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 healthy, too, physically and emotionally.” She sighed. “Much to the surprise of just about everyone.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Family, friends, the guys in the band.” And you... “Not that I blame them.” She tugged off the other work glove. “A lot of water passed under the bridge.”
“More like a flood.”
Lillie couldn’t very well disagree. Face the discomfort, she told herself. Face it head-on.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s only natural that people doubt a full recovery. Even after talking with the rehab staff...” She shook her head. “I don’t expect most of the people in my life will forgive and forget easily. I realize that I still have a lot to prove.” Should she say it? Lillie went for broke: “To everyone.”
She braced herself, waiting for Jase to agree that he, too, was still wary.
“I can’t be a hundred percent certain,” she went on, “but it seems at least Mom and Dad have confidence in me again.”
“But not the Sams, or Molly and Matt.”
“Oh, they’re all being really nice. I think they know how hard I’m trying, but—”
“A case of ‘do or do not, there is no try,’ huh?”
If she’d had her way, their first real conversation wouldn’t have been anything like this. For starters, she’d have called him, arranged a time and place to deliver the money she owed, and in place of muddy sneakers, holey jeans and a paint-spattered cap, she would have shown up in something feminine and colorful. Lillie had never minded his take-charge personality. It was how he’d stayed on top of things as manager of the pub, what helped him turn his mother’s business into a thriving corporation. Without that trait, he wouldn’t have looked and sounded so professional on TV.
Right now, though, Lillie wouldn’t have complained if Jase was a bit less competent.
In all fairness, Jase wasn’t responsible for how bleak she felt. Her addiction was. One of the toughest things about coming home had been seeing and hearing for herself that everything they’d said at Rising Sun had been true: you may never win back their trust, so remember, you’re doing this for yourself. Lillie felt strong enough to cope with that for now, but what if her loved ones felt the same way in six months or a year? Would she be strong enough then?
“Aw, quit looking so glum, Lill. I watched you tough it out through those awful exercises during physical therapy. And you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t toughed out rehab, too. You’ve got that going for you, plus, you’re stubborn. More stubborn than anyone I know. If you really want to beat this thing—permanently this time—you will.”
If? Why the extra emphasis on the word?
“So how long have you and Whitney been dating?” Lillie hoped he wouldn’t tell her there was more to the relationship than that.
“Not long. Couple months, give or take.”
Her dad implied that Jase had seen other women, too, since their breakup. Any rational person would agree that he had every right to move on. At the moment, Lillie wasn’t feeling very rational.
She started to ask how they’d met when he stopped her with “I, uh, I guess I’d better head out. Need to get dog food, pick up some groceries and stuff.”
“When did you get a dog? What breed is it?”
This time his quiet laughter sounded halfway sincere. “It isn’t mine, it’s Mom’s. He’s a mutt. German shepherd–Doberman–Irish setter mix, near as the vet can tell. Good-lookin’ pup, but big. And sheds enough to make a whole other dog. Ronald showed up at her door one day, and stayed.”
Lillie smiled at that. “Ronald, huh?” She remembered the full-color autographed photo of the former president on Colette’s office wall, right beside the letter he’d dictated, detailing the country’s appreciation for Jase’s dad’s years of military service.
Jase only nodded.
“I’m sure she’s grateful for the companionship, especially since you and Drew and Dora travel so much.”
A look of disbelief crossed his face, and he took a half step back.
“I didn’t mean for that to sound like I think you aren’t doing enough for Colette. I’m sure you’re there every chance you get. Drew and Dora, too. I haven’t exactly earned any daughter-of-the-year points, so I have no room to talk.”
Jase’s eyes narrowed just enough to tell her he wasn’t sure whether to believe her.
“Anyway,” he said, replacing his cap, “I’m outta here. It’s good to see you’re doing well, Lill.”
“Good to see you, too, Jase.” Saying his name brought forth the memory of Whitney, calling him Jason. “You are still going by Jase, right?”
“Of course. You know how I feel about being called Jason.”
“I only asked because the other day, Whitney—”
The muscles in his jaw tensed. “Yeah, she’s the only person who calls me that. I’ve kinda learned to live with it.”
He sounded as annoyed as he looked. Difficult as it was to take Whitney’s side, Lillie said, “She probably just wants to make sure everyone knows that her relationship with you is different—more special—than any other.”
“I guess that might explain it.”
Although he followed up with a dry chuckle, Lillie sensed that he wasn’t happy. She tried a different tack.
“Have you told her that you prefer