True believer - Nicholas Sparks [118]
If Lexie’s lights were still on after the dance had ended, he supposed he could drop by on his way home, like he’d done the night after Mr. Renaissance had left. He had a feeling she wouldn’t be entirely surprised to see him. He figured she’d probably stare at him for a moment before opening the door. She’d brew some decaf, and just like the last time, he’d sit on the couch and listen for hours as she berated herself for being so foolish.
He nodded to himself. He knew her better than he knew himself.
Even so, he wasn’t ready to do that just yet. For one thing, she needed a bit more time alone so she could sort things out. And he had to admit he was a little tired of being viewed as the big-brother type, and he wasn’t sure he was in the mood to listen to her. He was feeling pretty good, after all, and right now he wasn’t anxious to end the evening on a downer.
Besides, the band wasn’t half-bad. It was a lot better than the one they’d had last year. From the corner of his eye, he watched Rachel swaying in time to the music, pleased that she’d sought him out for company, just as she had the other night at the party. She had always been easy to be around, but the strange thing was that lately, every time he saw her, she seemed just a bit prettier than he remembered. No doubt it was just his imagination, but he couldn’t help thinking that she looked especially nice tonight.
Rachel noticed him watching her and grinned in embarrassment. “Sorry,” she said, “I like this song.”
Rodney cleared his throat. “Would you like to dance?” he asked.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“I’m not much of a dancer, though—”
“I’d love to,” she interrupted, reaching for his hand.
Following her to the floor, he decided then and there that he’d figure out what to do about Lexie later.
Doris sat in the rocker in the living room, staring absently in the direction of the window and wondering if Lexie would drop by. Her intuition led her to doubt it, but it was one of those moments when she wished she was wrong. She knew that Lexie was upset—this was less a premonition than a reading of the obvious—and it had everything to do with Jeremy leaving.
In some ways, she wished she hadn’t pushed Lexie toward him. Looking back, she knew now that she should have suspected it might end this way, so why had she done everything she could to set their affair in motion? Because Lexie was lonely? Because Lexie was stuck in a rut and had been ever since she’d fallen for the young man from Chicago? Because she’d come to believe that Lexie was frightened by the thought of ever falling for someone again?
Why couldn’t she have just enjoyed Jeremy’s company? Really, that was all she’d wanted Lexie to do. Jeremy was intelligent and charming, and Lexie simply needed to see that there were men like him out there. She needed to realize that not every man was like Avery or the young man from Chicago. What did she call him now? Mr. Renaissance? She tried to remember his name but knew that it wasn’t important. What was important was Lexie, and Doris was worried about her.
Oh, she’d be all right in the long run, Doris knew. No doubt she would accept the reality of what had happened and find a way to move on. In time, she’d even convince herself it was a good thing. If she’d learned one thing about Lexie, it was that Lexie was a survivor.
Doris sighed. She knew Jeremy was smitten. If Lexie had fallen for him, he’d fallen even harder, and Lexie had learned the art of putting relationships behind her and living her life pretending they never happened.
Poor Jeremy, she thought. It wasn’t fair to him.
Up at Cedar Creek Cemetery, Lexie stood in the thickening fog overlooking the spot where her parents had been buried. She knew that Jeremy and Alvin would be filming the trestle and Riker’s Hill from the boardwalk, which meant that she could be alone with her thoughts tonight.
She didn’t intend to stay long, but for some reason, she’d felt compelled to come. She’d done the same thing after her relationships with Avery and Mr. Renaissance had ended, and as she shone