Roy’s letter had changed everything. If ever she needed reassurance of his love it was now, which was why she’d brought the letter with her on this trip.
Her husband stirred and he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
“Morning,” Maggie whispered, and bent down to kiss him.
He moved his head so that her lips bounced against his cheek instead of his lips. So that was the way it was going to be. She stiffened and climbed out of bed.
Bracing herself, she decided she had no option but to face this head-on. “You told me yesterday that you didn’t want to talk about what happened.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” His words were unyielding, as if written in stone.
“I don’t, either …”
“Good, then it’s a closed subject.” He rolled over and presented her with a clear picture of his back.
Maggie debated how far she should press the matter. It was clear that unless they addressed this open wound, their marriage would never heal, never recover. It would be only a matter of time before it disintegrated entirely.
“What time is breakfast?” Roy asked, tossing aside the covers and sitting on the edge of the mattress. Again with his back to her.
“Not until eight or nine, I believe.”
“Then we should get downstairs, don’t you think?”
“No,” she breathed, keeping her voice low for fear it would tremble with emotion. “I think we need to air this once and for all.”
Roy pretended she hadn’t spoken. “Any idea of where you’d like to go today? I was thinking we could drive to Mount Saint Helens and visit the site of the eruption.”
She decided to change the subject entirely. “Do you know I kept the letter you wrote me in college after we broke up?” she asked.
Roy glanced over his shoulder at her.
“In fact, I brought it with me.”
“Here?” he asked, frowning. “Why would you do that?”
She walked around the bed so she could face him. “I read it every now and again when we’re going through a rough patch just to be reassured you still love me.” To her, every word of that letter had vibrated with love. She hesitated, wanting a confirmation of his love and at the same time fearing his answer. Still, she’d rather know his feelings now than waste time by kicking a dead horse, or whatever that saying was.
“I wrote that years ago.” He said it as if to discount the letter.
“Do you still mean what you wrote, Roy, or did my … mistake ruin that forever? Do you love me?”
His short hesitation nearly destroyed her. “Of course I do. I’m here, aren’t I?”
Maggie slumped back onto the bed next to him, struggling not to break down as she buried her face in her hands.
He tentatively touched her shoulder and she heard the regret in him as he spoke. “Maggie, please, don’t. It rips my heart out to see you cry. I meant what I said in that letter, then and now. It’s just hard for me to accept … to think of you being with another man.”
Pulling herself together, Maggie inhaled a deep, calming breath and forced herself to be still. “You won’t talk to me.”
“What are we doing now?” he demanded, none too gently.
“Let’s go back to that night, please, just this once, clear the air … we need to do this, Roy, please.”
“No,” he all but shouted at her. “I want to put it behind us.”
“We can do that,” she murmured, “but one day it’ll catch up with us, and my guess is that it won’t take long. Burying our feelings, our pain, will soon devour our marriage and destroy us. If you won’t do it for me, then do it for Jaxon and Collin. More than anything, they need the security of a mother and father who love each other.”
Roy stood and walked to the far side of the room, keeping his back to her. “You have no one to blame but yourself, Maggie. What you want is for me to step forward and accept the blame, but it wasn’t me that got so drunk and ended up in bed with someone I met in a bar. That was all you, sweetheart. All you. You’re the one who stepped over the line. Way over the line, I might add.”
“Really?” she asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. “All me? I find that interesting from the man who was carrying on an affair with some old girlfriend he hooked up with on Facebook.”
“At least I never slept with her.”
“No, but you might as well have. You gave her everything you vowed to give me.”
“See what I mean?” He spat out the words as if he was a dog chewing meat off a bone. “Our little talk, as you call it, is merely an excuse to throw blame on me.”
Maggie went still and quiet. Raising their voices, arguing, wouldn’t help matters. “After our blowup, after I found out about Katherine, I figured our marriage was over, so what did it matter what I did. I’d never been more devastated in my life.
“I’ll be the first one to admit that what I did was beyond stupid and wrong. I’m horrified that I would drink myself into oblivion to the point that I would sleep with another man. You of all people should recognize how much out of character that was for me.”
Roy didn’t answer.
“He made me feel attractive and desirable …”
“Of course he did. He wanted to get you in bed, and he succeeded, didn’t he?”
Maggie wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. “You want to blame me, and that’s understandable, but I think you should take a long, hard look in the mirror.”
Once more Roy went silent. He didn’t understand, and Maggie wasn’t sure she could explain what she’d felt that dreadful night. In her eyes, her husband had betrayed her even if the relationship with Katherine hadn’t gone to the point that they were having sex. Clearly, that was where the two were headed. Maggie needed Roy to do more than apologize, to admit he’d wronged her and their children. What she needed was for her husband to realize that she’d been hurt and what she sought was to be healed.
“I don’t need a crystal ball to look into the future, Roy,” she said, doing her best to remain calm. Cruel, thoughtless words would soon demolish everything they’d spent the last ten years building. “Every time we have a disagreement you’re going to throw that night in my face.”
“You mean the way you throw Katherine in my face?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t be any more direct than that.
He frowned and rammed his fingers through his tousled hair. “So what do we do?”
“I love you, Roy. Heart and soul love you. This has the power to destroy us, destroy our family, destroy our future. We have to learn to forgive each other.”
It took him a moment to agree and nod. “It isn’t easy.”
“No, it isn’t,” she said. “We’ve both been badly hurt.”
He turned his head and looked away. For the longest time, he said nothing and then seemed to reach a decision. He turned to face her. “I’m sorry, Maggie, so sorry. I could never have believed accepting Katherine as a Facebook friend would lead to this. It seemed so innocent at the time. Forgive me, please.”
“And I’m sorry, too, so, so sorry. Can you find it in you to forgive me?”
Her husband came across the room and reached for her then, bringing her into a tight embrace, his arms hugging her close. “I love you. I’ve always loved you and I’ll go to my grave loving you.”
Maggie wanted to weep but held the tears at bay. “You’re a good husband and a wonderful father and God knows I love you.”
Roy exhaled as though he’d released a heavy burden from his heart. Maggie felt the weight lift from her shoulders, too. Roy hadn’t wanted to have this talk, and, frankly, she would’ve liked to have avoided it as well, but it was necessary. There was only so much pain and disillusionment they could ignore before it damaged them both beyond repair.
“I’m hungry,” Roy announced all at once, and he headed into the bathroom to shower.
Maggie smiled. She was hungry, too, and had bright hopes for a new day. It felt as if
they were starting over. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was a start in the right direction. They’d both made an effort to forgive the other, each accepting blame for their part in this mess.
Roy was in and out of the shower in ten minutes, and by then Maggie had dressed and was applying her makeup.
“What do you think of driving out to see Mount Saint Helens?” he asked, and placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed the side of her neck.
Maggie shrugged, not overly excited to return to the site of the 1980 volcanic eruption. “We were there once before, remember?”
“True, but it’s an amazing site.”
She agreed. “I think I’d rather go someplace we haven’t been or go into the city.”
“Okay by me. Let’s ask Jo Marie for a few recommendations.”
“Perfect.”
When they came down the stairs, Jo Marie had homemade muffins and orange juice laid out in the breakfast room. She offered them a feast, and both Roy and Maggie took advantage of the fried bacon, stuffed French toast, and eggs.
Jo Marie offered a variety of ideas as to how they could spend their day. “Bremerton has a lot to offer and it’s close by,” she suggested first, listing a number of tourist attractions and museums that were a short foot-ferry ride away.
“Then there’s the Olympic National Forest. Did you know Washington State has the only rain forest in the continental U.S.?”
“No.” Maggie had lived her entire life in Washington State and didn’t have a clue.
“Some of the hikes inside the forest will take your breath away,” the innkeeper mentioned.
Roy looked to Maggie as if to say he was interested in a short hike if she was.
“Speaking of museums, there’s a Museum of Glass in Tacoma that displays Dale Chihuly’s work. Really breathtaking, or so I’ve heard,” Jo Marie continued. “I haven’t visited yet myself, but I plan to make an excuse to go soon. I’ve heard nothing but raves about it, and there’s a car museum close by as well.”
Maggie noticed how Roy’s eyes lit up at the mention of the car museum. He had a long-standing love for cars.
“That gives us several options,” Roy said, and reached for another slice of bacon.
“Take a light sweater,” Jo Marie said, as she refilled Roy’s coffee mug. “It’s overcast this morning, and according to the weather, there’s a chance of rain later in the day.”
“Will do.”
Maggie’s stomach felt a bit queasy. “I’ll get our jackets,” she told Roy as he went over a map with Jo Marie. Hurrying up the stairs, Maggie reached for her purse and what else they’d need for the day, when she stopped cold.
All at once she felt dreadful and rushed into the bathroom just in time to lose her breakfast.
It hit her then like a two-by-four slamming into her midsection. The only other time in her life when she’d thrown up like this, outside of the time when she was sick with the flu, was when she was pregnant with her sons.
Slumping onto the bed, Maggie felt the blood drain out of her face. Dear God in heaven, she prayed fervently, please don’t let me be pregnant.
Chapter 14
Once Roy and Maggie headed out to explore and enjoy the day, I brought the dishes and leftover food back into the kitchen. Rover sat next to his dish, reminding me that in my eagerness to feed my guests I’d overlooked him. That happened, but rarely. My mind seemed to be on other matters lately, most of which revolved around Paul.
“Sorry, Rover,” I said, and bent down to pat his head. He luxuriated in the attention and lifted his chin. He enjoyed it when I stroked his chin and neck, and seemed to sigh. “I spoil you rotten.” I brought the bag of dog food from the pantry floor and filled his bowl. Rover quickly dug into it, spilling the nuggets over the sides of his dish in his eagerness. He seemed to think if he didn’t gobble it up right away someone else would nudge in and cheat him out of his meal.
I’d just tucked the bag back inside the pantry when the phone rang. It was the business line instead of my cell.
“Rose Harbor Inn,” I said, making an effort to sound as crisp and professional as a corporate reservations operator.
“Jo Marie?”
It was my mother. “Hi, Mom. You’re calling on the reservation line for the inn.”
“I am? You have so many phone numbers I hardly know which one is which. It baffles me that I can have two children and between them they have six or seven phone numbers. I don’t know if I consider this progress or not.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. She was right. I had three phone numbers and I knew Todd, my brother, had that many as well. In addition, Jennifer, his wife, had her own cell, and it wouldn’t be long before his two children had their own phones, each with individual numbers. By all that was fair, Mom was onto something.
“I’m calling about Sunday afternoon,” Mom said, getting right to the point of her call. “You wouldn’t by chance happen to be free, would you?”
“Let me check.” I got on the computer and brought up my calendar. Unfortunately, I had three sets of guests due to arrive midday. “What do you have in mind?”
“I was thinking it’s been a while since we last saw you.”
It really hadn’t been that long. A month, maybe. Since Paul died, my parents had been keeping close track of me.
“Can’t you break away for just one afternoon and come to Seattle for dinner?” Mom asked, her voice soft and pleading.
With guests leaving and others checking in, it would be almost impossible to take time off. One of the downfalls of owning the inn was the lack of free time. Peggy Beldon had warned me about this and suggested I make contingency plans in case of emergencies. I’d taken her advice and hired a couple local girls to help. They were good, but I wasn’t confident they were up to taking over for me entirely.
“Sorry, Mom, I don’t think I can make it.” I hated letting my family down, but I really didn’t feel comfortable leaving the inn.
“Oh, that is disappointing.”
I had a suggestion, though, and I hoped it would work. “Could you have dinner in Cedar Cove?”
“Yes, I suppose,” she said, after a short hesitation. “Todd and Jennifer are free, and you know how hard it is to get the family together these days. Brian’s involved in soccer and Shauna’s constantly on the go.”
That was true. My nephew and niece, although young, were already involved in a number of activities. Shauna was a Brownie and took piano lessons, and Brian played soccer and had recently joined Cub Scouts. And this was in addition to all their church activities.
“I could host the dinner.” To me, this was the logical solution.
“But, Jo Marie, that’s a lot of work when you’ve already got your hands full.”
“Mom, please. I cook for a crowd nearly every day. I’d enjoy hosting the family. Besides, it would give me an opportunity to show you how far my culinary skills have come along.”
“Are you sure?” Mom sounded hesitant.
“I’m positive. I’m a good cook.” I don’t know what Mom thought I did all day. But in the last year I’d learned more about putting meals together than I had in my first thirty-seven years.
Still, she hesitated and I could almost see her chewing on her lower lip, a habit she had when uneasy about making a decision. “This is a dinner, remember, not breakfast.”
“True.” No argument there, and while I was an old hand when it came to breakfast, I wasn’t as adept at dinners. “I’ll look through my cookbooks and come up with something wonderful.”
Mom chuckled. “You amaze me, Jo Marie.”
“Does that mean you’d be willing to come my way?” On second thought, I might have been a bit hasty in asking the entire family over for a home-cooked meal. Before I took over the inn, I would have either taken them out to a local restaurant or brought in takeout.
“I’ll need to check with Todd and Jennifer, but seeing that this may be the only way we’ll get a chance to see you, I doubt they’ll have any o
bjection.”
My mind was abuzz with ideas of what I might serve. The farmers’ market was in session and fresh fish were often sold from one of the fishing boats that docked at the marina. My dad especially enjoyed fresh salmon. I could steam clams as well. I’d bake the salmon, put together a green salad loaded down with vegetables from my garden, and pick up bread from the bakery. For a side dish, I’d serve Dad’s favorite rice, a recipe handed down in his family, made with raisins and pine nuts. In a matter of seconds I had the entire menu.
“That’ll be seven of us,” Mom reminded me.
My table would easily seat seven and often up to twelve. That was when it struck me. “Would it be all right if I invited someone?”
“Who, dear?”
I could be opening up a can of worms. Still, I couldn’t resist. “Mark Taylor.”
“Who?”
“Mark. He’s my handyman.”
“The one who put in the rose garden? Oh, and wasn’t it Mark who crafted the sign for the inn?”
“That’s him.” I should have thought of this earlier. My mother had a gift, a knack for reading people in the most natural, nonthreatening way. I would love for her to get a feel for Mark. I couldn’t think of a better way than to have her sit across from him at dinner. My mother was wonderful with people, and if anyone could get Mark engrossed in conversation, it would be her.
Love Letters: A Rose Harbor Novel Page 12
