Window on the Bay

by Debbie Macomber

“Why’d you go in the first place?” someone hollered out.

  “No choice. Got roped into it. Like I said, never again. A ballet is the last place you’ll catch me.”

  My heart was pounding so hard my ears rang with the heavy thud of the beat.

  “I bet it was that prude librarian who took you.”

  Prude? I couldn’t believe my ears, and I waited for Logan to defend me, to silence the one who’d referred to me in such unflattering terms.

  “Come on, guys…” Logan pleaded, without getting the result he wanted.

  “You still seeing her?” the woman who came into the bar with him asked. “I thought you said you were finished with her.”

  If he was finished with me, he’d failed to tell me. Maybe I was too dense to realize what was happening. My chest tightened, and I found it hard to breathe.

  Unwilling to listen to any more of this dreadful, disrespectful conversation, I placed money on the table and grabbed my purse. Hurt and angry, I walked directly over to Logan and his friends.

  “I don’t know if Logan is finished with me or not,” I said, loud enough for those in the vicinity to hear. “But I think you’ll all be happy to know that I am finished with him.”

  A shocked silence followed. I gave the group my best stern-librarian look and walked out of the bar, holding my head high and my shoulders straight. Twice now I’d made an idiot of myself in that same sports bar. Would I never learn? It felt as if my entire body was trembling with the shock of what I’d seen and heard. I hurried away, speed-walking as fast as my feet would take me.

  I hadn’t gone far when I heard Logan call my name and saw him racing after me. This had happened last time, and he apparently seemed to think a quick explanation would change the outcome. That had worked once, but it wouldn’t again.

  “Maureen, wait up.”

  I wasn’t listening and picked up my pace.

  “Maureen, please.”

  It didn’t take him long to catch up with me. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked alongside me.

  “Don’t be upset. It’s just the guys razzing me about the ballet. It’s stupid stuff, and I apologize.”

  I pinched my lips together, holding on to the hurt because I didn’t know what else to do with it. Lashing out at him wouldn’t help me, and so I said nothing.

  “This wasn’t about you.”

  Those jokes might have been directed at him, but they hurt me.

  He sighed heavily. “I guess this is what’s known as the silent treatment. Don’t you know that I love you, Maureen?”

  How could he say this when he’d just allowed his friend to talk about me like that? Why hadn’t he corrected the woman coworker when she’d said that she’d heard he was finished with me? I wanted to demand answers, but my throat had closed up tight.

  “All right.” His voice was full of frustration with my lack of response. “If that’s the way you want it, so be it.”

  That he was so willing to let me walk away spoke volumes.

  His steps slowed, and with a determined voice, he added, “I’ll tell you what. When you’re ready to take back that part about being done with me, let me know. Until then, it’s over.”

  Over. I blinked hard. I was angry now. Good and angry. If that was the way he wanted it, then fine. Just fine.

  CHAPTER 30

  Jenna

  It felt as if lately I’d been on a roller-coaster ride. I sat by my window on the bay and looked out over the city and the water. The sky was steel gray with the threat of a storm; the waters were dark and turbulent, much like my thoughts.

  Rowan had stopped texting me, and I should’ve been grateful. I shouldn’t want to hear from him, as each message had torn at my heart. I’d read and reread each one a dozen times, and each time I struggled with giving in and listening to his excuses. Excuses, explanations, and justifications. He probably had any number of reasons why he’d stayed out of his daughter’s life. The same as Kyle had. I was afraid to listen, afraid if I did that I would give in and believe him because I so badly wanted him to have a valid excuse. Where he was concerned, I was weak and I couldn’t allow myself to fall in love with a man it would require me to put blinders on to respect him.

  One blessing was that I hadn’t run into Rowan while at the hospital, and for that I was relieved. I don’t know what I would have said or done if I had, and, frankly, I didn’t want to find out.

  My son’s decision to leave school weighed heavily on my mind. The shock of his confession had thrown me off guard, and I’d overreacted. Now I was paying the price. If Paul didn’t want to continue his engineering studies, I could understand and accept that decision. When he’d said he wanted to go into the same field as his grandfather, I’d been pleased. My dad would have been so proud. In retrospect, I realized that had been an emotional decision and one he now found unsuitable for his skill set. Although he was a junior, changing majors shouldn’t be that difficult.

  If Paul decided to go into the hospitality industry, I wouldn’t stand in his way. This was his life, and while the career choice wasn’t what I wanted for him, he had to be his own person.

  After checking online, I saw that Washington State University had an excellent program in that field. While on-the-job training was all well and good, a degree in his chosen field would be helpful in the future, especially if the relationship with this Owen person changed. Now all I had to do was get my son to listen to reason.

  My phone rang, and I recognized the number. It was Rich Gardner. I wasn’t in the mood to talk. For two rings I debated if I should answer or not. I didn’t feel much like talking to him, but in the end I gave in and answered.

  “Hello.”

  “Jenna. Glad I caught you. How are you?”

  “I’m doing fine.” No need to mention my current troubles.

  He sounded upbeat and happy. “I got the invite to your mom’s birthday party and thought I’d RSVP personally. How’s she doing?”

  I switched the phone to the other side of my head and leaned back, bracing myself against the wall. “Mom’s doing great. She’s getting back into her old life; thanks for asking.”

  “She showed real determination while at Parkview and inspired others around her during her stay with us. I am using your mother as an example of what can be achieved when properly motivated.”

  Mom would be happy to hear that. “If you’re able to come to the party, you can tell her yourself.”

  “I hate to miss the party, but I have a previous engagement.”

  “I’m sorry. Mom wanted to personally thank you for the excellent care she received while at Parkview.”

  He hesitated for a moment. “I have a question for you.”

  “Sure, go ahead.” I had a feeling there was another reason for his call but didn’t want to be presumptuous. He was going to ask me out again. This would be the third time, and if I declined, the message would be crystal clear.

  “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes here, so if I am, please let me know.”

  “Of course.” This was his less-than-subtle way of asking me if there was someone else.

  “There’s a charity art gallery event tomorrow evening, and I would very much like for you to go with me.” He mentioned the name of the artist, William Benson. I’d recently read an article about him and his work and was interested.

  “No pressure, Jenna.”

  Viewing the work of the man I’d heard so much about strongly tempted me; still, I hesitated, not wanting to lead Rich into believing I was interested in dating him. On the other hand, if I wasn’t at the art show, I’d be sitting home, feeling sorry for myself, weighed down by my thoughts of Paul and Rowan.

  When I didn’t immediately respond, he added, “It’s going to be a formal event with champagne and appetizers. It starts at six. I need to make an appearance, bu
t it isn’t necessary that I stay long.”

  “I’ve read about Benson’s work,” I said, hesitating still.

  He waited patiently while an internal battle waged inside me. The thought of spending another night home, stewing and stressing, was what led to my decision. “I think I’d enjoy the art show, Rich. Thanks for thinking of me.”

  He paused, as if I’d surprised him.

  “Wonderful,” he said enthusiastically.

  He went over the details of when he’d pick me up, and I told him I’d look forward to the evening.

  * * *

  —

  The night of the charity event, I put on my little black dress that I reserved for more formal dates. I spent extra time on my makeup, hoping to conceal the fine lines around my eyes from lack of sleep.

  Rich was punctual, arriving at the house on time.

  “You look beautiful, as always,” he said, greeting me with a huge grin.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself.” He was a fine figure of a man, tall and debonair.

  He led me out to his car and opened the passenger door for me: the perfect gentleman. It’d been raining on and off all day, and the evening chill had set in. Not unusual weather for this time of year, although my spirits would have appreciated a sunny day.

  The art gallery wasn’t one I recognized, although, to be fair, I didn’t frequent a lot of galleries. My budget didn’t have any wiggle room for expensive art. And when I say expensive, I’m not joking. The first piece I saw was listed at twenty-five-thousand dollars. I stared at it for a long time, seeing nothing more than swirling colors with no distinguishable pattern, which was what Benson was best known for creating.

  “It’s a masterpiece,” Rich said, coming to stand at my side. He handed me a champagne flute.

  Tilting my head to one side and then the other, I tried to see it through his eyes. Perhaps it was my mood, but I got nothing out of this painting. From my perspective, the artist had been having a bad day and took his mood out on this innocent canvas.

  “You don’t agree?” Rich asked.

  “You apparently have a more appreciative and knowledgeable eye than I do.”

  “Art is one of my passions.”

  “You collect, then?”

  “I do. I’ve purchased several investment pieces through the years. Some have escalated ten times in value and others not so much. I don’t always make the best decisions. I buy what appeals to me most and hope for the best.”

  “It’s sort of a retirement fund, then?”

  He thought about it and nodded. “I guess you could say that.”

  He led me to another part of the gallery. The work there featured lesser-known artists, those less modernist and more to my liking.

  “I’ve never married,” he said casually, “and have more discretionary funds for such investments.”

  “You’ve never married?” This surprised me, seeing how attractive and successful he was. I’d imagined women flocking to him and suspected my appeal was that I hadn’t. “Have you never been in love?”

  Sadness bled into his eyes. “Yes. It’s years ago now. I met an artist soon after I graduated from college. Jeannie was talented beyond anyone I’d ever met before or since. Unfortunately, she died in a freak accident when the space she rented to paint in was hit by a tree in a windstorm and the roof collapsed.”

  Oh my. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you, Jenna. My one regret was that I never told her how much she meant to me. How much I loved her. I was young and foolish, and I assumed we had all the time in the world. It was a painful lesson. Afterward, I never found anyone I could love who was her equal.”

  “I imagine her artwork hangs on your walls.”

  “It does. It’s worth far more to me in sentimental value. I’ll never sell it, although I could probably retire early if I did.”

  Regrets. We all lived with them. I know I did.

  “Your glass is empty. Let me get you another.”

  I would have normally declined, but he didn’t give me an option. He briskly took the flute from my hand and disappeared. Telling me about the one love of his life seemed to have brought a barrage of painful memories.

  The crowd was growing, moving from one part of the gallery to the next. To my surprise, I recognized several faces. Rich hadn’t mentioned the name of the charity, and I had to assume it had something to do with the medical field, as several of those attending were physicians.

  How had I been so oblivious? Nearly everyone in attendance came from local hospitals. Rowan could be right around the next corner. My pulse accelerated. Right away, I decided I would look for Rich and suggest now might be a good time to leave. Earlier, Rich had mentioned that he only needed to make an appearance. As it was, we’d stayed nearly forty-five minutes.

  I went to find him and came face-to-face with Rowan.

  He seemed as shocked to see me as I was to see him.

  “Jenna.”

  I took a deep breath and froze. “Hello, Rowan.”

  His eyes steadily held mine, full of questions. He looked from left to right, as if seeking out my companion.

  It was getting harder to breathe normally. Every part of my heart longed to reach out to him. I couldn’t. He was right, I’d made my choice, painful as it was.

  “You’re here with someone?”

  I nodded.

  He stiffened and said nothing. Really, what was there to say?

  Unable to maintain eye contact, I looked down.

  Rich reappeared then with two champagne flutes. “Here you are,” he said cheerfully. “Rowan,” he greeted. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “It’s a worthy cause.”

  “Yes, and like I was telling Jenna, art is one of my passions.” He placed his arm around my waist.

  Rowan’s gaze went to his arm, then to my eyes and back to Rich. He nodded once to Rich. “Have a good evening,” he said as he turned away.

  I didn’t think I’d ever be able to forget the pain in Rowan’s eyes as he left me standing next to Rich Gardner.

  CHAPTER 31

  Jenna

  “Mom?” Allie’s voice rang through the house. “Where are you?”

  I stuck my head out my bedroom door. “Upstairs, getting ready.” My head was buzzing with everything I still needed to do for Mom’s party. I’d taken today off for the party, and Tom and Louanne were in town and had stayed overnight at my place. They’d given me a helping hand all day yesterday to prepare. They’d left to head over to Mom’s place, as their kids were about to arrive from Oregon. Tom and Louanne needed to get back in time for work in the morning and planned to leave before the cleanup began. I’d appreciated everything they’d done to make this party a success.

  Allie raced up the stairs. “I had a long talk with Mackensie. You need to hear what she said.”

  “Now?” I cried. “It’s Grams’ birthday party this afternoon.” Allie knew that as well as I did.

  “Not right this minute,” she said, as if I was a dunce, “but soon, okay? It’s important.”

  “Okay, I will. I promise.” I’d hoped to talk to Mackensie about her relationship with her father. I’d hesitated, unwilling to put Allie’s friend in the middle of what was going on between Rowan and me.

  “When you talk to her, you’ll see that not everything is the way it seems,” Allie insisted. “Just hear her out.”

  “I said I would, only I can’t do it today.” I had enough on my mind. This party had turned into a lot more work than I’d thought it would be.

  I noticed the time, and a sense of panic took hold. “We need to leave,” I said, while mentally reviewing the list of what had to be done once we arrived. “Do you want to ride with me?” I wasn’t sure who’d dropped her off at the house, but assumed it was either Wyatt o
r Mackensie, probably Wyatt.

  “Sure.”

  When we arrived, I found Tom and Louanne busy following Mom’s instructions. My mother wanted everything to be as perfect as she could make it when hosting company. I sequestered myself in the kitchen, getting the appetizer and snack trays ready.

  When the doorbell rang, I glanced at the clock. I wasn’t expecting anyone to arrive this early. I stiffened when I heard Mom greet Rowan. Although I knew he’d received an invitation, I hadn’t expected him to come. Seeing how early he was, I had to assume he’d stopped by to give Mom a birthday greeting and then leave.

  “Rowan,” Mom cried out. “How good of you to come.”

  You’d have thought Rowan was her long-lost son by how excited she sounded. I could only partially hear their conversation after Mom introduced him to my brother and sister-in-law. Next, I heard Rowan ask about me, and then Mom explaining that I was in the kitchen.

  My first thought was to remain exactly where I was, but I couldn’t hide in the kitchen for the entire party. It was ridiculous to try to avoid him, and I refused to do it. Taking the filled trays with me, I came through the swinging door, forcing myself to smile.

  He looked my way and I looked his. Seeing him again so soon after the scene in the art gallery left me feeling like I’d walked face-first into a brick wall. It took a moment to right myself emotionally before I could manufacture a welcoming smile. It’d been foolish on my part to think he no longer affected me.

  Rowan spoke first. “Jenna.”

  “Rowan,” I returned in kind. I turned my back to him while setting down the trays, and briefly closed my eyes as I steadied my heart.

  My evening with Rich had been pleasant. I’d enjoyed our time together at the gallery. The contrast between Rowan and Rich was striking. Rich was entertaining and interesting. Polished and charming. Rowan was quiet and intense. Thoughtful and introspective.

  “Jenna, please offer Rowan something to drink.”

  “Coffee?” I said, doing as my mother asked.