Читать книгу 1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber - Страница 11

Rachel wasn’t sure that seeing Bruce was a good idea. He’d been persistent, however, and after several conversations about it, she’d finally given in. They’d agreed to meet at the Pancake Palace after work. When she arrived, a few minutes late, Bruce’s car was already parked out front; he’d probably shown up right at five. She wondered if he’d told Jolene where he was going, and doubted he had. Bruce liked to keep the peace. After all, he’d let his daughter take charge of his life and their marriage. Rachel was astonished that she’d stuck around as long as she had. The situation was emotionally unhealthy for all three of them.

Rachel parked several spots down from his car, hesitated for a moment, half tempted to flee, and then locked up. When she entered the restaurant she saw Bruce immediately. He’d chosen a booth facing the door. He smiled as he stood to greet her. Funny how a simple smile could affect her so strongly. She smiled back, accepted his kiss on the cheek and slid into the booth across from him.

“Hi,” he said eagerly, his eyes filled with longing. He stretched his arms across the table and clasped her hands as if he needed to touch her. “You look fantastic.” “Thanks.” She’d taken extra care with her hair and makeup, although she tried not to have high expectations about this meeting.

“You’re feeling better?” he asked. “No problems with the pregnancy?”

“None,” she assured him.

“Everything okay at work?”

She nodded. The past five days, following the fiasco at the salon, had been relatively calm. Jane hadn’t been happy with her afterward, and Rachel couldn’t blame her, but fortunately there’d been no further reference to it.

One night recently when she hadn’t been able to sleep, Rachel had gotten up for a glass of milk and found Nate in the kitchen. They’d talked for almost an hour. He’d been sympathetic, although never intrusive. During this conversation with Nate, she’d realized with greater clarity than ever why Bruce acted the way he did. He hated confrontation and would do anything to avoid it. He coped by ignoring conflicts and tension, by wishing them away. He didn’t want to be caught between his wife and his daughter. She couldn’t fault him for preferring to keep the peace, but his approach didn’t work.

“You need to look after yourself and the baby,” Bruce was saying.

Alicia, the waitress, appeared in her pink uniform with the starched white apron. She automatically poured Bruce a coffee.

“Decaf for me,” Rachel told her.

“Coming right up. How about a piece of pie to go with that?”

“None for me,” Bruce said.

Alicia scowled at him. “I wasn’t asking you. She’s the one who could use a little meat on her bones.”

“No, thanks,” Rachel said, squelching a smile.

Alicia set the coffeepot on the table and started to enumerate the day’s selection of pies. “We got apple, blueberry, coconut cream and peach. The apple’s my favorite but you choose.”

“I …” Rachel looked at Bruce, who was grinning from ear to ear, apparently approving of Alicia’s tactics.

“Apple, it is,” the waitress announced, picked up the coffeepot and hurried into the kitchen.

“She’s almost as bossy as Goldie,” Bruce said, chuckling.

Goldie had been at the Pancake Palace forever, while Alicia, who’d started there maybe twenty years ago, was a relative newcomer.

Actually, a piece of apple pie did sound good. With all this stress—the pregnancy, the separation, the emotional upheaval—Rachel had lost weight she could ill afford to lose.

Alicia reappeared with the decaf and a thick slice of apple pie. “Enjoy,” she said.

“I will.” Rachel reached for her fork but didn’t try even a bite. She needed to hear what Bruce had to say, why he’d wanted to meet. Clutching the fork, she waited until Alicia was out of earshot. “You asked to see me.”

“Yes. It’s time you came home,” Bruce said starkly. “You’re my wife and I love you. You living somewhere else—it’s just plain wrong.” His voice fell. “I worry about you and the baby.”

She knew he meant every word, but nothing about their situation had improved. Judging by the incident at the mall, Jolene was as angry and caustic as ever. Rachel wasn’t wanted nor was she appreciated by her stepdaughter, and her husband wouldn’t deal with the girl’s hostility. Rachel refused to return to an environment that was unhealthy for her and her unborn child.

“What’s changed?” she asked. With great precision, she set the fork aside and studied Bruce.

He cupped his mug with both hands and stared down at it. “I have.” He took in a deep breath. “I failed you as a husband by choosing to ignore the obvious. I hoped the two of you would work it out on your own instead of doing what I could to help. If you come back, I promise I won’t let Jolene say or do anything disrespectful.”

“Bruce, that isn’t enough. I’m sorry but this isn’t going to be resolved just because you tell Jolene to respect me.” Besides, he might be able to control his daughter while he was in the house, although she doubted it, but there were plenty of times when she and Jolene were alone.

His sigh revealed his impatience. “Okay, tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want,” she said emphatically, “to get to the root of the problem and that means seeing a counselor. A family counselor,” she specified. “A professional trained to deal with situations like this.”

“Okay.” He drew out the word.

His reluctance was evident. He’d said yes to counseling a little while ago but it was obviously the last thing he wanted. Bruce had never been keen on the idea of pouring out their personal troubles to a stranger. For her part, Jolene had been violently opposed from the first. It was one of the factors that had led to Rachel’s leaving. “I’ve heard that before and nothing happened. I’d make an appointment and you’d find a reason to cancel or forget or—”

“I only canceled the one time.”

“You said you’d make the next appointment but you didn’t.”

He glanced down at the table. “I—I’ll go. No more excuses. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring you home.”

Rachel reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “That’s a start.”

“But I can tell you right now that Jolene won’t go,” Bruce continued. “And I don’t know how to get her to agree.”

“Still, a trained professional can teach us how to deal with her.”

Bruce frowned. “You really believe that?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

He held her look for a long moment, then shook his head. “I’ll go because it’s what you want, but I don’t hold out a lot of hope that someone neither of us knows is going to help in this situation.”

“In other words, you think counseling is a waste of time?” She spoke slowly, letting him know how much his comment discouraged her.

“The thing is, Rachel, if Jolene begs off, which she already said she intends to do, what will we get out of counseling?”

Sometimes Rachel had to wonder which one of those two was the parent. Bruce had more or less told her everything she needed to hear. Without even sipping her coffee or taking a bite of the pie, Rachel slid out of the booth. What was a waste of time was meeting Bruce. Despite what he’d said, nothing had changed, nor would it. Bruce just wanted their lives to go back to what he thought of as “normal”—the way they’d been this past year. But Rachel would no longer tolerate Jolene’s behavior toward her.

“Where are you going?” Bruce asked, standing, too. He grabbed for her hand as if to stop her.

“All you care about is talking me into moving back home, and you’ll say whatever it takes. Sweeping our problems under the carpet isn’t going to work.”

“I said I’d go to counseling,” Bruce insisted.

Rachel was sure he’d attend one or two sessions, but then he’d find some excuse to cancel. Jolene would simply refuse to go, and Bruce would be powerless to make her. Rachel wasn’t willing to accept half measures. When and if she moved back home, their circumstances had to be completely different.

“Don’t leave, Rachel. Please.”

“It was pointless for us to talk,” she said, tugging her hand free.

“I don’t understand what you want. I’ve offered to go to counseling and that’s not good enough. So what do you want?” he demanded, irritated now.

“I want my husband to be a man who honors my place in his life. A man who doesn’t allow his children to dictate what goes on in his household. A man who’ll cherish his role and mine—and frankly, at this moment, you aren’t that man. And I don’t know if you ever will be.”

Bruce blanched. “Don’t hold back,” he muttered sarcastically. “See how deep you can cut me. I came here hoping you’d be reasonable, hoping to convince you of my love….”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what, Bruce? I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to talk again.”

“Fine. All I ask is that you let me know when the baby’s born.”

“Of course I will, but until then I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my life.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

While it was true that she might have a change of heart, right now she was dead serious. “I do mean it.”

And with that, Rachel walked out of the restaurant.

She didn’t sleep well that night or the next. Thursday afternoon she was with a client when she saw Bruce standing outside the salon. She turned her back, ignoring him.

Jane walked over to her and whispered, “Bruce is here.”

“I know.”

“He wants to speak to you.”

Rachel shook her head. Talking to Bruce wouldn’t help either of them. How many times were they supposed to repeat the same argument?

“Rachel, he’s only going to show up again and again. This is disruptive to you and to everyone here. I told you I didn’t want him back.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want me to call security?”

Having Bruce escorted from the mall was further than she was willing to go. “No. I’ll talk to him.” Setting the curling iron aside, and excusing herself to her client, Rachel stepped outside, where Bruce stood waiting.

He’d buried his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet back and forth like a schoolboy called before the principal. “I didn’t feel good about how our conversation ended the other night.”

It had bothered Rachel, too, although she had no idea how to change anything.

“Won’t you please just come home?”

“No.” She hated to be so inflexible, but she didn’t have any choice. “I told you before and I meant it—I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I don’t want to see you, Bruce. It only upsets me.”

“I can’t stay away, Rachel. I’ve tried but I can’t make myself do it.”

“In other words, you’re determined to hound me.” Thank goodness she’d had the sense not to tell anyone where she was living, not even Teri.

“I want you back.”

Apparently he intended to wear down her defenses until he got what he wanted. It sounded as if he planned to wait outside the salon every day until she moved back to Yakima Street. For her, the problem with that was twofold. First, Jane didn’t want him hanging around, and second, Rachel feared that in time he would wear her down to the point that she’d agree.

“Leave me alone, Bruce.”

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I love you.”

She longed to believe they could make their marriage work. For her sake and for the baby’s. But every time she felt herself weakening, all she had to do was picture Jolene’s face, mocking her with that triumphant smile. The girl had won, and for Rachel there was no going back.

“Don’t come here again, Bruce. I’m warning you, if you do Jane will ask security to step in.”

“Fine, if that’s what it takes to talk to you, then I’ll gladly let them arrest me.”

Rachel didn’t respond to his comment and returned to the salon. She wasn’t sure how long Bruce stood there; she did her best not to look in his direction.

At quitting time, Jane asked the security guard to walk Rachel to her car. While she felt a bit ridiculous, she was grateful to be spared the risk of yet another confrontation with Bruce.

Once she got home, to the house she shared with Nate Olsen, she opened a can of tomato soup and had that and a few cheese slices for dinner. She wasn’t hungry but she ate because of the baby.

Nate arrived around seven. Rachel was sitting in the recliner with her feet elevated. She had the television on and was reading a magazine at the same time. She needed as many distractions as she could get.

Her housemate took one look at her and frowned. “Bad day?”

“You could say that.”

“What happened?”

Unsure how much to tell him, she considered what she should say.

“Wait.” Nate held up one hand. He sat on the edge of the sofa. “Bruce showed up at work again.”

She nodded, but didn’t divulge the details of their conversation. “Jane isn’t happy about it, either.”

“Did he make another scene?”

“Not really, but he threatened to show up every day until I change my mind.”

“That’s awkward. It’s going to cause problems for you, isn’t it?”

She hadn’t mentioned this part of the conversation to her boss. Jane was already upset with her over what had happened a week earlier.

“I might have a solution,” Nate said slowly.

“What?” At the moment everything felt hopeless.

“A temporary position has been posted at the shipyard,” Nate told her. “One of the clerks just had a baby and she’ll be out for five months. The job requires basic computer and administrative skills. Do you think you might want to apply?”

Rachel bit her lip. “Would I have any chance of getting the job?”

“As good a chance as anyone else.”

“Then why not.” Getting on with the shipyard would certainly help her situation. The timing couldn’t have been better. And after the baby was born, she’d have to reassess her options, anyway.

“I know someone in HR and I’ll drop off a résumé for you.”

“Wow, that would be great! Thank you.”

Not surprisingly, the next day after work, Bruce showed up at the salon. Rachel ignored him and after several minutes he left.

“Rachel,” Jane whispered in warning. “I don’t want Bruce hanging around here. Can’t you do something?”

“I already have.” Booking an extended lunch hour, she’d gone to the shipyard employment office, had an interview and taken a test. She didn’t know how well she’d done but it didn’t seem that difficult.

Nate was home early that evening, smiling when he walked in the door. “I talked to Becky, my friend in HR,” he said. He put his briefcase down, opened the refrigerator and removed a cold soda. “You got the highest possible score.”

“I did? Does that mean they might call me in for another interview? Did you tell her that if she hired me I’d give her a free haircut?”

Nate laughed. “No, because that might be construed as bribery.”

Rachel smiled, optimistic for the first time in weeks. Months.

“The position will be posted for another couple of days and then Becky will notify the applicant who’s been chosen. You’ll know one way or the other by the end of the week.”

“Thanks again, Nate.”

He shrugged off her appreciation. “Anything for a friend.”

Rachel had a good feeling about this short-term position. It was perfect for her. The shipyard obviously agreed because a few days later Rachel received word that she had the job.