One Lavender Ribbon (19 page)

Dear William,
it began. Sara continued to read.

One thing Adrienne was good at was damage control. She’d unfairly dropped a horrible bombshell on Sara—and she wouldn’t blame the woman for not forgiving her—but now, only two weeks later, the two women were conspiring against the nursing home. Sara made no mention of William. Adrienne didn’t push the subject.

Instead, they invaded the grocery store and bought enough products to fund a bakery. “Bootlegging” them, Sara liked to refer to it as. The management of Southern Palms didn’t want kids skateboarding on the property, so feeding them was frowned upon, much as one might be warned against feeding bears or seagulls or stray cats. Sara was fearless in her efforts to keep the youngsters coming by. The management had scared the other residents into submission, but not her. Why couldn’t she be that fearless in going to visit William?

“I finished the upstairs bedroom.
Your
old room.” Adrienne had painted it Sara’s favorite color. “It’s lavender.”

“Lovely, Adrienne. I bet the house looks marvelous.” Sara tucked her hair behind an ear. The apartment was warm from the oven’s heat and filled with the delicious scent of fresh-baked goods.

Though her second visit had been more out of guilt than for fun, Adrienne was really enjoying Sara’s company. Since Adrienne’s own mother was usually too busy keeping up appearances or trying to fix her daughter, Adrienne hadn’t grown up with someone who wanted to let her be herself. Sara was like that: no nonsense, speaking her mind, and allowing others to simply be. “I was hoping you might come and see the house.” This was it. Her last-ditch effort to get Sara to Bonita Springs. And more importantly, closer to William.

Sara plunked the bottle of vanilla extract down on the kitchen counter. When she answered, her words were clipped. “Adrienne, I’ve given this a lot of thought. I don’t want to see William. My life is what I chose. I cared for him at one time, but those feelings are dead and I don’t want to revisit them. From what you’ve said, William has made peace—even with Gracie’s betrayal. I’ve caused him enough pain. I won’t be the source of more.”

Adrienne brushed flour from her cheek. “Okay. I understand.” She returned to her job of placing warm, gooey chocolate-chip cookies on a wide platter while Sara finished putting away ingredients. “I’ll drop it . . . for now.”

“My mind is made up.”

“
Okay.
Now, let’s go find some skateboarders.” They headed out, platter of cookies in hand. “You can’t blame me for trying.”

Just before they stepped into the bright sunlight, Adrienne watched Sara’s gaze shift to the antique bureau in her living room.

“Sara, is everything okay?”

For an instant, something white-hot flashed in the older woman’s eyes, but she quickly blinked it away. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

Adrienne frowned, noticed how Sara’s face had paled, as if her question had scared the color out of her skin. “You sure?”

“Everything’s perfect, dear.” But Sara refused to make eye contact.

Though Sara was good at harboring secrets, Adrienne was equally skilled at drawing them out.

M
orning, Pops.” Adrienne reached through the doorway and dropped a kiss on the older man’s cheek.

He rubbed the spot with his fingertips and motioned her inside. “Hooey, I could get used to that. Made breakfast for you.”

From the top of the stairs, a voice drifted down. Will’s voice. And hearing it sent little sparks zinging through Adrienne’s body. “It’s unfair that you two are sending me off to work.”

Hand resting on the railing, he came down the steps with his suit jacket slung over his free arm, looking dangerously sexy. Whew! Someone needed to turn on the ceiling fan. “Good morning, Will.” She hoped her voice was smooth but figured it wasn’t.

“It would be if I could ditch work and go to the garden show with you two.”

Pops waved a hand through the air. “Oh, poo. You hate the garden show. All those snooty women in floppy hats.”

Will’s eyes skated to Adrienne. He winked.

Pops yammered on. “Last time I made you go, you told me if you ever had to go again, to just shoot you instead, that it’d be less painful.”

“Well, maybe I like the company better this time.”

“And maybe that’s why I don’t need you this time.” Pops threaded his arm through Adrienne’s and led her to the kitchen.

She gave Will a “take-that glance,” complete with brows high and mouth tilted down.

He rolled his eyes. “You two have fun while I’m slaving away at work.”

“Yeah, we will,” Pops said, holding tight to Adrienne. “Don’t catch cold from all that air conditioning. Be careful not to get a nasty paper cut.”

Will left, mumbling about life being unfair. Adrienne dove into a nice plate of eggs and toast, and when she was just about finished, Pops scooted his chair a little closer. “Before we leave, could I . . . talk to you about something?”

Adrienne wiped her mouth with a checkered napkin. “Sure, Pops.”

“Something I want to show you.” His uncertainty was clear in the tone of his voice, the way he tilted his head from side to side.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Weathered hands rubbed together, and his brow furrowed. Pops left the room, leaving Adrienne wondering what had gotten him so upset.

He returned with his stack of letters and drew the bottom one out. Right away, Adrienne noticed it was written on a completely different kind of paper. This page was thicker, unlike the thin aerogrammes William used to write to Grace. She’d never seen this letter before.

With gentle hands, Pops took the handwritten note, unfolded it, and gave it to Adrienne.

Her eyes asked the question.

Pops nodded. “You can read it aloud.”

When her gaze fell to the opening, Adrienne pulled a deep breath.
“Dear William,”
She’d only seen letters
from
William, never one
to
him.

His hand fell over hers, stopping her. “It’s the only letter from Grace that survived. I lost a whole stack of them at Normandy when I lost my gear in the jump. When I got injured and they moved me from place to place, the rest of the letters disappeared. I made it home with this one but never really understood it. Thought maybe you could help me.”

Adrienne pulled a deep breath and began again.

Dear William,

Is it wrong of me to hope? To dream? Is it wrong of me to want you all for myself? I’ve become a selfish, evil girl. To share you is unthinkable. With each passing day, I visualize your return. I see you there on the steps of the train station in your uniform, with the smile that keeps my heart beating. Will you know me? Will you recognize me? The woman you love? The woman who loves you more than life?

There is no second of any passing day that I don’t consider the change we’ve both undergone. You left a boy but will come home a man. And when you left, I was a girl. But I’m a woman now. Things were simpler in days gone by, when our world was new and fresh with each adventure. Swimming in the bay, fishing from the shore. You and I were different then. Closer than any two people could ever be.

And yet, in your absence, we’ve grown together and not apart. I know you don’t understand this fully, but one day you will. One day you’ll know my secret. You’ll know I’ve loved you forever and forever. I will until the breath of life leaves me. I’m forever yours.”

Across the room, the clock ticked, and a strong breeze pushed against the house. Adrienne’s heart raced. This sounded like . . . like a letter, but not from Grace. But that was impossible. Surely, William would have recognized a different handwriting.

He interrupted her thoughts. “What do you think, Adrienne?”

She couldn’t look at the page anymore, so she folded it and placed it on the table. “I wish I knew, Pops.”

He pushed back in his chair. “I’d practically forgotten about it until I read some of the letters you gave me. It’s been stuck in a photo album for years. Betty made me keep it.”

“She did?”

“Yep. Said it was important to remember the past. She couldn’t make heads or tails of it either, just said she was thankful we met and I was heartbroken enough to fall in love with her.” He chuckled.

“I’m sure that’s not why you fell in love with Betty.”

“No, it wasn’t. She was a precious soul, my Betty. A good, good woman.” He nodded, emphasizing the fact. “This was the last letter I got from Grace. She sure doesn’t sound in love with another man.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Adrienne echoed.

Weathered hands folded together on the table. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the knuckles of his other hand as if the answer were right there in the folds of his skin. “Well, time’s a wastin’. Let’s get to that garden show.”

They stood up from the table, and Pops slipped the letter back into the stack.

They left the house with the heavy intrigue of a puzzle unsolved plaguing Adrienne’s mind. Somewhere in her heart, she knew Sara had the answer.

“Congratulations, Will.” Victoria Philips sidled into his bank office and took a seat across from him. She spread her arms like wings across the back of the chair and pushed out her chest, stretching the material of her sweater.

“Thank you.” He glanced down at the crystal award he’d received earlier in the day.

Victoria wore a business skirt that she let slide far above her knees as she sat down. Usually, he enjoyed the sensual purr of her voice. Today it didn’t have the desired effect. “Youngest executive in Naples Bank and Trust history to receive the esteemed award. How are you planning to celebrate?”

Celebrate? He wasn’t planning to. Receiving the award was celebration enough.

When he floundered, she spoke up. “Since you’re too dumbstruck to make a plan, let me help. Some of us are getting together later to have a going-away party for Jonathan. Why don’t you come along? I’ll buy you a drink.” With exaggeration, she tossed her blonde hair, and one brow rose, seductively. “Maybe even two.”

Intriguing, but he couldn’t help wondering why the sudden interest in him. He’d thought of asking her out in the past, but Victoria had made it clear that he was far too wholesome for her taste. The woman needed excitement. And sadly, he wasn’t the life of the party. In fact, he was rarely found at a party. Because alcohol seemed to be the hub of most office get-togethers, he rarely enjoyed the gushing camaraderie that accompanied those gatherings. Somewhere along the way, the invitations had ceased. It was his own doing, of course, but there was a little sting that accompanied it as well. He had no clue why Victoria was suddenly taking an interest. Or why his interest in her had just as suddenly taken a nosedive.

He decided he’d attend this party with Victoria. She—and her sweater—
really
seemed like they wanted him to go. Just as he opened his mouth to make the arrangements, Adrienne Carter flashed into his mind. He pushed her aside. There was no commitment between them. Just a nice dinner date that had rocked his world and kept him up late at night trying to remember the scent of her hair.

Victoria was a hot ticket with a great body accentuated by designer clothes and abundant confidence. He liked the idea of walking into a room with her on his arm. But again, picturing this, it was Adrienne’s face he saw.