One Lavender Ribbon (32 page)

“Lots of information is online. Also, I have some photos at the house.”

“Thanks, Pops.”

“No, it’s you who deserves the thanks. You’re like our personal guardian angel.”

“You’re the angel, Pops.” She thought about the soldier Pops had been. “I’m honored to know you, Mr. Bryant.”

This seemed to catch him off guard, and he straightened. “I’m honored as well.” Age-weathered fingers rubbed against his thighs in the same manner she’d watched Will’s do many times.

He winked over at her. “Life is about relationships. The rest is all gravy. Hey, maybe gravy would make that sushi taste good.”

Adrienne laughed. “Oh, Pops.”

They stayed on the back deck until the very last bits of sunlight drained from the horizon, and only the stars and torchlight lit the world around.

Will and Pops went home, and Adrienne left the dishes in the sink while she dug through William’s letters in search of one. When she found it, she sat down at the table where Pops and Will had been just minutes before.

October 1944

Dear Gracie,

This may seem a strange topic, but it’s been going over and over in my head. When I come home and we become man and wife, how many children will we have? We’ve never discussed it. I don’t even know if you want a whole house full of kids or just one or two. Would you like a girl or a boy? I’d be happy with either. A little princess who looks like you. A boy I can toss a ball with and take fishing.

For a bunch of men in a foreign land with a job to do, we sure do talk about home. No, not talk, we dream. We dream with our eyes wide open and our hearts bare. We dream out loud, Gracie, and though a lot of teasing and ribbing goes on here, we don’t tease each other about that. There’s nothing funny about a soldier trying to remember home.

Come to think of it, we do harass Rick. He swears he’s going to marry Marlene Dietrich. Says he met her once in California. She was hiding under an awning in a downpour. He says the two of them had quite a nice time waiting out the storm.

I guess that’s what we’re all doing, isn’t it? Waiting out the storm.

I’m ready to build a life with you, Grace. Ready to hear the sound of babies crying, children laughing. Ready to smell fresh bread baking in the kitchen and fresh fish frying in the skillet. Think about it, Grace. When this is over, we’ll build a life around our dreams.

A boy, I think. Yes. I can see us having a boy.

Your future husband,

William

Adrienne pressed a hand to her heart. All those years ago, Pops had wanted a son. She retrieved her laptop from the front closet. She’d started storing it there after having to have sheetrock dust removed from her PC by a computer repair shop in town.

While it booted up, she thought of Pops and the son he spoke of in the letter, the son he knew he’d have, only it would be with a different woman than Grace. She narrowed her search to Africa and typed in “Charles and Peg Bryant.” Her computer screen illuminated the kitchen with a warm but mechanical glow as she studied photos of the couple.

Will favored his father but had his mother’s wavy, dark hair. They were an attractive couple and seemed most alive in the pictures that sported a dozen dark-headed, dark-skinned children. Adrienne studied the schoolhouse. It looked like concrete, with holes for windows and doors. Special attention was given to photo after photo of the water reservoir and villagers filling everything from bowls to gourds with the clear liquid. Once she reached the bottom of the page, the good feeling dissolved. Concern drew her brows together as she read the words
Charles and Peggy Bryant’s funding has been cut in half. This was effective in January; however, they have continued their work with little interruption. If you’d like to donate to this important cause, contact us.

Could that be why they weren’t able to come back for Pops’s birthday? Adrienne tapped her index finger on her bottom lip. Of course, she should leave this alone. It wasn’t her place—as Will was always so quick to remind her—to get involved.

Adrienne stared at her kitchen counters, wondering what two airline tickets from Africa might cost. Her gaze fell to the granite samples stashed in the corner. She let out a long, agonizing sigh. Granite probably wasn’t that great after all. She chewed on the inside corner of her mouth. Did she really want granite or was she just getting it because it was the counter choice du jour? But she knew the answer. She had wanted granite countertops since she’d taken the gourmet cooking class.

While struggling with the choice that lay in front of her, Adrienne was reminded of something she’d once read. “When one is confronted with a random act of kindness that is neither expected nor ordinary, one is obligated to meet that kindness and exceed it if possible.”

She squared her shoulders, smiled to herself, and typed in “International Airlines.”

After getting the ticket prices, she looked up the number and was now speaking to a Peace Corps representative.

“I’m interested in information about a couple in Africa. Their names are Charles and Peggy Bryant.” After being connected to the right person, Adrienne asked when the Bryants were planning to come back to the States.

“The Bryants will not be stateside for nearly a year.”

Adrienne could hear the woman typing something on the other end of the line.

“Actually, they put in a request for a trip next month; however, due to funding, they withdrew the request.”

Adrienne’s heart began to beat harder. “Would it be too late if they still wanted to make the trip?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “You mean, if enough money were to come in to cover the tickets? No, it wouldn’t be too late. We encourage our people to get back to the States when they can.”

“Is there a way you can find out if they still want to come?”

“Yes. Are you interested in giving a monetary gift toward their trip?”

“No, ma’am.” Adrienne threw one last look over at the granite samples in the corner. Strangely, the desire to have a granite countertop had lost much of its previous luster. “I’d like to pay for their entire trip home.”

Silence again, but only for a moment. “That’s very generous of you!” the woman stammered. “I can contact them by e-mail today.”

Adrienne could hear the smile the woman was undoubtedly wearing. She smiled too, feeling more fulfillment than granite countertops could ever give her.

The two women made arrangements to speak the following day. By then she would know whether the Bryants would still make the trip.

The first call from Peg Bryant came late at night. “Is this Adrienne Carter?”

“Yes, it is.” The gentle hum in the receiver confirmed the faraway call. Adrienne had just finished replacing a section of rotten wood she’d discovered in the back of a kitchen cupboard, and her hands and hair were dotted with sawdust from the project.

“This is Peg. Peg Bryant.”

“Hello.” Quickly forgetting the dust trail she left as she went, Adrienne settled into her rocking chair in the living room. The one Will had so comfortably rested in. It really was a great chair. Great house. Filled now with people and life. Parties and plans. “I feel like I know you, Peg. I’ve studied the pictures of you and Charles online.”

“It’s wonderful to get the chance to talk to you, Adrienne. We are so looking forward to coming home, and you alone made it possible.”

Adrienne smiled.

“We receive letters from Pops regularly. He can’t say enough about you.” The phone line crackled, and for a horrible instant, Adrienne thought the conversation would be cut short.

“He’s very special. But honestly, since Sara has come back into his life, I’m surprised he says anything about me.”

There was a pause. Did Peg and Charles not know about Sara?

“I’m sorry, Adrienne. Got distracted there for a second. Yes, Sara. He is quite fond of her.”

The phone line buzzed and crackled. Adrienne gripped the receiver tightly as if she were able to stabilize the voice coming through the miles. Peg continued on. “I mainly wanted to tell you thank you. We’re looking forward to meeting you.”

“If it’s okay, I’ll plan to pick you up at the airport. Don’t want to spoil the surprise for Pops . . . or for Will,” she added as an afterthought.

“I can’t wait to get there.”

“It won’t be long now. Thanks so much for calling, Peg.”

Adrienne hung up and hoped the next five weeks would pass quickly. She wasn’t planning to tell Will his parents were coming.

When the doorbell rang, Adrienne jumped. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she rose, hand to her heart, and paused at the window to glance outside. What she saw made her mouth drop open. She slung the door open. Gerbera daisies filled her vision. Somewhere behind them was a delivery person, but all she could see were two arms cradling the vase and legs as if the bouquet had grown limbs.

“Adrienne Carter?” The voice was strained.

“Yes!” Before he could say more, she took the bouquet from him.

The flowers brought the room to life with the vibrant orange, deep red, and sunny yellow of the Gerbera daisies. Adrienne placed them on the dark wood end table adjacent to her rocking chair, her new favorite place to sit. In the bunch, she found a small card. It read, “For you, honeybee.”

They were from Will. Whatever was his preoccupation with bees, she didn’t know. She only hoped that after five weeks’ time, he wouldn’t be nursing a nasty sting.

“I think you need more flowers,” Will said, stepping inside her house. His gaze scanned from one side of the room to the other. “Yes. Definitely more flowers.”

“You’re spoiling me. A girl could get used to this.” She closed the door behind him and turned in case he wanted to kiss her. Which had become his habit. A lingering kiss, hands warm and firm against her hips.

“I’m hoping a girl does.” He moved in and with one deep sweep of his head stole her breath and weakened her knees. It was almost enough to frighten away the anxiety growing with each passing day.

“Help yourself to coffee. I’ve got to rinse out a paintbrush. Be right back.” She floated upstairs on the wings of his hello kiss, pushing away the thoughts that nibbled at her. Truth was, Adrienne was torn. On one hand, excitement fueled her work. She’d remodeled the upstairs guest bathroom with touches of the vibrant colors inspired by designs from Africa. Charles and Peg were coming. She had been e-mailing them on a regular basis but only heard from them once a week, Internet access not being as easy for them as for her. Arrangements were made. She’d pick them up at the airport late Friday night. They’d stay with her until Saturday, the day of the party. Neither Will nor Pops knew they were coming. In this, there was method to her madness. Perhaps Will would be tenderhearted, getting to see them unexpectedly. Maybe he wouldn’t have time to sort through all the different ways to avoid talking to his father. Maybe he wouldn’t kill Adrienne for interfering again.