The waitress came toward them, but he shook his head subtly, and she turned on her heel and went back into the bakery. Lydia felt impossibly small, and it was hard to believe someone so frail could wreak such havoc on their community.
But her spirit wasn’t frail. The Lydia he first met had been fiery and hadn’t let anyone walk all over her. She’d always had a mischievous smile for him, and had sent over her family’s top-secret marinara recipe when she learned he loved to cook homemade pasta. She’d also critiqued it when he’d brought her some, and told him he needed to stop being stingy with the olive oil.
But the last year had been filled with blows—most especially her stroke and learning to walk with a walker—to her spirit, and he found he couldn’t be angry with her for what she’d done.
“We’ll fix this,” he said with conviction.
She pulled her hands away from her face, looking at least ten years older than she had when they’d sat down to breakfast. “I’m going to confess, Asher. No more secrets.”
His breakfast churned in his gut. Would confessing really help everyone? It would certainly give them all a single person to heap blame and anger on—but it wouldn’t take away the secrets that were already out there.
“I think you should wait.” His mind whirled, trying to come up with a plan and failing.
“I know you mean well, but we’ve learned how damaging secrets can be.”
“And we’ve also learned how damaging it can be for some secrets to come out,” he replied with raised eyebrows. “And I don’t mean the kind where someone is getting hurt and needs help. I mean the private things that people don’t always want to share.”
“I hurt a lot of people,” she argued. “And it’s only right I apologize.”
“But what if they alienate you even more?” He fisted his hands under the table at the thought of what could happen to her and let out a heated breath.
“Then that’s the consequence for my actions,” she shot back, sounding like her fiery self.
Asher fought a weary smile. His morning had taken a strange turn. “I’m not going to lie, when I set out to catch you, I didn’t think I’d be here trying to convince you not to tell anyone.”
She chuckled and actually stuck one of those tiny croissant pieces in her mouth. He moved back to his side of the table to finish eating his breakfast.
“Yes, well, I didn’t expect I’d be arguing my need to confess, either,” she said sardonically.
They ate in companionable silence as the sun rose fully over the Atlantic Ocean. “Wait until after the wedding,” Asher finally said. “There’s got to be a way to do this that keeps everyone from turning on you.”
Her smile drooped. “I’ll wait until next week,” she promised wearily.
There had to be a way to help her—not only to confess, which he still wasn’t convinced was the right idea, but to help the people of The Palms trust again.
Chapter 32
WinniefoundherElvisPresley CD and turned the volume up to listen to while she got ready for the wedding.
She’d finished the flower girl’s dress late last night, in just the nick of time, and it was adorable. She couldn’t wait to see it on Amelia, Willow’s little girl.
She’d also sewed bow ties for all the groomsmen and Willow’s son Leo, the ring bearer, which had been a surprise for Julia. She hadn’t wanted to promise anything until she knew she could get it done, but all the coordinating, bright summer colors were going to be perfect for this bright, sunny day.
Now, if only the people could be bright and sunny for the wedding.
She checked her phone, sad to see that it had been over a week since her last text message from anyone in the Secret Seven. She usually had at least one text a day from them, but since the secrets started coming out, her phone was unusually silent.
Someone had to reach out first, though, and it might as well be her.
Winnie:Are you coming to the wedding?
She set her phone down so she could work on her make-up, and after only a few minutes it lit up with messages.
Don: Yep
Rosa:Of course!
Walt:Wouldn’t miss it.
