Page 77 of Meet Me on Lilac Lane

He barked out a laugh. “For what?”

“For being willing to brave this awkward situation with me.”

He remembered her self-deprecating humor. “My pleasure.”

“I’m glad you offered to help today. It forced me to act. The truth is, I’ve been a coward. There are things I need to say to you, things long overdue.” She rolled her shoulders.

He waited. Gave her space. It was the least he could do.

She took a long swallow of her tea then looked him straight in the eye. Her face hard, lips in a tight line. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you or your father for what happened to Steve and Troy.”

The floor shifted as if it might give way under him. It was a good thing he was seated. “Okay…”

She put a hand up to stop him from saying anything else. “I know it would be easy for you to think that I do blame you, that that’s the reason I don’t talk to you. But I know that accidents happen, and that’s what that whole incident was. An accident.”

Cody took a full, deep breath, his first since coming in the house. “It means a lot to me to hear you say that—” But Mrs. Franklin hadn’t finished.

“I can’t talk to you, I can barely look at you, because I am reminded of him. Of my boy. What would he look like two years older? How would he be as a dad to his growing kids?” She fisted a hand and raised it to her mouth. A long, sharp, icy shard pierced his heart. “Steve I can mourn, I can let go. I’m still dealing with that grief, but it’s manageable. But no mother should outlive her son.” The last words came in a whisper. The clock above the sink ticked a few seconds past.

She folded her hands in her lap and looked at him again. “But I’m a coward for not telling you over and over these past few years that nothing that happened was your fault. You are not guilty. And I’m a coward for pushing you away and not holding you close. I lost two sons that day.”

“You didn’t lose me.” His voice roughened by unshed tears.You are not guilty. Yeah. He’d be reliving those words often. “I’m right here. If you want me to be.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. And when I saw you jogging up my walk, I vowed to tell you the truth.”

“That’s okay too. Take the time you need.” He started to stand.

“Wait,” she said. “There’s more I want to say.” He settled back down. “Gossip around town says you are trying to reopen your dad’s business.”

“Yes. That’s right. I wanted to honor Troy’s memory. We’d always planned to take over the business together, as you know. But that’s a dream that I’m thinking about letting die. Everything seems to be against me.”

A frown line crossed her forehead. “But why let it die?”

He outlined the trouble he’d had sourcing parts, the interruptions every time he started making progress on repairs, and finally, he told her about his dad refusing to transfer the fishing license.

She nodded slowly. “Those are a lot of problems. Maybe it’s not my place to say, but I think you should still try. Troy would tell you to never give up. To keep running, like he used to cheer when you were in track. He loved being out on the water with you.”

“That sounds like Troy.”

“It would honor Troy’s memory. But ultimately, you need to do what is right.”

“Being a fisherman is all I know. I love it.” His heart lightened.

“Speaking of love…” Her face softened for the first time that afternoon. “Don’t you think it’s about time you ask Mia out?”

“What?” The word exploded from his chest.

“Come on. You’ve been pining for that girl since ninth grade. Maybe even longer. Don’t get me wrong, I saw how you supported her and Troy, and I’ve always admired you for that. But you don’t have to step aside anymore. Troy would want his family taken care of, and I can’t think of anyone who would do a better job…if that’s what you and Mia both want, of course.”

“I appreciate that.” More than she would ever know. He opened his mouth to tell her that he’d taken Mia out a few nights ago, then hesitated. He should check with Mia before spreading that news. Even if Mrs. Franklin did just bless their potential relationship.

Mrs. Franklin set her cup down and pushed her chair back. “While I’m feeling brave, I suppose you should come through to the backyard.”

“Okay…” He felt like a broken record, but all of this was giving him conversational whiplash.

She led him out the back door and toward a shed. Next to the shed was a large shape covered with a tarp. He knew that shape. It was the speedboat Troy had been tinkering with throughout high school and beyond. Many Friday nights found the two of them fiddling with the outboard motor or slapping some duct tape over a new crack in the seat cushions. Mia would sit in a lawn chair nearby, her long legs crossed, Pharrell Williams on the radio, the three of them laughing at something stupid.

Mrs. Franklin walked fast toward the boat. She peeled back a corner of the tarp. “Troy would want you to have this.”

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