious in a pool of soft white silk. Her skin had paled to a disturbing deathly white. Pops had lowered her to the ground and knelt beside her. “Sara? Sara!” He choked on the name. Will dropped too, and there they all were, surrounding the bride. Pops ran his hand over Sara’s still arm, mumbling incoherent words. The man who’d cheated death for over eighty years was crumbling.

Somewhere behind her, Adrienne heard someone say an ambulance was on the way. Various hotel personnel bustled in and out, but none were able to help. Sara lay quietly.

Peg screamed as she entered the room. She and Charles had gone to check the hotel room arrangements for Pops and to make sure he and Sara were booked into the honeymoon suite.

Charles dropped beside them all on the floor. “Is she breathing?”

Will removed his suit jacket and placed it under her head as Adrienne held Sara’s hand. It felt cold. Thin and cold like tree branches in winter. Vaguely aware of what was happening around her, Adrienne caught tiny snatches of conversation. People talking, gasping, wishing they could hurry an ambulance that would move on its own schedule, and no amount of looking at one’s watch would change it. But the only thing Adrienne heard clearly—and each word sliced into her heart—was Pops’s choked sobs as he cried, “No, please God, no. Not again.”