One Lavender Ribbon

Even though there was an agonizing amount of tension between Will and Adrienne, the party came off without a hitch. Pops had been overwhelmed by the group that included his only son and daughter-in-law. Father and son came together in a warm embrace as Pops took Charles’s face in his hands as if his son were an apparition. Once convinced, Pops hugged him again, reaching also for Peg, the daughter-in-law he loved so dearly. There was such excitement in the room, no one noticed the hurtful looks that passed between the two who had made it all possible. She steered clear of him, and he returned the favor.

The house and backyard were decorated in Polynesian style to perfection, complete with music and torches that lined a golden path to the ocean. By all standards, it was over the top. No detail had been overlooked. Will, staring at the tiny umbrella topping his fruity frozen drink, wished he could have enjoyed it. His gaze was fixed on the ocean, calm with small, rolling waves that tossed water and sand onto the shoreline. Yes, he’d like to be enjoying the party. Instead, he slipped outside to take a walk. Stepping off the back deck, he threw a glance at the house where Adrienne and family, his family, were sitting together laughing and talking. He was furious at her, of course. But, sadly he had to admit, he was pretty furious at himself as well. He thought back to the look in her eye as he’d told her she shouldn’t interfere. First, her anger had met his. But after that, there came a point when she seemed completely dead to his words. A veil fell over her face that took all emotion with it. He couldn’t even remember what he’d said that had spawned her reaction. But that look was unmistakable. It was complete resolve. Utter detachment.

And it terrified him. In the time since he’d known her, Adrienne had become a driving force in his life, a force he enjoyed and wanted to maintain. But the woman had to learn to mind her own business. It was a trust issue. He didn’t easily give his trust. And he certainly didn’t extend it to those who trampled it.


Pops’s voice drifted from the back patio. “Will?”

He turned, took one look at the smile on Pops’s face, and fought the urge to forgive Adrienne. With a hand pressed to his knee, Pops descended the stairs and stepped out to his grandson. “Beautiful day.”

Will nodded. “You look good, Pops.”

“Having Charles and Peg here was a wonderful surprise.” Pops bent at the waist and found a shell of respectable size. He lobbed it into the water.

“All Adrienne’s doing. She didn’t let me know.” He grabbed a similar-sized shell and sent it flying into the waves, both men raising a hand to their foreheads to shield their eyes as they tried to gauge the distance.

“Well, you can’t blame her for that. You’re a bit grouchy about your folks.” Pops glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “You seemed happy to see them.”

Will forced a breath. “Yeah. I am. You seem happy too, Pops. Does Sara have anything to do with that?”

His face turned crimson. “Yes, sir.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Pops gave his grandson his full attention.

“You love her, don’t you?”

Pops’s hands dipped deep into his pockets. Will heard change jingling. “Yes, I do.”

“She loves you too.”

A deep frown set into Pops’s brow. “Sweet Sara fell in love with a teenager. I’m not him anymore. She fell in love with the past. Can’t build a future on a resurrected dream.”

Will scratched his head. “So, you’re gonna let her get away?”

“No. I just want to know she can love this old man.”

Will draped an arm around his shoulder. “Who wouldn’t love this old man?”

“Come on inside. I’m getting ready to cut the cake. Thank goodness they didn’t have candles, or it’d outshine the sun.”

Side by side, they returned to the house, the sun’s glow heating their backs. One thing Will couldn’t escape was the joy his grandfather felt having Sara in his life. Adrienne had certainly gotten that one right. Will never expected Pops would find love again. No matter how angry Will got at Adrienne, she’d made that relationship possible. Nothing could take that away.





The timer on the oven ticked away minutes to another batch of mini-tarts. Adrienne stared out the window absently. The noise from the party seemed far off now. Someone was saying something behind her.

“Are you all right?” Sammie asked.

“Yeah,” she managed.

Her friend placed her hands on Adrienne’s shoulders and gently turned her. She smiled softly. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Adrienne nodded. “Will you help me get through the rest of the day? It’s agonizing. Worse than I imagined.”

Sammie nodded knowingly. “Of course. Come on.” She motioned toward the living room. “Pops wants to make an announcement.”

Adrienne breathed deep in an effort to lift some of the heaviness. She painted on her happy face and stood just inside the room, letting the doorjamb shore her up.

Most everyone was sitting or standing in the living room, where the smell of fresh paint was all but drowned out by the scent of party food. Plates and cups rested on knees. Will and his parents sat on the couch, three sets of wavy hair for her to stare at. That was a relief—at least she wouldn’t have to look at his face. Sammie squeezed her shoulder, coaxing her forward, but Adrienne planted her feet and wouldn’t budge. She remained at the doorway of the kitchen. In the room, but not part of it.

Her gaze floated across the scene. People chatting, laughing, joking, the beautiful muted roar that only comes from family gatherings. And it was all here, in her house, a place that was crumbling just a few months before. The room itself swelled with pride. This house was meant to be filled with people. Pops’s voice drew her attention.

“First,” he said, gesturing toward Adrienne, “I want to thank Adrienne for hosting this wonderful birthday party for me.” He began to clap, and the room joined him. Will didn’t move.

“And Sammie for the best food I’ve eaten in a while.” Pops thought a moment. “It is my party, so would you mind indulging me?”

Everyone smiled. Charles spoke, “Go ahead, Dad.”

Peg set her cup on the coffee table and took Charles’s hand.

Pops rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m an old man. I’ve lived through a war, buried a spouse, and seen my share of heartache.” He blinked several times, the room silent enough that one could almost hear the whisper of lashes meeting weathered skin. “But when I look around this room, I feel I must be the most blessed man on Earth.” His gaze fell on Sara. “And I’ve always thought that life should be lived. It’s not a spectator sport. Even at my age, life has so much to offer.”

Sara nodded in agreement.

“A few minutes ago, my grandson reminded me of that.”

He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. “Sixty-some years ago, I met two lovely young women, Grace and Sara.”

Adrienne’s eyes shot to Sara. She could actually see the older woman tense. Splitting her glances between the two people, she wondered why Pops would bring up Gracie, especially here, knowing how responsible Sara felt for Grace’s death. Sara tried to smile but was shrinking, old fingers lacing together in the chair where she sat board straight. Her silver-white hair was swept to the side, and her legs elegantly crossed at the ankle. She could be posing for a portrait, if not for the air of apprehension hovering around her.

“That Sara.” Pops shook his head. “Oh, she was a spitfire. No fear in sweet Sara. No fear at all. And I’m hoping that’s how she still is. Because . . . ”

No one breathed as he crossed the room and took her by the hand. “Because I’m getting ready to ask her to marry me.”

Sara tilted forward, and Adrienne wondered if she would topple out of the chair. The room’s atmosphere grew heavy with anticipation. Sara withdrew her hand from William’s and stood. Horrified eyes found Adrienne’s. As much as the older woman silently pleaded for Adrienne to rescue her, Adrienne silently pleaded for Sara not to make a monumental mistake. Say yes, Sara. Say yes. You two can sort out the details later.

Sara smoothed her skirt, gaze landing firmly on William. “I . . . ”

Sara, this is what you want. A chance to spend the rest of your life with the man you love. Don’t throw it away over shame about the letters.

Pops’s head tilted forward, awaiting her response.

Everyone else in the room seemed frozen, waiting for Sara to speak; Adrienne clenched her teeth hard. Please, Sara. Please.

“I . . . I can’t.” A head of straight white hair swung back and forth as if the word weren’t enough. “I’m sorry, William.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

Pops staggered a step backward as Sara rushed past him to the stairs. She gripped the banister and hurried up, the clomping of her feet on each step the only sound other than a mournful sigh from Pops.

Moments ticked past. When Adrienne turned her gaze to Pops, Will was standing at his side, a firm grip on the man. But Will’s eyes were burning holes through Adrienne. She pressed into the wall at her back, wishing she could melt into it.

Pops rubbed a hand over his face. “That, uh, didn’t go quite the way I anticipated.”

When his lips pressed together hard, and he fought the tears that threatened, Adrienne rushed forward. “Pops, Sara is just—”


Will reached out and took a firm hold on her arm. His tone, a quiet roar. “That’s enough, Adrienne.”

She pulled away from him, ignoring his command. “Just give her some time. She needs—she just needs a little time.”

Will stepped in to block her. “I said, that’s enough.”

There was a deadly threat in his voice. Pops glanced between the two, both trying to protect him, both failing and ready to come to blows. “Will, I believe I might like to head on home now.” He drew away from Will and shuffled toward the front door.

“Sure, Pops.”

Will threw an accusatory look in his parents’ direction. “Come on.”

Charles and Peg had stood. Peg brushed a tear from her cheek. “You want us to go—”

He pointed a finger at Pops’s back, a threat still evident. “He needs you.”

Charles nodded. “I’ll go gather our things.”

“No. We’re leaving now. We’ll get your stuff tomorrow. If you can sleep in a tent in the middle of the jungle, I think you can manage one night without your suitcase.”

Moments later, Adrienne’s house was empty of the Bryant family. No one bothered to close the front door. What did it matter? Doors were meant to be open. Except the doors to the heart. Those should remain shut at all costs.





Will worked his dive gear into his bag, wishing the deep burn in his stomach would go away. He’d sat up late with Pops, his mom and dad alongside as the four of them wasted the hours until bedtime. He had to admit, his parents knew how to care for someone hurting. His mom made tea and served it while the men assembled on the front porch. Pops had removed his watch and tapped it against his leg, held it to his ear, then tapped it again. Charles took the timepiece and used a pocket knife to open the back. He worked methodically, cleaning out dust and then rewinding the watch. When he finished, he handed it back to Pops. Pops remained quiet, but that was okay. There was more power, more strength, Will realized, in quiet comfort than in words, when the company was comprised of those most loved.

Yes, his mom and dad had their strengths. Will glanced at the house from his driveway once his dive gear was packed and loaded into his trunk. He considered going back in and making sure Pops would be okay. But a niggling little voice inside told him to let his mom and dad have some time alone with Pops. It’d be good for all of them.





Heartache was heartache, no matter the age of the recipient. Sara remained on the back deck for most of the morning. Her eyes were swollen and red. Adrienne figured a sleepless night was the culprit. She hadn’t slept much herself and had repeatedly gone to Sara’s door. She never knocked, just listened for the sound of the older woman breathing. Once, in the wee hours of the morning, she had stood there several minutes, listening to the old woman cry.

“Would you like more coffee, Sara?” she asked, sticking her head out the back door.

Haunted eyes trailed down to the full cup in her hands. “Oh, no dear.”

Adrienne stepped out. “I’m sure that’s cold. Let me take it for you.”

Frail fingers lifted the cup to Adrienne. “You were right. I should have told him.”

Adrienne swallowed hard and dropped quietly into the chair adjacent to Sara.

“But I never expected . . . a marriage proposal. That changed everything.”

The full cup was abandoned on the side table as Adrienne reached to take Sara’s hand. “How did things change?”

She brushed the soft white hair from her face. “We were building a friendship, maybe even falling in love, but . . . you can’t go into a marriage with a lie like that between you. And now it’s too late.” Sara focused her attention down the beach.

Adrienne followed her gaze and noticed the man tossing a bait net into the water. It was mesmerizing, really. The way he folded and draped the net over his shoulder, how it spun outward and into a perfect circle as he cast. “I’m sure the two of you will work things out and get beyond this.”

Sara pivoted to look at her. “There’s no getting beyond this. I ruined it again. Second chances are wonderful if you know what to do with them.”

Adrienne had no more words of encouragement, so she stayed quiet.

“Don’t let love slip through your fingers, Adrienne. When the net is cast upon you, don’t get spooked and scurry away.” Sara turned back to the beach. “It’s a lonely ocean when you’re all alone.”

Adrienne’s heart shattered into a few more jagged pieces. So much so, she barely heard the doorbell. Heavily laden with Sara’s grief, she ambled to the door. Shock registered first in her fingers and toes, then shot a path directly to her heart. “Will,” she whispered.

He was a statue, eyes cool, body board straight. “Wasn’t my idea to come. Pops wants to see Sara.” Adrienne moved out of the way as Pops, then Charles, and then Peg moved past her. Will was last.

Adrienne forced her attention to Pops, not Will. “She’ll be so happy to see you. She’s out on the back deck.”

“Thank you.” With his shoulders hunched forward, he shuffled to the back of the house.

Adrienne searched Peg’s face for an answer.

“He feels he owes her an apology. Leaving the way he did.”

Beside his mother, Will made a disgusted sound. “She’s the one who stormed off.”

Peg whipped around to face her son. “William Jefferson Bryant!”

Adrienne’s eyes rounded.

“Yes, she stormed off. After a proposal. A marriage proposal, Will. You may not understand, but for women, that’s a very big deal. Monumental, in fact. No matter how old you are.”

A dimple in Will’s cheek quirked, his jaw muscle furiously working.

Oh dear. And Adrienne thought she’d had a rough morning.

When Pops and Sara stood to walk down the beach, Adrienne offered coffee to the others left behind. She could only imagine the conversation going on outside, but she knew she had to tell them about the letters. Sara was breaking the news to Pops—of this she was certain. But she wouldn’t force the old woman to repeat it again. So she explained. The fact that Grace wouldn’t write. And how Sara had feared William wouldn’t have the will to survive without the hope letters from home could bring. All of it. Charles and Peg took it in with little response, but Will’s frown became a scowl. “Did you know this the whole time?”

“No, Will,” Adrienne huffed. “I found out the night of the military celebration. Sara knew she’d have to tell him one day, but she thought they were still building a friendship.”

His chin jutted forward. “A friendship based on lies.”

Adrienne’s anger flared. “Look, life isn’t as easy as you seem to think. And love complicates everything. Sara made a mistake.” She stepped toward him, squaring off and daring him to stop her. “She has been in love with him since she was fourteen years old. Do you know why Sara never married?”

Will swallowed and leaned back, out of the trajectory of her words that seemed to be pelting him like little poison darts.

Adrienne took his movement as an invitation to take one more step toward him. “She never got over Pops. Her whole life. Sixty years of loving a man she thought she’d never have.” When she realized she’d moved so close that their bodies were nearly touching, she pulled a breath and took a step back.

Will remained silent.


“She was terrified of losing him again, and if you can’t understand that, you’re far more heartless than I ever imagined.”

Will opened his mouth, but no words came. He rubbed a hand across his chin and muttered, “Okay.”

Peg reached up from the couch and took her son by the hand. “You can’t protect Pops from everything.”

Adrienne watched him flash a tiny smile at his mother.

After what felt like an eternity—but couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes—Pops and Sara returned. Unable to read their body language from a distance, Adrienne sighed with relief when they topped the beach steps and Pops’s hand slid into Sara’s.

He paused in the living room, resting a palm on the fireplace mantle. “I’ve never been a brilliant man. Average, I’d call myself. But I’m not ashamed of that. Right proud, I am. I’ve made it my life goal to be a good man. That’s about all. The good Lord has always smiled down on me. And once again, I find myself obtaining what I don’t deserve. Years back, two girls moved here from North Carolina with their momma.

“Many a lazy afternoon was spent on the water. Swimming or fishing,” he said.

He glanced back at the others. “I know I’m rambling, but it’s important to me that you all understand.” No one moved or made a sound.

“I joined the Army in ’42. And someone from home began to write to me.” As if suddenly reliving the war, Pops gripped the mantle more tightly to stabilize himself. “Unless you’ve experienced war, you can’t imagine it—the uncertainty, the stark reality of death that accompanies every breathing moment. We men had only each other. We fought for each other, we even cried for each other”—his gaze fell to the floor—“and sometimes we died for each other. Maybe that’s why the letters were so important to me. It reminded me that there was another world. I loved the men I served with, loved them like brothers. We were connected on a level only men in battle can understand. But I’d joined that war for another purpose. And as I would read the letters from home, I was reminded of that. I was reminded about the scent of magnolia in the summertime, blackberries in the spring, the ocean water crashing against the sand. And as I read those letters, I fell in love. Love for real.” His gaze went to Sara again. “Do you hear me, Sara? I fell in love with you sixty years ago through the letters.”

She no longer hid the tears. With one blink, they silently slipped down her cheeks.

“And that’s why I want my family to hear me when I ask this.” He moved to her and took her hand, pulling her up into his arms. Once face to face, he said, “Sara, will you marry me?”

Her voice was shaky, but no one could mistake the words. “Yes—yes, I will.”

Bittersweet happiness mingled with the pain of Adrienne’s own personal loss. The two warring factions fought their way through her body. She chose to dwell on the happiness. It had all begun with a letter, a simple handwritten letter, faded from long ago, and a determination to right the wrongs of the past. Though there’d been devastating bumps in this rocky road, things were turning out beautifully for Sara and Pops. And horribly for her. Refusing to let herself wallow in it, she moved toward them, arms outstretched, and hugged the family she had to say good-bye to.





He’d wanted to leave Adrienne’s house but was unable to get anyone on board with that plan. Everyone was all “Oooh-aaah, let’s make wedding plans.” Had they failed to remember this woman had lied to Pops? For years?

Will ran an angry hand through his hair and left the happy family inside. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon, a warning to remain on land. Wind kicked sand onto his legs as he cast a glance through the window, where he spotted Pops waltzing in the kitchen with a delighted Sara.

Okay, fine. Maybe Adrienne did have a better handle on what his family needed. Maybe he didn’t always know what was best. Will picked up a shell. He examined it for a moment, then tossed it into the sea, just as Pops had done the day before.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Will knew that Adrienne was the best thing to ever walk into his life. If the two of them could just be airlifted to a secluded island, they’d have a shot. Will slipped his hands into his pockets and was strolling down the beach when his father’s voice drifted out to him. Will closed his eyes.

“Wait up, Will,” Charles said, trying to bridge the gap between them. He was smiling when he made it to his son. “Can I walk along with you?”

Will gestured around him. “It’s a public beach.”

Charles swallowed and let his gaze fall to the sand. His words were low, lacking the initial cheer. “I mean, would you mind company?”

Guilt shot through Will. This was his father. And he loved him. He just was so angry with him. “Sure, Dad. I’d like company,” he managed, and almost meant it.

Charles knelt to examine a coconut washed up on shore. “I need to talk to you, Will.” He rose and buried his hands in his own pockets, mimicking Will. Charles stared out to the horizon. “I’ve needed to for a long time.”

Will bristled.

Charles’ gaze moved to his son, tentatively. “Why are you so angry with me?”

Will could avert this discussion. He’d done it many times. But in the last couple of months he’d learned some things. And one of the biggest lessons was about things not always being as they appeared.

“Dad, it’s not that I’m angry.”

“No,” Charles interrupted, uncharacteristically, “It is, but I don’t know why.”

Will stared at him. “Are you kidding?”

The look in Charles’s eyes conveyed only confusion.

Will shook his head. “You ditched us, Dad. Not once, but twice.”

Charles frowned, still not getting it.

“You left your family for people you don’t even know. You did it once, and then when Pops needed you most, you did it again. For strangers, Dad.”

The older man slowly turned from Will. Tears stung his eyes as he stared at the storm clouds.

Studying his face, Will could see the lines, now deeper than he remembered. How long had his dad had the streaks of white-gray hair that peppered his temples? Suddenly, his dad looked old. Frail. As if Will’s confession had aged him twenty years right before his eyes.

Charles spoke, but it was barely more than a whisper. “I’ve never been good at sports,” he said in a mumbling tone, and Will wondered if his dad had lost it. “I can’t play basketball or baseball. Your mom beats me on the court.”

Alarmed by his father’s babbling, Will said, “What?”

But his dad was somewhere else, conversing with no one. “I’m a lousy fisherman. I get seasick when I even think about the water.”

Will’s tone drew his attention. “Dad,” he said sharply, “what are you talking about?”

Charles turned to face him. “I’ve always been so proud of your relationship with my dad.” He corrected himself. “I mean, it made me a bit uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. I just . . . ” He lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “I just always felt like an outsider looking in. I envied your closeness. You’re like a carbon copy of him. Baseball and all. I would probably be jealous if it weren’t for the joy I get watching you two together.”

Will tried to follow the conversation.


Charles straightened, chin tilting up. “My father and my son, closer than brothers.”

In Will’s entire life, he had never wondered how his relationship to Pops might make his dad feel. Charles Bryant was an intelligent man, but more bookish than physical. He couldn’t hit a ball or catch a Frisbee. Those things just weren’t natural for him. Fixing watches, though—well, that was in his power. And not just watches, but fixing computer programs and explaining the laws of physics so that a layperson could understand—that’s what Charles was great at. Will and Pops, on the other hand, were good at any sport thrown their way. Guilt, once again, tickled its way through Will’s system.

“When your grandma died, we were making arrangements to come home for good. I found out that you were planning on having Pops move in with you and—”

Will’s anger was tempered only marginally. This wasn’t a viable excuse. “And what, Dad? You just changed your plans? Yes, I wanted Pops to live with me, but you should have tried to stop me. You should have fought for him.” That’s what this was really about. His parents should have fought to keep Pops.

“Do you actually think you would have let me? Your mind was made up.” He placed a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Will, everyone has a mission in life. You and Pops being together is right. But”— he shook his head—“If I had known you resented it—”

Will cut him off. “I don’t resent it. I love that Pops is with me. I just don’t understand how you could leave him.”

“When Pops found out we were making plans to return for good, he was angry. Our work in the field is very important to him. He said the people there needed us much more than he did. He said he’d never forgive us for coming back and leaving them. Reality set in, and I knew I really couldn’t offer him very much. We don’t share any of the same interests. I can’t take him fishing or boating. I agonized over what to do. One night, I had a dream. I saw you and Pops walking to your boat. It might sound silly, but I knew what to do. I just knew.”

Charles pulled in a ragged breath and picked up a clam shell. He dusted sand particles from it and flung it out into the water. It went a third of the distance Will’s shell had. “I should have talked to you about it, though. I guess this is the hardest part of being stationed overseas.” He turned to face his son. “A lot of people raise their families in the field. Many kids grow up that way and love it. They have two homelands. But we didn’t want that for you. We wanted you to grow up near your grandparents, playing ball and going to movies with your friends. We weren’t planning on going into the field until you were out of college, but you were so independent. You didn’t seem like you needed us. Didn’t seem like you had needed us since you were fourteen and got your first job. Your senior year, the opening came up. It was a year out, so you would be off at college. It just seemed like the right opportunity.”

Why had Will never heard these things? He wasn’t the ball and chain that kept his parents from leaving sooner. It was their love for him and Grandma and Pops that had kept him stateside. They wanted him to grow up here.

Charles placed both hands on Will’s upper arms and stared at him with intense blue eyes. “If I had known how you felt . . . ”

“I never knew some of your decisions were based on what was best for me. Dad, I’m so sorry.”

His dad hugged him. “Well, Mom and I figured we’d only get five or six years in the field until we’d need to come home for good. But maybe we should have waited to leave in the first place.”

“Why only five or six years?”

“Again, you’re the timeline. We were going to wait until you were out of college. We figured the natural order of things would come into play. After college comes marriage and . . . ” He watched his son. “You don’t really think your mother is going to live thirty hours away from her grandbabies, do you?”

“Well, I’ve probably bought you some time.” He pushed his fingers through his hair.

“Adrienne is quite an amazing woman, isn’t she? I wouldn’t give up on her,” Will’s father cast a glance at his son.

“She may have given up on me.”

“Time will tell,” Charles said. “Will, I’m really glad we talked.”

“Me too, Dad. It changes everything.” Will placed his arm around his father’s shoulder, and they slowly walked back to the house, enjoying the warmth of the sun that illuminated the world around them.

As he stepped onto the back patio, finding the perfect vision of Adrienne, who looked up from the kitchen sink, another storm gathered, this one in the depths of her coffee-colored eyes.