One Lavender Ribbon (22 page)

White hair framed a face so covered with shame and regret, Adrienne wanted to go to her, but she dared not. Pops didn’t seem stable. He’d swayed more than once since she’d grabbed his arm.

He clambered to hold the doorframe. “It was all a lie, your momma making you leave town?”

Sara nodded.

Slowly, William’s shoulder shifted and he pulled from Adrienne’s grip. His gaze skated across the yard for a long few moments, then came to rest on Sara, then Adrienne, before he focused on the porch floor. Time ticked by, with no words or actions to fill the void, until it seemed the very air would explode under the pressure. Sara and Adrienne remained frozen. William pressed his lips together, blinked, and started to turn. His hand pivoted on the doorway as he silently moved into the house, leaving a deathly hollow emptiness where he’d been.

T
he day turned breezeless. No sounds except for that of a lone seagull in the distance. Sara dropped into the seat at the end of the porch, haloed by flowers and greenery, her eyes wide and filling with unshed tears.

Adrienne’s heart shattered, and she moved to the spot where a bloodless oval face stared through the planks of the floor.

“I’ve hurt him again,” Sara whispered through trembling lips.

Adrienne gripped Sara’s hands as much to console the woman as herself. “I thought it would go better.” Her apology was such a pitiful token, a worthless token. She’d watched the two of them crack and break, the past too painful a place to trudge through.

Sara, eyes swimming, said, “I want to go home now.”

Adrienne’s heart cracked a little more. For a split second she envisioned Sara sitting in her living room, staring into nothingness. The woman had been happy, content before Adrienne showed up. She took Sara by the arm and lifted her, trying to give strength.

But a shuffle at the front door drew her attention.

There Pops stood, staring at the two women on his porch. First his eyes rested on Adrienne, then shifted to Sara, the woman who had loved him.

Sara’s face crumpled under the pressure of decades of unspoken words. All the years of shame washed over her in wave upon wave of buried secrets and forbidden love. She took a step toward William but stopped.

“Sara?” he whispered.

She swallowed and shot a quick glance to Adrienne.

Unable to give her any indication of William’s reaction, Adrienne shrugged apologetically.

William ran a hand over his face, brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

Sara’s eyes were rimmed with red, her head hung low. “I . . . ”

He took a shaky step toward her. “It changes everything.” He began to move to the far end of the porch where she stood, but stopped and sucked in a deep breath. “I could have been there for you. When Gracie died, I could have helped you through it.”

Shock registered on Sara’s face. Bit by painstaking bit, her body released its tension. “You . . . you’re not mad?”

Pops ran his hand over his thighs. “Furious. Mad to the core of my being, but what of it? I’m old, Sara. I don’t have time to waste. You’re here. On my porch. And you’re trying to right the wrong.”

A tiny smile appeared on Sara’s mouth.

William put a trembling hand to his lips. “Sweet Sara.” He reached his arms out wide and shuffled toward her.

Adrienne pressed her mouth together in an attempt to fight back the tears as the two met in the center of the porch. William lifted his hands to Sara’s upper arms as if he were soaking her in, remembering her as the younger woman he’d known so many years ago. He pulled her close into the circle of his arms, and she rested her head against his chest and cried.

He hugged her, touching her shoulders, then cupping her face in his hands as if he couldn’t believe she was there. With weathered thumbs, he wiped the tears that ran down her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” Sara whispered, white hair dusting her shoulders. Some loose strands lay across her face, but she didn’t bother to sweep them back. “I’m so sorry, William.”

He shook his head and had to tilt her chin up so that she would look him eye to eye. “No, Sara,
I’m
sorry for not trying to find you after I came home.”

They held each other, crying, laughing, and crying again. And Adrienne cried too. Standing there on the porch, she stopped fighting the tears. For several moments they stayed there, the two old bodies pressed together, swaying gently from side to side as a lifetime of deceit dissolved like salt in hot water.

Wiping her eyes, she noticed the black Mercedes in the driveway. Adrienne’s heart stopped beating, blood turned to ice in her veins. She recognized the car. But her mind was reeling. He shouldn’t be home this early. And it looked like he’d been sitting there a while.

William took Sara by the hand. “Come on inside. We have a lot to talk about.” Completely unaware of his grandson’s early return, and equally oblivious to Adrienne, William led Sara into the house, lightly cradling her arm with the caution one might use to hold a butterfly.

Eyes focused on the black Mercedes looming in the driveway, terror spiked through Adrienne. But equally startling and quick on its heels, something protective erupted within her. If Will wanted to be furious at her for interfering, that was fine. But there was no way in the world she was going to let him spoil this reunion. She squared her shoulders and descended the steps, ready for the fight. Fight was something that didn’t come naturally to her, so the sudden rush of adrenalin caused her hands to fist. She wasn’t a fighter. She was a conformer. In each and every situation she
conformed
to what everyone else needed or wanted. Well, not this time. Her teeth were pressed so tightly together, her jaw ached.

The sun beat down on her as she walked across the lawn to his window. When she reached him, he was sitting in the car, staring straight ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white. Finally, he shot her a look .

“Get in,” he said.

For a moment she could only stare at him.

“Get in,” he said again.

Confusion flickered through her, and she threw a look at the house, the sight of Pops and Sara and their tender embrace still fresh in her mind.

His words drew her back. “Don’t you think they need some time alone?”

She didn’t really know what to do. People had been murdered and ditched for less. And this whole new
fight
thing left her uncertain.

His eyes softened. “Adrienne, come on. You’re safe with me.”

Her thoughts drifted back to the fishing trip, his strong hands helping her onto the boat. How tenderly he slid the pole into her grasp and gave gentle tugs on the line to teach her what a bite felt like. She’d been scared when the engine rumbled to life, and he had eased her fears by moving her to the seat beside him. She was too much of a chicken to remove the fish from her hook, so he’d held the slimy thing with his own hands and wrapped her hand in a towel so she could remove the hook without having to feel the fish wiggling against her. She’d been safe then.

And she was safe now. Before making a conscious decision, she moved to the passenger side of the car and slipped in beside him. Cool air hit her as she pulled her seatbelt on. When he put the car in reverse, she said, “Should I let them know we’re leaving?”

He shook his head, resting an arm on the back of her seat as he backed out of the driveway. “Honestly, it’ll probably be hours before they realize you’re gone.” An edge of accusation in his words bit into her.

She fell silent, the hum of the engine accompanying them as Will drove toward the edge of town. The midday sun was an orange bulb above, cut only occasionally by thin ribbons of cotton clouds against the blue sky. Will’s vehicle smelled like him. It was a calming scent of leather and man. Right now, she was too nervous to enjoy it.

When they turned onto a gravel road, Adrienne chanced a curious glance at him. She swallowed as they passed the small sign that sent a chill down her back. Loose pebbles and shells crunched beneath the tires as they moved slowly through the woods.

The cemetery opened up before them, covering acres of gently rolling green meadow. He stopped the car and lowered the windows. The smell of fresh earth, heating in the summer sun, drifted inside—a stark reminder they were at a cemetery. Adrienne noticed the section to the left, obviously the oldest part of the graveyard. Though kept in good repair, the century-old headstones leaned with the weight of years, some sinking into the soft ground.

“So you want to fill me in on what happened back there?”

She swallowed. “Will I find myself in a shallow grave if I do?”

A buzzing sound drew her attention, and a bug shot into the window. Adrienne jumped, arms flailing. Will grabbed her hands, trapping them on her lap. “No, no, no. It’s just a honeybee.”

She stopped, but failed to see how that information should make her feel better. Bees had stingers.

The oval-shaped bug fluttered to a stop on the passenger visor.

Will chuckled. “A honeybee.” He shook his head and drew a deep breath.

Uncertain about . . . well, everything right now, Adrienne told him about Sara and William and the whole sordid story. “By the end, Pops was really happy she came.” Adrienne added that for good measure.

Silence followed. Flowers dotted the landscape and were bunched at the heads of several graves. Over the hillside, Adrienne could see for what seemed like miles.

She searched Will’s profile for an explanation as to why the cemetery.

“I haven’t been back here since my grandma died. I should be ashamed of that, but I never really understood why people visit graves.” His hands rested on the steering wheel until he reached to shut the engine off. “A grave represents death. Wouldn’t you want to remember somebody’s life?”

Adrienne opted to remain quiet, unsure whether he sought an answer or not. And unsure about how he felt about this whole thing. He was so unreadable sometimes.

He studied her for a moment, then fixed his gaze on a point in front of them. The engine clicked as the dust the car stirred up settled around them.

Will pointed to a hill beyond the cemetery. “See that?”

It was a gray house encircled by a white picket fence. From where they sat, they could see a family sitting in the yard. A small child played in a sandbox.

“That’s Pops’s house.” He stared for a few moments, as memories from his childhood seemed to flood him. “It took me three months to talk him into moving in with me. But I couldn’t bear to think of him spending every evening sitting on his back porch alone, staring at Grandma’s grave.”

If Adrienne could possibly feel any worse about what she’d inadvertently put this man through, she did.

He angled to look at her. “I didn’t bring you here to show you a cemetery, Adrienne. In fact, when I turned onto the road leading here, I wasn’t sure why. But . . . you gave my grandfather a gift today. In one afternoon, you gave Pops something I’ve been trying to give him for five years.”

When she searched his eyes, Will said simply, “Hope.” He reached over and lightly touched her cheek.

The warmth of his hand eased her anxiety.

“Thank you.” She’d taken a horrible risk. It could have gone either way. Adrienne exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “I know this can’t be easy for you. I can’t even imagine how hard it’s been to watch Pops grieve for his wife.”

Will nodded. “I just don’t want to see him hurt anymore. Come with me.”

They stepped out of the vehicle. It was a quiet afternoon at Wainwright Cemetery. He paused at the front of the car and leaned against the warm hood, so Adrienne did too. She looked out over the hundred or so tombstones that stood like miniature pillars of the lives each represented. It was eerily peaceful.

Will broke the silence. “Pops is so strong. He’s the strongest man I’ve ever known.”

She looked over at him, his crisp white dress shirt now unbuttoned at the neck, where a tie had undoubtedly been. He looked so good, and he was opening up to her, and that felt
so
right. And here they were, sharing intimate things and feelings, and that felt
new and perfect. She wanted to bury her head in the hollow of his throat, as much for herself as for him. Before she realized it, she was leaning toward him. She quickly caught herself.

Oh. Oh dear.
She chanced a look up to his face. He remained unfazed, staring out over the horizon. She took his preoccupation as an invitation to study the contour of his jaw, the way his throat curved, the capable shoulders. He began rolling up his sleeves, and she watched his arms where lean muscles flexed under tan skin. She was instantly reminded of how he’d looked wiping down the boat when drops of sweat gathered on his shoulders and chest. He had athletic muscles, now hidden under a dress shirt, but she’d seen them up close, so she let her mind play with the memory.

But the moment stretched and Adrienne had to wonder how she could be so caught up in him when he was all caught up in staring out over the cemetery.
He
didn’t even know she was still there. Didn’t know what he was doing to her.
I’m invisible
. The thought irritated her. “Thank you for not being angry with me.”