Janice hesitated. “I was thinking we could have dinner one night. My treat.”
Dinner? Her treat? No way. “I appreciate the invitation, but I don’t think it’s a good idea that we be seen together outside the office.” He wasn’t handing Rosie any ammunition or giving her one more excuse to toss accusations in his face. Unfortunately, living the way they did, moving in and out of the house, made confronting each other inevitable. Zach wasn’t happy about it and he suspected Rosie wasn’t, either.
“Maybe some other time,” Janice said, sounding hopeful.
“Maybe,” Zach agreed, but it wasn’t going to happen.
Rosie had claimed months earlier that Janice and Zach were having an affair. She was being ridiculous and had refused to believe him when he said they weren’t. Now he was beginning to wonder if Janice had been chasing after him. He hated the thought that he’d been played for a fool. If that was the case, then it was Rosie’s doing. She was the one so ready to leap to conclusions, so eager to find fault with him—so willing to abandon him to Janice’s attentions. Rosie had acted like a jealous shrew when she had no reason. It irritated him whenever he thought about it. Not that he was blaming Janice for their divorce. His marriage had been ailing for a long time before his assistant appeared on the scene.
Frowning as he walked out of the office, Zach refused to let his mind wander down the familiar paths of guilt and blame. His marriage was dead, and rehashing unresolved issues between him and Rosie would do no good.
Fifteen minutes later, Zach drove into the garage at 311 Pelican Court, the custom-built house he’d helped design. Together he and Rosie had pored over house plans for months on end. Despite this inconvenient arrangement, he felt grateful to the judge for her unconventional edict, since it meant he didn’t have to completely give up a place he loved.
To Zach’s surprise, the house was quiet when he came in through the kitchen door.
“Where is everyone?” he called as he set his briefcase on the counter.
“Here, Dad,” Eddie shouted from the family room. He was lying in front of the television on his stomach, manipulating the joystick to his video game. “Allison’s got a visitor in her bedroom,” he said, looking up at Zach. “It’s a boy.”
“What?” The word exploded out of Zach before he could stop it. He’d see about this. Allison knew the rules, and Rule Number One was no kids at the house without an adult present. No boys in her room, either. Ever.
Eddie nodded in the direction of the hallway. “Check it out.”
Zach didn’t need a second invitation. He practically ran to Allison’s bedroom; it was the fastest he’d moved in weeks. He pounded on the closed door, then flung it open. His daughter sat on the edge of her bed with her arms entwined around the neck of a skinny boy with long stringy hair badly in need of washing. He wore a black leather jacket and motorcycle boots that laced up to his knees. A studded leather dog collar circled his neck.
“Dad.” Allison’s eyes grew huge. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here three days a week. Who’s this?” He narrowed his gaze on the pimply-faced youth.
“This is Ryan Wilson. Ryan, this is my dad.”
“Ryan,” Zach said. He reached for the boy’s arm and jerked him to an upright position. “Nice to meet you.” Without taking a breath, he continued. “However, we have rules in this house and that includes no boys in my daughter’s bedroom.” He loomed over the teenager, who blinked up at him, face paling.
“Daddy,” Allison cried.
Zach ignored her. “If you want to see my daughter again, I suggest you abide by my rules. Do we understand each other, Ryan?” he asked pointedly.
Ryan nodded.
“Good.” He held out his hand. “Well, goodbye, Ryan. I assume you know your way to the front door?”
Ryan made a beeline out of the bedroom.
Allison was on her feet now, too, her expression one of outrage. “How dare you!”
“Oh, I dare, Allison, and I’ll dare a whole lot more. What the hell do you think you’re doing bringing a boy into this house without an adult present?”
“I’m an adult.”
Zach nearly laughed out loud. “When you’re living on your own, paying your own expenses, we’ll revisit that issue. As it stands now, you live in my house.” He paused, because technically this wasn’t his house. It belonged to Rosie and him jointly and to the kids.
“I can invite anyone I want into my room.”
Zach glared at her. “Don’t go there, little girl.”
“Little girl?” Indignation shone from her eyes, and her cheeks reddened as she clenched her fists at her sides.
Zach could see this argument was getting out of hand. He was angry and so was Allison. Difficult as it was, they both needed to step back and take a deep breath. “We’ll talk about this after dinner.” He turned and left the room, and heard the door slam a couple of seconds later.
By the time Zach entered the kitchen, he was shaking. He dragged several calming breaths into his lungs and forced his heart to settle down to a normal beat.
“What’s for dinner?” Eddie asked, following him inside.
“Hot dogs,” Zach said. It was convenient, quick and he was in no mood to mess with a casserole. He’d discovered he was quite good at tossing a few ingredients together. He had his failures—notably the ground turkey baked with peas and rice—and his successes. Eddie didn’t seem to care one way or the other. Of the two, Allison was the picky eater.
“We had hot dogs last night.”
Leave it to Rosie to beat him to the punch. “What would you like?” he asked.
Without hesitation, Eddie said, “Spaghetti.”
“Okay.” He searched the refrigerator’s freezer section for hamburger and realized there was none. It was his week to buy groceries, which he should’ve done before he got home. More than likely, that was why Allison had Ryan in her room. She’d expected him to arrive later than normal, but he’d forgotten it was his turn to do the shopping.
“Has Ryan been here before?” he asked. He hated to use his son as a snitch, but he was beginning to think Ryan might be a routine visitor. If so, that was about to stop right now.
Eddie glanced over his shoulder and then nodded.
“Does your mother know?”
Eddie shook his head. “No one did until now.”
Zach patted his son on the back. “What about macaroni and cheese?”
Eddie shrugged. “Are you going to cook the real kind or the kind that comes out of a box?”
“What do we have?” Zach asked, examining the contents of various cupboards. He needed something easy while he decided what to do about Allison. It was clear he’d have to talk to her, and much as he dreaded the idea of calling Rosie, he should probably get her advice before he initiated the big discussion.
“We’ve got grated mozzarella cheese,” Eddie said, peering inside the refrigerator. “That makes the best kind ’cause it melts in the macaroni.”
“Done,” Zach said.
Eddie removed the container of cheese and set it on the counter. “You aren’t going to make me eat green beans with this, are you? Mom does. She’s on this kick about eating vegetables and fresh fruit. It’s disgusting. She won’t let us order pizza, either.”
Zach smiled wanly. “I might let you off just this once.”
Eddie looked appreciative.
“I think I should call your mother,” Zach said, putting a pot of water on the stove.
“She’s not home.”
His son was a fount of information. “She isn’t?”
Eddie beamed him a big smile. “She’s got a date.”
Rosie was out on a date? If so, he wanted to know who with. No one had said anything to him about this. “On a school night?” he asked, hoping for more facts.
Eddie nodded. “That was all she talked about last night. Dad, I’ve got problems with my math homework. Can you help?”
“Sure,” he
said absently. This was great. Just great! Zach was struggling to find something edible to feed his kids. He was the one dealing with his teenage daughter’s rebellion. Eddie needed help with his homework. And his ex-wife was enjoying a night on the town with her new love interest.
There was definitely something wrong with this picture.
Eight
It was a lovely Saturday morning, and the blustery winds of October blew orange and yellow leaves around the waterfront and the Cedar Cove Farmers’ Market. Grace and Olivia meandered down the row between a series of festive booths.
“So, what time do you want to go to the movie?” Olivia asked.
“I was thinking I’d pass this afternoon,” Grace said nonchalantly.
“Oh—” Olivia couldn’t help being disappointed. “How come?”
Grace suddenly became flustered. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, just go to the movie without me,” she cried.
Olivia knew that look. Her friend was up to something and Olivia probably wasn’t going to like it. She stopped at a booth and purchased a loaf of homemade raisin bread, which she tucked into her large straw bag.
“All right, all right, I’ll tell you,” Grace said as though the truth had been tortured out of her.
Olivia didn’t bother to point out that she hadn’t asked.
“Jack’s going to be there.”
That got Olivia’s attention. “Jack?”
“Jack. Remember Jack? He called and asked me to set it up.”
Now, this was downright ridiculous. Jack had phoned her best friend and not her?
“Remember last month when you turned down Stan’s dinner invitation?”
Olivia wasn’t likely to forget. It had caused a rift between her and Stan, but she wasn’t nearly as concerned about her relationship with her ex-husband as she was about her continuing disagreement with Jack.
“Jack was supposed to meet us at the theater the Friday night we went to the movies last month, but at the last minute he couldn’t make it.”
“What’s going on here?” Olivia demanded, although she wasn’t really upset. It was increasingly obvious that she needed all the assistance she could get in the romance department. Not that her friend was any great expert. Grace had her own difficulties, but unfortunately they weren’t the kind that intervention would help.
“Jack covers the Friday-night football games,” Grace reminded her. “Gordie was supposed to go instead, but something came up.”
They continued to stroll through the market, mouths watering at the enticing scent of popping kettle corn carried on the wind. “Jack wasn’t happy about it.” Grace sighed. “Ever since then, he’s been driving me nuts, trying to get me to set up another movie outing, but between your schedule, his and mine—well, it’s getting too crazy to work it all out. I figured I’d just tell you.”
“It’s about time he and I settled this, isn’t it?” Olivia said, eager to patch up her differences with Jack. They’d let their quarrel drag on weeks longer than it should have. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t simply called her, but…well, trust a man to do things the hard way.
“Absolutely,” Grace said emphatically. “You’re both stubborn and headstrong. Now fix it.”
Olivia couldn’t believe her ears. This was Grace speaking? Grace never ordered people about. Obviously she felt strongly about this, and that made Olivia feel good.
Leaves billowed past and leaden gray clouds had begun to darken the sky. It would rain within the hour, she predicted.
“You’re going, aren’t you?”
“How will he know which movie?” Olivia hadn’t even decided what she wanted to see.
“Jack’s a smart man, he’ll figure it out.”
“If he was so smart, he’d—”
“Olivia, are you going to argue with me, or are you going to accept some heartfelt advice and do what I suggest?”
Before she answered, Olivia had a question or two of her own. “What’s happening with you and Cliff?”
Grace sighed again. “Not a whole lot. After Dan was found, I told him I needed time to grieve for my husband. He understood.”
Olivia nodded; that much she knew. “You haven’t seen him in a while.”
“We talk every week. Cliff’s been doing a lot of traveling lately and he’s building a new barn.”
“Why? Is he expanding?”
“Yes. He’s serious about raising quarter horses and he’s increasing his herd. When we spoke last Saturday, he said he’s thinking of hiring a full-time hand.” She began to say something else and stopped, obviously aware of her friend’s ploy. She turned to stare Olivia in the eye. “Are you going to the movies this afternoon or not?”
Olivia shrugged one shoulder.
Grace laughed softly. “You’re going, and judging by the smile on your face, you can hardly wait.”
That was the truth. Olivia wasn’t sure how Jack was supposed to know what showing she planned to attend or which movie, but as Grace had informed her, he’d figure it out.
And Grace, it turned out, knew what she was talking about. No more than five minutes after Olivia had chosen her seat, munching popcorn and waiting for the movie to start, Jack Griffin entered the theater. He looked exactly the same as the last time she’d seen him. He wore his long dark raincoat over beige slacks and a black turtleneck sweater. He walked past her down the aisle as if he hadn’t seen her and took a seat three rows up, directly in front of her.
If he expected her to talk to him first, he had a lengthy wait ahead of him. Then, as though he’d forgotten something, he stood and marched toward the door. He was two steps up the aisle when he did a double-take, as if he’d just noticed her.
“As I live and breathe, it’s Judge Lockhart.”
“Jack Griffin, this is a pleasant surprise.” She played along, flushing with pleasure. It was so damned good to see her friend again, and the instant she did, she realized how much she’d missed him. Even more than she’d thought…
“What brings you to a movie all alone in the middle of a Saturday afternoon?” he asked—as if he didn’t already know.
It was time for the truth. No more games, just the truth. “You haven’t figured it out?” She grinned sheepishly up at him. “I came because of you.”
“Me?” He gave an award-winning look of surprise.
“Grace told me you were going to be here,” Olivia confessed.
Jack snorted. “She told me you’d be here, too.”
The theater darkened and Jack moved toward her row. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“I was hoping you would.”
He didn’t need to be invited twice, nearly leaping over her in his eagerness to get into the adjacent seat. As soon as he was settled, he tried to help himself to a handful of her popcorn.
Olivia playfully slapped his wrist. “Kindly wait until I offer.”
Jack sent her a hurt look, and when she slanted the bucket in his direction, he dug right in. “You couldn’t possibly eat all this by yourself, anyway.”
“I might.”
He snickered softly. “Are you always this bossy?”
“Yes, and if you haven’t figured that out by now, you haven’t been paying attention.”
“Are there makeup classes?” he asked, as he scooted down in his seat.
Olivia smiled. “That can be arranged.”
Jack reached for another handful of popcorn. “I’ve missed you.”
Her throat tightened. “I’ve missed you, too.”
The woman sitting in front of them and off to one side twisted around. Her lips were pursed in annoyance. “I hate to interrupt your reunion, but I’d like to hear the movie.”
“Sorry,” Olivia whispered, mortified that someone had to shush her in the theater. She hoped the lights were too dim for anyone to recognize her.
Jack straightened and leaned across the back of the seat closest to the woman who’d complained. “It’s actually all Olivia’s fault,” he said conversationally. “You s
ee, it’s been four months since we’ve seen each other and—”
“Jack!” Olivia tugged at the sleeve of his raincoat. “I don’t think it’s necessary that she hear the details of our misunderstanding.”
He continued chatting as if this woman was his long-lost friend. Olivia sank down as far in the seat as she could.
After several minutes, just as the previews finished, Jack turned around again. “Marion, this is Olivia. Olivia, Marion.”
“Hi.” Olivia lifted one hand in greeting and offered the woman a half smile.
Marion cheerfully waved back. “I’m just so glad you two are together again and that your dear, dear friend lived.”
“What?” Surely Olivia had misunderstood something.
“Enjoy the movie,” Jack said as he shifted back in his seat.
“What was that all about?” Olivia asked, although she already knew. Jack had told another of his outrageous stories; he should’ve been writing fiction, not newspaper columns. She poked him in the ribs with her elbow when he chose to ignore her.
“Shh,” Jack said, staring at the screen. He glanced away long enough to scoop up more popcorn.
Olivia relaxed, and after a few moments released a pent-up sigh. It felt so good to have him back in her life. They hadn’t settled anything, hadn’t discussed any of the once-important issues. And Olivia wasn’t even sure that was necessary.
She was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t notice that Jack had taken the entire bucket of popcorn—until she tried to get some.
“Hey,” she protested.
“You shouldn’t eat any more,” he asserted.
“Why not?”
“Because you won’t be hungry when I take you out to dinner after the movie.”
“Oh.” That answered that, but didn’t explain why he continued to eat, munching down as if he hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks. “What about you?”
He shrugged. “I’m always hungry.”
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