Window on the Bay

by Debbie Macomber

  “Please.” I wanted to ask him why he’d come, and suspected he intended to confront me, seeing that I hadn’t answered any of his text messages.

  As I turned away to pour Rowan’s coffee, I heard the doorbell ring, and Tom began to greet other guests. Trying to gain control of my pounding heart, I dragged in a shuddering breath and headed toward Rowan with his coffee.

  “Did you enjoy the charity event?” he asked.

  “It was a lovely evening.”

  When I went to give Rowan the coffee, he put his hand over mine. “Was it, Jenna?”

  As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t lie. “I had a knot in my stomach the entire time.”

  “I did, too,” Rowan said in a near whisper. “Will you be seeing Rich again?”

  While it was none of his business, again I found I could only speak the truth. “No.”

  Rowan released a tight breath and offered me a small, grateful smile. I briefly closed my eyes because I found it hard to resist this man who had become so very dear to me.

  “Allie tells me there’s a problem between you and Paul,” Rowan said next.

  “You talked to Allie? When? Why?” I hadn’t realized my daughter had dragged Rowan into this.

  “I’ll tell you about that later. I want to know what’s going on with Paul.” His concern was genuine.

  Part of me wanted to refuse to involve him in a matter that was none of his business. Another part yearned to seek his advice. “It’s nothing…I’m sure it will all work itself out in no time.”

  The concern on his face told me he wasn’t going to accept that. “Jenna, tell me.” He gripped hold of my hand with both of his, refusing to let go, his eyes imploring mine. “What’s happened?”

  At his touch, my entire body felt like a bolt of electricity had shot through me, and I automatically stepped back, withdrawing my hand, although he was reluctant to release it. I didn’t know what Allie had told him. As soon as I was able to corner her, I most definitely intended to ask.

  “Paul isn’t speaking to me at the moment.”

  The doorbell again. I could hear Mom’s guests greet her. While this was her birthday party, I was the host, along with my brother. Tom was busy talking with an old friend from high school. Ted and Tom had been on the football team together.

  “Excuse me, please. I need to greet the guests.”

  “You can explain everything later.”

  Concern and worry clouded his eyes, and I sensed his unwillingness to delay our conversation. I hadn’t intended to tell him anything. This was my problem, not Rowan’s. My son and I would find a way to resolve it together.

  After I finished delivering the food trays to the dining room table, I saw that Maureen had arrived. I was disappointed to see that she’d come alone, without Logan. I was looking forward to meeting him. Something must be wrong, especially if the sadness radiating off her face was any indication. I’d sensed when we briefly chatted the day before that things were amiss. I’d asked about Logan and her answer had been vague. Because I’d been wrapped up in my own troubles, I’d let the subject slide. Not only had I failed as a mother—now I’d apparently hit rock bottom as a friend, too.

  I hurried back into the kitchen for more mints and nuts, and when I returned I saw that Mrs. Torres from next door was sitting next to Mom, involved in conversation, chatting and laughing.

  “Jenna, honey,” Mom said, stretching out her arm to waylay me. “Would you make certain Mr. Bones has food in his dish?”

  In the middle of her seventy-fifth birthday party, my mother was concerned about that cat. Unable to refuse, I did as she asked, and noticed that Allie’s boyfriend, Wyatt, had made an appearance. I didn’t expect he’d stay long but was pleased when he took a seat. I grinned when I saw that he filled his plate twice and caught him looking longingly at the birthday cake.

  Mrs. Torres left Mom’s side to help herself to the appetizers and returned with a plate for Mom. Then I noticed Rowan and Allie seated next to each other in the corner of the room, their heads together. Whatever they were discussing seemed to be of a serious nature.

  I knew Allie was anxious for me to talk to Mackensie, and seeing her talking so intently with Rowan had me wondering, until I caught sight of Maureen making small talk with Louanne. My sister-in-law got up to replenish her coffee, and while she was away, I strolled over to Maureen.

  “All right, girl, what gives?” I said, sidling up to her. “What’s happening with you and Logan? You said he was coming. What’s the deal?”

  “We…We had a parting of ways.”

  I frowned, curious as to what had changed. To this point, their relationship had sounded promising. Green lights all the way.

  She stared at the wall, her back straight and her features grim. “I won’t be seeing him any longer.”

  “What?” I cried, attracting the attention of nearly everyone. Lowering my voice, I added, “Isn’t this all rather sudden? Something must have happened.”

  “Not here,” Maureen insisted. “Not now.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. I could see that while she’d tried to make light of their split, she was hurting.

  “Okay, I’ll agree that now probably isn’t the best time, but you will tell me everything after the party.” No way was I letting her escape without explaining what had happened. Yes, I had my own troubles and they were weighing heavily upon my heart, but I couldn’t bear to think that Maureen had been hurt, especially when everything had seemed to be going so well between her and Logan.

  “Not today,” Maureen said, shaking her head. “I don’t intend to stay much longer…I’m here to wish your mom a happy birthday and that’s it.”

  “You sure? I don’t think the party will go on too late.”

  “I’m sure. Besides, I want to check on Tori. She’s suffering with morning sickness that is lasting far longer than morning.”

  As I recalled, it’d been the same when Maureen was pregnant. She was sick every morning and well into the afternoons for the first five months of the pregnancy. I hoped it didn’t last that long for Tori.

  “Once I’m home I want to find a big, fat hole where I can bury my head.”

  My friend needed a hug, and I gave her one. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No sorrier than I am,” she said.

  “Are you sure you won’t stay?”

  “I’m sure. I’m not in a partying mood. Besides, I see Rowan is here. Looks like you have a story to tell, too.”

  “I’ll call you later,” I said, before returning to the kitchen.

  For the rest of the afternoon, I sensed Rowan watching me. He made polite conversation with Mom’s neighbors and friends, but I knew parties didn’t much interest him. Yet I knew he came because he genuinely cared for my mother. And the only reason he stuck around was because of me.

  I knew it. He knew it. And my mother knew it.

  * * *

  —

  By the time the festivities were winding down and the cake dished up and served, I could see that Mom was exhausted. The guests seemed to notice, too, and said their good-byes. My brother and his family had already departed for the drive home to Oregon. While Allie helped Mom into her bedroom to rest, Rowan joined me, collecting the dirty dishes and carting them into the kitchen.

  “You don’t need to do that,” I said.

  “I know.”

  “Mom,” Allie said, calling into the kitchen from the living room. “Wyatt and I are leaving now.”

  With Mom in bed and Allie leaving with Wyatt, that left me alone with Rowan. I started to battle a sense of panic. I silently pleaded with my daughter to stick around, but my entreaty was ignored.

  Allie hugged me and whispered close to my ear, “Paul wants me to call him.”

  This was welcome news. Allie knew how much I regretted the last conversation I’d had with Paul
. “Give your brother my love,” I whispered back.

  “Everything is going to work out, Mom—don’t worry.”

  She seemed confident, and I could only pray she was right. I knew how hard it was for Paul to tell me of the changes he wanted to make, and I hoped he’d forgive my overreaction.

  I saw Allie to the door and watched her race to where Wyatt was waiting in his small Honda. When I returned to the kitchen, Rowan had the dishwasher open and had rinsed the cake plates, stacking them inside.

  “You didn’t need to do that,” I repeated.

  “I believe we’ve already been over this, Jenna.”

  “Please, you can leave. I’ve got this covered.” His presence made me uncomfortable.

  “I don’t fully understand what’s going on with you and your son, but what I do know is that you could use a hug. Come here. This isn’t about what’s happening between you and me. This is about you.”

  He held open his arms. I should have resisted. I should’ve sent him on his way. I found I couldn’t. I walked into his embrace like a homing pigeon heading to where it knew it belonged. Right away I was engulfed in warmth and love. He didn’t speak. Didn’t ask for an explanation. He didn’t offer me reassurances. All he did was hold me.

  That was more than enough. It was all that I needed. All that I craved. I had missed him more than I was willing to admit. More than I realized. I felt more at peace than I had since that last conversation with my son. With Rowan’s arms around me, the heaviness that had weighed down my heart lifted. I clung to him like he’d rescued me from a raging fire.

  Burrowing my face against Rowan’s chest, I breathed in the woodsy, citrus scent of his cologne. It felt like heaven in his arms, yet I mentally resisted, fearing what it could mean. I tightened my grip around him and he rubbed his chin across the top of my head, mussing my hair. Nothing could have made me break away from him, even a nuclear bomb threat and loudspeakers blaring to immediately seek shelter.

  When I realized what I was doing, how firm my grip was around him, I eased my hold and said, “I don’t know that I can trust you.”

  “You’ve made that clear numerous times.”

  “Have not,” I insisted. More likely, the truth was that I wasn’t sure I could trust myself. I wanted to believe he was everything I thought he was instead of the deadbeat father.

  His body shook with a silent laugh. “Oh, but you have.”

  I buried my face in his chest, savoring his comfort.

  “I’ll go, if that’s what you want.”

  “I think you should,” I said, and then added, “But please don’t.”

  “All I ask is that you hear me out. I know it sounds bad. I admit I’ve made mistakes and I could have been a better father. But I have always loved and supported my daughter and done everything I knew how to be a part of her life. If you can’t believe that, then believe this: I love you, Jenna Boltz.”

  I desperately wanted to believe him. Fighting my feelings for him was nearly impossible. Repeatedly he’d asked me to hear his side and I’d put it off. Now it seemed that Allie, my own daughter, was ready to defend him.

  “Please, don’t say that.”

  “That I love you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it so hard to accept?”

  “Yes,” I said, and then quickly changed my answer. “No.”

  I wanted to tell him not to talk of his feelings for me. I couldn’t deal with what was happening between us, and between Paul and me at the same time. I didn’t want him to care, didn’t want to see this tender, gentle side of him. That made everything ten times more difficult.

  “Your daughter knows how deeply I feel about you, otherwise I don’t think she’d be willing to help as much as she has. Mackensie and I are talking, and that means the world to me.”

  Allie had done that? I didn’t know what to say—it was hard to think straight when Rowan was looking at me with his heart in his eyes. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed me. I’ll say one thing about this man. He knows how to kiss. The way his lips moved over mine made me weak in the knees. The electricity we shared was magnetic. I’m sure there’s a technical term for this, but I couldn’t think of it. All I knew was that with that one kiss, I felt like we could light up an entire city block.

  “You do this to me every single time,” I whispered.

  He gave me a puzzled look, not realizing what I was saying.

  “You rock my world.”

  His smile was huge. “I could say the same about you. You rock mine.”

  I bounced my forehead against his solid chest. “Please tell me what Allie said about Paul.”

  “Nothing she hasn’t already told you.”

  “You two chatted a long time.”

  “We did,” he agreed. “She also gave me some good advice about Mackensie.”

  Sometimes I didn’t give my daughter the credit she deserved.

  “You’ve done an excellent job raising your children, Jenna.”

  I hid my face and wanted to cry all over again. If I was such a good mother, why wasn’t my son willing to talk to me?

  CHAPTER 32

  Jenna

  “Thanks for meeting with me, Ms. Boltz,” Mackensie Nelson/Lancaster said. She sat at my kitchen table with her hands neatly folded in her lap. Allie sat next to her. After seeing Rowan at the party, I’d become eager to meet with Mackensie, as Allie had asked me to do.

  “I’m not sure where to start?” Mackensie asked, looking to Allie.

  “Start at the beginning,” Allie urged her friend.

  Mackensie nodded. “This fall, I transferred to the University of Washington from Santa Monica and met Allie the first week in a class I needed. We hit it off right away. We were both new and seemed to share a lot in common.”

  “We’ve had a lot of fun together,” Allie threw in.

  I gritted my teeth. “You mean like frat parties and tattoos?”

  “Mom,” Allie said and groaned. “You’re distracting Mackensie from what’s important.”

  Personally, I considered my daughter inking her body to be significant, but she was right. Now wasn’t the time to discuss that.

  “The reason I wanted to change schools was because of my father,” Mackensie explained. “He hadn’t been a part of my life, and I wanted the chance to see what kind of person he was.”

  I bristled just thinking about fathers abandoning their children.

  “I sent him text messages and…and I was manipulative. I didn’t let him know I was living in the area. I intended to but didn’t. I’ll explain more about that later.”

  “Okay.” I could see that Mackensie was nervous. I noticed that she had Rowan’s eyes.

  “Allie’s friendship has meant a lot to me.” Mackensie brushed her long hair out of her face. “Allie mentioned you were a nurse at the same hospital as my dad. I thought I would learn more about him through you and her, and I did.”

  From the look on Allie’s face, this information came as a surprise to her.

  “It wasn’t until later that I learned that both Allie and I were raised without our fathers being part of our growing-up years. Allie’s experience was different from mine, though.”

  “Different?” I asked.

  Mackensie nodded. “My mom had men drift in and out of our lives for as long as I can remember. Allie said you were always there for her and her brother, and that you put them first. It was never that way with my mom.”

  I was astounded that Allie had paid attention to the choices I’d made to be sure I was there for my children.

  “I watched how my mom dealt with each new relationship,” Mackensie continued. “When the breakup came, and it inevitably did, Mom got vindictive. She would do everything she could to make that man sorry for leaving her. If she thought being spiteful would win them back, it didn�
��t work.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say.

  “I have long suspected that she deliberately kept my father out of my life. I can remember packages arriving on my birthday and Christmas, thinking they were for me, but Mom never let me open them. She would throw them in the trash.”

  Allie looked over at me.

  “Once, when I was around eight or nine, before she woke up, I dug one of those packages out of the garbage and opened it. Inside was a beautiful doll and a letter from my dad, saying how much he loved me.”

  “Did you keep the doll?” Allie asked her.

  Mackensie nodded. “I did. Mom never said anything, but after that, no other packages arrived. At least none that I saw.”

  “Didn’t you ever ask about your father?” I asked.

  “Sure, lots of times, but her answers were always the same. She claimed he was a selfish bastard and wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “And you believed her?”

  “Yes, except every time I looked at that doll, I had to wonder. Which is why I’m in Seattle. I needed to find out for myself.”

  “But why…”

  Mackensie hung her head. “I know what you’re going to ask. You want to know why I didn’t let him know I was here.”

  “Why didn’t you? And why did you change your name?”

  “Mom changed my name to her maiden name. I didn’t even know my surname was Lancaster until I saw my birth certificate when I was eighteen. When I asked Mom about it, she said my father didn’t deserve for me to have his name.”

  “But why not tell him you were in town?”

  Mackensie kept her eyes lowered and nervously picked at her nails. “I was afraid.”

  “Afraid?”

  “Afraid that he might be everything my mother claimed he was. I sent him the first text message and he sounded pleased to hear from me, but I wasn’t sure I should believe him, so I asked him for money. Not a lot…you know, sort of a test.”

  “Did he give it to you?” Allie asked.

  She nodded. “It’s how I was able to pay for my tattoo.”