Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2

by Debbie Macomber

  “Why do you think something’s wrong?” Grace didn’t look at her as she changed out of her workout clothes. They stood beside each other in the locker room, ignoring the other women around them. Grace bent down to untie her shoe.

  “For starters, you didn’t complain once during class.”

  “I never complain,” Grace said righteously.

  “You’re joking, aren’t you? From the second we get here, you tell me there’s got to be a better way to stay in shape. And when we’re out on the floor, you huff and puff as if you’re about to keel over.”

  Grace straightened, hands on her hips. “I most certainly do not!”

  “Do, too.”

  Grace couldn’t keep from smiling. “We sound like we’re in junior high.”

  “Do not.”

  They both laughed and headed toward the parking lot. “Cliff wants me to retire,” Grace said as they walked.

  “Retire,” Olivia echoed. “You’re far too young for that.”

  “It isn’t about age.”

  Olivia stopped beside her car and gave her a questioning glance.

  “Cliff would like to travel and he wants me to join him,” Grace went on.

  Olivia nodded, opened her door and tossed in her gym bag. “Isn’t this kind of sudden?”

  “Not really.”

  Olivia paused. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Will, does it?”

  “Funny you should mention your brother,” Grace said, unlocking her own vehicle. “He stopped by the library this morning.”

  Olivia’s mouth instantly tightened. “And what did he want?”

  “A library card. Or so he said.” Grace leaned against the side of her vehicle. “Apparently he needed my help, because he asked to talk to me personally.”

  Olivia folded her arms. “I’ll bet he did.”

  “Then he invited me to lunch—supposedly to talk over what happened between us. I declined. I pointed out that I’m married now.”

  “He already knows,” Olivia muttered.

  “I said in no uncertain terms that I don’t have any interest in renewing our relationship.” Grace enjoyed telling her this part.

  “Good.” Olivia nodded encouragingly.

  Grace felt pleased by her response, but she was still worried about Will and what he might do. “I don’t think my being married concerns him.”

  “Why should it?” Olivia said in disgust. “His own marriage vows apparently didn’t mean very much. According to Georgia, my brother routinely had affairs. I don’t get why she put up with it for as long as she did.”

  Knowing she’d nearly been one of those affairs distressed Grace and embarrassed her. What a fool she’d been. How easily she’d overlooked behavior she’d known to be wrong. She’d so badly wanted to believe Will that she’d ignored every principle she’d been raised to uphold.

  “He informed me that he plans to be a frequent visitor to the library,” Grace continued.

  “He didn’t!” Olivia sputtered.

  “I said that if he needed anything to let me know,” Grace added, enjoying the look of confusion that crossed her friend’s face.

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did,” Grace said, “and then I told him I’d be happy to have someone else see to it.”

  A slow smile came to Olivia. “I’m ready for some pie and coffee now.”

  “Me, too.”

  They met five minutes later at the Pancake Palace. Goldie saw them pull into the parking lot and by the time they entered the restaurant she had their coffee poured.

  “Coconut cream?” she asked when Grace and Olivia walked in and sat down at their favorite booth.

  They both nodded.

  “What’s it gonna to take to convince you to try something other than coconut?” She didn’t wait for a response and, shaking her bleached-blond head, returned to the kitchen.

  “I notice you sidestepped my question,” Olivia said, dropping her car keys in the side pocket of her purse. “Is this talk of retirement connected to my brother’s visit?”

  Grace mulled over the question, a little startled by Olivia’s suggestion.

  “You mentioned retiring and then, in practically the same breath, you said that Will was at the library.”

  Had she? Perhaps those two things were linked and she hadn’t recognized it. The idea that she might consider retirement simply to avoid Will gave her pause.

  No, she wasn’t that weak or cowardly. No, she would not let him interfere with her life, would not grant him that power.

  Olivia reached for her coffee. “Will has a great deal to answer for,” she said grimly.

  “This has nothing to do with him,” Grace insisted and she realized it was true.

  Fortunately their pie was served just then, which signaled a change of subject.

  “Mmm.” Olivia savored a forkful, closing her eyes. “How’d Maryellen take the news, by the way?”

  “What news?” Grace asked, glancing up from her own pie.

  “You didn’t read the newspaper this morning? The Harbor Street Gallery is closing the first of October.”

  “Oh, no.” If she hadn’t been in such a rush this morning, Grace would’ve had a chance to look at the paper. “I’d heard rumors, but I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to that.”

  Olivia nodded.

  “I’ll call her tomorrow and tell you what she says.” This would be a major disappointment to both her daughter and son-in-law. Maryellen had been instrumental in the success of the gallery and Jon still sold some of his work there.

  Grace wished Maryellen had the time, energy and financial resources to buy the gallery herself. But right now, that possibility was completely out of reach.

  Eighteen

  This time Troy wasn’t taking any chances—he brought a change of clothes to the office on Friday morning, and he intended to leave precisely at five. Regardless of the Labor Day weekend traffic, he was visiting Faith.

  At five o’clock, as planned, he donned his clean pressed shirt and slacks, putting his uniform inside the garment bag he had with him. The way people stared, he felt almost naked walking down the hallway outside his office. You’d think they’d never seen him in regular clothes before, he grumbled to himself.

  Now that Megan was pregnant, she seemed to need her father more than ever. He realized that despite her happiness about the baby, she was feeling vulnerable and insecure. He’d had no chance to have an extended phone conversation with Faith since Megan had made her announcement. His daughter called him several times every evening, to talk about her mother, discuss baby names, ask his opinion on all kinds of pregnancy-related questions. He even wondered, almost guiltily, if she knew about him and Faith and was trying to thwart the relationship. But Megan couldn’t possibly know about Faith.

  When he left the office, Troy drove down to South-worth and discovered that the lineup for the ferry was hours long. Too impatient to wait, he drove around instead, which meant crossing the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. Traffic was bound to be heavy, but it didn’t matter to Troy. He was going to see Faith. She talked more and more about moving to Cedar Cove, and he encouraged the idea.

  For reasons he couldn’t really explain, he was nervous. Earlier that week, when Faith had invited him to dinner, Troy had decided he’d kiss her. Okay, he’d kiss her if he got the signal that she wouldn’t object.

  He lost track of time as he drove through the steady but unobstructed traffic and was surprised to find himself at the freeway exit she’d instructed him to take.

  Fifteen minutes later, he pulled up to the curb outside her house—a two-story colonial painted white with green shutters. The porch had two large columns, with a couple of wicker chairs and a glider. The lawn was well cared for and lined with flowering bushes. Sandy had liked flowers, too, and when she’d still been able to, had spent copious amounts of time maintaining their garden.

  Troy stood there, staring at the house, when the door opened and she came outside.

  “
Troy! I’m so glad you’re here.”

  He felt the warmth of her welcome all the way from her porch, and yet he remained rooted to the spot. The night before they’d talked for a mere ten minutes, mostly plans for tonight, but now that he was here, he seemed to have nothing more to say.

  “Hi.” He shoved one hand in his pocket and once again felt as awkward as a high-school kid. With his other hand he clutched the bottle of sauvignon blanc he’d bought on the advice of a friend.

  “Come in, please.” Faith gestured toward the house.

  He nodded. His mouth had gone dry and his tongue felt like it was glued to his teeth.

  Looking around, he walked up the porch steps and into the entry, thrusting his wine into Faith’s hand. The first thing that caught his eye was the carpeted staircase. Large framed photographs lined the wall going up the stairs—graduation photos of her two children, a couple of formal family shots and a portrait of her husband. He’d since learned that Carl had died of lung cancer. Troy’s gaze didn’t linger on the pictures. Instead, he glanced over at the living room, which was to his right. He could see that it was furnished with a sofa and a couple of matching chairs next to a brick fireplace. A few small tables. Lots of plants. That was where she led him.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “I have coffee, tea and soda.” She smiled. “And wine, of course.”

  “Not yet, thanks,” he mumbled as he sat on one of the chairs next to the fireplace. A moment of uncomfortable silence followed.

  “How was the traffic?”

  “Fine.” He was suddenly hot and resisted the urge to unfasten the top button of his shirt.

  “I was afraid it’d be bumper-to-bumper the entire way, but it looks like you made good time.”

  Troy had no interest in this mundane conversation. “Listen, Faith,” he said abruptly. “I’d best get this over with now.” He stood and paced in front of the fireplace. “My wife was sick for many years.”

  “Yes, Troy, I know that.”

  “Right.” He was going over ground already covered. “There’s never been anyone else.”

  “I’d be shocked if there had been.”

  Troy saw that he was making a mess of this. “I’m not eighteen anymore, Faith. I don’t know about…these things.”

  She looked at him with such sweet innocence, it was all he could do not to kiss her right then and there. “Just tell me, would you?” he groaned.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  “Oh.”

  “I mean, if you’d rather I didn’t, I understand. But I don’t want to spend the whole evening wondering—worrying about it. So tell me now. Either way is fine.”

  “Fine.” Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. “I think it would be perfectly nice if we kissed.”

  “Really?” All at once he felt lighter than air.

  “Would you like to do it now?” she asked with a faint smile.

  “Now?”

  “I don’t want you to worry about it through dinner.”

  He thought she might be teasing him but he didn’t take offense. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to wait.”

  Faith grinned. “As a matter of fact, I’d like to wait, too.”

  Then they had a glass of wine, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it always seemed to, everything from high-school reminiscences to the books they happened to be reading.

  Because the dinner she’d made when he had to cancel at the last minute had gone more or less to waste, Troy insisted on taking her out. With the help of an online recommendation, he’d made reservations at an upscale waterfront restaurant. The place was small and elegant, with intimate lighting and attentive waiters. Faith raved about the seafood she had, and he had to agree that his salmon, too, was exceptionally good. Afterward they went for a walk along the beach near Alki, removing their shoes and strolling hand-in-hand. He carried his shoes, with his socks stuffed inside, and felt conscious of every sensory detail—the cool, firm sand, the brilliant colors of the setting sun, her enticing floral scent.

  “I didn’t know what to think when you got to my house this evening,” Faith told him. “You looked so stern. I had this horrible feeling you’d gone through all that traffic just to come and tell me you didn’t want to see me again.”

  “Hardly,” Troy muttered, loving the feel of her so close. Asking permission to kiss her might not have been his smoothest move, but he was glad he’d done it. Now he could concentrate on her and on the anticipation of that kiss.

  “Might I remind you that you’ve already broken my heart once,” she said lightly.

  “You recovered.”

  “So did you.” She paused. “Troy, we both loved our spouses, but they’re gone. I’m so grateful that you and I have this second chance. Grateful and excited.”

  “I feel the same way. Grateful, excited and nervous.” He shook his head. “The truth is I’m surprised I didn’t throw up.”

  “You? Oh, come on, Troy, you’ve always been so sure of yourself.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  The wind carried the sound of her laughter and just hearing it made him want to laugh, too.

  “I’m knitting a baby blanket for your daughter,” Faith told him. “I hope that isn’t too forward of me.”

  “Of course not. I’m sure Megan will be very pleased.” Even as he spoke, Troy instinctively realized that the instant Megan learned the blanket had been knit by a woman he was dating, she’d be upset. Megan needed time before she’d be able to accept Faith, or anyone else for that matter, in his life. Maybe when the baby was born… He considered sharing his concern with Faith, but decided against it. He suddenly wondered how her kids felt about him.

  He shook off his thoughts, and together they watched the final moments of sunset. Now. He’d kiss her now. He dropped his shoes on the sand, then gently turned her into his embrace and lowered his mouth to hers. Faith slid her arms around his neck.

  This was the first time in more than thirty years that Troy had kissed a woman other than his wife. He found Faith’s lips moist and warm and most wonderful of all, inviting.

  When he lifted his mouth from hers, he saw that she was smiling up at him. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” she murmured.

  He frowned at her. “Not bad? That’s it?”

  “All right, lovely.”

  “That’s a little more like it.” Perhaps he should try again, he mused, and without hesitation touched his lips to hers. The same thrilling sensation stole over him. In his opinion, this was a thousand times better than not bad or lovely. It was…he searched for the right word. Incredible came to mind, but Faith had to feel it, too, before he’d risk saying that.

  Her eyes were still closed when he raised his head.

  “Pretty good,” he said in an offhand manner.

  “Pretty good?” Faith echoed. “Pretty good?” Louder this time.

  “All right, it was nice.”

  “Nice?” She sounded outraged.

  “How about incredible?” he suggested.

  Her face softened. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “Me, too.” They scooped up their shoes, then he reached for her hand and they headed back to the parking lot. The streetlights had come on, and the usual Friday-night revelers had begun to crowd the beach.

  Troy drove Faith home. Just as he had when they were in high school, he walked her to the front door.

  “I had a perfect evening,” she whispered. “Absolutely perfect.”

  “I did, too,” Troy said. “How about a movie next?” he asked.

  “When?”

  “Monday?” He had the day off and wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

  “Sure,” Faith answered. “Monday’s good.”

  “The way Sandy and I used to do it, she’d choose a movie, generally one I wouldn’t have picked myself, and then the next time around, it’d be my turn.”

  “That seems fair,” Faith agreed. �
�So who’ll choose the movie this time, you or me?”

  “You.”

  “That’s chivalrous of you, but since it was your idea, you should go first.”

  “We can compromise. I’ll check the paper and get back to you with some ideas.”

  “Okay.”

  They still hadn’t decided whether to meet in Seattle or Cedar Cove, but that gave Troy a legitimate excuse to call her later. Not that he really needed an excuse…

  They kissed good-night, a brief, comfortable kiss, and Troy left. As he made his way down side streets to the freeway on-ramp, he couldn’t stop smiling.

  The freeway traffic remained heavy, thanks no doubt to the holiday weekend. Driving back to Cedar Cove took nearly ninety minutes. As soon as he walked into the dark, silent house, he noticed the flashing red light on his phone. He checked the caller ID function; all four calls had come from his daughter. No surprise there.

  It was close to eleven, too late to return Megan’s call. He’d phone her in the morning, when his head would be clearer and he’d be better prepared to answer her questions. He’d tell her enough to satisfy her curiosity for the moment, but he wouldn’t lie.

  As he started toward his bedroom, the phone rang again. Apparently Megan wasn’t going to let this rest.

  “Yes, Megan,” he said, recognizing the number. Who else would be calling him this late at night? Well, except for work, of course.

  “It’s Craig,” his son-in-law said in a flat tone. “I just got back from the hospital.” He hesitated and Troy could hear him taking a deep breath. “Megan lost the baby.”

  Troy felt as if he’d had a fist slammed into his belly. The first word out of his mouth was “No.”

  “I’m sorry…. We tried to reach you. Apparently you had your cell turned off.”

  Troy hadn’t bothered to check. “I was…out.”

  “Megan’s taking the miscarriage pretty hard.”

  Troy felt the sudden need to sit down. “What went wrong?” he asked, shocked by the news.

  Sandy had lost two pregnancies after Megan, and both times the experience had been devastating. He couldn’t stand that this had happened to his daughter, too.