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Thirteen

While reading the February 7th issue of the Bremerton newspaper, Jack surreptitiously watched his son out of the corner of his eye. They’d just finished a dinner of microwave lasagna and ice cream. Immediately afterward, Eric had begun to pace the small, compact living room of Jack’s waterfront rental house as though he found it impossible to keep still. The boy had been getting on Jack’s nerves for weeks. They’d had more than one verbal confrontation during the months since Eric had moved in with him. Ironically, instead of driving them apart, their arguments seemed to have cemented their relationship as father and son.

When Eric had first arrived, they’d both been careful, each afraid of saying or doing something to upset the other. That awkwardness soon dissipated when what was supposed to be only a few days had stretched into nearly five months. There was definitely a degree of irritation, but at least it was honest and they’d finally moved beyond the superficial.

“Would you stop pacing!” Jack shouted when he could tolerate it no longer. He closed the newspaper and tossed it on the footstool as Eric glared at him from across the room.

“I can’t help it,” Eric muttered. “I think better on my feet.”

Jack expelled his breath in a rush, his patience in short supply these days. Briefly he wondered how Eric’s co-workers handled his bursts of nervous energy. He wished he had Olivia to distract him, but she was busy with her mother. If she wasn’t at the hospital, then she was entertaining her big brother. Jack hadn’t seen her in almost a week and damn it all, he missed her.

“What’s your problem now?” Jack barked.

Eric looked mulishly back at him and said nothing.

It went without saying that it had to do with Shelly and the twins. Jack had never seen anyone agonize over a woman more than his son.

“Are you getting her anything for Valentine’s next week?” Jack ventured.

Eric whirled around. “You think I should?”

“When was the last time you talked to her?”

Eric glanced away. “A week ago. I called to see how she’s doing.”

“I thought you’d decided to walk away.” Jack didn’t agree with that decision, but this was his son’s life, not his. He wanted to support Eric in whatever he decided about Shelly and these two babies. But as far as Jack was concerned, it didn’t matter if Eric was the biological father or not; these twins were going to need a daddy. After meeting Shelly and getting to know her, he was convinced the children were Eric’s, despite medical evidence to the contrary. Shelly simply wasn’t the kind of woman who’d fool around and it was clear she still loved Eric, regardless of everything that had happened.

“I tried to forget about her,” Eric snapped. “But I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Jack felt he had to help his son. “You know, Eric,” he said calmly, “those babies could be your own flesh and blood.” He’d pointed it out before; after all, the doctor at the fertility clinic had acknowledged there was a slight—make that minuscule—chance. But it was still a chance.

Eric flopped down on the sofa and buried his face in his hands. “You think I haven’t prayed for that? I wish to hell I’d never gone and had my sperm checked.” He hesitated, shoulders hunched forward, and when he spoke again his voice was so low Jack had to strain to hear him. “Last week when I talked to Shelly, I suggested we get married and raise the babies together.”

“That’s terrific,” Jack said before he realized Shelly had obviously turned him down. Otherwise his son wouldn’t be moping around, as miserable as he’d ever been.

“It would be terrific if she’d agreed.” Eric’s voice throbbed with pain.

Jack wanted to kick himself for being so insensitive. “I’m sorry.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Women can be unreasonable.”

“You’re telling me?” Eric asked.

Jack chuckled.

“You and Olivia seem to be getting along okay, though. I like her, Dad. She’s good for you.”

“I like her, too.” They got along exceptionally well—or had until recently. In the last few months, it seemed that life kept getting in the way of their developing relationship.

“Listen, Dad,” Eric said, straightening. “It’s time I got on with my life. Shelly’s made it obvious that we’re through. I figured she’d come to her senses and we could settle this, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.”

“Not for lack of trying on your part.” Although Jack liked Shelly a lot, he thought she was being more than a little stubborn. He understood her feeling of betrayal about the fact that Eric had accused her of sleeping with another man, but his son had turned himself inside out in an effort to appease her. Apparently nothing he said or did could satisfy Shelly.

“None of that matters anymore.”

Jack studied his son. His voice rang with a determination and strength Jack hadn’t heard in a long time. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve applied within the company for a transfer.”

“To where?”

“Reno, Nevada.”

Suddenly tense, Jack clenched his fists. “And you got it?”

“Not yet, but I’m first on the list. I should know in the next couple of months. Once I hear, you can have your house back.” He said this with a flippant air. “I’m sure that’ll be a big relief.”

“True—and not true.” Jack didn’t want any misunderstanding; he craved his privacy but was grateful for this opportunity to know his son better. “I’ve enjoyed having you around, even though you drive me crazy.”

“We drive each other crazy, but it’s been good. I owe you a great deal, Dad.”

They hugged quickly, and Eric walked toward his room. “I know it isn’t going to make any difference, but I think I’ll send Shelly flowers for Valentine’s Day.”

“Flowers,” Jack repeated. He’d make sure Olivia received a big bouquet, too. It was the traditional gift.

“I’ll leave the card blank,” Eric added. “She’ll know they’re from me.” With that, he disappeared into the bedroom.

So Eric would be moving out and from the sound of it, the transfer would come soon. Jack sank down on the sofa, closing his eyes. He decidedly had mixed feelings about this, but there was one major benefit. He could get his own love life back on track.

He liked everything about Olivia—her looks, her smarts, her class. He loved the way she laughed at his stupid jokes and how she made him feel when he was with her. Okay, okay, he’d admit he often thought about making love to her. It hadn’t happened yet, but…

Excitement flooded him at the prospect of resuming their relationship, picking up where they’d left off. He’d learned a long time ago that Olivia prized honesty above all else. Knowing that, he planned on being completely straightforward; he’d confess his feelings and ask where she felt the relationship was going—and where she wanted it to go.

Standing he reached for his coat. “I’m heading out for a while,” he called to Eric.

Thinking about Olivia made him miss her even more. They’d only talked once that week, very briefly. When he’d gone to visit Charlotte at the hospital, Olivia hadn’t been there. Jack didn’t feel he could press Charlotte about her daughter’s whereabouts, but he was curious. Then, as he was leaving, he’d run into her in the hospital lobby; she’d been with her brother and had made somewhat perfunctory introductions, her mind clearly on something else.

It probably wasn’t proper form to show up unannounced, especially at a stressful time like this, but he did have a good excuse. Charlotte wrote the Seniors’ Page each week and did a fabulous job of it. Her friend Laura had willingly stepped in, but Jack needed to know Charlotte’s prognosis and when he could expect her back. It wasn’t a question he felt comfortable asking the older woman, so he’d use that as an excuse to drop in on Olivia.

As he drove down Lighthouse Road, Jack whistled, his mood light. The situation with Eric and Shelly wasn’t ideal, but his son had done everything possible to salvage the relationship. He didn’t blame the boy for wanting to get on with his life.

Jack loved Olivia’s big old-fashioned house with the dormers, the square-paned windows and the wraparound porch. Light blazed from the front windows, spilling warmth onto the porch. His heart swelled as he anticipated her opening the door, imagining her smile, her kiss….

Jack parked and hurried up the steps to her door. He leaned against the doorjamb, struck what he hoped was a sexy pose and rang the bell.

Only a few seconds passed before the door opened—and Jack came eye to eye with Stan Lockhart, Olivia’s ex-husband. Jack immediately straightened. He’d met Stan last May and had disliked him on sight. From the look the other man gave him now, the feeling was mutual.

“Who is it?” Olivia called from some distance away. She was probably in the kitchen. Music from Credence Clearwater Revival played in the background.

“Your boyfriend’s here,” Stan shouted over his shoulder.

Jack noticed that he was left to wait on the porch until Olivia arrived. The instant she got there, she threw open the door and greeted him effusively. Grabbing his hands, she pulled him into the house.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your party,” he said, feeling like an intruder. He noticed she wore the bracelet he’d given her and that helped ease his mind.

“You’re not,” she insisted, wrapping her arm around his. “You’ve met my brother, Will.”

Jack awkwardly nodded in Will’s direction.

“And of course you know Stan.”

Again the brief nod.

“We’re celebrating Mom’s release from the hospital. She’s doing really well, better than anyone expected. She’ll be coming home in the morning! The doctors assured us they got all the cancer, which is a huge relief. She’s still going to have some precautionary chemotherapy, but everything looks very hopeful.”

“That is good news,” Jack said. His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused his attention on Stan.

“Stan and I are old friends,” Will explained. “This was the only time we could all get together before I fly back to Atlanta.”

Jack appreciated the explanation. “I won’t keep you,” he said. “I just stopped by on the spur of the moment to see how Charlotte’s doing.”

“Please stay,” Olivia urged.

He shook his head, invented an excuse and left as soon as he could. Olivia walked him out to his car but not before he saw Stan watching her. A chill went through Jack, leaving him as cold as ice. In that split second, Jack had read the other man’s look.

Stan Lockhart was in love with Olivia and he wanted her back.

* * *

Grace grabbed her workout clothes and headed for the YWCA for her regular Wednesday-night class. Because of Charlotte’s surgery, Olivia had skipped the last two weeks, but she’d promised to show up tonight. Charlotte had been out of the hospital for a couple of days but she’d been staying at Olivia’s; she’d be moving home on Friday. Grace was anxious to see her friend. They’d spoken earlier in the day and Olivia had sounded short-tempered, which was unlike her. Obviously something upsetting had happened, but Olivia hadn’t had time to explain. Grace just hoped it wasn’t anything affecting Charlotte.

She waited in the parking lot, leaning against her car, until Olivia parked in the space next to hers. Her friend climbed out of her own car and jerked her gym bag off the front seat.

“What happened?” Grace asked.

“Jack and I got into it earlier today,” she muttered.

“You and Jack? But I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” she said. “I tried to reason with him, but it was impossible.” Her face reddened.

“So what happened? What was the argument about?”

“He called me first thing this morning, and you wouldn’t believe what he said to me.”

Grace practically had to run in order to keep up with her as they started toward the gym. “What did he say?”

“He’s jealous of Stan. Good grief, Stan and I have been divorced for sixteen years! He’s been married to Marge almost that long. But that’s not the half of it.” Venting her frustration, she shoved open the gym door. Stopping abruptly, she crossed her arms. “Enough! I can’t talk about it anymore. Every time I do, I get more upset.”

As always, the gym was bustling with all kinds of activities. Weaving through the crowded entry, Grace followed Olivia into the locker room, where they began to change into their workout clothes. Grace sat on the bench and put on her tennis shoes.

Olivia yanked off her sweater and slacks; she wore her leotard and tights underneath. She adjusted the tights, snapping the waistband viciously. Grace cringed. Then Olivia pulled on her sweatband, disarranging her hair.

“How are Justine and Seth doing?” Grace asked, broaching a new subject. She didn’t know what else Jack had said, but it must’ve been a hell of a fight.

Olivia sagged onto the bench. “Poor Justine is worrying herself sick about this restaurant. She’s working too hard, and the only person she’ll listen to is Seth. I’m absolutely delighted that she’s pregnant, but I do think they might have waited a few months.”

Grace understood Olivia’s concern. They hadn’t been married long but they’d already started on their family and a new business. To complicate their lives, Justine continued to work at the bank and, as far as Grace knew, Seth was still employed at the marina. In addition, they were having extensive remodeling done at the restaurant. Between getting bids and working with contractors, the young couple was run ragged.

“Your mother’s doing okay?” Grace asked next.

Olivia nodded. “Mom’s weak and she sleeps quite a bit, but she’s doing remarkably well.”

Grace was relieved to hear that.

Olivia glanced at her and then said, “Cliff sent the most beautiful floral arrangement. He really is very thoughtful.”

Grace didn’t want to talk about Cliff Harding. She hadn’t seen him since the Saturday they were interrupted by Kelly. Her daughter had been rude and unfriendly and Grace was embarrassed by the way Kelly had treated him. Cliff had returned later that afternoon, but the mood was broken. She’d wanted to apologize, tell him how much she regretted Kelly’s intrusion. She’d let it slide, just as she’d allowed so many things to slide during her marriage. Cliff hadn’t brought up the subject, either, and now it hung between them like an argument they hadn’t resolved.

“When’s Will flying out?”

“He left this afternoon. I’m going to miss him.” Olivia gave a deep sigh. “Despite the circumstances, this was a good trip. It’s been a long time since the two of us had a chance to visit.”

“Maybe he’ll consider vacationing here more often,” Grace said.

“I hope he does. Will’s a wonderful man.”

“I think so, too.”

Olivia stood for a moment, frowning.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head as though to dispel her thoughts. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she said, urging Grace toward the room where the aerobics class was held.

Most Wednesdays, Grace enjoyed this class. She’d reluctantly agreed to it when Olivia had asked her a year earlier; she wasn’t athletically inclined and had never enjoyed exercising. What made it tolerable was knowing she could count on seeing her best friend at least once a week. But because the class was demanding, the only opportunities they had to talk were before and after the workout. Sometimes they found themselves standing in the parking lot, chatting for an hour or more.

That night, by the time class was over, Grace had worked up a sweat. Thank goodness for the cool-down exercises, she thought; her heart was pounding furiously. Olivia’s face was red and her hair drenched. She’d driven herself harder than ever, working out her frustrations over Jack, Grace suspected.

“I needed that,” Olivia said as they made their way back to the ladies’ locker room. “I’m still so mad at Jack I could spit.”

“It isn’t just Jack,” Grace told her. “It’s everything. You’re worried about Justine and the baby. Your mother just had major surgery, and there’s all the emotional turmoil around that. Now Jack’s acting like a hurt little boy because he found you and Will and Stan having dinner one night and he wasn’t invited.”

Olivia wiped her face with a towel and reached for her shampoo.

“You’re being pulled from every side,” Grace went on. “Your mother, your daughter and Jack.”

“You’re right, I am,” Olivia admitted. She looped the towel around her neck. “That’s exactly the way I feel.” She sat down on the bench and sighed. “I really am worried about Justine, but she won’t listen to me. She thinks I’m an old fuddy-duddy because I’m concerned that she’s doing too much while she’s in the early stages of her pregnancy.”

“And then there’s Jack.”

“Ah yes, Jack.” Olivia’s voice softened somewhat. “I feel bad about our fight. I lost my temper.”

“Call him,” Grace said. “My guess is he’ll be thrilled to hear from you.”

Olivia considered the suggestion a moment, then shook her head. “Not yet. Give me time to calm down and I might reconsider.”

“Want to go out for dinner?” She wouldn’t have offered, since her budget was tight these days, but she knew Olivia still needed to talk.

“Come to my place. I’ve got plenty of leftovers. Mom’s friends made her enough meals to last a month. There’s a huge dish of broccoli lasagna.”

“You’re on.” Grace so seldom cooked meals anymore that anything homemade sounded heavenly.

Two hours later, lulled by a tasty meal, a glass of red wine and the sweet alto voice of Anne Murray, they sat in Olivia’s living room. Charlotte was sound asleep in the back bedroom.

Relaxed, Grace accepted a second glass of wine and closed her eyes. “What would you think if I called Jack?” she asked. “We used to do that in high school, remember? If I had an argument with my boyfriend, you’d call and smooth the way for me.”

Olivia giggled softly, sitting beside Grace on the sofa. “Of course I remember, but it sounds a bit juvenile, don’t you think?”

“And your point is?” Grace asked.

Olivia laughed. “Go ahead. See what he says.”

Grace didn’t need to be told twice. This was silly, but fun, too. Olivia gave her the portable phone and Grace found Jack’s number on speed dial, then waited for the phone to ring.

Just before Jack answered, she changed her mind and passed the phone to Olivia. “I don’t know what to say.” She was afraid Olivia was going to cut the connection. Instead her friend held the phone to her ear.

“It’s me,” she said. “I wanted to apologize for blowing up at you this afternoon.”

Olivia didn’t say anything for several moments, then she slowly smiled. “You’re forgiven, too.” She laughed at whatever he said. “You can thank Grace. She was the one who insisted I had to patch this up. As usual, my friend was right.”

Soon after, Olivia disconnected and looked over at Grace. “Thanks,” she whispered.

Grace felt good. “You’re welcome.”

“Do you want me to call Cliff for you now?”

She shook her head, but Olivia ignored her. “His number?”

“Olivia!”

“Don’t make me look it up,” she said. “And don’t tell me you don’t know what it is, either.”

“Oh, all right.”

To her surprise Olivia didn’t immediately hand her the receiver. She waited until Cliff had answered, then said. “Hi, Cliff, this is Olivia Lockhart. I wanted to thank you for the flowers you sent Mom. They’re absolutely lovely.” After a brief discussion of Charlotte’s prognosis, she said, “I have someone here who wants to say hello.” She handed Grace the receiver.

Grace drew in a deep breath and tried to relax as she brought the phone to her ear. “Hello, Cliff.”

“Grace.” He sounded both surprised and pleased. “I thought Olivia was staying with her mother.”

“Not exactly—Charlotte’s staying here. But once she’s back in her own house, her friends want to take turns spending the night with her. I’m here because Olivia and I went to our aerobics class and then had dinner and a couple of glasses of wine.”

“Ah, that explains it. You’re feeling brave enough to talk to me.”

“Something like that.”

“We never did finish our conversation that Saturday, did we?”

“No,” Grace admitted.

“Are you willing to try again?”

It was as if she really had reverted to being a teenager. “I’d like that very much,” she said shyly.

“So would I,” Cliff said, and then repeated, “So would I.”

Sharon Castor, Rosie Cox’s attorney in the matter of her divorce from Zach, had explained that the next step was a settlement hearing. Both parties would meet with their attorneys at a mutually agreed-upon location to go over the final details of the case, including child custody.

They were scheduled to meet at the library in the courthouse. The main problem had to do with the children. If they couldn’t agree on custody and division of property, they’d go before the judge in an informal hearing. Sharon had said the judge’s decision wasn’t binding, but it was most likely what would be decided if the suit went to trial. Meeting with the judge informally would save everyone time and expense, which suited Rosie. She wanted this over as quickly as possible. Now that the process had been set in motion, she was eager to get out of this disastrous marriage.

For the first time since Zach had become a partner in the accounting firm, lack of money was an issue. While they were married, they’d lived on a budget and Rosie had been good about keeping their expenses within the confines of that—admittedly generous—monthly allotment. All of a sudden, she had less than half the money she’d had before, and it was difficult to meet expenses. The financial difficulties she’d experienced since Zach moved out of the house were bad enough. But he’d taken half the furniture and half the linens and half of just about everything else. A dozen times a day she’d reach for something to find it wasn’t there. It was a harsh reminder of her husband’s absence from the family.

Sharon Castor and Rosie were seated in the library when Zach and his attorney arrived. Rosie had found Sharon’s number in the phone book. She’d chosen her without references or anyone’s recommendation because she was too embarrassed to admit to her friends that she needed an attorney. She wanted a female lawyer and she liked the name Castor. Rosie wasn’t a spiteful woman, but she wanted Zach to feel like he’d swallowed a dose of castor oil by the time she finished with him. He deserved no less after what he’d done to their family.

Rosie and Sharon waited in silence while Zach and Otto sat across from them.

Rosie set her clenched hands on the table and so did Zach. She avoided eye contact with either Zach or his attorney. A sick feeling invaded the pit of her stomach. It’d started earlier that morning and grown progressively worse all day.

“Did you fill out your portion of the parenting plan?” Otto Benson asked Sharon.

“We did.” Sharon shoved the paperwork across the table for Zach and his lawyer to review.

What amazed Rosie was how civilized they were all acting. Her life was being ripped apart and for pride’s sake she had to sit like a fifty-pound sack of flour and pretend everything was fine.

Zach and Otto put their heads close together and started whispering.

“This isn’t going to work,” Otto said without emotion. “My client loves his children and he doesn’t feel they’ll receive adequate attention if they remain in their mother’s sole custody.”

“You can’t possibly believe that!” Rosie exploded. Zach was as much as saying she was an unfit mother.

Sharon Castor placed her hand on Rosie’s forearm. “Do you mean your client believes the children would be better off living with him?”

“Yes,” Otto answered for Zach.

“In a two-bedroom apartment?” Rosie burst out. This was a joke; it had to be. She was astonished that Zach would even suggest such a thing. Then it dawned on her. Zach wanted the house. He wanted to kick her out of her own home. Move her out and within short order he’d probably install Janice Lamond. The thought infuriated her.

“I could afford a larger apartment if I wasn’t forced to pay all your expenses. It would help if you got a job.” Zach’s voice was close to a snarl.

Rosie glared at him, hardly able to believe that she’d once loved this man. Loved him enough to abandon her career and bear his children. Now just looking at him made her sick.

“That brings up a point I wanted to address,” Sharon Castor said, as emotionless as Benson had been. Rosie marveled at the other woman’s calm, but presumably she was accustomed to this kind of situation. “Rosie’s going to need classes for retraining and updating her teaching skills.”

“The hell she does,” Zach said and pounded the table so hard the papers nearly slid onto the floor. “Rosie has a college degree. What more does she need?”

Rosie started at the violence she saw in him. It shocked her, but she supposed it shouldn’t. She’d never believed her husband of sixteen years would cheat on her, either. While she didn’t have proof Janice Lamond was sleeping with Zach, she certainly had her suspicions.

“It’s true my client has a degree in education, but it’s been a number of years since she was in the classroom. It would be impossible for her to get a position with the school district without some refresher courses.”

“Which you want me to pay for,” Zach snapped. His attorney whispered something to him. Zach seemed to want to argue, but after a moment, he gave a resigned nod.

Rosie could tell he wasn’t pleased. Petty though it was, she was glad. She’d never thought herself capable of this kind of emotion, but she hurt so badly that she wanted him to feel just a small part of the agony she’d suffered in the last six weeks.

Otto straightened. “Mr. Cox will agree to pay for the refresher courses, but they must be completed within a predetermined time.”

“My main concern is supporting my children and making a new life for myself,” Rosie said.

“You have meetings and volunteer commitments every night of the week,” Zach taunted. “If the kids live with me, they won’t be eating packaged dinners.”

“Do you plan to do all this cooking and caring by yourself or will you be hiring your assistant to do it for you?” Rosie was half out of her chair, so outraged she felt like screaming.

“Please,” Sharon Castor said, again placing her hand on Rosie’s arm. “Yelling isn’t going to solve a thing.”

“I want my children with me,” Zach insisted.

“Allison and Edward belong with me,” Rosie countered.

Sharon Castor and Otto Benson exchanged looks.

“In instances such as this, when both parents have strong feelings about the custody of their children, it’s best to work out a joint custody plan.” Otto spoke first, laying the suggestion on the table for Rosie and Zach to examine.

“How would that work?” Zach asked, his temper cooling.

Rosie’s own sense of outrage was partially mollified, although she hated the idea of her children being exposed to Zach’s girlfriend. Joint custody wasn’t a new concept by any means, but it wasn’t something she wanted to consider. Frankly, she’d assumed that Zach would rather not have the kids getting in the way of his new relationship. She’d also assumed that his arguments to the contrary had been intended as leverage against her.

“I recommend that the children spend four days with Rosie,” Sharon Castor said, “then three with Zach.”

“And the following week,” Otto Benson added, “they’d be four days with Zach and three with Rosie.”

Sharon nodded.

“What about child support?” Zach asked.

Leave it to him to ask about money.

Otto explained that in situations like the one described, there would be no child support paid. However, all expenses for the children, such as braces, summer camp and clothing, would be shared.

At first Rosie fumed that Zach would dare to bring up the subject of support at all, but the more she thought about it, the better she felt. This was an opportunity to prove to Zach that she didn’t need him. He’d figure out soon enough that he needed her, though; he’d never appreciated everything she did for him. She’d be free to make a new life without having to depend on him for anything and that was the way she wanted it. Perhaps joint custody was worth considering.