She looked down at her hand, felt the warmth flowing through it. Then she looked up at him, into those eyes that had anchored her for so many years, and she knew she’d lost the battle.
Chapter Nine
July 21
Birmingham, Alabama
Lily dropped her duffel bag in her bedroom and darted into the bathroom to turn on the shower. She was running late, as usual, but it had been hard to force herself out of bed that morning and go for a three-mile run. She must have hit the snooze button at least four times.
She glanced at her reflection in the large mirror over the double sinks. Maybe it was ridiculous to shower before doing yard work, but she refused to be seen looking so ragged and sweaty, even if it was just Jackson and his mom.
She reached behind the curtain to test the water, adjusted the temperature, and then pulled off her shirt and tossed it into the hamper. She heard the ringtone of her phone in the bedroom and ran to grab it before it went to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Beautiful,” Alex said.
Her stomach did its usual flip, and she smiled to herself.
“Wow, what a nice surprise! I thought you had training all day.”
“I do, but I got some good news, and I couldn’t wait to tell you.”
“Let me guess. You made detective without even having to take the test.”
He laughed. “No. I wish. But it’s just as good. I was asked to join the SWAT team.”
“Alex, that’s great! Congratulations.”
“Well, I still have to go through some evaluations, but I got it in the bag, I’m sure. The Sergeant said my shooting scores have been the best in the department the last six months.”
Lily glanced down at her watch. “That’s awesome, really. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks. I have to run in a minute. Can I give you a call later?”
“Uh, sure. I have some stuff going on, but I’ll call you back if I miss your call.”
“Stuff, huh? What kind of stuff?”
“Just some errands.” She paused and tried to shake off the awkward sound her voice had taken on. “And Jackson’s mom needs some help around her house, so I agreed to stop by later.”
There was a definite span of silence on the other end. Maybe she shouldn’t have said anything. Their conversations had been going so well the past few days. She’d hate to ruin it. He cleared his throat.
“Jackson again. I thought you two were history.”
“Well, in one sense we are. I mean, we’re not back together or anything. He just thinks we can stay friends.”
“And what do you think?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Well, it’s been my experience that you should go with your instincts when it comes to people. If your gut is telling you it won’t work, then there’s probably a reason for that.”
“You’re probably right. I just have a hard time saying no, especially when Mary needs help. I was more at home there than my own house most of the time.”
“And he knows that.”
Something in her bristled at the fatherly tone in his voice.
“Look, the shower’s running, and I have to get going soon. Can we talk later?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, well, I hope your training goes well today.”
“Thanks.” His voice had gone cool. It sounded strange, and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
“Congratulations again. I’m glad you called to tell me.”
“Hey,” he said, this time a little warmer. “You know I didn’t mean anything by what I said about Jackson.”
“I know.”
“I just don’t want to see the guy hurt you again, that’s all.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “That’s very sweet of you, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“Whoah, whoah, whoah! Don’t ever do that again.”
“What?”
“Call me sweet. You’ll ruin my reputation.”
“Yeah, but maybe it needs ruining. It might improve.”
“Hmm, we’ll see. Talk to you later.”
Lily reached toward the back of a rose bush and cupped a spent bloom in her fingers. Its wilted, wrinkled petals were covered with black spots. She carefully traced back down the stem to find a junction of leaves, but there wasn’t much left to work with. Mary must not have even touched the rose bushes since last summer.
She did her best to find a node facing outward, and made a quick cut just above it. Then she checked the rest of the pitiful plant. There had only been one decent bloom on the whole thing, and it would fade soon. But maybe things would turn around now. With all the dead blooms gone, the plants would summon the strength to make new ones.
“Come on, girls,” she muttered. “Time to quit moping around and get busy growing.”
On the other side of the house, she heard the motor on the weed eater cut off followed by heavy footfalls loping up the front steps. She crawled around to the back of the next bush and continued working before she heard the same heavy footfalls coming down the back porch steps this time. A few seconds later, Jackson appeared on the other side of the bush with two tall glasses of tea.
“You ready for a break?” He held one out to her.
“Sure.” She crawled back out, stood up, and took the glass from his hand. “Thanks.”
He tapped his glass to hers and smiled, and then he took a long swig. Lily tipped her glass back and did the same. She sputtered and coughed.
“Did you make this?”
“Yep.”
“Holy cow. How much sugar did you put in there?”
He looked down into the bottom of his glass and shrugged.
“I don’t know. I just poured till it looked about the same as Mom puts in there. Why? Is it bad?”
“It’s like drinking tea-flavored kool-aid.” She handed the glass back to him.
He grinned and set the glasses on the bottom step of the deck.
“Sorry about that. Guess I don’t quite have Mom’s touch with the sweet tea.”
“You can say that again.” She smiled up at him before turning back to the rose bushes.
“Hey, at least I tried. It’s the effort that counts, right?”
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
He nodded toward the bushes. “Want some help?”
“I thought you were edging the sidewalk.”
“Already done.”
She sighed and looked away. She was happy to help Mary out, but even after a couple of lunches and a few decent phone conversations, being around Jackson was strained. She’d hoped to do most of her work around the flower beds alone.
“Do you even remember how to do the deadheading?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“You were always off shooting baskets. You never paid any attention to this stuff.”
“Sure I did. Just cause I didn’t like it didn’t mean I wasn’t listening. Mom would have killed me if I’d hurt one of her babies.”
Lily wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm and looked over the bushes she’d already pruned.
“They look pretty bad. How long has it been since she’s worked on them?”
Jackson fidgeted with his hands and looked away. “Not sure, really. A long time.”
“I’m not sure what I can do here. I’ve never seen them like this.”
He jerked his gaze back to hers. “Well maybe she’s had a few things on her mind lately besides some stupid flowers.”
She stood frozen in place, completely taken off guard.
“I…I didn’t mean anything.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m just worried about her.”
“She seems better.”
“She is. It’s a huge step that she’s even going through the office and packing Dad’s things up.” He pulled a pair of gloves from his back pocket and slid them over his hands. “N
ow, what can I do to help? From the looks of things, we don’t have much longer to get this done.”
As he pointed into the western sky, thunder rumbled low in the distance. What had been a beautiful day only a little while ago was quickly turning dark. Lily pointed at the bags of fresh mulch sitting beside the deck.
“I’ve only got one bush to go. Then we can spread the mulch and be done with these.”
He walked a few steps over to the mulch, grabbing a bag and throwing it over his shoulder. He carried it to the end of the bed Lily had already weeded and dumped it out. As he began spreading it, Lily searched the last bush for any decent-looking nodes that might be encouraged to branch out.
“So how was Gatlinburg this year?” he asked.
She slid her fingers beneath a branch and made a quick cut.
“We didn’t go.”
“What? No family vacation this summer?”
“No, we took a vacation, just not to Gatlinburg.”
He walked over to the mulch and grabbed another bag. “Where did you go?”
Her stomach twisted. “St. Simons Island.”
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s on the Georgia coast. Not too far south from Savannah.”
“Oh.” He crawled closer to her, spreading more mulch under the bushes. “Did you have a good time?”
“Uh, sure. It was nice. The house we rented was right on the beach.”
“You hate the beach.”
He sat back on his heels and grinned. She shrugged and focused on some weeds she’d missed.
“It was okay. Kara and Rachel kept me entertained.”
He laughed and went back to pushing mulch. “I bet they were all over that. How many adoring worshippers were trailing along behind them by the time you all left?”
“The usual I guess.”
“Any left overs for you?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
He paused, and she tried to concentrate on the branch in front of her.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
She placed the shears on the branch and focused on a steady, even voice.
“Of course not. Why do you ask?”
“Well, for one thing, you’re about to cut off a perfectly good flower.”
She jerked the shears away and stared at the beautiful red rose she was about to murder.
“Uh, thanks. Wow, how did I miss that?”
She could feel his eyes on her now, and her stomach knotted even tighter. She had to get out of there before he asked more questions, so she pushed herself up and tugged her gloves off.
“The weather looks like it’s going to get rough. Maybe we should go ahead and get everything put away.”
She walked around the flower bed picking up tools and dropping them into the metal bucket by the steps. With the clanging of each tool, the silence from Jackson grew more and more unnerving. Finally, she grabbed the bucket and headed for the shed.
She carried the bucket to the back, dropped it next to the fishing poles along with her hat and gloves, and then she turned to leave. But Jackson was standing in the door of the shed. He leaned against the frame and crossed his arms.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked.
“Nothing, I just don’t want to get caught in a storm.”
“It’s still a good hour away.”
“Well, it can take a while to get things cleaned up.”
“Really? Looks like you did it in under thirty seconds.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed her way past him. “What’s your point?”
“Did you meet someone?”
The question stopped her as if he’d lassoed her, but she couldn’t face him. She forced her feet forward until she reached the stairs, focusing on finding her keys. She was sure she’d dropped them on the last step.
“Lily?”
“What?”
She heard his footsteps coming closer. Her gaze darted across the steps and around the grass below them. What had she done with her keys?
“Why can’t you look at me?”
He was right behind her now. She settled her nerves and turned around.
“I can look at you just fine. I just need to find my keys.”
“It’s a simple question.” He brushed off his hands and tugged on his cap. “Did you meet someone?”
Her stomach was still knotting, but she was sick of all this. She’d tried to tell him they couldn’t be friends.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Well, it sounds like you had a good time.” He pulled his gloves off and tossed them through the open door of the shed.
She crossed her arms and steeled herself for the argument coming.
“I did have a good time.”
“Did he kiss you?”
Her face went hot, and she groped for any response. Nothing came.
“Well, uh…”
He shook his head. “Never mind.”
He walked over to the basketball goal at the end of the driveway. Picking up the ball lying nearby, he dribbled it against the cement then took a shot that never even hit the rim. It bounced and rolled until it finally came to rest in the grass on the other side of the pavement. He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before turning to face her.
“You remember the first time you beat me out here?” he asked.
She hesitated. Where was he going with this?
“It was the only time I ever beat you.” She recalled the look of shock then anger that had washed over his face that day. He’d just made the Varsity team as a freshman, and his ego had been ripe for the blow. “You were pissed.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but then he stopped and looked away. Thunder rumbled again, but he didn’t seem to notice. He walked over to where the ball had come to rest and picked it up, dribbling and shooting again. This time it managed to hit the backboard, but still no rim.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
He grabbed the ball again and looked over at her, angling his head.
“I learned something that day you beat me. Dad pulled me aside and chewed me out for yelling at you.”
“I never knew that.”
“Yeah, I know. You took off after I threw my temper tantrum.”
“Now that, I remember.”
“Anyway, Dad said, ‘Son, if you get lazy and take your gifts for granted, you’ll lose every time.’”
“Well, I never beat you again. You must have learned your lesson.”
He bounced the ball, spun it for a second, and then looked up at the goal.
“Apparently, I didn’t.”
This time he made the shot, and the net swished as the ball passed through. String music, his dad used to call it. He had taught them both so much more than basketball. She wished he was here now. Maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so messed up.
He picked up the ball again and continued shooting. She stepped under the basket and rebounded, passing the ball back to him each time. He moved around the perimeter of the court in a quiet rhythm, sinking each shot like he hadn’t missed a day of practice. It was a beautiful sight to see him in his element again, eyes focused on the goal. There was no trace of a limp.
“I see you haven’t lost your touch,” she said.
He drained another shot and held his hands out for the pass.
“Yeah, well, I’ve lost a few other things though.” He dropped the ball before she could ask what he meant. “Rain’s coming. I’m heading in. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
She watched him walk across the yard and jog up the steps of the back deck. He disappeared into the house without another glance back. She waited a moment before finding her keys and phone on the deck; then she walked around the house to the front.
When she reached her car, she took one last glance at the house she had practically grown up in. She’d let go of her dreams of a life with Jackson a long time ago. Maybe now he would finally see what she had known for months
. Love couldn’t conquer all.
July 23
Brunswick, Georgia
Alex pushed open the garage door and stepped into the kitchen, tossing his keys onto the empty counter beside him. He glanced down at his watch. Still a few hours before he had to be at work. He walked over to the refrigerator and stared at the plate of crumbs that had been his dinner the night before. Take out again. He grabbed the last two beers from the shelf and made a mental note to go to the grocery store tomorrow.
He went to the living room and had to spend several minutes searching for the remote inside the sofa cushions before he found it. Then he set one beer on the lighthouse coaster on the end table and popped the top of the other. He fell into the sofa and searched the channels for the Braves game. Not that he cared this year, but the sound of baseball in the house made it seem less empty.
He pulled his phone off his belt to give the Chinese restaurant a call when he noticed a text he’d obviously missed a couple of hours earlier.
Got your messages and would be happy to meet on the 9th. Your place or mine?
He grimaced and clenched his teeth as he hit reply.
Silverman’s office. 10 am sharp.
He set the phone down and sighed. Surely this nightmare would end soon. He took a long swig of his beer and stared blankly at the game. His phone vibrated, so he grabbed it and checked the number. He was relieved to see Lily’s name and the picture she’d sent him pop onto the screen.
“Hey there,” he said. He muted the television.
“Hey! Guess what?”
“What?”
“No, you have to guess.”
He sighed and pinched his nose. “I don’t like playing guessing games. Just tell me.”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine. Just a long day.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
His phone buzzed with another text.
“Okay, well, then do you want to hear my great news? Maybe it will make your day better.”
“Unless you’re going to tell me you’re standing outside my door in a bikini, I don’t think there’s much that could make it better.”
“Well, I might have the next best thing.”
He chugged another gulp of his beer. “What do you mean?”
Love's Providence: A Contemporary Christian Romance Page 12
