Cedar Cove Collection

“What’s going on here?” he asked, obviously surprised to find Olivia and Troy in his home.

“Dan!” Grace’s relief at seeing him was so great, she started to weep. “Oh, Dan. Dear God in heaven, where were you? I’ve been out of my mind with worry.”

He ignored her. “Is there a problem here, Troy?” he asked stiffly.

“No.” The sheriff stood, tore the report free from his clipboard and folded it in half. He handed it to Grace and, without a word of farewell, headed out the front door.

“I’d better get ready for court,” Olivia said. She glared fiercely in Dan’s direction and quickly left.

“You called the sheriff?” Dan said as soon as they were alone. He glowered at her as though she’d done something wrong.

“Where were you?” Grace cried again, unable to hold back her anger or her tears. “Don’t you realize what you put me through?”

“It’s none of your damn business where I was.”

“Like hell!” she shouted. “You’re my husband.”

Dan scowled darkly. “I refuse to allow this marriage to be a ball and chain around my neck.”

Grace was so shocked, she couldn’t restrain herself. “You go out and spend the entire night God-knows-where,” she screamed, “and then casually come home as if nothing happened? You expect me to pretend everything’s all right?” She couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t.

“Where I was and what I was doing are my own damn business.” He marched into the bedroom. Grace followed him.

“You were with another woman, weren’t you?” Her heart ached as she asked the question.

“Yeah, Gracie, I was with someone else.”

“Who is she?”

Dan’s responding laugh lacked humor.

“I have a right to know that much.”

Dan refused to answer her question. Then he went to his drawer and took out a fresh change of underwear. “I haven’t got time for this.”

“You don’t have time,” she repeated. How dared he, after all the anguish he’d caused? For a moment she thought she was going to be physically ill.

He stomped into the bathroom. Grace went in the opposite direction and slammed the bedroom door so hard their daughters’ graduation pictures flew off the wall. They crashed onto the hardwood floor of the hallway, shattering the glass.

Horrified by what she’d done, Grace stared at the beautiful faces of her children and wanted to grind her teeth with frustration.

“Go to hell!” she yelled at her husband.

The bedroom door opened and Dan stood there. He wore a hard, unyielding look. “Been there, Gracie. What else would you call the last thirty-five years?”

Grace didn’t show up for their next exercise class. Olivia knew that relations with Dan had been rocky since his disappearing act. Grace hadn’t explained Dan’s disappearance or where he’d been, and Olivia didn’t pry. If there was another woman involved, then the matter was best settled between husband and wife. Still, Olivia couldn’t help worrying.

In addition to that, she had other concerns. At the top of her list just now was Justine.

Her daughter had been avoiding her again, despite Olivia’s efforts to build a bridge between them. She longed for them to be close, the way she was with her own mother. Perhaps it was too late for that; she hoped not and would willingly make any overtures. She vowed that under no circumstances would she bring up the subject of Warren Saget. Olivia’s one wish was that she and Justine simply enjoy each other’s company.

Olivia had invited Justine for lunch on Saturday, and Justine had accepted. Using one of her mother’s favorite recipes, she prepared a main-dish chicken salad. Personally, Olivia would have preferred a restaurant meal, which would’ve been easier all around. Having lunch here, however, would allow for a more relaxed, casual atmosphere—and greater privacy. At a restaurant there was always the chance they’d run into someone they knew and get sidetracked.

Justine showed up right on time. She brought a small bouquet of yellow daffodils and gave Olivia a perfunctory kiss on the cheek as she walked into the house.

“How thoughtful,” Olivia said, touched by the gesture. She found a vase for the flowers and set them in the middle of the kitchen table.

“It’s been a while since we’ve gotten together for lunch,” Justine commented, grabbing a breadstick from the table.

“Too long.” Olivia removed the salad from the refrigerator, filled two plates, and carried them to the table. A kettle of water waited on the stove for tea later on.

Her beautiful daughter sat across from her, and Olivia had the sudden urge to speak from her heart. “I don’t think I tell you often enough how much I love you.”

Justine stared at her as if she didn’t know how to react, then smiled. “This has to do with James, doesn’t it?”

Nothing could be further from the truth. Still, she asked, “How do you mean?”

“I know it was a shock, his suddenly getting married like that, without any of the family even knowing or being there.”

“This has nothing to do with your brother, and everything to do with us.” Olivia found herself growing irritated with both Justine and herself. It shouldn’t be so difficult to tell your child she was deeply loved.

“Oh, Mother, don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“You’re worried about the fact that I’m seeing Warren and—”

“This has nothing to do with your boyfriend, either.”

Her daughter laughed. “Boyfriend? You make me sound sixteen.”

“Justine,” Olivia said, trying to control her irritation. “As I told you, this isn’t about your brother, your boyfriend, your job or anything else. I’m your mother, and I want us to be able to talk, to share, to laugh together, and I’m hoping you want that, too. I’ve felt…I don’t know, that we’re somewhat estranged these days. Distant. I don’t know why it’s happened, but I don’t like it. I love you.”

If Justine rolled her eyes, Olivia swore she’d…well, she didn’t know what she’d do. Weep, maybe.

Justine didn’t make a scornful face or flip remark; in fact she seemed to have difficulty taking in the words. She went still and after a moment, she met Olivia’s gaze and whispered, “I love you, too, Mom.”

Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat and picked up her fork. Perhaps there was hope of reaching her daughter, after all.

“What would you like to discuss?” Justine asked.

Olivia wasn’t sure. She quickly reviewed a number of topics and remembered a notice in Wednesday’s paper. Not wanting to mention the source for fear of diverting the conversation to her relationship with Jack Griffin, she spoke in an offhand manner. “It’s your ten-year class reunion this year, isn’t it?”

Justine set down her fork and sighed. “Yes, I know.”

Ten years? It hardly seemed possible. “You’ll be attending, of course.”

To Olivia’s surprise, her daughter hesitated. “Actually, I’m not sure.”