* * *
Lila had breakfast alone. Jake popped in, gave her a wave, then bypassed the dining room and went into the kitchen. She could hear his muffled voice as well as Mrs. Wheaton's. Before long he returned, carrying a tray of food.
"Tony's a tad exhausted this morning," Jake said, then gave her a wink. "I thought I'd bring him breakfast in bed."
"That Tony's a lucky guy," Lila answered. As she watched the silver haired man's well-formed back as he made his exit, she wished she was as lucky as Tony. She wanted someone to watch over her, take care of her. Looking after herself for so long, and before that caring for her mother, she couldn't remember what it felt like to have someone to lean on.
She was just finishing her plate of eggs and toast when a knock on the dining room doorframe brought her head up. Her eyes landed on the interloper, and she wasn't surprised to find that it was Alex Drake.
A flash of heat rushed over her. He was so damned handsome. She hoped he couldn't see the flush that was surely lighting up her face.
"Good morning, cupcake," he said, sauntering into the room and pulling out a chair to take a seat beside her. "Save me any breakfast?"
"I'm sure Mrs. Wheaton could--Hey!"
Alex gave her a cheeky smile as he stole the last corner of her toast and took a bite. "No need, I'll just finish yours."
Lila quirked an eyebrow at him, holding back a laugh. She'd spent half the night wondering if she'd see him again today, fairly certain that she would. But that edge of doubt remained. Nothing about Alex Drake was predictable.
"Now that you're done," he said, using the final bite of toast to wipe up a smear of egg from the plate, "what say you come with me?"
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
When they arrived at their destination, Lila was taken aback. She hadn't expected him to drive down a gravel road that wound through the forests of the Tennessee hillside. They pulled up in front of an old building that was so dilapidated, she didn't know what name to give it. It almost resembled a cabin, but with a couple shabby additions from different materials.
"Welcome to the shack," Alex said, his face suddenly serious.
"The shack?"
"This is where I grew up." He turned off the car and stepped out.
Lila followed suit, careful to avoid a swampy puddle as she climbed out of the car. Alex headed up the driveway to the front door, where he stopped and waited for her to join him.
Lila noticed a padlock across the sturdy metal latch holding the front door closed. Alex extracted a small key from his pocket and opened it, then tugged the door ajar. The hinges protested mightily, but he at last managed to open the door so that they could walk in.
The inside was dark, but Alex brought out a small flashlight from his jacket pocket and shone it around the room.
Lila shivered, the air inside just as cold as outside. And the feel of the place...it was dismal in its own right.
Alex stepped behind her, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to stimulate warmth. "It's too cold in here, and you can't see shit with this flashlight. Wait here while I get some wood from out back." He handed her his flashlight, then disappeared out the door.
Lila shined the beam around the space, frowning at the worn furniture and layers of grime on everything. The shack had clearly been shut up for years, but beneath the dust were furnishing so ancient, they'd probably been old when Alex himself was young.
A few ragged chairs, a rug that was stained and torn, a mess of cracked and dirty dishes in the sink. Lila's heart went out to Alex in that moment. She now saw how difficult a childhood he must have had, crammed with his parents and six sisters in this tiny, run-down shack.
A creak of the front door hinges brought her attention back and she swung the light around to the doorway.
An old man stood there. He flung an arm to cover his face. "Git that light outta my eyes."
"Sorry." She pointed the flashlight at the floor then stood frozen, unsure of what to do.
"Yer the one he wanted us to meet?"
Lila's mouth opened, but it was a moment before anything came out. "I'm sorry?"
"My boy. He said he had someone ferus to meet. You ain't her, are ya?"
Lila stared hard at the man in the doorway. Although he was stooped, his frame was still tall. White hair and a ruddy complexion that came from years of drinking. As a breeze blew through the doorway, Lila could smell the liquor on his clothes.
Her mind flashed to the photos on Ruth Ann's mantle. In the doorway stood Alex Drake's father.
"I'm Lila Johnstone," she said, stepping closer but deciding not to offer her hand. "I'm a friend of your son's."
He grunted in response. "You ain't who I was expectin'."
Lila shrugged. "Who were you expecting?"
"That lady from the TV. The blond one." He eyed her up and down. "Skinny one."
Lila's heartbeat sped up. Alana Morgan. She said nothing, but he saw the recognition in her eyes.
"You know her. The one that's fixin' to marry my boy. She's classy, that one. A real lady." His eyes broadcast that Lila was anything but.
"Well I'm not her." And I wish people would quit reminding me of that fact.
"Sure ain't." The old man looked her up and down again, then turned and left.
Lila stood there in the cold dark. The chills that ran down her back had nothing to do with the winter temperature.