50 Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)

50 Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5) Page 23

Corrie had to admit she wasn’t following the movie, either. Her thoughts weren’t on the rather complicated caper plot but on the child she’d never known. The child she’d given up for adoption.

Twenty-Three

“I’m ordering cheesecake,” Grace said as she slid into a booth at the Pancake Palace. She and Olivia had finished their Wednesday night aerobics class and decided to talk over coffee and pie. Coconut cream, however, wasn’t going to do it for Grace. She was disgruntled and unhappy, and one look told her Olivia felt the same way.

“We’re both ordering cheesecake,” Olivia said as she took the seat across from Grace.

“You first,” Grace said. They’d been best friends since grade school and were still as close as sisters. She kept almost nothing from Olivia and knew her friend trusted her unequivocally. Theirs was a special friendship.

“It’s Jack,” Olivia said with a groan. “Does that surprise you?”

“No.”

Goldie, their favorite waitress, came over, carrying a pot of decaf. “The usual?” she asked, as she filled their mugs. Olivia and Grace were creatures of habit. Every Wednesday night, they attended their exercise class and afterward went directly to the Pancake Palace for pie and coffee.

Grace hesitated at the waitress’s question and shrugged.

Olivia did, too.

“We’ve got mincemeat this week,” Goldie told them in a tempting voice.

“No, thanks,” Olivia said automatically.

Grace considered it for a second. “Coconut cream,” she muttered, half angry with herself for being so unwilling to venture from the tried and true. If she couldn’t make such a small change, then how could she manage a truly significant one?

Goldie returned a moment later with one slice of coconut cream pie and the other of lemon meringue, plus the check.

“You’re upset with Jack?” Grace said, prompting Olivia to resume their conversation.

“Damn straight I am. Good grief, I hardly see him! I was so annoyed when he broke our movie date. I can’t tell you how much I was looking forward to the four of us going out. We hardly ever do that.”

“I was disappointed, too,” Grace said. Who’d believe that dinner and a movie would be the highlight of the Christmas season for them both?

Olivia seemed to rally. “Did you and Cliff have a good time?” she asked.

“We’ll discuss that later. Finish telling me what happened between you and Jack.”

To Grace’s astonishment, Olivia’s eyes filled with tears. “We had an argument that night. Jack didn’t get home until midnight—okay, ten o’clock, but it might as well have been midnight. He was at the office all day. You’d think the sun rises and falls on The Chronicle. It’s all he lives for, and frankly I hate it.” Angrily she wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to get emotional. It’s just that we seem to be at an impasse.”

“You’re not thinking…” Grace couldn’t bring herself to say the word divorce.

“No, but things have got to change. Jack works too hard, he eats mostly fast food and doesn’t get any exercise. He’s going to kill himself if he continues at this pace.” She lowered her eyes. “He thinks this is all one big joke. He said the other day that if he keeled over, what I’d miss most was regular sex.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “Leave it to a man to reduce everything to that.”

“He’s promised his schedule will change after the first of the year, but I’ve heard those promises before. I just don’t want him to kill himself over a stupid newspaper.”

“He loves you, Olivia.”

“I know and I love him, too. I bought him a treadmill for Christmas.”

“Good. Maybe Jack will take the hint.”

“He’s so stubborn, though.”

Grace couldn’t help smiling. “What man isn’t?”

Now Olivia smiled, too. She reached for her fork and cut into her lemon meringue. “All right, enough about me and Jack. What’s going on with you and Cliff?”

Grace sighed heavily. “Cliff fell asleep during the movie. I woke him up when he started snoring—loudly.”

Olivia burst into laughter.

“Olivia Lockhart Griffin, this is not funny.”

Her friend made an effort to restrain her amusement.

“Ten minutes later, he was snoring again. I’d had it, and we left the theater.” In truth, Olivia should be grateful she’d missed out on their evening. Cliff had been exhausted. He’d been working with his horses all day and ended up feeling tired and cranky. Dinner after the movie had been dismal.

“I’m so disappointed I could’ve cried.”

“What is it with our men?” Olivia asked.

“I don’t know. But I’m sick of this,” Grace said. “It’s like I’m married with none of the benefits.”

“No regular sex?” Olivia teased.

“You might be my best friend, but there are some things I will not divulge, even to you, and my love life is one of them.”

“In other words, you don’t have one.”

“In other words, you’re right.”

They both laughed and it felt good. Christmas was four days away and she was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with her girls and then go to Cliff’s late Christmas morning. But Grace found she was having second thoughts about seeing Cliff at all.

“What are we going to do?” Olivia asked. “Jack will think it’s very clever of me to buy him a treadmill, but I can’t make him exercise. Nor can I keep him away from double bacon cheeseburgers.”

“I can’t make Cliff love me.”

That comment obviously shook Olivia. “Cliff does love you,” she insisted.

Grace used to believe that, too, but these days she wasn’t so sure. “We had a wonderful Thanksgiving, but now we’re in a rut. Being with me seems more of a burden than a joy. Our date last Saturday was an obligation he felt he had to fulfill. I certainly didn’t enjoy myself and I doubt he did, either.”

“So what’s next?”

That was a question worth contemplating. “I wish I knew.”

“Just promise me you won’t do anything until after Christmas.”

Grace made a wry face. “Here’s how Christmas will go. I’ll arrive at Cliff’s around noon, make dinner and then knit while he falls asleep in front of the television.” She’d wash the dinner dishes, kiss him goodbye and let herself out. She might as well stay home with her dog and cat; Buttercup and Sherlock were frequently better company. “Some time the next morning,” Grace concluded her scenario, “Cliff will phone and apologize and then we’ll start all over again.”

“Cliff needs his cage rattled,” Olivia suggested, tapping her finger against her lips.

“That sounds ominous.”

“You feel like you’re married but don’t have any of the benefits? Then tell him you want to marry him.”

“You think I should propose?”

“Yes,” Olivia said. “That should wake him up.”

“I want to get Cliff’s attention, not give him a heart attack.”

“Force him to make a decision—a commitment.”

Grace could just imagine the look on his face, but maybe Olivia was right. It was time to either make that commitment or walk away. However, Grace didn’t know if she had the courage to follow through on any kind of ultimatum.

“Well?” Olivia pressed.

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve got to do something,” Olivia said firmly, scraping up the last of her pie.

That was true enough, but suggesting marriage seemed rather drastic. “I’m afraid,” she admitted after a thoughtful moment.

“What are you afraid of?” Olivia asked.

Grace set her fork aside and picked up her coffee, then put it down again. “I don’t know.” That wasn’t the complete truth. She knew. Her biggest fear was that Cliff would tell her he had no marriage plans. Or none with her, anyway.

“Grace?” Olivia stretched her arm across the table and squeezed her hand. “You’ve gone pale.”

She managed a shaky smile. “I’m still waiting for the effects of that pie to kick in.”

“Are you going to do it?” Olivia asked.

Grace took a deep breath. “I believe I will. It’s time I learned where I stand with Cliff.”

Twenty-Four

Christmas morning Maryellen woke cozy and warm in bed with her husband’s arms around her. She sighed happily and turned to face him.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered, and discovered that Jon had raised himself on one elbow, looking down at her. His eyes brimmed with love as he leaned over and kissed her forehead.

“Merry Christmas,” he echoed. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know yet.” She lifted her head tentatively and waited a moment. All seemed well. Her stomach hadn’t immediately started to heave and that was a good sign. This pregnancy wasn’t as difficult as the last, the infant son she’d miscarried. This time, she’d been experiencing some morning nausea but it wasn’t debilitating.

Jon remained fearful that it’d been a mistake to get pregnant so soon. That was irrelevant now. She hadn’t tricked him; he knew she wasn’t using birth control and it was bound to happen sooner or later. He’d just assumed, as she did, that it would be later. When it turned out not to be, Maryellen was surprised herself—and overjoyed. She wanted Katie to have a brother or sister and she didn’t want to wait much longer. As it was, she was almost forty.

“You’ll notice Katie’s still asleep.”

“Little wonder.” They’d gathered at Kelly and Paul’s home with Maryellen’s mother for Christmas Eve. Katie and Tyler had played together, racing around the Christmas tree, their laughter ringing through the house. It had been a late night, but Katie was too excited to fall asleep until almost midnight.

“I’m thinking,” Jon whispered as his warm hand closed over her breast, “that we have a good hour to ourselves.” He pressed his erection against her and kissed her with an urgency that spoke of his need. “Wouldn’t you say this is the perfect time to begin a new holiday tradition?”

“That sounds interesting,” Maryellen murmured happily. She loved this man and knew that if she’d let him walk out of her life, she would have lost herself, too—lost the woman she was meant to be.

An hour later, they sat in the living room, each holding a mug of coffee, and gazed out at the view of Seattle. It was still dark, so the lights of the city shimmered in the distance. Jon settled his arm around her shoulders.

“Do you think we should wake Katie?” Maryellen asked.

“If we do, I have a feeling we’ll live to regret it.”

Jon was right. Katie tended to wake up whiny, especially after a late night. Besides, Maryellen cherished this private time with her husband and didn’t want to squander it.