Her stomach shifted, unsettled by the whole tone of the conversation but feeling it needed to be brought out into the open. “I’m saying there are better uses of your time, that’s all. And that at Tom and Abby’s wedding, it might be good to stay off the bottle.”
“My, my. I’m surprised a paragon like yourself is willing to drive in a vehicle with such a degenerate. You must fear for your very safety. What a high opinion you have of me.”
“Don’t be like that. You know I have good reason to bring it up.”
“Of course. Judging me is just one of the perks, right?”
“I’m not judging you.”
“Really? Sure looks like it from where I’m sitting.” He frowned. “If it makes you feel better, I promise not to knock over the wedding cake or throw up on the minister’s shoes.”
“Now you’re being an ass.”
“Which is exactly what you expect from me, right? Always happy to please.”
He was impossible. Laughing one minute and defensive and angry the next. And perhaps a little bit right, but was there any good way to broach the topic that wouldn’t be offensive? Especially since Rick didn’t even acknowledge that he had a problem. The teasing atmosphere they’d achieved during the drive to the shelter was completely obliterated.
They were nearing town now and Jess could hardly wait for the drive to be over. She closed her eyes and wondered why Rick always managed to goad her into an argument.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said softly. “You asked me to go along today for moral support and all I ended up doing was picking a fight. I shouldn’t have done that.”
His breath came out on a whoosh. “Arguing with you takes my mind off other things, so don’t worry about it.”
“Things like what?”
He shrugged.
They started down the hill to Main Street. The ride was almost over and nothing felt settled or on solid ground. “Things like what?” she repeated.
“Like my mom’s empty house,” he answered. “Like having to go through her things knowing she’ll never touch them again. Like knowing she is my only family in the world and she’s gone.”
Jess recognized his tone for what it was—pain.
“Look, I know I’m not perfect. I have issues. I’m a huge disappointment. I’m angry. I’m angry all the time and I don’t know where to put it. But I’m trying. Maybe it doesn’t look like it, but I am. And I do that one day at a time.”
She was about to respond when he finished with, “So it would be great if you could just back off.”
He turned off of Main onto Lilac Lane, pulling up to the curb outside the shop.
Jess gathered her handbag and opened the door.
“Thanks for coming with me,” he said, but there was a distinct lack of warmth in the words.
“You’re welcome.”
She was about to shut the door when he stopped her. “Jess?”
She looked up. It was so hard to read his face. He’d made stonewall expressions an art form. But there was something in his eyes, something a bit softer than the hard line of his jaw, as he nodded. “I promise I won’t make any problems at the wedding. You can count on me to be the soul of propriety.”
It was hard enough to imagine Rick saying the word propriety let alone being the epitome of it. But he was trying. He’d been honest. More honest than he’d been since his arrival home, at least. Even if they’d argued, there had been moments of truth. She should be glad for that.
“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied, looking up at him.
“And I’d appreciate if you kept the adoption thing to yourself.”
“I promise,” she replied solemnly, meaning it. It struck her now that she was the first person he’d ever shared that information with and she’d rewarded his confidence by picking a fight. “I won’t say anything.”
Then she slammed the door and scooted across the street to the shop, feeling his gaze on her back, wondering what he was going to do now.