Trace shook her head at Thomas, the inn’s young-gun valet. “She’s old enough to be your—”
“Older sister!” Priscilla said, laughing.
Priscilla made her way into the restaurant, more determined than ever to snag a table by the window overlooking the sea. Johnny, the bartender, winked at her as she strolled in. “You off the clock now?”
“You bet.”
He grabbed a towel and rubbed it vigorously on the restaurant’s shiny bar. “Something tells me you’re going to be a lifer around here.” His gaze lingered. “I mean that in a good way.”
“Of course.” She pointed to a seat where light from the setting sun poured in. “Mind if I grab that table by the window?”
“It’s the last one—and it’s yours.”
“Grazie,” she said, a holdover from her time in Italy. “And would you send over a spritz, please. The driest Prosecco you have, eh?”
“Sure thing, Doll.”
She strolled to the window, took her seat, and exhaled once again, tightness flowing out of the muscles of her shoulders. Jenny, a server, deposited her drink onto her table and she picked it up, holding it listlessly.
“Can I get you anything else?” Jenny asked.
She glanced at the glass of Prosecco, remembering the evening aperitivos she experienced on her adventure through Italy—lovely in-between meals and drinks.
“Yes, thank you for asking. I think I would like to have your burrata appetizer.”
“Absolutely. I’ll bring that right over.”
Priscilla took a sip of her wine and glanced out the window. An older couple moseyed over to where she had stood by herself earlier this evening. She rubbed her sore hand, thinking. Italy was beginning to seem like such a long time ago. She had run off to that glorious country, just as Meg had, to escape her problems and to find happiness again—and she’d met all kinds of precious people along the way.
And yet, why did she suddenly feel so all alone? She bit her own tongue. Enough of that nonsense. She had a new life and it was good. She took another sip of her drink.
Jenny delivered her appetizer and left her to enjoy the huge plate of burrata, tomatoes, and fresh baked bread. The presentation, the aroma ... the entire experience was like joy to the palate.
She first saw him out of the corner of her eye while savoring a fluffy bite of the cheese. He and Johnny were bantering about the Dodgers—although it was clear that he was more of an Angels fan.
Wade stood at the bar, alternating between looking at the screen behind Johnny and sneaking a peek at her. She hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks or so. In that time, she had not had a chance to drive out to the center, but she had received several calls from Amber. Though the young girl called with questions about hairstyles, Priscilla sensed a need in Amber’s voice, one that wasn’t limited to hair care.
The two men at the bar continued their discussion, their voices rising about stats and RBIs, bits of bravado pouring forth about which teams might make it to the World Series this year.
Baseball had been Leo’s thing, too, and he had always taken it personally that the state of Virginia did not have its own major league team. Personally, she was grateful because, if truth be revealed, she found it a slow and rather uninteresting sport.
She yawned and tried to refocus her attention to the oceanscape outside her window.
“Are we boring you?” Johnny called from across the bar as he stacked glasses.
Priscilla smiled over at him and playacted another yawn, covering her mouth as she did.
Johnny threw back a husky laugh, the clink of glassware in the background.
Priscilla nibbled another morsel, laughter on her tongue. Wade had yet to say anything to her. How odd. Hadn’t they spent enough time together to bypass the awkwardness and unfamiliarity that came along in relationships of the acquaintance variety?
Or maybe he thought she wanted something from him. Priscilla bit the inside of her cheek and tried to focus on the appetizer in front of her. What was this all about? she chided herself. She came here alone tonight to unwind, not because she was on the hunt for anyone. She was content, happy, even. Why in the world had Wade Prince’s sudden presence—and seemingly detached stance—given her more than a single thought? She stared out the window, seeing nothing. Chin up, girl. Chin up!
When Priscilla took another bite of burrata and bread, she caught him glancing at her. Was he waiting for an invitation? Or disappointed that he’d ducked in here only to run into her again?
Johnny had disappeared to attend to a woman who had taken a seat at the far end of the bar and the silence fell over the room like a stifling woolen blanket. Wade continued to stand at the bar, his side to her, ostensibly to watch the game.
She doubted that.
She leaned away from the window and sighed. “Are you going to join me or not?”
He pivoted. Slowly. Did she detect a deepening of color in his face? Like previously, Wade’s gaze was noncommittal. “Didn’t know I was invited.”
Priscilla clucked her tongue and settled herself back in her chair.
He took a couple of steps forward, one hand in his pants pocket. “What?”
She shrugged. “I was thinking how very high school this conversation was, and I was about to say something to that effect.”
“But?”
“But then I recalled a line from a movie, which said essentially ‘high school was never over.’”
He moved closer now, that hand of his jiggling in his pocket. Unusual. He nodded to the chair across from her. “May I?”
She gestured for him to sit. “Please.”
“You’ve been on my mind,” he said.
She lifted her gaze to his. “Have I?”
“Yes. I spoke to my sister yesterday and—” he raked a hand through his thick hair— “you were right.”
She scrutinized him. “How so?”
He sat forward, bringing her into a more intimate space. Regret clouded his eyes. “After my niece was born, my sister suffered from postpartum depression. I heard mention of it, of course, but had no idea how serious it could be.”
Empathy tugged at her heart. “Was her case severe?”
“I don’t really know. After you and I talked over coffee, I started to remember things—things I’d put out of my head.” He flicked his wrist upward, as if surrendering. “I’d been working and traveling and as far as I knew, my sister was happy. She’d finally gotten the little girl she wanted—my niece, Sadie.”
“And you figured everything was pink and perfect.”
He nodded. “Yes, I really did. But in hindsight, she was suffering. She put on a happy face mostly, but if I’d been listening, I would have known something was wrong.”
“Oh, Wade. I’ve never given birth, as you know, but I’m aware of the effect hormonal changes can make in a woman’s psyche. You can’t blame yourself for not understanding what is even difficult for us to understand.” She sighed sympathetically. “It’s likely that Gwynnie was hard-pressed at the time to explain what was going on inside of her.”
He flipped a hard look at her. “Her ex-husband saw everything she was going through.”
“And you think he took advantage?”
Wade’s eyes hardened more, the effect like black marbles. “I know he did.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He drew in a harsh breath and let it back out like the luffing of a sail. “I love my sister, you know, and I love Sadie. Very much.”
“I never doubted that.”
He tapped his finger on the table. “I’m telling you, Priscilla—that little girl can have anything she wants. Anything. All she has to do is let her request leave those pretty little lips and it’s hers.”
Priscilla laughed softly, attempting to lighten the mood. “I would not recommend that she know about that for many years.” When her laughter faded away, she said, “I’d love to meet her sometime. Does your sister come up this way often?”
“Not enough. I’ve been promising Sadie a swim in the hotel pool, though.”
Priscilla gave him a sideways, questioning glance.
He leaned forward and tapped the tip of his pointer finger on the table again, the beginnings of a grin on his face. “Hey. I have an ‘in’ with the owners of this place.”
“Well, then, you’d better make good on your promise.”
The darkness began to clear from his expression. His eyes caught with hers now and they seemed to startle, as if seeing her in a new way. Or was she imagining that?
Wade licked his lips and Priscilla felt heat rising in her cheeks. Her lungs stilled, as if she couldn’t quite get the breath she needed. She wanted to look away, and yet, wouldn’t doing so draw attention to her response to him?
“I’ve made this all about me,” he said simply.
“You had something heavy on your heart. No need to apologize for that.”
His gaze did not waver. “Tell me more about you.”
Again, her lungs constricted. She couldn’t breathe. What did he want to know? What did she care to say? She blinked and darted a glance out the window. The sun had set, leaving behind a fuchsia sky.
“Priscilla?”
She turned back to face him. “What would you like to know?”
“I’d like to know how you are doing?”
“How I am doing ... what exactly do you mean?”
Wade leaned back, his shoulders lowering, as if relaxing. He continued to zero in on her, though, and it unnerved her, though she wasn’t sure why. “You told me recently that your husband left you. Tell me about that.”
She frowned. “There isn’t more to tell. Truly.”
“I apologize if it sounds like I am prying. But that had to be difficult. You listened to me, now I want to know how you are really doing.”
First her eyelids began to blink. Almost as if on their own volition. A trickle of emotion began to work its way through her chest and up her neck, until reaching a floodgate that threatened to open. She blinked away the flood and cleared her throat, swallowing. “I’m—I’m doing quite well. Like I said, I am in a new place, with new friends—”
“And yet I find you here, having dinner alone.”
She snapped a look at him. “I could say the same of you.”
He nodded once, his lips pressed together lightly.
They sat in silence, staring at each other. Finally, she said, “Okay.” Even though she started to speak, she found herself looking away, off into the sea’s distance. When she swung her gaze back to Wade, the words nearly barreled out of her. “There were some in my circle of friends, my church, specifically, who questioned the divorce.” She hadn’t told that to anyone before.
He cocked his head to the side, as if assessing her. “You mean, whether you should have gone through with it?”
Those tears that always threatened to make their entrance when she thought about this element from her past did not change course now. She worked to hold them back.
“And that bothers you.”
She nodded. “I love God. Very much. But sometimes his people, well, his people’s words have the ability to sever the heart. Do you know what I mean?”
“I believe I do, but why don’t you tell me.”
She inhaled deeply. “There are some that said I should never marry again, that it would be against God’s law, since I was married in the church. Not that I’m looking for a husband at the moment.” She shrugged, failing to avoid eye contact with him. “Still, it wasn’t something I thought I would hear from ... friends. Nor do I think their interpretation of the Bible—of God’s opinion—was correct.”
He gave her a smile that was one part awkward and ten parts kind, but said nothing.
She continued. “I’ve found that sometimes the people who should be there to help you through make healing the most difficult.”
Shoving manners aside, Wade put his elbow on the table and leaned his face into his hand, thoughtfully. He held her eyes with his own. “So,” he said, “you spent your time with Pharisees.”
A grin broke across her face, though the fortress of tears behind her eyes had not waned. She didn’t care to call anyone from her past names, and yet, by his words, she knew he understood.
He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry they hurt you.”
She attempted to shake off his sympathies. “I’m fine. Truly. You-you just asked how I was doing and I, well, I had a moment of honesty.” She laughed, albeit nervously now.
He continued to caress her hand with his, which, she noted in her haze of emotion, sent all kinds of electrical forces through her body. Unlike earlier, her skin felt no pain at all. She licked her lips, forced a bright smile on her face, and put off all thoughts of the past.
Then she leaned forward, turned her hand upward ever so slightly and looped her fingers around his.
Chapter 7
Priscilla stood in front of her floor-length mirror, scrutinizing the mesh cover-up she wore over her emerald green swimsuit. Because of her red hair and light skin, she’d always been told green was her color. But she had never bought into the cliché. Though she tried. She leaned her head to one side, gazing into that mirror, feeling more like a teenager than a forty-something woman.
She gasped, remembering that a certain teen had texted her an hour ago. Priscilla rifled through her tropical bag, stashed on her bed, and found her phone.
* * *
Amber: Can I come to the inn?
Priscilla: I will make it happen.
* * *
Priscilla glanced up, hoping the young girl wouldn’t insist on naming a date just yet. First, she’d have to check her work schedule, and then she would have to call Candace to find out how to go about planning a field trip for a foster child. She would likely need to touch base with the girl’s foster family—
* * *
Amber: My foster mom says I can go on Monday. Pick me up?
Amber again: Ok with you? Please?
* * *
So much for careful planning. She’d check with the various authority figures anyway, but from the looks of things, there would be no problem. Priscilla logged into the app that held her work schedule. The app had been a recommendation Wade had made to Jackson to help alleviate frantic calls from employees who forgot to take their schedules home with them. As she expected, she was not scheduled on Monday. She opened iMessage on her phone.
* * *
Priscilla: I’ll pick you up at 10 am. Bring a swimsuit.
* * *
Minutes later Priscilla strolled toward Meg and Jackson’s condo on the far end of the complex. They lived near each other, but the community was so large, and both Jackson and Meg worked so much, that she rarely bumped into them when home.
The soft clip of her heeled flip-flops resounded in her ears, anticipation rising. Meg had thrown together this little pool soiree on the fly, because that’s what she did. No matter that she booked events for the inn—for a living. She still found the time, and the energy, to whip up a gathering of friends.
Priscilla’s heart swelled at the thought that she was counted among them. God’s providence. That’s what she’d always thought about her “chance” meeting with Meg, which eventually led her to this place, to this new life. She picked up the pace, anxious to be among friends. And if she were completely honest, she couldn’t wait to see ... him.
Wade had been invited too, and he had asked to bring Sadie along so that her momma could have a spa day. How sweet was that? And even before he had known that Priscilla was among the invitees, he asked her to join them.
“May we pick you up?” he had asked.
She should have said yes. In fact, with each step, she questioned why she hadn’t. Instead, she had said, “How about I meet you there?”
“Whatever you’d like.” Wade’s voice came through warm, a hint of a smile in it.
She reached Meg and Jackson’s home, raised knuckles to knock, but the door swung open before sh
e could. “Priscilla!” Liddy stood with a kiddo on her hip, her smile robust. She pulled Priscilla into a tight hug, squashing the child between them. When she let her go, she said, “Come in, come in. Meg’s made some fabulous Sangria—I’m no longer nursing so I can join you in having a glass!”
As if on cue, Jackson showed up in the entryway with two glasses of red Sangria, orange slices floating on top. “Cheers, ladies.” He handed them each a glass. “They’re plastic, so you can take them out to the pool with you.”
Liddy giggled and leaned sideways toward Priscilla. “Even at home he takes risk management seriously.”
Meg dashed from the kitchen and planted a kiss on Priscilla’s cheek. “So glad you’re here! You should see the cake Chef sent over for us.” She looked toward the heavens for a second, a serene smile on her face. “It’s going to be sublime. You’ll see.”
Liddy cut in. “Get this: It’s a rum-and-espresso-infused ladyfingers chocolate mousse cake. How can that even be legal?”
“I can’t wait,” Priscilla said, flush with anticipation.
A male voice interrupted their banter. “You mean, you can’t wait to see us?”
At Wade’s voice, all three women turned. The little girl in his arms had buried her nose and eyes in his neck, her brown ringlets covering most of her face.
“This is Sadie,” he said, pride evident.
Meg dashed over and gave them both a squeeze, then kissed Sadie on the cheek with a loud “mwah.”
“Aw, hi Sweetie,” Liddy said, reaching out to rub the girl’s arm, her voice coaxing.
Sadie lifted her head slightly and peered at Liddy.
“I’m taking Beau Jr. out to the pool,” Liddy said. “Can you help me find it?”
Like magic, Sadie jerked away from Wade’s neck. He put her down and she grabbed onto Liddy’s hand. Liddy turned and winked at Priscilla as she and Beau Jr. led little Sadie out the slider door toward the gated pool area.
Wade reached for Priscilla’s hand. “Hi.”
Beneath a Billion Stars Page 7
