Window on the Bay

by Debbie Macomber

  “Mom,” I said, placing my hand firmly on my hip. “Just exactly what are you doing?”

  “Oh hi, Jenna.” She wore a huge smile. I could see water had pooled in the corners of her eyes from laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked, looking from one to the other.

  “Your mother was telling me about you as a child,” Rowan told me, his eyes full of mirth.

  “I bet she was.”

  “So it’s true what your mother told me. You tricked your brother into thinking he was attending a costume party in high school when it was a birthday party for his best friend.”

  Containing a smile was difficult. “Tommy looked pretty cute in that wedding dress and veil,” I countered.

  Rowan chuckled and shook his head, as if he found it hard to believe I would pull such a nasty stunt.

  “He deserved it.”

  “Now, Jenna,” Mom interjected.

  “Mom,” I said, defending myself. “Tommy found my journal and took it to school and let several boys read it.” If Allie was mortified by her little incident earlier that day, I could easily top it with what had happened to me. My brother was a sneak and a thief. He deserved every catcall he got while wearing that wedding dress. It took him several days to recover, and he never stole my journal again.

  “Jenna was embarrassed to have her secret thoughts revealed, but it had a happy ending,” Mom added.

  “Happy ending when I paid Tommy back, you mean.”

  “No, dear, if I remember correctly, you had written in your journal how much you liked Tommy’s friend John Livingston.”

  I groaned, vividly remembering how horrified I’d been that John had read the secret desires of my teenage-tender heart. “Don’t remind me.”

  “But don’t you remember what happened after that?” Mom asked.

  Nothing good had come of the embarrassment that I could recall.

  “Jenna, John asked you to the next school dance the following September. Surely you haven’t forgotten that.”

  It was almost a year after the diary incident, and I’m certain the only reason he did was because he knew I was a sure bet. He’d already asked three other girls who had all turned him down. Then, and only then, had he approached me. His biggest mistake was telling me that I wasn’t the first girl he’d asked, or the second, or even the third choice. At times, boys could be so lame. The sad thing was this: Those boys grew up to be men with little improvement in their social skills.

  “Either way, it’s a fun story,” Rowan said.

  Looking at his watch, he uncrossed his legs and stood. “I need to get back to the hospital.”

  “Nice to see you, Rowan,” Mom said.

  “I’m glad you’re making a good recovery, Carol, and I’ll see you tomorrow at ten, Jenna,” he said.

  His gaze held mine and all I could do was nod, letting him know I was eager to see him.

  “Later, then,” he said, as he made his departure from the room.

  Mom didn’t wait more than two seconds before she sat up farther in bed. “You’re dating Rowan?” Delight lifted her voice a full octave higher than normal. “Oh Jenna, he is the most wonderful doctor. Now, don’t you let that man slip through your fingers.”

  “Mom, please. He asked me out for a car ride to see the fall colors. It isn’t a marriage proposal.”

  “I know, I know,” she agreed. “But everyone has to start somewhere.”

  “Yes, Mother,” I said, hiding my amusement.

  It did my heart good to find Mom doing so well. I’d been keeping my brother apprised of her recovery, and he was planning a trip to see her sometime later in the month.

  Although Mom was making the best of the situation, I knew she hated being away from home. Progress was slow, but she was adjusting to her limitations, although it wasn’t easy. Since transferring to the rehab facility, she’d worked hard with both the physical therapist and occupational therapist. If her recovery continued at this rate, it wouldn’t be long before she’d be able to move back home.

  I took the chair recently vacated by Rowan. There was a second one in the room, but I chose that one.

  As soon as I was comfortable, Mom asked, “I’ve been worried about Mr. Bones. Are you sure he’s getting fed? He’s picky, you know. He only likes one brand of cat food. I don’t remember how much was left in the bag. Check for me, would you?”

  “Sure, Mom, no problem.” I should’ve known she would be worrying about that ungrateful cat. That my mother would concern herself over this silly feline tickled me. Here she was in a rehab facility following a complicated hip surgery, learning to walk all over again, and her biggest fear was that the feral cat she had befriended wasn’t getting his preferred cat food.

  She must have read something in my face, because a worried look came over her. “Thank you. I do fret about him. I found him shortly after we lost your father. Having Mr. Bones around gave me someone to look after and care for, and I needed that. I should have named him Comfort Cat, because he’s become such a comfort to me.”

  I’d never thought of that cranky cat as helping my mother through the grief process. My attitude toward him did an instantaneous turnaround. If Mr. Bones meant that much to my mother, then I’d feed him a filet mignon if he wanted one.

  Mom got teary-eyed after mentioning my father. While she’d done her best to adjust without him, she still missed him every second of every day.

  Wanting to find a way to calm her, I opened my purse and brought out a tube of my favorite lotion. I’d noticed the skin of her arms and legs had become dry. “How about if I rub lotion on your legs and arms while I’m here?”

  Mom nodded appreciatively. “That would be lovely.”

  I started with her arms, smoothing the scented lotion into her skin. As I massaged, I relayed my conversation with Allie and what had happened earlier in the day. Mom found the story as entertaining as I had and promised not to repeat a word of the incident to anyone, especially Allie.

  I switched to Mom’s other arm and we chatted away. We were laughing and enjoying each other when Rich Gardner casually strolled into the room.

  “Jenna,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”

  I noticed that he all but ignored my mother.

  “Hello,” I said, without a lot of warmth. “Mom and I are having a good visit.”

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked.

  “No, but thanks.” I squeezed a fresh blot of cream into my hand, attempting to let him know we were in the middle of something.

  “Would you be available for dinner tomorrow?”

  Mom’s eyes flared briefly as she glanced over at me.

  “I already have plans.” I didn’t know how much more direct I could get.

  He shrugged as if it was nothing. “Another time, perhaps.”

  “Perhaps,” I said, even though I didn’t mean it. I had no intention of dating him. He gave me weird vibes. Not that I thought he was dangerous or had an ulterior motive. My second impression of him hadn’t improved.

  Mom waited until Rich had left the room. “Mr. Gardner has asked you out before this?”

  “I’m not interested,” I said. Recapping the tube of lotion, I set it back inside my purse.

  “Oh my, but he’s handsome. If things don’t work out with Rowan, you might consider Mr. Gardner.”

  “Mom!”

  “Just saying,” Mom said, with that twinkle in her eyes.

  * * *

  —

  Rowan picked me up promptly at ten o’clock the following morning. He looked wonderful in jeans and a dark corduroy jacket. He’d sent me a text earlier in the morning, asking if I was up for a short hike. I was, and had dressed appropriately.

  He led me to his car and opened the door. I noticed he had an entire set of new tires. The leather interior wa
s plush and comfortable. Once he was inside the vehicle himself, he turned to look my way.

  “I did a bit of research on the best location to view fall colors and decided we should drive up to Gold Creek Lake. There’s a mile-long trail there that will give us a good view.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “It’s an hour drive, give or take a few minutes,” he said as he started the engine.

  “Perfect.”

  “I didn’t think we’d be comfortable sitting in the car for several hours. The hike offers us a chance to stretch our legs. The information I read said the trail is less than a mile and goes all the way around the lake.”

  “I believe we have a plan,” I said, leaning back into my seat.

  With that settled, Rowan headed to I-5 and then cut over to I-90, heading toward Snoqualmie Pass. The music on the radio was easy listening. I tapped my foot to the familiar songs, enjoying myself.

  “Tell me more about yourself,” I said. “When we had coffee, you let me do all the talking.”

  He grinned, as if that had been his plan from the start. “What do you want to know?”

  I shrugged. “Let’s start with your childhood.”

  “Okay. I have a mom and dad, both alive and retired, living in Florida now.”

  “Where did they live before?”

  “Charleston, West Virginia. My father was a surgeon, too, and my mother a nurse.”

  This seemed to be a familiar story. I wanted to ask if his ex was a nurse but decided against it.

  “Siblings?”

  “One. A sister, two years younger.”

  “She’s a nurse?”

  “No, an accountant.” He glanced over at me and grinned. “Surprised you, didn’t it?”

  It did, but just as I was about to say something, we passed the community of North Bend. Directly ahead of us was an entire forest of trees in brilliant shades of red, brown, and yellow. It was as if God had taken a brush and painted the landscape in bold colors. The beauty of it took my breath away. For several moments I was incapable of speech.

  “Oh my,” I whispered in awe, once I caught my breath.

  “It is beautiful,” Rowan said, but his gaze lingered on me rather than the landscape. “I’ve always loved autumn,” he said. “In West Virginia, it’s all this and more.”

  “More?”

  “One day I’ll show you and you can judge for yourself.”

  He spoke as if we had a future. With anyone else I would have heard warning bells. I didn’t appreciate a man who took me for granted or made assumptions. With Rowan, I felt none of that. When I paused to analyze my feelings, I realized I wouldn’t mind having a future with him. It was far too early in the relationship to make any predictions. At this point, though, I was interested, more so than I had been in anyone for a very long while.

  As we continued to drive, the colors appeared to get brighter and more intense. Rowan found the exit to Gold Creek and steered into the parking lot by the lake. We left the car and, after stretching our legs a bit, started out on the short hike. The weather was in the low fifties, with slight winds that made it feel more like the low forties. I was glad I’d bundled up.

  After I stumbled on a twig, Rowan took my hand and we started walking at an easy pace. Unlike my mother, who would have been able to identify every tree, I was sadly at a loss. It didn’t matter, as I was more interested in the company than a horticultural study.

  We walked in silence, because the majesty of what we were seeing had that kind of impact on us. It was like walking into an old European church—we were that much in awe.

  “A season,” I said in almost a whisper, breaking the silence. “It’s more than a change in the weather.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was just thinking about this beautiful season of autumn, and how there are other seasons, too, like different seasons in our lives. Like this season I’m in right now: It’s a new one for me, with my youngest in college. I’m living alone now for the first time. Before I married Kyle, I lived at home, then in a dorm, and later shared an apartment. I’ve always had someone with me.”

  “Do you mind being alone?”

  “I…I don’t know. I haven’t quite figured it out yet. I have a nook where I sit in my bedroom that looks out over Elliott Bay, and I love to spend time there and look at the water and think.”

  “Happy thoughts, I hope?”

  “Some are, for sure. But sometimes, I’ll admit, I sit and do nothing but worry. Other times, I read. In the spring, the sun comes in that window and all I’ll do is linger there with my eyes closed and soak in the sunshine.”

  “Seasons,” Rowan reflected thoughtfully. “You’re right. We all have seasons, don’t we?”

  “We do.” We had reached the edges of the lake. It was serene and still, picture-perfect.

  “Jenna?” Rowan whispered, making my name a question.

  I glanced up at him, waiting, wondering.

  “I would very much like to kiss you.”

  Smiling, I said, “I’d very much like it if you did.”

  Leaning down toward me, Rowan gently pressed his lips to mine in a tender kiss as though he half expected me to change my mind. I raised my arms and circled his neck, letting him know that this was what I wanted, too. Immediately, he deepened the kiss. What began as a gentle touch of lips quickly grew into an explosive exploration. We kissed once, twice, with each kiss growing in intensity. By the time we broke apart, I wasn’t entirely certain I could remember my name.

  CHAPTER 16

  Maureen

  I hadn’t spoken to Logan since the disastrous first date at the sports bar. I knew he continued to work at the same construction project, because I’d seen him when I’d met Tori for lunch. To the best of my knowledge, he hadn’t stopped by the library. If he had, then he’d taken steps to avoid me. It shouldn’t bother me. I was perfectly content with my life exactly the way it was. I’d let that mantra run through my mind every time I felt a regret, which I hated to admit was often.

  Once a month I was required to work late on Thursday night. The late shifts were on a rotation basis and it was my turn. I didn’t mind. Those who came into the library in the evenings were a different breed of reader. Many were students, whom I enjoyed helping.

  I was busy assisting an eighth-grader in finding what he needed to complete his homework assignment when I sensed something wasn’t right. I had a sixth sense about such things. Last Thursday evening, I’d heard that someone had purposely pulled the fire alarm. It had been a nightmare for the staff to get everyone out of the building, only to learn it had all been a hoax.

  A restlessness swept over me. After all the years there, I knew the entire library intimately, and I had the ability to sense when something was amiss. The vibe of the room, the tone of whispers. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was that alerted me this time, but I could feel it.

  Returning to my desk, I instantly knew what it was, or, rather, who it was. Logan was in my section, leaning his backside against the closest bookshelf with his arms crossed over his chest.

  My mouth went as dry as the Mojave Desert. My heart felt like it was about to pound straight out of my chest and hop across the floor. My steps slowed as I approached him.

  For the longest moment, neither one of us spoke.

  Logan finally broke the ice. “I’m returning one of the books.”

  “Which book?” I asked, although I was well aware of the last two books I’d recommended.

  “This one. Worst book I’ve ever read.”

  It didn’t surprise me when he handed over the espionage title.

  “You finished it?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, splaying his fingers through his thick head of hair. “Wasted several nights reading it.”

  “Books are as unique as those w
ho read them. You weren’t obligated to finish it, especially if you didn’t enjoy it.”

  “First off, I couldn’t suspend my disbelief in this crazy, convoluted plot. I knew how it would end before I finished the second chapter.”

  I didn’t tell him, but the same thing had happened to me; I’d figured it out by the fifth chapter. “I don’t understand why you continued to read a book that didn’t hold your interest.”

  “You liked it enough to suggest it, so I wanted to give it a chance.”

  “What does my recommendation have to do with anything?” I asked. I shifted my eyes away from him, unable to look at him. He looked good, and it was hard for me not to stare. Instead of his construction coveralls, he wore jeans and a button-up shirt, and casual leather shoes rather than his steel-toed boots. It felt like I hadn’t seen him in an eternity. I hadn’t been willing to admit how much I’d missed our talks, especially around the books we’d both read.

  “If you enjoyed it,” he continued, “then I felt certain the book had to have at least one redeeming aspect.”

  “It’s been one of our most popular titles all summer long. It’s a New York Times bestseller.”

  “Big deal.”

  “That is a big deal,” I argued. “When the title was first released, the waiting list for the book was well over a hundred patrons.”

  “That’s supposed to impress me?”

  “It should. It tells you other readers were eager to—”

  “I don’t care about other readers,” he said, cutting me off. “I want to know what you think.”

  I’d purposely selected that title to get his opinion, though he didn’t know my intentions. The book was popular. There’d been a lot of hype about it even before it was published. The library had been given an uncorrected proof before the publication date and I’d had a chance to read it, one of the first in the library to do so. I hadn’t wanted to admit that I’d been disappointed with the story. Like Logan, I caught on to the plot twist quickly.