Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 2

by Debbie Macomber

  Rachel was still shocked that her relationship with Jolene had disintegrated so fast. She’d done her utmost to be patient and understanding. At first, she’d tried to keep Bruce out of it; she didn’t want her husband caught in an impossible situation, forced to side with either his wife or his daughter. That hadn’t worked. Jolene’s antagonism had grown to the point of near-belligerence, and Rachel no longer knew what to do.

  The pregnancy complicated everything. She’d warned Bruce that they needed to be more careful about protection when making love. She’d gone on the pill right away, but had a rare adverse reaction to it. So Bruce had said he’d take responsibility for birth control and he had—most of the time.

  She blamed Bruce; she blamed herself. When she’d realized that their occasional slips had resulted in pregnancy, Rachel had been stunned. She’d needed to adjust to it before she told Bruce, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep the secret from Jolene for long. Based on recent experience, Rachel recognized that the situation, which was barely tolerable now, would only get worse.

  She should be heading home and getting dinner started, but the thought of facing Jolene was more than she could bear, especially when she felt queasy, as she seemed to every afternoon. She suspected it was a combination of nausea caused by the pregnancy, worrying about Jolene’s reaction and the constant stress at home.

  She couldn’t do it. Instead of driving home, she went to Teri’s place on Seaside Avenue. Rachel hadn’t been to see her friend in nearly a week. She turned into the long driveway and parked in front of the house with a feeling of reprieve—however temporary that reprieve might be.

  Rather than ring the doorbell for fear of waking the triplets, she tapped on the door.

  To her surprise Bobby answered, a baby tucked in the crook of his arm. “Teri will be glad to see you,” he said, bouncing the baby as he spoke. This was a sight Rachel had never expected to see. Bobby, who was a world chess champion, holding an infant in his arms. It warmed her heart and helped her believe that the power of love could change things for the better.

  “Is this a bad time?” she asked, afraid she might’ve walked into the middle of a feeding. Those were always hectic.

  “Are you kidding?” Teri asked, sweeping into the foyer. “I’m dying for company. Come on in and make yourself comfortable. Let me bring Jimmy here over to Nikki. I’ll be back in a minute.” Teri took the baby from her husband’s arms and briefly disappeared. When she returned, without little Jimmy, she flopped down on the sofa next to Rachel. Bobby, who’d been awkwardly trying to entertain Rachel with an account of some chess game or other, hurried off, his relief all too evident.

  “You look exhausted,” Rachel told Teri.

  “I am,” Teri admitted. “We haven’t got the boys into a routine yet. Nikki’s helping me with it.” She sighed gustily. “I have no idea what I’d do without such a wonderful nanny.”

  “You were lucky to find her.”

  “I know.” Teri smiled, clasping her hands prayerfully. “I’m so grateful. Now…what about some tea?”

  “I’d love it,” Rachel said. Ever since she’d declined the cup of tea Su Jin—or Serenity—had offered her, she’d been craving one.

  “Me, too. I haven’t had a chance to sit down all afternoon.” Despite looking worn out, Teri leaped back up and hurried into the kitchen, Rachel trailing behind her. “I hope you’re here to tell me Bruce knows you’re pregnant,” Teri said.

  Rachel shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “Rach, you have to tell your husband.”

  Rachel shrugged. “I agree. I just want to preserve what peace there is for as long as I can.”

  “You can’t allow Jolene to run your life—which is exactly what’s happening now.”

  “Then tell me how to change that and I’ll be happy to do it.”

  Teri sat down at the kitchen table, and Rachel took the chair across from her. “Have you tried taking Jolene out, just the two of you?” Teri asked.

  Rachel nodded. “But she isn’t interested in going anywhere if I’m along.”

  “I thought she liked to shop?”

  “She does, but not if I’m with her.” Part of the problem was that Jolene preferred to be with kids her own age rather than an adult. Like almost every young teenager, she was far more influenced by her friends and their opinions than by her parents. Granted, she idolized her dad, but Rachel had become the evil stepmother.

  “That’s too bad.”

  “I’ve also tried to get her interested in taking a class with me.”

  Teri’s eyes shone with approval. “Great idea!”

  “I signed us up for cake decorating. You know how much Jolene loves to bake. Bruce thought it was a good idea, too, but it backfired. The night of the first class she pretended to be sick and stayed home. Bruce said the minute I was out the door Jolene experienced a miraculous recovery.” She sighed. “So it’s not like he hasn’t seen some of her bad behavior, but he doesn’t see the whole picture. Anyway, I finished the classes without Jolene attending a single one.”

  “Why? Did she get ‘sick’ every week?”

  “No, she flat-out refused to go. She said she missed too much the first week and would always be behind. Besides that, she said she wasn’t interested in decorating cakes. That was for retards like me—her word, by the way.”

  Jolene was free with her insults but smart enough not to say them in front of her father. And so far, Rachel hadn’t been able to bring herself to tattle.

  “How are things between you and Bruce?” Teri asked.

  The kettle whistled then and Teri got up to make the tea—decaffeinated, in deference to Rachel’s pregnancy—and assemble a plate of crackers and various cheeses. They carried everything back into the family room and sat down on the sofa again.

  “Bruce is…Bruce,” she murmured.

  “Oblivious, right?”

  Rachel nodded, making a wry face to hide her unhappiness. The pregnancy was playing havoc with her emotions. In the past, she’d never dissolved easily into tears but they sprang to her eyes now. She fought to hold them back, blinking furiously. “He’s got a one-track mind,” she whispered, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

  “And that one track leads directly to the bedroom.”

  Rachel nodded again.

  “The fact that he wants to go to bed at eight o’clock every night infuriates Jolene, too. The girl isn’t stupid. She knows why her father’s suddenly so tired.” Rachel had tried to explain to him that his sexual appetite wasn’t helping the situation between her and Jolene, but Bruce said his love life was none of his daughter’s business. He was right; nevertheless, it made Rachel’s relationship with Jolene even more difficult.

  Rachel loved the way her husband desired her. The hours they spent locked in their bedroom were the only peaceful times she had. Whenever they made love she had the urge to tell him about the baby…but she hadn’t. She simply couldn’t. And she hadn’t told him he could dispense with using protection. Even Bruce might’ve been able to figure that one out.

  It didn’t help, either, that Jolene was often still up, slamming things around, making sure they knew that she knew what they were doing. And Bruce himself often went right to sleep afterward. So…she hadn’t found a natural opportunity to tell him.

  Rachel tentatively chose a sliver of cheese from the platter Teri had set on the table. “I dread going home at the end of the day,” she said.

  “That’s not good.”

  “No, it isn’t, and I feel helpless to change anything. I don’t know what to do, Teri.”

  “Well, you could try family counseling.” Her friend pulled up her knees, resting her feet on the edge of the sofa. “Or…do you want Bobby to talk to Bruce?” she asked.

  Rachel was grateful Teri had offered, but she couldn’t see how it would improve matters. “Thanks, but no.”

  Teri actually looked relieved. “I can’t imagine that Bobby would know what to say, anyway,” she confessed. “I
adore that man, but this is not the sort of thing he’s comfortable with. Did I tell you he was away for a few days? The boys and I missed him like crazy.”

  “Bobby was away? Where?”

  Teri took a sip of her tea. “Bobby and James went to L.A. They had some business they needed to attend to—I don’t know the details.” She frowned as she said it.

  “Nothing’s wrong, is there?”

  “No, no,” Teri was quick to assure her. “Not with Bobby. It’s my sister again. Christie and James have had another falling-out. James can be as stubborn as my little sister. I don’t think they’re speaking.”

  “Oh, no.” Hearing that saddened Rachel. Everything had been going so well between them.

  “I’m sure they’ll work it out,” Teri said. “James loves her and my sister feels the same way about him. My guess is that this will blow over in a few days.”

  “I hope so. The next time I talk to you, I want to hear that they’ve set a wedding date.”

  Rachel finished her tea and left soon afterward, driving straight to Yakima Street. She hadn’t come up with any solutions but felt better for having discussed the problem with her best friend.

  When she finally got home, Bruce was already there. She pulled her car into the garage beside his and grabbed her dry cleaning from the backseat. Bruce had the garage door open before she’d even reached the house.

  “You’re late,” he said in aggrieved tones.

  “I went to see Teri.”

  “You didn’t let Jolene know where you were. She was worried.” The accusation in his voice stung, although Rachel didn’t believe for a minute that her stepdaughter was worried.

  Jolene stood behind her father, looking far too pleased with herself. “You told me I have to let you know if I’m going to be home late,” she said smugly.

  “Well, yes, but I’m the adult here. I don’t report to you.” Perhaps that was too blunt, but she couldn’t restrain herself. Rachel was barely inside the house and the attacks had already begun. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll call the next time I’m going to be late.”

  “I have to abide by the rules, but you don’t?” Jolene said as Rachel stepped past her and into the kitchen.

  Rachel ignored the comment, hung her dry cleaning in the hall closet and then walked back to the kitchen, past both Jolene and Bruce. “I’ll start dinner now.”

  “What are we having?” Jolene asked, following her.

  Rachel had put ground chicken in the refrigerator to thaw. “What would you like?”

  The girl shrugged. “Nothing you cook,” she said under her breath.

  Rachel pretended not to hear. “Bruce, do you have any preference for dinner?”

  “How about tacos?” he called out from the living room, where he sat at the computer desk he’d placed in one corner. He was, as usual, unconscious of the tension between Rachel and Jolene.

  “Sounds good to me,” Rachel said, not looking at Jolene as she brought the thawed chicken out of the refrigerator.

  “I hate tacos,” her stepdaughter said.

  “Since when?”

  “Since you started cooking them. My dad used to make them better. We made tacos together and had a lot of fun.”

  In other words, Rachel’s advent into their lives had ruined everything.

  “I’d love your help,” Rachel said, striving to speak pleasantly and disregard Jolene’s insults. “If you showed me how, then maybe I could make them the way you like them.”

  “Not a chance,” Jolene said, and disappeared down the hallway to her bedroom.

  Trying to salvage the evening, Rachel went to work; she seasoned the chicken with taco seasoning, grated the cheese, diced fresh tomatoes and shredded lettuce. Then she put the meal on the table, which, to her pleasure, Bruce had set without being reminded. He summoned Jolene and the three of them sat down.

  “How was school?” Bruce asked his daughter.

  “Great. I got an A on my history test.”

  “Congratulations,” Rachel said.

  Jolene glanced away as if to discount any praise from Rachel. “Misty asked me to spend the night on Friday. I can, can’t I, Dad?”

  Bruce looked at Rachel. “I don’t have any objection if you don’t.”

  “I thought Misty’s parents worked swing shift.”

  “So?” he asked.

  “So, who else will be there until her parents get home?”

  “No one,” Jolene said irritably. “Her parents let her take care of herself. We’re not babies, you know.”

  “Jolene’s spent the night at Misty’s before,” Bruce added, siding with his daughter.

  “But that was a Saturday and her parents were home,” Rachel pointed out.

  “Oh, right.”

  “Why don’t you have Misty spend the night at our place?” Rachel suggested.

  Jolene glared across the table at her. “Not with you here.”

  “Jolene,” Bruce snapped, reprimanding her.

  “I wish you’d never married Rachel,” she shouted at her father. “I hate having her in our house. I want it to be like it was before.”

  “Jolene, please…” Rachel began but her stepdaughter wasn’t willing to listen. Instead, she jumped up from the table and ran down the hallway to her room. Rachel flinched as the door slammed shut.

  After a moment of silence, she met her husband’s eyes across the table. Bruce released a pent-up sigh. “I’m sorry. That was…unfortunate.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Hard as Rachel tried, it never seemed to do any good.

  “No, you brought up a valid point. If Jolene spends the night with one of her girlfriends, I want there to be adult supervision. I know Misty’s grandmother stays with her some of the nights her parents are gone, but apparently she’s alone the rest of the time. Those two girls together, without any supervision, could get into trouble.”

  Rachel stood and started to clear the table. She considered bringing up the possibility of counseling, then decided to wait until she didn’t feel quite so tired.

  “Do you want me to get Jolene to help with the dishes?” he asked.

  If he did, Jolene would sulk and argue, and that would only increase Rachel’s stress. “No, thanks. I’ll do them.”

  Bruce frowned. “She should be doing chores.”

  “Yes, but…not tonight. She’s upset with us both. She can do the dishes tomorrow.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  Rachel nodded wearily. A few minutes later, as she stood at the sink, rinsing off the plates and setting them in the bottom rack of the dishwasher, Bruce moved in behind her. He’d finished clearing the table and had put the leftovers in the refrigerator. Now he slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck, dropping warm, moist kisses beside her ear. Shivers of awareness raced down her spine.

  “Bruce…” she whispered, but then she let him continue. She closed her eyes and leaned back, her weight resting against his strength. She was vaguely aware of a noise behind her, but it didn’t register at first. When she realized Jolene had come into the room, she instantly stiffened.

  “You two are disgusting!” the girl screamed. “I can’t have friends over because you embarrass me. It would help if you could keep your hands off each other for five minutes, you know.” With that, she stormed down the hallway and banged her bedroom door shut for the second time that night.

  Bruce released Rachel and sighed. “I guess that means Misty won’t be spending Friday night with us.”

  Rachel didn’t know if he was joking or simply unobservant. Either way, the only response she could manage was to roll her eyes.

  Eight

  Mary Jo Wyse woke, startled out of a deep sleep. She wasn’t sure if that was because of a dream she’d been having or because Noelle had made some small noise as she slept. At almost five months, the baby was sleeping through the night—well, practically every night. Mary Jo was grateful for that. Noelle slept in a crib in her room; Mary Jo wasn�
�t ready to move her to the nursery yet.

  As she lay in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, Mary Jo mulled over what she’d discovered the previous weekend. Mack owned the duplex. He’d wanted her living close by and, in order to make that happen, he’d misled her into thinking a distant friend of his was the owner.

  His lie disappointed her deeply. She liked Mack; in fact, she liked him a great deal. Nevertheless, she was wary of embarking on another relationship. David Rhodes had taught her several painful lessons and she’d be a fool if she didn’t take those lessons to heart.

  The problem was that she wanted to trust Mack. But she’d yearned to believe in David, too. She’d clung for much too long to the fiction that her baby’s father loved her and welcomed their child, refusing to accept what was obvious to everyone else…and should’ve been to her.

  Even her brothers knew what kind of man David was without ever meeting him. When she’d finally recognized the truth, Mary Jo had been devastated. Yet, despite everything, she’d never regret having Noelle. The baby gave her life purpose. And hope.

  Because of Noelle, there was more to think about than herself. Any decision she made, any action she took, would have an impact on her daughter, too.

  To his credit Mack had tried to make amends. Monday afternoon Mary Jo arrived home from her job at Allan Harris’s law firm to find a large bouquet of flowers on her doorstep. The card that accompanied it said simply, “I’m sorry,” and was signed by Mack.

  Tuesday and Wednesday nights he was at the fire station, but on Thursday there was another gift. A set of cake pans.

  Cake pans! Of all the silly things to remember she needed. She wanted to bake a coconut cake using a recipe Charlotte Rhodes had generously shared. Mary Jo had purchased the ingredients, but when she reached home, she realized she didn’t have circular cake pans. By then she didn’t feel like returning to the store. She’d bake it another time.

  Mack was working so hard to convince her to forgive him. Again, every instinct told her she should. She’d always be grateful for his help in finding a home for her and Noelle—even though she firmly disagreed with his deception, regardless of how well-intentioned it was. Without him, she might still be living with her three overbearing brothers. She loved them—they were her family—but they were suffocating her.