204 Rosewood Lane

by Debbie Macomber

  “You look great,” Olivia commented as they stood in line to purchase their tickets.

  “Of course I do. The only thing you ever see me in these days is my sweats for aerobics class.”

  Olivia smiled because it was all too true.

  “Remember in high school when we used to come and cheer on the team?” Grace asked as the line moved slowly toward the ticket counter.

  “Do I ever. Bob Beldon and Dan were our football heroes—” Olivia paused. She regretted bringing Dan’s name into the conversation.

  Grace touched her arm. “I was thinking the same thing. Dan was a wonderful athlete when he was young. I still remember the year he scored the winning touchdown that put Cedar Cove in the playoffs for the first time in a decade.”

  “So do I,” Olivia said, glancing at her friend. “It doesn’t hurt to talk about Dan?”

  Grace gazed into the distance. “Not really. But it’s easier to think about the early years, before Vietnam.” She was silent for a moment. “I don’t know why he left me the way he did. I’ve gone over it a thousand times and can’t come up with an answer. I just don’t understand how he could do this. I realize I might never know. All I can say is that this was his choice. I have my own choices to make, and I need to move forward with my life.”

  “You always were a strong woman,” Olivia said, not hiding her admiration, “but you’re stronger now than ever.”

  “I wish that was true,” Grace murmured and then she changed the subject, looking up at the night sky. “I love this time of year.”

  “Me, too.” The weather in the Pacific Northwest had taken a decided turn in the last couple of weeks. Soon the autumn rains would start, and the clear bright evenings would become storms of wind mingled with a steady drizzle.

  After paying for their tickets, they purchased a program from one of the drill team members hawking the small booklets just inside the field. Making their way toward the stands, Olivia paused to see what seats were still available.

  “Olivia! Grace!” Charlotte’s voice rang out from the home field section.

  Olivia glanced around until she found her mother waving her right arm high above her head. Charlotte sat next to Cliff Harding about halfway up. Her lap was draped with a small red quilt and Cliff was wearing a fringed leather jacket and his ever-present cowboy hat.

  “Do you mind sitting with Mom?” Olivia asked, although her real question had to do with Cliff Harding.

  “No, it’s fine.” Grace’s eyes were on Cliff and she gave a slow smile.

  Now, that was an interesting development, Olivia mused as they climbed the steps.

  Olivia hugged Charlotte as she edged past her mother. Moving down, she left plenty of room for Grace. Cliff sat on the outside of the row, closest to the stairs.

  “What a pleasant surprise to run into you two,” Charlotte said, sounding positively delighted. “Cliff’s never been to a Cedar Cove football game. My column in the newspaper this week was about supporting our youth, you know?”

  “I read it, Mom, and it was a great piece.” Her mom derived real pleasure from writing the Seniors’ Page for the Chronicle.

  “Cliff read it, too, and I told him he’d never be part of the community until he’s cheered for our football team.”

  Cliff was studying the program and seemed impressed with all the community advertisement that supported the team. “The last time I was at a high school football game was when I was in high school myself.”

  “This town takes its football seriously,” Olivia told him.

  “I can see that.” The game was about to start and there was standing room only. In addition to the football team itself, the school band, the cheerleading squad and drill team were all present.

  “Do you two have plans for after the game?” Cliff asked, but Olivia noticed that he directed the question at Grace.

  “Olivia and I are going to dinner,” Grace explained.

  “Cliff invited me out, as well,” Charlotte said. “Why don’t you two join us?” She glanced from one to the other.

  “Sure, that sounds like fun,” Olivia said. From Grace’s reaction to seeing Cliff, she knew her friend wouldn’t object.

  The game was close, and at halftime the score was tied. Olivia was, once again, amazed by how many people her mother knew. Not a moment passed without Charlotte calling out to one person or another. Her weekly column had increased her recognition among the townspeople, and she was obviously well-loved for her charitable activities, including her volunteer work at the local convalescent center where she’d met Tom Harding.

  Cedar Cove High School won in the last five seconds with a field goal. The mood was festive as the stadium emptied. Since the Pancake Palace would definitely be crowded after the win, Cliff suggested The Captain’s Galley in the downtown area.

  They met there and were quickly escorted to a table for four. Olivia noticed that Cecilia Randall still held the position of hostess, but there wasn’t time to chat with the young Navy wife. Once they were seated, conversation was light and flowed smoothly both before and after they ordered.

  Try as she might, Olivia found her thoughts wandering to Jack, and that distracted her. Without being obvious, she’d searched for him throughout the game. He generally wrote the sports articles for the high school teams, simply because he loved going to the games. Olivia had given up counting the number of sporting events they’d attended together. But if he was at the game tonight, she hadn’t seen him.

  Of course, she could phone him. They weren’t fighting, although she had to wonder why he hadn’t called her. Perhaps Eric was still with him, but his son couldn’t possibly take up every minute of Jack’s time. Olivia was getting downright irritated.

  Conversation ceased as their meals arrived and then it resumed. They’d moved from the football game to the state of the local economy. Olivia added a comment every now and then as she nibbled at her crab salad, but her spirits weren’t high and she struggled to keep her thoughts away from Jack.

  Even though she’d dated occasionally since her divorce, she hadn’t gotten close to another man the way she had with Jack. Because their personalities and backgrounds were so different, he brought balance and spontaneity to her rigid schedule. With him she was free to laugh and shed the formality that had taken over her life after she was elected to the bench. Jack was unconventional, witty, fun—and, damn it all, she missed him.

  The bill came, and before anyone could argue, Cliff reached for it. “My treat, ladies,” he insisted.

  Olivia objected. She’d never have agreed to join them if she’d known Cliff was buying. “I can’t let you do that,” she said.

  “Hey, how often does a man get the chance to be seen with three beautiful women?”

  “This is very thoughtful of you,” Charlotte said and patted his hand, sending Olivia a sharp glance. Sighing, Olivia decided to accept graciously and murmured her thanks.

  Grace chuckled. “Are you sure you’re not using my credit card?”

  They all laughed and after savoring the last of their coffee, they parted for the night.

  “Is everything okay?” Grace asked as they strolled to the parking lot next to the library. “You’ve been quiet all evening.” Olivia had hoped for a few minutes to speak privately to Grace, but with her mother and Cliff present that hadn’t been possible.

  “Who can get a word in edgewise with my mother?” Olivia joked.

  “Is everything okay between you and Jack?” How like Grace to care about her friend’s petty concerns when she was the one whose life was in upheaval.

  “I think so,” Olivia told her, and then added, “I hope so.”

  “So do I.”

  They parted with promises to talk soon, and Olivia drove home. As she walked into the hallway, she saw that the message light on her answering machine was flashing. She stared down at it for a few hopeful seconds. Pressing the button, she waited and was rewarded by the craggy sound of Jack’s voice.

  “Ol
ivia, hi. Sorry I haven’t been in touch lately, but I’ve had my hands full with Eric. I was hoping you’d be home so we could talk. You’re not out with some other guy, are you?” There was a forced laugh. “Listen, I’m really sorry about last week, but I hope to make it up to you. Phone me back, all right? I’ve got a special birthday gift for you. Can we get together soon?”

  Olivia checked her watch. It was close to eleven and too late to return his call. Anyway, he’d kept her waiting all week; she’d keep him guessing until morning. As she readied for bed, Olivia was smiling.

  Maryellen wanted to kick herself for coming up with this ridiculous “swap meet for men” idea. It’d all started out innocently enough with her mentioning the article she’d read about that town in Ireland. Next thing she knew, she was part of the party-planning. By her following nail appointment, this Halloween get-together had gathered momentum to the point that she’d lost count of how many people were attending.

  “You’re still bringing that chef friend of yours, aren’t you?” Teri asked. Maryellen had barely sat down when Teri started grilling her with questions she couldn’t answer about Jon.

  “Like I said, he’s just a friend—no,” she amended. “Jon’s more of a business acquaintance. And he hasn’t given me an answer yet.”

  “Oh.” Teri sounded disappointed. “So you don’t know if he’s coming or not?”

  “I can’t say for sure.” She hadn’t talked to him since that initial conversation a week ago. “If he’s not there, I’ll make sure you get introduced some other time.”

  Teri’s dark eyes lit up. “Great.”

  The following evening—Halloween night—Maryellen stood in the darkest, creepiest corner of the decorated bar with a fake spider dangling from the ceiling directly above her. More than ever, she felt convinced that this had all been a mistake. The room was crowded with maybe a hundred men and women, some in costume, some not.

  Then without warning, without her seeing him arrive, Jon was standing next to her. He held a frosty mug of beer. “Hi,” he said, looking out over the crowded room.

  “You came.” Now that was brilliant. Nothing like stating the obvious. “I mean…you didn’t call me back and when I didn’t hear, I assumed you wouldn’t show up.”

  “I should’ve phoned, but I wanted to make sure I could get the evening off first.”

  “It’s all right—don’t apologize.” He hadn’t but…

  “Between the restaurant and my photography, I’ve been working a lot of hours. Sometimes I lose track of time.”

  An artist’s working habits weren’t new to Maryellen. “I understand.”

  He took a sip of beer. “Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m fine, thanks.” Then, glancing around the room, she saw Teri, who’d dressed as Cleopatra complete with heavy eye makeup and black wig. “There’s the woman I wanted you to meet.”

  “All right,” Jon said, following as she wove her way through the crowd.

  “Teri,” Maryellen said, interrupting the other woman’s conversation with someone—male or female?—dressed as a wizard in voluminous robes. “This is Jon, the man I was telling you about.”

  “Hello, Jon,” Teri returned, as though she’d waited her entire life for precisely this moment. The wizard, having lost her attention, drifted off.

  “Pleased to meet you, Teri,” Jon said.

  “I hear you’re a chef.” Teri edged closer to him, and Maryellen could see she’d already had more than enough to drink. She bit her lip, wanting to suggest that it might be best if they talked another time. “I know my way around a kitchen, too. Want to stir up something together?”

  “That might be interesting.” Jon took another sip of beer, and Maryellen could see he was trying hard to disguise a smile.

  “Maryellen said you also take pictures.”

  “I do a little of that on the side.”

  “Actually, Jon’s a brilliant photographer,” Maryellen rushed to explain, mortified at what he must think.

  Trying not to be conspicuous about it, she wandered away and eventually returned to her protective corner. She wasn’t there long before Jon joined her.

  “So, Teri’s the woman you wanted to set me up with?” he asked.

  “Have you ever done something you regret?” she asked. “I’m afraid this is one of those situations.”

  He nodded, but didn’t respond, and they stood in silence for a few minutes.

  Someone put a bunch of quarters in the jukebox, and the music started. Several couples formed an impromptu dance floor. Jon made a sweeping gesture. “Shall we?”

  Jon didn’t give her a chance to object. He put his beer aside and gently pulled her into his arms.

  He felt strong and solid against her, but Maryellen was having none of it. “I don’t think we should,” she said, her posture rigid. She didn’t want Jon to hold her, didn’t want this relationship to be anything but professional. Yet she recognized that she’d broken her own rule in calling him, inviting him here—in acknowledging her attraction to Jon Bowman.

  “Relax,” he whispered close to her ear.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed. “It’s a long story. Jon, I’m serious, this isn’t a good idea.”

  “One dance,” he said. “Okay? Think of it as your penance for setting me up with your friend.”

  Refusing would be ungracious. “Okay,” she agreed, but reluctantly. She tried to keep her distance, although it was difficult with Jon’s arms around her, urging her closer. The song was that slow-dance classic, “Cherish,” and she couldn’t help feeling affected. If Jon wasn’t so gentle and warm and considerate, it would’ve been easier to maintain her reserve. She began to relax in his embrace.

  “Better, much better,” he whispered, leading her across the floor. He stroked her back in a slow circular motion that was doing crazy things to her pulse. The music ended long before she was ready to stop.

  “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Jon asked.

  She blinked up at him, not realizing she’d closed her eyes. “No.” It was scary and wonderful, both at once. She didn’t want to feel any of this. Warning bells were clanging in her head. Nevertheless, when the next song started—even before he asked—she slipped her arms around his neck and swayed toward him.

  Jon didn’t say anything, but she could feel his smile. To her own amazement, she was smiling, too.

  They danced for what seemed like hours, danced to song after song. They didn’t talk, but the communication between them was unmistakable. The way he held her close told her he’d been interested in her for some time. And the way she responded to his touch told him she found his work brilliant and beautiful, and that he intrigued her—as an artist and a man.

  She wanted to know why he answered every question with a question. Did he have secrets? She suspected he must. After all, she had her own. Secrets that had remained buried since the early days of her marriage. No one knew, not even her mother. Not her sister. No one. Perhaps it was this that drew them together. Perhaps this was what he sensed in her and she felt in him. Of one thing Maryellen was sure. Secrets could be dangerous.

  The Halloween party was breaking up and Jon suggested he walk her to her car. Maryellen agreed. Knowing that parking would be scarce, she’d used her space behind the art gallery. It would be dark and deserted, and she was glad Jon had offered to escort her.

  “I had a good time,” he told her as they entered the alley.

  “I did, too.” Darkness swallowed them up no more than two feet from the street.

  “I forgive you for wanting to pawn me off on your friend.”

  Maryellen’s face instantly went hot, and she felt grateful there wasn’t enough light for Jon to notice. “That was all a misunderstanding.”

  He chuckled. “If you say so.”

  As she fumbled in her purse for her car keys, Jon stopped her. “I’ve wanted to know you better for years,” he said in a low voice.

/>   Maryellen couldn’t have muttered a word had the fate of the world depended on her reply. She envisioned herself thanking him in a flippant, matter-of-fact way, then whirling around and unlocking her car door. Instead she stood rooted to the spot, staring up at him. He was going to kiss her. That couldn’t happen; she simply couldn’t allow it. Yet, all the while objection after objection marched through her mind, she found herself slowly—against every rational dictate—leaning toward him. Her head was raised, her eyes half-closed.

  When his lips met hers, it wasn’t the slow, seductive kiss she’d anticipated. Jon lifted her from the pavement until she stood on the very tips of her toes. His mouth was hungry, urgent, needy as his lips seduced hers. She tasted his passion as his tongue swept her mouth and swallowed his moan as it went on and on and on until she was sure she’d faint.

  No man, not even her husband, had kissed her so thoroughly, so passionately. When he broke it off, Maryellen was breathless and speechless. Had he released her, she would’ve crumpled into a heap on the ground.

  “Oh, no.” When she could manage to speak, these were the first words that emerged.

  “No?” Jon asked.

  “Oh…no.”

  “My ego’s taking something of a bruising here. Can’t you do better than that?”

  “Jon.” She gave herself a moment to gather her composure. “That was—”

  “Pretty damn wonderful if you ask me.”

  “Yes…it was.” Maryellen couldn’t begin to explain to him why this was such a mistake.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all evening,” he said in a satisfied tone.

  Arms dangling at her sides, Maryellen slumped against her car. It was still hard to breathe, and for some reason, she felt as if she was about to cry. “I think we need to talk.”