"Only for a few weeks now," Lola said hastily. "It's taken me that long to nerve myself up to visiting. Not because I didn't want to see you, although of course I didn't know how you might have changed, or if you'd want to seeme, but…" She glanced out the window at the vast town square, and spoke quietly. "It wasn't a happy time, when I left Virtue. I wasn't sure I wanted to come backhere. If you can understand the difference."
"I do, but…" Sam spread his hands. "I have so many questions, Lola."
Her laugh, high and fluting, sounded strained. "Oh, believe me, so do I. It just…this doesn't seem like the place."
"No. No, it doesn't, but…I'm so glad to see you." It was such an understatement Sam was almost embarrassed to say it, but the tender smile he received in response was everything he could hope for.
"Me too," Lola whispered. "Oh, me too, Sam. I hardly know what to do with myself, but I'mso gladto see you."
"Would you like to—" Sam bit off the impulsive question, then rushed ahead with it. "Would you like to come out to the house this evening? Or tomorrow? So we can talk?"
"The house." Lola's face went blank for a moment, as if she was repressing a memory. "Your parents' house. Of course that would be yours now. Oh, God, Sam, I don't know. The last time I was there was for yourfuneral,for heaven's sake, and it didn't go well."
"My funeral didn't go well?" he asked in astonishment. He'd known they had one for him, before he'd made his way back home months later. But he'd imagined it as a heartbroken, solemn affair that his parents, for obvious reasons, didn't like to talk about. The idea that ithadn't gone wellwas almost laughable, if it weren't for the old pain in Lola's eyes.
"No one told you," she said after a moment. "Oh, my. Well. You know your parents didn't like me."
Sam closed his eyes briefly, feeling his expression say everything that needed to be said, although as he opened his eyes he also spoke aloud. "I do know. We had a lot of fights about that."
His fox sniffed with disdain bordering on fury.They were stupid. Fate is the best mate.
"I know you did," Lola said with a sigh. "And so did I, with them. Oh, Sam. There's so much to explain and part of me wants to pretend none of it ever happened or matters, and in a way I suppose it doesn't. It's been so long. But at the same time…"
"It doesn't matter," Sam said firmly. "Because we have now, whatever we make of it, no matter what else." His voice gentled, and he put his hand out across the table, hoping she would take it. "I don't know what you might want from this reunion, Lola, and I'm not going to push you about that, either. Not ever, but especially right now, when we've got so much to figure out about what happened. But please believe me. There's nothing I want more in the world than to hear your story."
To his relief, and with an electric sensation of joy, Lola gently fitted her hand into his. Her skin was cooler than he remembered, the bones more prominent in her fingers, knuckles larger than they'd been, but her touch was exactly as it had been so long ago: one part steady comfort and one part sparking connection, saying theybelongedtogether in a way he never could with anyone else. Lola smiled at their joined hands, lifting her gaze to his. "My hand never did fit quite right in anyone else's."
"That's just what I was thinking."
Lola took a deep breath and shook her head. "I don't think I can face your house yet, honestly. Could we meet somewhere else? My granddaughter has an apartment over the new bar."
"Hold My Bear?" Sam asked. "I went in there once just after they opened. It was so nice I ran away again."
"Right?" Lola laughed aloud and squeezed his hand. "It was such a dive when we were kids. I couldn't believe it when Charlee told me she was working there, and I couldn't believe it even more when I saw the place!"
"Wait, wait. Oh, of course. Charlee must be short for Charlotte. Chef Charlee is your granddaughter? She's only been in Virtue a few months, but she has legions of passionate acolytes in town. Even an old recluse like me has heard people waxing eloquent. I gather she's anincrediblecook!"
"I taught her to cook," Lola said with no false modestly, "but she took it to levels I never dreamed of. I'm sure she would bring something up for us if her apartment would be all right with you?"
"It would be perfect," Sam assured her. "And Charlee doesn't even have to feed us, if she doesn't wan?—"
"She'll want to," Lola said dryly, and when he laughed, said, "No, I'm serious. I've been too nervous to eat and she's been fussing. She'll probably bring the whole menu up for us. Sam…" There was longing in his name. "It's so good to see you again."
Sam blurted, "We could go over to her apartment now?" and tried not to cringe at how eager-teen he sounded. "No, that's pushy, I don't mean to be?—"
The store's door bells rang, startling him: he had more or less forgotten the world existed around them anymore. He and Lola both glanced toward the door, and Sam met Garius Beren's apologetic gaze. "Oh, hell. I forgot I was doing business."
"We can arrange to meet again tomorrow," the big man offered. "I just thought I should stop back in and decide on our course of action before leaving you to yours." His smile for Lola was charming enough that she dimpled, although Sam could also almostseeher thinking 'what a nice young man.'
"Don't let me interrupt your business," she said. "Sam and I are just old friends, catching up after a very long time."
He knew better, but that 'just' sent a pang through Sam's heart.
From Garius's expression, it showed, because his smile twisted gently. "I appreciate that, but I hate to break up a reunion. Unfortunately, Conri and Iarescheduled to leave tomorrow afternoon, so…"
So, with a groan, Sam stood up to leave Lola Nelson behind.
CHAPTER5
