Softly and Tenderly (32 page)

“I skipped book club.” She dropped to her knees and wrapped Beryl in a lingering hug.

Sharon and Elizabeth drove in next with a pot of lilies and set them at Beryl’s feet. June sat in the Adirondack chair next to her, feeling every bit like a lady-in-waiting to the Queen of the County.

As the fire and conversation grew, one by one, cars turned into the Walker-Fitzgerald place. Old friends of Beryl’s. Coworkers. Newer friends of Beryl’s, friends of Aiden, Jade, and Willow.

Dustin and the boy he works with, Hartsomething, pulled in with a hoopla, parked a big truck, and then set up speakers on the edge of the bar and blasted an oldies station over them.

June watched Jade as Dustin joined their crowd of friends. He stood next to her, tracing his hand down her back. She caught it with hers, holding on for a long moment before letting go.

Jade, wake up, sugar
.

“June, this is my old Midwest Parcel boss, Rolf,” Beryl said, greeting a pencil-like man with too much mustache under his nose.

Rolf bowed to the Queen and her lady. “It’s a pleasure.”

The melancholy and golden scene expanded as more cars turned into the drive. So this was Beryl’s going-home party.

What joy and sadness to witness. But June wanted her time to be just like this. And she would always believe Beryl’s good-bye began with the song of the redbird.

The house was quiet except for the clink of dishes being put away. Max slowly ascended the basement steps.

At nine o’clock, Asa was out cold. The Iowa air and running wild over the grass was good for him. He’d had a blast tonight, eating more marshmallows than a nineteen-month-old—look at that, he knew his son’s age off the top of his head—should eat before bed.

Asa was the star of the party besides Beryl. Bookends. The one just entering their world and the one about to exit. The unspoken balance comforted them all.

One minute in the warm bath, and the little boy’s eyes drooped. Mom diapered him and he was asleep before she could slip on his pj’s.

Max found Mom alone in the kitchen. “Hey, where is everyone?”

“Willow and Linc are out by the fire, making sure it dies down. Aiden went off to bed saying his jet lag was still messing with him. How’re you, darling?” Mom wiped a large bowl and tucked it into a bottom cabinet, then smoothed her hands over her jeans.

“I’m hanging in there, Mom.” He wrapped his arm around her, kissing her temple. “How about you?”

“I’m doing all right, son.”

“Are you going home for the swearing in?” Max leaned against the counter.

“Thinking on it. But I’m doing kind of fine up here on my own. I might want to stick it out for a while.” June reached for the next dish to dry.

“I’ll support you, Mom. But I love you both. And, for the record, I’m not too happy about this thing with you and Dad.” Max took the dry dish from her and followed her pointing finger to the right cupboard. “Guess I’m not a rose without any thorns myself.”

“I suppose none of us are.” Mom handed him another bowl. “Have you told Jade?”

“About my plans? No, not yet.” She barely gave him room to say hello to her.

“I’m proud of you . . . This is not an easy step.”

“The alternative is worse.”

June handed him a plate and pointed to the next cabinet. “You can do anything you put your mind to, Max. It’s why the pills always puzzle me.”

He settled the plate on top of the stack, then peered down at Mom. “When I find out why, I’ll let you know.”

June patted him on the back. “I bet you didn’t come up those stairs looking for me.” She motioned with her eyes toward the ceiling. “She’s upstairs.”

When Max hit the top step, Jade was coming out of Beryl’s room. A small yellow light trimmed the dark space between the door and the frame.

“How is she?” He stopped on the top step, his hand on the banister.

“Sleeping. She loved the party, but it wore her out.” Jade leaned against the wall, fingers in her pockets. “Don’t know what it is about the prairie night and a bonfire, but . . .” She pinched her lips shut. Yeah, he understood. She didn’t want to open up to him yet.

“Are you too tired to talk?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I can talk.”

Max was grateful the bonfire had made her mellow. “I saw a place down the road. The Hoss? Want to go there? I’ll ask Mom to listen for Asa.”

She hesitated, thinking. “Let me wash up.”

The ride to the Hoss was quiet, but the kind of quiet that comes from two people who knew each other well. Did she sense it too?

“You holding up okay?” Max finally asked when he parked in a spot by the front door. The Hoss was an old warehouse with a neon sign blinking red, blue, and green onto the hood of his Mercedes.

“I am.” Jade leaned forward a bit, squeezing her hands between her knees, sighing. “I’m getting used to the idea of her dying.”

“She looked really happy tonight.” Max wanted to brush his hand against her neck, but kept it resting on the console. “You’re making her final days good, Jade.”

“Doing the best with what time I have.” Her sigh broke his heart. “Ready?” She popped open her car door.

The Hoss was a country-western establishment with a big dance floor in the middle, booths and tables along the side, a Budweiser sign blinking over the bar.

Tonight the place was mostly empty. A western song blared from a jukebox, and two guys with John Deere hats played pool in the front corner. The crack of balls was dissonant with the music.

A booth halfway down on the right-hand side was occupied, but otherwise, Max and Jade had the place to themselves.

“Hey, Jade.”

“Hey, Sticks.” She motioned to Max. “This is my . . . husband. Sticks and I grew up together.”

“Good to know you, Jade’s husband.” The round man with big teeth nodded at them. “You guys take any booth, Jade. I’ll be out with menus.”

“The food is really good if you want something, Max,” she said, leading the way to a booth in the back corner, passing the only other occupied seat.

Max looked over.
Great
. There was Dustin. And his redneck buddy who went by his last name. Fortunately, they were with two lovely ladies.

“Jade.” Dustin hopped out of his seat.

“Hey y’all.” She stopped, leaning to see who sat with her ex.

“You remember Katie,” Dustin said, head down a bit. Max recognized the posture. The one of a man being in love with another man’s wife.

“Katie, yeah, great . . . to see you.”

“Fun bonfire, Jade,” Hartline said, his arm around an intelligent-looking brunette.

“I’m so grateful y’all came out. Mama loved it. Really made her day.”

“I remember she used to have some wild parties in, what, junior high?” Dustin slid back into the booth next to Katie.

Good, move on, man. The one you love is taken. The one next to you is pretty.
She seems bright enough
.

“Oh yeah”—Hart pointed, grinning—“and her friends pitched tents.”

“Can’t deny the fact Beryl loved a good time,” Max said. Jade looked up at him. Well, did she expect him to stay out of the conversation? He needed to act like a husband here.

After a few more pleasantries, Max and Jade sat in a booth in the back. One away from the “gang.” Sticks came around with water and menus.

“I’ll just have coffee. Decaf,” Max said.

“Diet Coke for me, Sticks. Thanks.”

“Coming up.” He headed back to the kitchen by the way of Dustin’s table, saying something that got them laughing.

“Prairie City’s a neat place, Jade.” Max arranged the salt and pepper shakers.

“It’s home.”

“And Whisper Hollow?”

“Home, Max.” The sheen in her eyes reflected the light hanging over their table. “But both have their lovely and dark memories.”

“I’m sorry, Jade. I was a jerk,
am
a jerk.”

“Max, I kissed Dustin.” She tore at the end of the napkin wrapped around the utensils. “The other night.”

He sat back, gripping the edge of the bench seat. “I see.” The confession rattled him, but he wasn’t surprised. Much. “Are you in love with him, or just getting back at me?”

“I wouldn’t do that to him. Or you.” She unrolled the napkin to blow her nose. “I kissed him because I wanted to, because I wanted to feel cherished.

And I’m telling you because I’m sick of all the secrets and lies.”

Max sat back as Sticks brought their drinks. He didn’t blame her. As much as it sliced his heart to hear she kissed another man, one she could easily love, he couldn’t be angry. Not very, anyway. Jealousy stung like the dickens, though.

“Cherished, huh?” Desired? He could mount a case for desire. He wanted her all the time, but in light of her words, he’d not done such a good job of cherishing her. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Jade,” he confessed softly. “I’ve wanted you since the day we met. I love you. Don’t you know I could lose myself in you, babe?”

“Until you lose yourself in something else, someone else. Yourself.”

He reached for the sweetener container. “Touché.”

“I’m Dustin’s Rice, Max. His first love. His first wife. The one who is a shadow on his heart.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“Not in those words.” She sipped her soda, shaking her head. Even tired and in the dim light, Max was captivated by her face and the sheen of her hair as it fell over her cheek. “I can tell. In some ways it helped me understand why you were with Rice.”

“But, Jade,
you
are my Rice. I never loved her like I love you. Like Dustin loved you.”

“But she was your childhood friend and lover.”

“
That’s
what made the night in Vegas easy. The familiar. Not because I still pined for her or because she cast some large love shadow over my life. She was a friend with benefits, if you know what I mean. And I’m sorry to admit it now. But when I dream of life, it’s with you.” Max peered into the dark surface of his coffee before lifting the cup to his lips. “What do you dream about, Jade?”

“Dreams . . . such a mystery.” She peered into the empty room. The smack of pool balls had ceased. “I’m not sure what I want to dream about anymore.”

One of the pool players dropped a quarter in the jukebox. A voice filled with longing and ache sang, “As the knot comes untied.”

Between filtering through Max’s platitudes and the tenor of Dustin’s voice rolling over her shoulder, Jade was distracted. Did Dustin like Katie? Love her? Why should she even care?

Jade blinked, shook her head lightly, and tried to focus on what Max was saying.

“I’m sitting right here, Jade. I’m not walking out. I messed up, but let me remind the court it actually happened before our wedding.” Excuses, always with the reasons and whys. “As for me and you, I’m not leaving, Jade. I’m all in, committed.”

He looked strained, as if trying to run for the goal while a defender held on to his foot. Was he doing this for her? Or for himself?
Lord Jesus, give me wisdom
.

“Max, I don’t know what to think other than I don’t trust you.” Her voice quivered as she stirred her drink with the straw.

“All right.” He nodded. “That’s fair. Very fair.”

“Fair or not, it’s true.”

He shoved his coffee aside and stared at the bull-rider-clinging-to-the-bull mural reflecting in the mirror from the bar’s opposite wall. “I’m going to Texas next week for four months. The Outpost. It’s a ranch in the middle of nowhere where we work in the morning and have sessions in the afternoon and evening.”

“When did you decide this?”

“Few days ago. With Tripp. This place is more like ‘man up, you big baby.’” She knew he wanted her to laugh, but she continued to putter the ice around in her drink with her straw.

“What happened?”

“Ooo, lots of things. Starting with the McClures suing for custody of Asa.”

“Your dad told me. So what happens with them if you’re in rehab? Or this man-up ranch? Whatever.” The ice watered down her soda, so she shoved it aside.

“The firm hired a detective to do a bit of digging.”

“On the McClures?” Jade wrapped the straw paper around her finger, then looked up when Sticks set a new drink in front of her. “Whisper Hollow’s Mike and Carol Brady?”

“Gus comes from a long line of moonshiners. Under his Southern gentleman veneer is a hard Appalachian man with a suspicious past. There’s an open capital case that was never solved, and Gus McClure’s name appears on the fringes. All we did was pull some files and evidence, show it to Gus, and ask him to drop the custody case. Otherwise, we might visit the DA to see if he’d wants to open a forty-year-old murder case. DNA testing has come a long way since the ’60s.”