One Lavender Ribbon (10 page)

Pops rubbed a hand over his face, elbows on the table. He threaded his fingers together, chin against them, and leaned slightly toward her. “So sorry, Miss Adrienne. Love is an unpredictable thing. It is beauty and tragedy.”

Adrienne took a thoughtful moment. She nodded.

“Pops, you sound like a Hallmark card.” The somber mood that had filled the kitchen dissipated. Will glanced at her with an apologetic smile.

She smiled back. And really, didn’t she owe William this? She had walked into his life without his consent or approval. “My husband was unfaithful. It was the last straw. So I began looking for a house to remodel here on the Gulf Coast.”

“Good for you,” William said, rising from the table. “How is the remodel going?”

“Considering I’ve never done anything like it, I’d have to say it’s going well,” she said, but noticed Will’s eyes had not left her. “Until a week ago.”

William pulled a piping-hot pan of cobbler out of the oven and turned. “What happened a week ago?”

“I found your letters.” The aroma of homemade crust and fresh fruit made its way to the table. Even though she was full, she salivated.

Pops set the pan down on the stove top. “My letters have distracted you that much?”

She nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“Perhaps I better take them back, or you’ll never get your house finished.”

Will had grown quiet.

“I don’t even remember what I said in them. Sitting down to write a letter was an escape for most of us, like a little mini-vacation from the madness.” He sat back down and drifted off to another time and place. “When I had downtime, there were only two options. Write a letter to Gracie or read a letter from Gracie.” He reached for the photo on the table. His hand ran along the torn portion. A tiny frown drew his brows together as he examined the jagged edge where Gracie had once completed the photograph.

Adrienne swallowed, her appetite for cobbler gone.

His finger moved from that side of the photo to the other; a gentle smile touched his face, dissolving the struggle she’d just seen. “Sweet Sara,” he whispered, lovingly. “She was fourteen when I left. Her mom had just bought her this dress. Gracie and I took her to town and got the picture made. It was the only time I ever saw a dress on Sara.”

Adrienne settled into the chair.

Memories danced, catching the light in his soft blue eyes. “She was the original tomboy. Rolled-up pants and hair tied back. You would more likely find her at the fishing hole than at a dress shop. Sara loved to fish.” He set the picture on the table.

When Pops’s voice cracked, Adrienne’s heart crumbled. She looked away, feeling this was too intimate a memory to be privy to. But the silence became stifling, and she looked back to Pops to find his eyes misty.

“I guess she grew up while I was gone.” His index finger ran across her picture as if trying to capture her essence. “I just wish I knew what happened to her . . . ”

The sadness in his tone pierced Adrienne’s heart. “You never saw her after the war?”

“No,” he said. “After Gracie died, Sara and her momma packed up and moved back to North Carolina. They were gone just days before I came home.”

Adrienne shot a quick look to Will but couldn’t read his face. She reached over to Pops and placed her hand on his sun-darkened arm. “I am so sorry about Gracie.”

“Love is beauty and tragedy, remember?” He patted her hand. “Gracie’s letters got me through the darkest chapters of my life. I would never have survived without her. I still thank God she kept writing. She made a choice to follow a different path, fell in love with someone else, but she kept me alive. And I never knew it from the letters. She still sounded just as in love as the day I left. It wasn’t until I got back that I learned . . . ” He paused, cleared his throat. “Maybe if I’d made it home quicker, she wouldn’t have left town with that other man. She died one month to the day before I got home.”

“And Sara was gone too?”

“Sara was gone.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know how to find her, contact her. We both lost our best friend when we lost Gracie. I wanted to be there for Sara, but she didn’t stay in touch with anyone here.” He cradled the photo. “Didn’t leave an address. It was like she just disappeared.”

Years had healed the wound, but not the sorrow. To still hold Gracie in such high regard was remarkable, and Adrienne was once again reminded she was in the company of an extraordinary man.

Will, on the other hand, seemed to have grown increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. “I didn’t know any of that, Pops. Your life is full of mysteries.” He stood to clear the dishes.

Pops picked up the cue and stood as well, stretching up slowly, using the table for support. He took the plate from his grandson. “Let me.” He motioned toward Adrienne. “Why don’t you two go sit on the front porch while I clean up.”

But both Will and Adrienne protested and began moving dishes and silverware to the sink. After all the work he’d done already, neither one was willing to let him clean too.

“Fine,” William said, sounding tired while the two of them sprang into action. “When you’re done, you can go wait for me out front. I’m going to relax for a few minutes in the living room while the cobbler cools. I’ll meet you out there when it’s ready.”

Adrienne slid dishes under running water, rinsing them before placing them in the dishwasher. Without the buffer of Pops in the room, an awkward silence hung in the air. Will hadn’t wanted her here in the first place, and blast it all, he was just so irritatingly difficult to get a read on. “I should probably go home. I think I’ve disrupted enough of your evening,” she said.

Will stopped and turned to face her. “I’d like you to stay. Pops is a social creature but doesn’t get many visitors. You—you’ve made it a nice evening for him.”

Well, that was unexpected.

Unexpected. A good description for the younger Mr. Bryant. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, causing her to have to look up to see his eyes. She did and found him to be uncomfortably close. He’d been passing her dishes for the last several minutes, standing close, then moving away. But now there were no more dishes in his hand, and it was just him and his broad shoulders and bright green eyes.

One side of Will’s face cracked into a smile. “Besides, Pops would be crushed if you left before having some of his homemade cobbler.”

“What about
your
evening? I feel like I’m intruding . . . ”

His gaze dropped to her lips for a split second, and Adrienne felt a whoosh of hot blood shoot from her head to her stomach.

“You’re not intruding.”

Okay, Will seriously needed to turn down the intensity level on those eyes.

As if he’d picked up on her discomfort, he moved away. “In fact, you’ve been a great help. If you hadn’t been here, I would’ve had to clean all the crab.”

“I’m good at cleaning them—just lousy at getting the shells safely to the trash.”

“Well, that’s a talent that takes years of practice.” He recovered the last plate, rinsed it, and handed it to her to slide into the dishwasher.

She tilted her head to the side, eyeing him. “You didn’t do so well either.” She reached under the sink for the detergent she knew would be there.

“I was distracted,” he said, taking it from her and pouring it in.

“Did I distract you?” she teased.

“Yes,” he admitted, a mischievous grin animating his face. “I thought you were some nutball.”

“Oh, very nice. But now I’m okay?” She slid the lock on the dishwasher, and they nearly bumped heads as both bent to set it to the proper wash cycle.

He shrugged. “We’ll see.” Will had an amazing smile, and he knew just how to use it, she realized. He motioned for her to follow him outside. The two of them paused in the doorway. “We’re headed out, Pops. Let me know when the cobbler’s ready to cut.”

William mumbled something from farther in the living room. Will shook his head at his grandfather’s obvious attempt to leave them alone for a while.

Adrienne and Will stepped outside into the evening air. Two large trees laden with Spanish moss secured the front yard. Tall, spiny trees stood at attention along the edge of the driveway, guardians of the Bryant fortress.

“It’s beautiful out here,” she said. Tropical bushes and pots of vibrant flowers surrounded them as they moved to sit on the porch swing, where a thousand crickets serenaded.

“I’m sorry about your marriage.”

Ugh. They really didn’t have to go there again. Tension knotted Adrienne’s neck.

Will threaded his hands together. “I see that happen a lot at work, and it’s a shame.”

The breeze moved the giant palm leaves of the nearby trees as if whispering to the night’s sky. “Thank you. You see that at work at the bank?”

“I’m the senior loan officer there.”

“Oh,” she said, trying to make the connection between divorces and banking.

He seemed to pick up on her confusion. “I handle a lot of business accounts. Couples getting divorced who are joint owners in a business rarely want to stay in business together.”

“I guess a lot of businesses sell for that reason, huh?”

“Some, but more often one party will buy out the other. That’s where I come in. New business loans, new paperwork.” He used his index finger to scrape at the paint on the swing’s armrest. It sported a bare section, and she thought he must do that often. “Trust me, I’ve sat in on my share of ‘he said, she said’ conversations where both parties are more concerned with hurling accusations at each other than taking care of their incomes and investments.”

She frowned. “In the middle of a divorce, income is the least of your worries.”

“When it should be at the top of your list.”

Adrienne stared at him.
You can’t really be this dense. This callous.
“When your world is crumbling around you, you don’t stop to think about money.”

“I know, and that’s a problem. I mean, isn’t there enough upheaval with the divorce? I’d think people would want to protect what stability they have.”

“Wow. Stability must be really important to you.”

He turned to face her. “Isn’t it to you?”

Heat rose to her cheeks. “Oh yeah. Absolutely. That’s why I bought a house practically sight unseen in a town I’ve never been, planning to restore what most would condemn. Yeah, I’m all about stability.” Her words hung in the air, emotions dredged up and raw.

He sat quietly for a few seconds, his fingers lacing and unlacing in slow, methodical motions. “Sorry, Adrienne. That doesn’t sound very stable.”

A humorless laugh escaped her lips. “Well, we’ve discovered I’m all about stability and you’re all about compassion.”

She watched his brows knot, and then understanding came into his gaze. How could anyone over age
fifteen
not understand what love does to the heart? And the brain.

William Senior stepped out onto the porch just in time. He must have felt the thick tension in the air because he set three bowls of blackberry cobbler on the table and split questioning glances between Will and Adrienne.

The metal chairs scraped against the wooden deck as they pulled them from under the patio table to sit. It was Adrienne who broke the silence. “This looks wonderful, William.” She scooped a plump blackberry into her mouth, tangy sweetness zinging her taste buds, helping erase her frustration with Will.

“I’ve been perfecting this recipe for twelve years.” He tilted his head back.

“Come clean, Pops,” Will said with a hint of humor and accusation in his tone. “This was Grandma’s recipe. You haven’t changed it a bit.”

“That’s not true,” Pops corrected. “Sometimes I add the salt first, sometimes the baking powder.”

Adrienne laughed. One thing about Will, whether he was frustrating or not, he adored his grandfather.

“And it tastes the same every single time,” Will reminded him.

Now that Pops had joined them, the earlier tension dissolved. “William, I have a confession to make.”

Both men abandoned their plates and gave her their attention.

She twisted the checkered napkin in her hands. “I wasn’t completely sure I’d find you. Or get to talk to you.” Her gaze skated to Will. His eyebrows rose.

“What I’m trying to say is, I don’t have the letters with me.”
And I wasn’t about to leave them with Will
, Adrienne added silently.
Even if he admitted to being your grandson.

William’s light-blue eyes smiled at her. “That’s okay. You can bring them back another time.”

Adrienne shot a quick glance over to Will, but his reaction was unreadable.

William took another bite, “If it isn’t too much trouble for you.”

“No, I’d love to come back.”
Maybe during banking hours, when your aggravating grandson is gone.

She met Will’s gaze and hoped he hadn’t read her thoughts. But she didn’t find the contempt she’d expected. In fact, he almost seemed glad he hadn’t completely run her off.

“You really enjoy those letters don’t you?” Pops’s light-blue eyes wrinkled at the corners.

“I do,” Adrienne whispered.

“Do me a favor then?” Pops rested his elbows on the table, fork hovering over his dessert.

“Anything.”

“Make yourself a copy before you bring them back.”

Her gaze dropped to the table. “Are you sure? I mean, they’re . . . well, intimate.”

“I’d be honored to share them with you, Adrienne. Love doesn’t always go the way we hope, but that doesn’t mean we can stop living. It doesn’t mean love isn’t a beautiful thing.” Aged fingers rubbed swollen knuckles, and his gaze intensified to the point that she thought she might burst. “You understand?”

Don’t stop living.
Oh, she understood. That was a tall order. One she wasn’t completely sure she could manage. Adrienne exhaled and looked away, beyond the yard to a long stretch of road, the road that had brought her here. The road that would later lead her home. It was becoming familiar, each turn, each bump. “I understand.”

When there was no more cobbler and no other excuse to stay, Adrienne returned home. It was nearly 10:30, and the cool breeze of a coastal night proved too much for her to resist. She chose a random letter from the stack and went out back, where a moon framed by a million stars shone against the water. Off in the distance, she heard the hum of a motorboat moving slowly along the horizon. Adrienne opened the letter and read.