44 Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4)

44 Cranberry Point (Cedar Cove #4) Page 30

He hesitated, then agreed with a shrug. "All right."

"I heard Linnette McAfee's been hired to work at the clinic." It was an obvious change of topic, but he accepted it readily enough and she sighed with relief.

"That's what I understand."

"Since Linnette's moving to town, maybe she'll have a chance to get to know Cal." She gestured vaguely. "More than she could on just a dinner date."

"Cal's a good man," Cliff said casually. "I think getting out more will do him a world of good."

"I like him," Grace said although her contact with Cliff's trainer had been limited to a few short conversations. His shyness and stuttering made communication difficult. Instinctively, she wanted to finish his sentences, to spare him the embarrassment of stammering. But on honest reflection, she supposed her impulse to help had as much to do with her own discomfort as with any perceptions of his.

"He likes you, too."

Instantly Grace's heart lightened.

The waitress approached the table with their first course, shrimp bisque for Grace and Caesar salad for Cliff.

"How are Maryellen and Jon?" he asked as he set down his wineglass.

"Happy and deeply in love." In that instant, Grace wished she could withdraw the words. Talking about love was painful; under different circumstances, those words could have referred to them. "They hope to have another child," she said after a pause.

"What about Kelly and Paul?"

Grace sighed. "Kelly still isn't pregnant and she's starting to get worried."

"I'm sure there's no cause for concern."

Grace agreed, and they lapsed into silence again.

The waitress returned to collect their first-course dishes and bring their entrees. She also refilled their wine. Grace took her first taste of sole topped with a creamy shrimp sauce, and Cliff cut into his prime rib. They both made enthusiastic noises about the excellence of the food.

By the time they'd finished their meals, Grace accepted that nothing she said or did had the power to reach Cliff. So she stopped trying. There seemed little point in more small talk about the town or doings at the library or plans for his ranch; that left them with nothing much to say.

After dinner, Grace drove home, even more lonely and depressed. It was hard not to weep and to berate herself—and humbling to admit she'd failed yet again. Olivia and the girls had paid that money for one reason and one reason only. They'd hoped, as Grace had, that Cliff would have a change of heart. He hadn't.

The phone rang at eight o'clock on Saturday morning. Grace was feeding her animals. Automatically she scooped up the receiver and held it to her ear while she doled out the dog and cat food.

"Well?" Olivia demanded. "How'd it go?"

Grace resisted the urge to break into tears. "We had a very nice dinner, but that's it."

"Don't be so sure."

"Olivia," Grace said with an exaggerated sigh. "I was there. I might as well have had dinner with a statue." She switched the phone to her other ear. "The closest I got to seeing the old Cliff was when he showed me a picture of Lisa and her little girl."

"Give him time."

"No." Grace was surprised by the strength of her conviction. "I'm not going to grovel. I made a mistake. I'm sorry. If Cliff Harding can't get past that, then it's his problem, not mine."

Olivia was silent for a long moment. "Grace is that really you?" she finally asked.

"Of course it's me."

"You sound so...emotionally healthy."

"I'm glad you approve."

"I do," Olivia assured her.

Obviously Cliff had chosen to get on with his life— minus Grace. She would let him and at the same time get on with hers.

With a renewed sense of vigor, she weeded and watered her small garden.

At noon, a florist's delivery van parked outside her house. Pulling off her garden gloves, Grace walked around front, wondering if the driver had mistaken the address.

"Ms. Grace Sherman?" The deliveryman held a beautiful bouquet of roses, carnations and irises in a variety of pastel shades.

"Yes." Grace vaguely recognized the young man but couldn't remember his name.

"These are for you." He handed her the vase, turned and left.

Grace carried the arrangement into the house and removed the card. As she read the message, tears clouded her eyes. Life has a funny way of hitting you between the eyes, doesn't it? Thank you for dinner. Cliff.

She didn't know what he meant but she felt this must be a good sign.

Thirty-One

Ben pushed the grocery cart down the produce aisle while Charlotte sorted through the celery. The grocer tended to put the older bunches in front.

"Do you want me to pick up a few bananas?" Ben asked.

"Please." Bananas were the perfect fruit for people their age, in Charlotte's view.

Ben added a small bunch to their cart. He was so helpful in so many ways. Clyde hadn't been the kind of husband who enjoyed shopping, but Ben was more than patient about doing errands. He seemed to enjoy spending time with her. If she had a hair appointment, he drove her there and either waited in the salon or strolled through the mall. After all these years on her own, such open affection—such romantic gestures—were foreign to her. When she was with Ben she felt...treasured. True, his attention had taken a bit of adjustment on her part, since she was so used to her own company. Charlotte slowly pushed the cart ahead, watching as Ben struck up a conversation with the produce manager.

"Charlotte!"

Hearing her name, Charlotte turned to find her son-in-law strolling toward her, wearing a big grin.

"Don't tell me Olivia's got you doing the shopping," Charlotte said.

Jack chuckled and shook his head. "I came to pick up a few things she refuses to buy. Whoever heard of a house without potato chips and pretzels? Olivia said if I was going to eat fat-laden carbohydrates, I'd have to buy them myself. So here I am." He looked over his shoulder, as if he half expected his wife to follow him inside and criticize his food choices. "I don't suppose you know where they keep the microwave popcorn, do you?"

"Aisle five," Charlotte said. "I like the extra-butter kind myself."

"I'm with you," Jack muttered. "I don't know what it is with Olivia these days."

"How do you mean?"

"First she's on this low-fat kick. Okay, I admit I could lose a few pounds, but I looked like this when she married me and it was good enough for her then."

Charlotte knew her daughter's fitness plan had caused arguments between them, but she'd assumed things were better now. Olivia hadn't complained in weeks.

"Then there's this thing with Ben," he added, scowling. "It's ridiculous."

Charlotte stared at him, certain she'd misunderstood. "What thing with Ben?" she demanded. Thankfully Ben was still busy talking.

Jack looked like a man who'd inadvertently stumbled into a swampful of alligators. "Ah...that was a slip of the tongue. Forget it."

"I most certainly will not forget it," Charlotte slammed a bunch of celery into her cart. "You'd better tell me everything!'

"Ah..." Jack faltered. "I, uh..." Finally he gave a resigned sigh. "Olivia's having Roy do a background check on him," he said grimly.

"What?" Charlotte felt her blood pressure rise.

"Charlotte?" Ben asked, joining her. He looked at Jack. "Is there a problem?"

"None whatsoever," Charlotte snapped. She smiled at Ben, who'd been nothing but a gentleman from the moment they met. Now her own daughter had gone behind her back and was having the man she loved investigated. Evidently Olivia had no faith in her intelligence or her judgment. Anyone who spent time with Ben would know he was the gentlest, sweetest, most wonderful man on earth. Olivia had met him many times. How could she do this? Why? The outrage turned to pain and her eyes filled with tears.

"I...I can't believe Olivia would do something like this," she said, trying to hide the hurt her daughter had caused her. Sniffling, she turned away.

Ben was at her side immediately. He slid his arm around her protectively. "What's going on here, Charlotte?"

Charlotte shouldn't have done it, but she told him. "Olivia's having you investigated. I don't know why she'd do such a thing, but apparently she has. Jack just let it slip...."

Ben's mouth thinned with irritation. "Rest assured there's nothing to find."

"Damn my big mouth," Jack muttered. "It isn't all Olivia, you know."

"What do you mean by that?" Charlotte was rigid with anger now.

"Maybe I should just pay for these potato chips and be on my way," Jack suggested, obviously uncomfortable.

"Like hell!"

Ben's eyes widened. Charlotte was not a woman who used that kind of language. In fact, she was shocked herself. But there were times when nothing less than a swearword would do. "You tell me the whole story and I mean now, Jack Griffin."

Jack shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Olivia's going to kill me for this."

"Why? She's guiltier than you are."

Jack shrugged. "You don't know Olivia the way I do."

"She's my daughter—if I don't end up disowning her over this." Charlotte had trouble accepting what her daughter had done. "Who put her up to it?" She leaned forward and glared fiercely at her son-in-law. "You, Jack? Was it you?"

He shook his head, raising his hand in a gesture of surrender. "Not me. Will."

This was even worse than she could've imagined. "You've got to be kidding."

Jack cast Ben an apologetic look.

That just made Charlotte angrier. "How dare he?" she sputtered.

"Now, Charlotte," Ben said in a soothing voice. "Let's talk about this calmly."

But Charlotte was in no mood to be mollified. "You tell my daughter that I'm in love with Ben Rhodes and I have every intention of marrying him."

Head down, Jack nodded like a repentant child.

"On second thought, I'll tell her myself."

Jack raised his index finger. "When you do speak to Olivia, I'd appreciate if you gave me a few minutes' notice first."

Ben chuckled, but Charlotte found nothing humorous in the situation. "Then consider yourself warned."

Jack clearly felt terrible, but she didn't blame him for her daughter's actions. No, she knew exactly who was responsible for this... this insult.

Despite his protest, Charlotte left Ben to deal with the groceries while she marched over to the courthouse. It was a good three-block walk and uphill at that, but Charlotte's indignation drove her all three of those blocks without a single pause. By the time she got there, however, she was winded. Charlotte leaned against one of the courthouse pillars and placed her hand over her pounding heart, taking slow, deep breaths.

Her expression must have conveyed her mood because no one stopped her or delayed her with conversation. After clearing security, she plowed through the crowded hallway to her daughter's courtroom. She shoved open the door decisively and...

Wouldn't you know it, the room was empty. All the better. Charlotte didn't need any witnesses to this confrontation. She went directly to Olivia's chambers. The mahogany door was closed; she knocked once and opened it without waiting for permission.