“Sure it’s possible. Rational? I don’t know and I don’t care. I care about us and where we’re going.”
“How do I know this isn’t a rebound, like you said?” I touched the tip of his nose. “And how do I know you’re not just taking advantage of the only woman at The Hideaway not dressed in black and ranting about Kerouac or Ginsberg?”
He didn’t laugh or even smile. “I’m not taking advantage of you. You know me well enough by now to know that.”
“That’s the thing—sometimes I feel like I don’t know you at all.”
“You do know me.” He pulled away a bit. “What else do you need to know? My life before you wasn’t that interesting, then you showed up and my world cracked open. Isn’t that enough?”
“It is—or I want it to be. But you have to understand how it feels to open the door to a world that’s entirely unknown to me. And . . .” I stopped. I didn’t want to remind him. Or me. As if either of us could forget.
“And what?”
“I’m still married. I have a husband.”
“You’re right,” he said softly, his gaze on the water. “Do you have plans to return to him?”
I shook my head.
“Then this new world—I know it makes you nervous, but isn’t it also a little exciting?” He cupped my cheek with his hand. “We can make our future anything we want it to be.” The corner of his mouth pulled up—the same half smile he offered as a life preserver the first evening I arrived at The Hideaway.
It almost made me mad—that smile that seemed to belittle my fears of linking my future to someone—and somewhere—else. But at the same time, I wanted to cling to that smile, to wrap myself around the unknown and not ask questions.
“And as for this just being a rebound for you,” he continued, “a way to get back at Robert for his lady friend, you’ll have to judge that for yourself. I don’t think it is though. I think this is . . . something else.”
I nodded and he took my hand.
“Let’s not mention Robert again. I don’t want him to be a part of this,” I said.
“Suits me just fine.”
I nestled back down beside him under the blanket. He pulled me closer and kissed me.
“I told you, you were going to fall in love with me,” he said with a grin.
I pushed him away and laughed. “What makes you think I’m in love with you?”
“You are, aren’t you?”
I was a new woman—risky and adventurous. It felt foreign and perfect at the same time.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
9
SARA
APRIL
I pulled down the long gravel driveway in front of The Hideaway and began the slow trek through the trees. When I reached the house, I parked my car under the big oak. Nerves stalled my hand on the car door handle.
My parents’ deaths and the lonely years after had left a wound deep in my heart. Although the wound had healed, it was still tender. I didn’t let myself think of their deaths often—it was too painful, like pressing on a bruise. Thankfully, my scrambling to open Bits and Pieces and make a name for myself in New Orleans occupied almost all my mental energy. Their absence was always present, but most of the time, I was able to keep it tucked under the surface of my life. I was comfortable with that. I could live with that. But here I was, back at the place where it all happened.
When I finally exited my car, I stood in the driveway holding my suitcase and picking rocks out of my open-toed sandals. I heard the crunch of gravel and turned around to see Major’s car slowing to a stop behind me. I waited by the door while the four of them climbed out.
“Go on in,” Major said. “You don’t need to wait for an invitation.”
“I still can’t believe y’all leave the doors unlocked.”
“It’s not New Orleans, honey,” Dot said, before kissing me on the cheek and walking past me into the house.
I took a deep breath before following them in.
Major pulled out my chair at the table before I sat down. Dot and Glory must have done a number on him on the ride over from Mobile. He seemed calm, but I could only imagine the rant he probably unleashed in the car. I glanced around, trying to gauge the tension level, as Bert filled our glasses with iced tea.
“We’re real glad you’re here,” Glory said to me, spooning out a serving of green beans.
I laughed a little, but her calm, delicately lined face told me she was serious. “I thought y’all might fight over who got to kick me out the door first.”
“You’re like a daughter to us,” Glory said. “Kicking you out would never cross our minds. All we can do is look to the future of the house, whatever that may be.”