“Lorelai. What are you doing here?” Jade scanned the porch and yard for Gus and Landon. The blustery Tuesday morning threatened a cold rain.
“I’m alone, Jade.”
“What do you want?” Jade blocked her view into the house, pulling the door against her.
“I, um . . .” She held her gaze down. “I’d like to see him, Jade.”
“I’m not sure I can let you. There is still a restraining order against you and Gus. Pending lawsuits.”
“I won’t make trouble, Jade. You have my word.” She raised her chin, displaying every bit of her Whisper Hollow aristocrat heritage, and the stubborn pride chiseled in her cheeks. But a bit of humility had replaced her smug look from last night.
Jade hesitated. Lorelai remained steadfast, the hem of her sage green skirt pressed to her knees by the chilled breezed. Jade stepped back, drawing the door wide.
“Asa, look who’s here. Grandma Lorelai.” Jade grabbed her arm as she crossed the threshold. “If this bites me, so help me, Lorelai—”
A mist coated her gray eyes. “There’ll be no more trouble.”
Jade fixed Asa’s breakfast as Lorelai chatted with him, asking about his cars.
He babbled away, a string of vowels and syllables that for the moment only made sense to him. He recognized Lorelai. Jade knew it. Of course, she and Gus were very much a part of his first eighteen months of life.
“He’s growing so fast, Jade.”
“He’s in 4Ts already.” Jade set Asa’s eggs in front of him. Then a cup of coffee for Lorelai and the last cinnamon scone. “He looks like Rice, doesn’t he?” she said, brushing aside his thick hair and taking the seat next to him.
Asa lost half of his first bite of eggs to his lap. He frowned, looking down, then retrieved the yellow piece and stuffed it in his mouth. He cracked her up.
“He does. Better than looking like that scoundrel.” Lorelai covered her quivering lips with her slender, manicured hand. A sob ricocheted in her chest. “What was she thinking, Jade? That girl . . . she was so smart and intelligent, and beautiful. One of the ones who had it all. Gus and I made sure . . . we made sure.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Lorelai. Rice was a grown woman.”
“Do you hate her, Jade?” The glossy sheen in Lorelai’s eyes thickened. “I don’t think I could bear it if you hated her.”
Jade watched Asa for a moment, bonding with Lorelai’s mother’s heart.
“No, I don’t hate her. I wanted to, but it’s hard to hold a vendetta against a dead woman. Besides, I’m not one to point fingers. I’ve made a few regretful decisions. I mostly felt betrayed by my husband. We’ve been through a lot in our three years of marriage and Lorelai”—Jade peered at her—“there’s no room for hate.”
“We miss her so much,” she said, quivering, struggling to hold herself together.
“I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”
“When Landon called us, we thought for a moment, we’d get our girl back. He’d sue for custody, then give Asa to us. Gus had him all talked into it when he found out Benson had deep pockets. A million dollars . . . he’s a fool. What was Rice thinking, going to bed with that man. My stars, you’d think she was raised in the hills by wolves. I taught her, Jade, to be discerning.”
“My own mama died in the spring, Lorelai. I can’t know what it feels like to lose a grown child, but I have lost four babies to abortion and miscarriage. I am far too acquainted with grief.” And the child she loved now was not her own.
“A woman lives her whole life dreaming and hoping for her children. Rice was to marry well and have gorgeous, smart children. We’d have family vacations, celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. We’d be best of friends with the in-laws.” She pulled a tissue from her purse. “When she was engaged to Max all the dreams were coming true. Then she found out he was addicted and bolted to Washington, D.C., so fast, it left us all spinning.”
“Sounds to me like the pills were an excuse, Lorelai.”
“I don’t know, maybe you’re right. She did tell me I could be a bit smothering. Trying to make her live life for me.” She smoothed her hand over Asa’s arm. “I was more prepared to be a widow than childless this stage in my life. Gus and I decided when one of us died the other would move to California to be with Rice. At least part of the year. We were looking into town houses when she died . . . in that stupid, stupid plane.” Lorelai smacked the table with each “stupid.” Asa jolted, eyes wide. “The mechanic told her it might not be safe, but Rice . . . never a fear.”
“It’s what made Rice . . . Rice.” Jade smiled tentatively at Lorelai. Did she understand it was uncomfortable to talk so casually about Rice? No, probably not. Rice was her daughter, and right now she saw only through the narrow eyes of grief.
Jade preferred to never speak of Rice again. But since she lived on in Asa, Rice McClure would always be a part of their lives.
“Foolishness is not the same as fearlessness.”
“More, Mama. More.” Asa raised his juice cup, dropping it on the table.
Jade scooted away from the table.
“He’s all we have of her, Jade.”
“I know.” Jade filled the cup with juice, cutting it with water. “But you have to stop throwing punches, Lorelai.”
“We’d decided to accept things until Landon came around.” Tear chased tear down her cheek, carving a wide trace in her makeup. “We miss her so much. We used to talk every day. Then I saw her one morning, said good-bye, and she never came home. Gone so suddenly. Then Max banned us from Asa and . . .”
Her words . . . her tears . . . watered the dry soil of Jade’s heart. The places where she’d patted over her own sorrows. She brushed the dampness from under her eyes. “I’ll talk to Max, Lorelai.”
“Jade, I promise.” She regained her composure. “We’ll not do anything like this again. We can’t raise a two-year-old. We’re seventy. Gus’s diabetes is giving him problems and we long ago lost the energy to chase after a toddler. But we’d love to help you and Max.”
“You are his grandparents.” Jade smiled. “And my parents are out of the picture. I don’t speak to my dad, and Mama died in March. I think it’d be lovely if you were in his life. In our lives.”
Lorelai squared back, tugging on the hem of her suit jacket, straightening her composure. “I declare I’ve cried more tears this year than in my whole life.”
“It’s been a year for tears.” And joy. “I was arranging with my brother and sister to spend Christmas together. I’d love it if you and Gus joined us.
Wherever we are. Here or in Whisper Hollow. Depending on what Max and the lawyers say—”
“There will be no need for lawyers. I guarantee it. This ends now.” Lorelai pressed her hand to her chest. “We’ll be there for Christmas. If it’s here or there or in Timbuktu. We’ll be there.” Her words faded, choked and thin. “Thank you.”
Jade reached across the table and squeezed her hand. And for a long while, that was all the talking they needed to do.
“Do it, Rick. Just go in there and drop the pills in his desk.”
“Where did you get these?” Rick pinched the bag between his thumb and forefinger.
“Doc Dooley.” Long time Warrior booster, friend of Bobby’s.
“Why am I doing this?” Rick’s furrowed brow and quizzical gaze grated on Bobby’s last nerve.
“Insurance. They’ll help us with Benson.”
“Forget it.” Rick tossed the baggie to the desk. “I agreed to help you find a way to the head coaching job, but I’m not planting drugs to frame Max.”
“You owe me.” Bobby prowled toward him. He could almost taste the job, the sidelines, the cheers, the glare of the lights. No way was he spending one more year in this claustrophobic athletic director’s office. He’d signed his last girls’ softball and volleyball rec form. He was a football man. The only sport that mattered. Football and the Molnar legacy.
“I don’t owe you anything worth this. You want to out me for my part in sabotaging the coaches for you, go ahead. But you’ll go down with me.”
Bobby glared at Rick.
“You’re right.” He tossed the pills into his trash can. “I just get riled up at times. I’m sorry, Rick. I’ve tested our friendship and overstepped propriety.”
“Wise decision, Bob.” Rick started for the door, then backed up and took the pills from the can. “Let this season play itself out. Wait and see what happens.” Bobby followed his broad back as he went into the bathroom off his office. “Benson has a law career in Tennessee. Fifty bucks he’ll go back on his own at the end of the season.”
“I’ll take that bet. Steaks at the Stampede.” Bobby winced when the toilet flushed.
Rick came out holding up the empty baggie. “I’m in.”
Rick left and Bobby dropped to his desk chair. Rick was a good friend. An idiot, but a good friend.