One Lavender Ribbon

Sara and Pops stayed inseparable for the next few weekends. The older couple’s activities usually included Will and Adrienne, though occasionally Adrienne would decline, saying she couldn’t leave the house project at hand. The problem was, when she did that, Will missed her. Badly. Even though they were meeting regularly throughout the week to plan the birthday party for Pops, he missed seeing her on the weekends.

The party was only five weeks away now. But it was growing more and more difficult to keep everything hidden from Pops. “Maybe we should have the party at my house.” Standing up from her back deck, Adrienne swept her arm across her forehead. The hot Florida sun was unmerciful as they worked together to build a stand for the kayak.

“It would keep us from having to move this thing.” She kicked the leg of the stand that would hold the Polynesian food.

Will stood, using Adrienne as an anchor to pull his weight up from the seated position he’d been in. He turned her to him while she attempted to keep the hair off her face. Tiny droplets of sweat glistened across her brow. She was beautiful in her cutoff jeans, paint-splattered T-shirt, and work boots. A utility belt hung low on her hips, drawing attention to the hourglass curves below her waist. “It would be easier—everything is already here.”

She nodded. “I think it would be perfect. We can set things up on the back deck but maybe trail lights out onto the beach. We can put some extra beach chairs around.” She threw out an exasperated breath when the wind tossed her hair back into her face.

Will reached up and smoothed the strays. He licked his lips and leaned in for a kiss.

“Will, come on.” She deflected him. “I’m gross.”

One brow arched as he looked her up and down. “Though many words might describe you, gross is not one of them. Let’s go for a swim.” He motioned to the beach and clamped a hand in her nail gun pouch.

She shook her head. “We have too much work to do.”

He slipped the buckle open and dropped her utility belt on the deck behind him. “I know. But you need to try out the mask and snorkel I bought you.” He’d purchased it last week at the dive shop.

Her face lit up. “You did?”

Ahhh. There it was—all those specks in her eyes sparkling with fresh excitement. This time he captured her mouth in a kiss. “That’s not all. I got you a brochure about learning how to scuba dive.” His hands landed on those fine hips where the tool belt had been.

“What?” She blinked up at him, the mix of excitement and surprise an intoxicating brew.

“At the dive shop, Ky, the owner, asked if I’d be interested in volunteering to help instruct at Kalanu Camp.” He couldn’t resist the urge to pull her body a little closer as he spoke. She came willingly.

“I’ve heard of that. It’s a camp for troubled kids, right?”

“Yep. The course is run through the college, and lots of students who are certified divers volunteer, but when he asked, I just jumped right in.”

One eye closed partially. “How spontaneous of you.”

The growl again, and he tipped closer to her. “Yes, it was. And now you owe me.”

She flattened her hands against his chest. “What?”

He leaned until his forehead rested against hers. “All this spontaneity . . . I blame you.”

Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and ran over her lips. “It looks good on you. You should do it more often.” Her voice had dipped dangerously low.

“Okay.” With a smooth motion, he swept her into his arms and headed toward the ocean while she laughed, kicked, and pleaded.

“Will! Put me down! We don’t have time for this.” With half-hearted effort, she beat her fists against his chest, but gave up when he took the first steps into the water. “At least let me go get a swimsuit on.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll get mine from the car.”

She stared up at the hot sun. “Just a quick swim, all right?”

She was back on the beach before he was, and glanced down at her suit, making sure everything was covered. Adrienne waded out into the water and dove under, hair trailing behind her. Saltwater felt different from freshwater. It felt different from a swimming pool. It had more substance, and the buoyancy it gave her created the sensation of flying. Before moving here, it had been years since she’d been in the ocean, and she wasn’t really sure how well she’d like it. But after diving in the very first time, she was reacquainted with an old friend. She swam around, letting tiny tropical fish gather around her legs. She watched them dart about in the clear blue-green water, silvery casings catching the sun. With childlike whimsy, she tried to catch one, and another. It was a futile attempt. They would zip away from her, then return after only moments as if mocking her inability to snag even the tiniest of fish.

She stood in water up to her chest, when a wave washed over her. The water rose to her throat. Her shoulders stayed exposed, the sun warming them and drying the little droplets across her shoulders.


“You know how to work one of these?”

The voice came from behind her. She spun and Will moved out to her in the surf. Two scuba masks with snorkels attached were slung over his right forearm.

“How hard can it be?” she asked, trying not to notice how the water rippled up on his exposed body. She watched the lean muscles and enjoyed the sensation it caused within her. A wave rushed up on him, leaving tiny rivulets to trail down over a tanned chest and lines of clear-cut stomach muscles.

He handed her a mask, and she tried to put it on without jabbing herself in the eyes with the dangling snorkel.

“Ouch.” She winced as the rubber mask strap tangled into her hair.

He reached up and released her from the trap.

She relented. “Okay, so maybe it’s a little harder than it looks.”

“Here,” he said softly, moving just close enough to help balance her in the surf. His face was near hers, his breath fanning against her throat and chest. She was thankful for the waves that washed away the sensation, but right on its heels was another puff of air. “Let’s make sure this fits you.” He folded the strap backward and placed the mask to her face. “Can you hold it on with no strap?”

She shrugged.

“Breathe in through your nose just a little. If the mask fits right, it will make just enough suction to hold it in place.”

She followed his instructions, and surprisingly the mask stayed put when he removed his hand.

“Now, do what I do.” He demonstrated the proper way to put the mask on without ripping out half a head of hair. He positioned the snorkel in his mouth. “Got it?”

She nodded, snorkel end bobbing above her.

“When a wave comes over us,” he said, removing his mouthpiece, “the water from it is going to rush into the end of the snorkel.” He laughed when her eyes widened in fear. “Don’t worry.”

But the panic caused her to spit out the mouthpiece and even stand a little higher.

“Seriously. It’s nothing to worry about.”

She cocked a brow in answer.

“I get it. This is a beginner class. Okay, close your eyes.” He moved closer to her, his arms gently circling her midsection.

She instinctively tensed.

“Relax,” he whispered against her. “I’m trying to show you something.”

I just bet. Against her better judgment, she allowed the tension to drain from her muscles as they swayed, the water moving their bodies together. The ocean had its own rhythm, and as her breathing slowed, she became a part of that rhythm. She was aware when a wave was coming, and she realized her body reacted as if she and the water were one. Wow. She finally had her sea legs. They’d evaded her on the boat.

His words were a whisper, barely audible over the rush of air and water moving around them. “See, you’ll know when a wave is coming.” His hands and arms were warm where they touched her skin. “Breathe in before the wave reaches you. If water gets into your snorkel, you just breathe out quickly and it will shoot the water back out.”

With her eyes still closed, she nodded. She could feel his hands tightening, drawing her straight down, deeper into the water. Once her mask was under, she opened her eyes, scarcely believing this was the same world she’d watched from the surface. A rush of cool water enveloped her head, introducing her to the silence and beauty of the world beneath.

They swam around for a time, Will pointing out one type of fish, then another. A few times, the water washed up over the snorkel, but like a pro she followed his instructions and shot it right back out.

She studied a small fish circling around her knees. Will gestured to her and opened his fingers to reveal a clam shell. He motioned for her to come up out of the water. With the snorkel finally out of her mouth, Adrienne popped up above the surface, a string of exclamations tumbling from her salty lips. “Did you see that fish? It was as big as my hand.” She continued on, describing the surroundings beneath them as if he hadn’t been there.

He laughed. “I know.” He held the clam shell out to her.

She took it, examined it, tried to separate the two pieces. “It’s connected.”

“Yeah.” He slid it from her hand. “Come on, I want to show you something cool.”

Still a little breathless, she slipped the mask back on and followed him under the water.

With one hand, he pried open the shell. As if on cue, a cloud of fish instantly swarmed around the small shell, extracting its contents. Her gaze shot to Will in amazement. After the feeding frenzy, many of the fish remained and seemed as curious about her as she was about them. They swam toward the mask, looked into her eyes, then swam away. She’d never seen such a concentration of brightly colored slippery bodies. Slowly, Will held out another shell.

With his free hand he reached for hers, then dropped the shell into her palm. He kept a firm grasp on her wrist so she wouldn’t drop the meal as feathery fish tickled across her skin. They bumped or nudged her hand. She tried to withdraw, but he held her steadfast. Soon, she had grown accustomed to the feel of live fish bumping and jostling about as they aggressively devoured the contents of the mollusk.

An hour later, she and Will sat on her back steps, wrapped in big beach towels. The sun was getting ready to set on the horizon, and its movement sparked a shower of vibrant colors. The powdery blue sky turned to deep purple, dark pink, and finally orangey-yellow, a heavenly fireworks display for their benefit.

Will stood and lit the torches on her deck. He sat back down beside her. “Are you cold?” he whispered against her ear.

She snuggled toward him. “No, I’m very warm.”

“Listen, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for us.”

She looked over, giving him her full attention. “What do you mean?” The setting sun was beautiful, but so was Will.

He shrugged. “I can’t explain it, but you’ve made my relationship with Pops even better.” His face left hers, and he focused on the water. “Also, you forced me to take a hard look at myself, and I didn’t really like what I saw.”

She watched him. Will Bryant was growing and changing right before her eyes. “Will, can we talk about your parents?”

Slam, slam, slam, slam. Four walls came up. But she’d spent enough time resisting the urge to dive into this conversation. Those walls wouldn’t deter her.

“Look, I know you struggle with their decision to stay in Africa. I just want to understand.”

He stared at the darkening water. “Do you remember your senior year of high school?”

“Sure,” she said. “Everybody does. It’s your last year of being a kid. Everything that happens, good or bad, is golden because you know it’s the last time you’ll experience it.”

“You know what I remember about my senior year?” He didn’t give her time to answer. “I remember my mom and dad selling eighty percent of our furniture. I remember them celebrating when they got their passports. I remember them spending countless hours a day learning some obscure language for people they didn’t even know.”

“You feel like your parents’ going to work overseas was more important to them than your senior year?” A cold breeze snuck up the side of her legs, and she pulled the towel closer.

He faced her. “I think that for an entire year I was brutally reminded that if it wasn’t for me, they would have left long ago. It was like a yearlong celebration that I would finally be out of their way.”


“Are you sure that’s how they felt? Have they said that?”

“Some things are louder when they’re not said.”

“And some things are bitterly misunderstood when they’re not said.” So many things she should have said to Eric early on in their marriage. Maybe it would have kept him from becoming such a tyrant.

“I know that,” he conceded. “But you can’t really have a heart-to-heart on a crackling satellite phone from five thousand miles away.”

Will pivoted so he could lean forward, elbows resting on his thighs. “I have wanted to ask my dad why. My parents aren’t cruel people by nature. I know they love me. But their actions . . . ”

Adrienne nodded and reached around him. Her gaze followed his to the dark water, the glow of the moon melding with the torches and creating fire sparks of illumination. Surprising herself, she put her hands on Will’s face and turned him to look at her. So much pain in those green eyes. She started to lean forward to kiss him but stopped. Again, the eyes. She wanted to ease that pain. Be the answer. Be his answer. Letting the beach towel fall away, she pushed her lips against his. Their faces came together in a sweet, tender movement. Warm, strong hands slid over her back to cradle her against him.

She was crushed inside his capable hold, feeling safer than she’d ever felt before, unconcerned about her salt-sticky body or the mess that was her hair. Because Will . . . well, Will made everything better. She didn’t have to care about her appearance, and that was liberating.

Her hands slid upward slowly, tangling into his hair. She was slipping, spiraling down an oiled slide into a vat of rich sweetness. And she was almost there, almost lost when he broke the kiss.

Hungry green eyes captured her as she dragged her lids open. He brushed his thumb across her mouth, but the spell was broken. Such a gentleman. Just like his grandfather.

Will pulled a deep breath and exhaled a shaky one. “You are the most captivatingly beautiful woman I’ve ever dated.”

Trying to calm the tribal drum that had replaced her heartbeat, she opted for humor. If she gave herself to anything else, they’d end up . . . well, they’d end up doing something she wasn’t sure she was ready for. “Who says I’m dating you?”

“You better be or this is completely scandalous.” His fingertips played with the end of her wind-dried hair.

“I haven’t had enough scandal in my life.”

“Nor have I,” he said in a playful tone. “Let’s see how much trouble we can cause together.”

His hands fell to her hips where one tug pulled her closer. Her bottom scooted across the deck, and a throaty giggle escaped her mouth. She pressed her hands against his chest, eyes widening. “Okay, maybe I’m not cut out for scandal.”

He nuzzled against her neck, lips finding the hollow below her jaw. “I could help ruin you,” he growled, hot breath scorching her skin. And oh, she so believed it. “Or, of course, there is the alternative.”

“Okay, okay. I’m dating you.” She pointed an index finger at him. “But only to avoid scandal.”

He sank his hands into her hair.

There was an intensity about this man that drove her nuts. She was about to move out of its trajectory, put some space between them, but instead she found herself moving toward his mouth again. He seemed lost somewhere in his scrutiny of her hair and how it slid from her shoulders. But he caught her moving in. All his attention focused on her mouth until it pressed firmly to his. The kiss deepened, her fingers grazing the planes of his cheeks.

She broke the kiss quickly. It wasn’t like her to be the aggressor. It wasn’t like her at all. But something about him made her feel safe, like she could take the risk. Like she had to take the risk. He made her feel strong. Powerful. And power was a beautiful thing . . . when it wasn’t misused.

“Don’t do that,” he whispered.

“What?” she managed, her own voice sounding foreign.

“Don’t feel embarrassed about kissing me.”

Was she really that easy to read? After all, this wasn’t their first kiss. But this time, she’d surprised herself. “I’m not, I just . . . ”

“Adrienne.” He stood and pulled her up to meet him. “Can I admit something to you?”

“Anything.” Blood surged into her stiff limbs, and she realized how long they’d been sitting on the deck.

“I’m scared.”

She frowned—it seemed so out of place, this admission from this man. Out of place and raw.

“I’m scared of how I’m beginning to feel about you.” His hands slid up and down her arms.

“I won’t hurt you, Will.” That much was true. She’d never hurt anyone intentionally, do to him what Eric had done to her.

“No, I’m not scared for me. I’m scared for you.” He shook his head. “I know it doesn’t make sense but I . . . I want you. Maybe more than I’ve ever wanted anything. The trouble is, I’m a really driven man. And I’m worried I’ll get too selfish and not put your best interest before my own. You’ve gotten under my skin and in my blood.”

Was he actually saying he was afraid he cared about her too much? This wasn’t really a bad problem to have, unless . . . No. She stopped that train of thought.

Will read her silence and stepped away. Hands on the deck rail, he stared out at the water.

The light of a torch danced across his features. Adrienne tried to continue to gauge the words. He was actually saying he cared so much for her that his own selfishness could get in the way. If that confession was meant to make her turn and run, it did the opposite. His admission meant a desire to control it. So he had a natural bend toward selfishness. Big deal. He knew it, and better yet, he wanted to change it.

Adrienne stepped to him, fingertips grazing first over his back, then his arms. On her tiptoes, she glanced over his shoulder toward the dark water. Seeing nothing out there, she laid her head against his back and listened to him breathe.





I’m not too sure about the sushi,” Pops said, looking down at the accumulation of odd and unusual ingredients for the sushi rolls Adrienne was preparing. “But that chicken smells divine.”

“The sushi is just to nibble on. Will said you’d never tried it.”

It was a Tuesday night, and she’d invited Will and Pops over for an Asian-infused gourmet dinner. Sara was back in Winter Garden, though her weekends in Bonita Springs were getting longer and longer.

Pops used a chopstick to lift the edge of a piece of sushi. Adrienne had taken a class at a chef school when she lived in Chicago. Weeknights without Sara seemed dull and boring, so she’d planned the sushi gathering, wanting to try out her culinary skills on someone who would appreciate her effort. The two Bryant men were the perfect victims.

At one time during her marriage, Adrienne had wanted to attend culinary school. Eric had laughed at her. His words still stung. Culinary school? Why? So you can make gourmet meals for the cat? Please, Adrienne, be serious. The last thing in the world I want is a fry cook as a wife. If Adrienne were a fry cook, she’d be proud of it. She thought of Leo and what a service he’d offered by feeding families all these years. It was a noble profession. As were so many Eric had always made fun of. How had she ever fallen in love with him?

Pops, still skeptical, used his finger to poke the seaweed. “There’s a reason I’ve never tried it. Doesn’t raw fish carry salmonella?”


“These are California rolls.” She grinned over at him, placing a delicate mound of wasabi by the now completed roll. “No fish,” she added when his quizzical look didn’t change.

“That’s good. Where I come from, raw fish has a different name.”

Wiping her hands on her apron. “What name?”

“We call it bait.”

“Funny, Pops.”

He pointed to the green pyramid. “That’s guacamole?”

“No, wasabi. It’s very hot Japanese horseradish.”

“I thought you’d jumped to a different continent.” Pops really did seem younger than when she’d first met him. Ah, what love could do. Her back patio was lit with torches, and their light flashed now and then into the kitchen window, catching her attention. Soft music floated from the living room, completing the atmosphere. The scent of roasting chicken and fresh rosemary filled the house.

Adrienne checked the contents of the oven, lifting the tinfoil and peeking beneath; then she attacked the refrigerator.

Will stepped behind her. “What are you looking for?”

“Soy sauce.” She rummaged through the doors like a raccoon. “I must be out.”

“I’ll go get some,” Will said, reaching for his car keys. “Want to ride along, Pops?”

The older man shot a glance over to Adrienne, still tucked in the fridge. She was mumbling about mustard, mayo, minced garlic.

“No,” Pops said, “I’ll just stay here.”

Once Will was gone, Pops and Adrienne moved out to the back deck to wait for the chicken to finish cooking.

“Adrienne, I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you.” A sailboat moved silently along the horizon and looked like it could drop off the edge of the world if it veered in the wrong direction.

She turned toward him. “What is it, Pops?”

“I’ve never really gotten the chance to thank you for all you’ve done for me.” He added, “For us.”

“I feel like I’m the one who has benefited from all that’s happened.” She leaned toward him. “I gained a wonderful set of friends.”

“Well, we’re all pretty fond of you.” His gaze narrowed. “Especially Will.”

“Pops, can I ask you something?”

He nodded.

“What happened between Will and his parents?”

The older man shrugged and shook his head, sadness entering his blue eyes. “Nothing happened. That’s what’s so frustrating about it. Will is an incredible young man. Will’s parents are wonderful. Somewhere along the way, things just got strained.”

“Would you tell me about them?”

He smiled. “Charles and Peg are ordinary people making an extraordinary difference. You know they’re in Senegal?”

She nodded.

“Well, the area where they work used to have a child mortality rate of seventy percent.”

She straightened. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “No fresh water. Between that and disease, the children didn’t stand a chance.” He let this sink in before he continued. “They began setting up medical teams first, sending over doctors, nurses, and medical personnel.”

“They sound like amazing people. I hope I get to meet them someday.”

“I’m sure you will.” He thought for a moment. “They were supposed to be coming home in about a month, but won’t be able to. There’s a lot of unrest in the country right now, but . . . ” He rubbed his chin. “I don’t think that’s why they cancelled.”

“Why, then?”

“I don’t know. I just know I’m distressed by it because I thought it would be a great opportunity for Will and Charles to sit down and talk.”

Adrienne reached over and squeezed his hand. “Well, miracles can happen,” she said, trying to lift the older man’s spirits. “How can I learn more about them?”

“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.