Читать книгу Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection - Debbie Macomber - Страница 75

Twenty-Two

Zach replaced the telephone receiver and sighed heavily. Dashing off to the grade school because Eddie had been in a fight was not how he’d planned to spend his afternoon. However, the school had phoned him, and he didn’t have any choice.

He called Cecilia into his office. “Please cancel my three o’clock appointment, apologize and reschedule as soon as possible.”

Cecilia nodded. She seemed shocked when he reached for his briefcase and collected his coat. “You’re leaving?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

In other circumstances he would’ve phoned Rosie and asked her to deal with the situation. Eddie was an easygoing boy and not prone to fistfights. Whatever had caused the altercation, Zach was convinced it hadn’t been Eddie’s fault.

Since his blowup with Rosie in the office that day, Zach hadn’t been in contact with her. He felt bad about it, especially when Cecilia had told him how much she’d enjoyed meeting Rosie. Zach felt guilty for leaping to conclusions, but what else was he to think when he’d heard Rosie was busy chatting with Cecilia? Naturally enough, he’d assumed she was grilling his assistant for information about Janice.

Only later, after his outburst, did he realize he’d made an idiot of himself. It wasn’t the first time and it probably wouldn’t be the last. In any event, they were divorced, so it shouldn’t bother him as much as it did. Still…

Zach got into his car and started the engine. He placed his hands on the steering wheel as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He’d made a mistake, and that mistake had cost him his marriage. Lessons didn’t come easy to him; he was still too impulsive, too ready to assume the worst—and act on it. He owed Rosie an apology, but she’d avoided him, and frankly, he was grateful.

As Zach pulled into the school parking lot, he decided he should’ve called Rosie and asked her to deal with this situation, after all. She was closer to the grade school, and knew the principal. Actually, he was surprised that the authorities had notified him instead of her.

The school was filled with kid noises when he opened the main doors—classes were being released for afternoon recess. Just as Zach walked into the building, a couple of hundred students shot out the doors. He couldn’t move until they’d rushed past, and found himself standing there like a rock in a fast-flowing stream. As soon as the halls had emptied, he made his way to the principal’s office.

Mr. Durrell, the principal, came out of his office once his secretary had announced Zach’s arrival.

The two men shook hands.

“What’s the problem?” Zach asked.

Durrell brought him into the other room. A petulant Eddie sat on a sofa, his shoulders slumped forward. He stared down at the floor, glancing up briefly when Zach entered. Eddie had a bruise on the side of his face and his eyes were red from crying.

The principal sat at his desk and Zach took the seat next to his son. Eddie wasn’t a fighter, and Zach couldn’t imagine what had happened to bring him to blows with another student. Zach placed his arm protectively around Eddie’s shoulders. His son leaned into Zach’s strength for a moment, but then caught himself and stiffened.

“Eddie was involved in a fistfight earlier today,” Mr. Durrell explained. “The other boy claims Eddie threw the first punch.”

“Eddie?” Zach asked, waiting to hear his son’s version of events.

“Eddie refuses to answer my questions,” the principal said.

Zach turned to look at his boy. “Is it true, Eddie?” he asked gently. “Did you throw the first punch?”

Eddie sniffled and wiped his nose with one sleeve. He nodded.

“I’m sure there’s a good explanation,” Zach told the principal. “Eddie’s never been in any fights before.”

“I agree,” Principal Durrell said, “and that’s what concerns me. This is out of character for Edward. I’m willing to overlook the incident this time, but I want assurances that it won’t happen again.”

“Of course,” Zach said.

“The reason I phoned you, Mr. Cox, is that this is serious. I want you to know that if Edward takes part in a second fight, I won’t have any choice but to expel him.”

“I understand.”

“Why don’t I give you a few minutes to talk, and then the three of us can discuss the matter before I bring in Christopher Lamond.” Mr. Durrell stood and walked out of the room.

At the mention of Janice’s son, Zach’s head snapped up and his mouth went dry. As he sorted out his thoughts, Zach heard the sound of children’s laughter drifting in from outside. A bell rang, and the thunder of feet signaled that recess was over. Suddenly the halls were quiet.

“You want to tell me what happened?” Zach asked once he’d regained his composure.

Eddie’s shoulders had slumped so far forward, his forehead almost touched his knees. He sniffled again, then gradually straightened. “Chris said…his mom used to be your girlfriend, and that’s why you and Mom don’t live together anymore.”

Zach felt as if he’d been hit square in the chest. The impact was so jarring he nearly placed his hand over his heart. “You know that’s not true.”

“I told Chris, but he wouldn’t listen.” Eddie shook his head. “I shouldn’t have hit him, but he wouldn’t shut up and he kept shouting it and finally…I had to make him stop.”

“What’ll happen the next time, Eddie?”

“Next time,” Eddie repeated, “I’m going to look him in the eye and tell him it isn’t true and then I’ll walk away.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Zach ruffled his son’s hair. “You want me to beat him up for you?” he teased.

The hint of a smile touched Eddie’s mouth. “Dad!”

Zach nudged him with his elbow and Eddie nudged him back. After a couple more elbow exchanges, the door opened and Mr. Durrell returned. The three of them talked for a few minutes, and then the principal brought in the other boy. Chris refused to look at Zach. After the two boys had apologized, Mr. Durrell instructed Eddie and Christopher to go back to their respective classrooms.

Zach was about to suggest Eddie come home with him, but he realized it was better that his son face his class and his friends sooner rather than later.

Zach thanked Mr. Durrell and left. He pitied Chris Lamond, suspecting that Janice had paraded a number of men through her son’s life. He’d almost been one of them. Zach was halfway to the parking lot when he recognized Rosie. She was dressed in a straight skirt and matching jacket and looked…professional. Sharp and savvy. He wasn’t used to seeing her like this, and it made him feel a bit odd, as though she’d somehow become someone different. When she noticed him, she paused momentarily. Then, with her chin held high, she continued toward the school.

“I’ve already been to see Mr. Durrell,” Zach said when their paths crossed.

She nodded. “The school secretary called to tell me Eddie had been in a fight. I thought I’d better find out what happened. That just isn’t like him.”

“Mr. Durrell phoned me.”

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to come. I know how busy you are this time of year and I managed to leave a few minutes early.”

“You assumed I wouldn’t come.” Zach was mildly offended that she’d expected him to put his work schedule ahead of his son’s needs. He might be lacking in a lot of other areas, but Zach prided himself on being a good father.

“Oh, no, I knew you’d come. I just figured that it’d be later, and I didn’t think it was a good idea for Eddie to sit in Mr. Durrell’s office all afternoon.” She gave a quick shrug. “I was wrong—you obviously came over here right away.”

He wondered if she’d said this just to prove she had no trouble admitting when she was at fault. Fine, he could do it, too.

“Speaking of assumptions,” Zach said, looking past his ex-wife. He owed her this, even if it meant humiliating himself in the process. “It’s easy to leap to conclusions.” He glanced at Rosie to see if she got his point.

“How do you mean?”

It should be obvious, but apparently she wanted him to spell it out. “The way I assumed you were talking to Cecilia to pump her for information about Janice.”

Rosie stared at him. Then she frowned as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “Are you apologizing, Zachary Cox?”

Zach clenched his jaw and nodded. “Yes, I’m apologizing. I was out of line that day.”

Her face relaxed, and she offered him a soft, almost shy smile. Then she said, “Thank you, Zach.”

“For what?”

“For admitting you were wrong. I know how hard it is for you to do that.”

“Really?” He didn’t think he was that bad, just reluctant at times. Still, he’d gotten worse once his marriage began to fall apart. Although maybe that was why his marriage had fallen apart—or at least a contributing factor.

“Oh, that sounded self-righteous of me, didn’t it?” Rosie laughed and shook her head.

It was easy to forgive her when she was so willing to laugh at herself. He smiled in response, feeling a connection with her that he hadn’t felt in nearly two years.

“I owe you an apology, too,” she told him.

“Me?” They’d waged war over a comma in their divorce papers. Their weapons had been highly paid attorneys. During the bitter months preceding the divorce, there’d been no interchange that wasn’t witnessed and presided over by those same attorneys. Yet here was Rosie, standing with him in a school parking lot, and they were having one of the most important conversations of their relationship.

“I apologize for assuming you were involved with Janice,” Rosie continued. “I convinced myself that you were having an affair and I turned into a vindictive shrew. I’m not proud of the things I said and did, and I apologize.”

Zach had never expected Rosie to do anything like this. For months she’d been filled with resentment and vicious anger. Now he saw the tears of regret in her eyes, and his own heart softened.

“Rosie…”

“You denied the affair from the beginning,” she went on, barely able to speak through her tears. “I never had any real proof. I’d decided it was happening, felt it must be. She was obviously attractive and capable, and you spent eight hours a day with her. I was insanely jealous.”

Zach swallowed hard. He looked toward the school, sick at heart. Even now, months after his divorce, Janice haunted his life. Today his son had even fought with hers. She wasn’t to blame for the death of his marriage, but she wasn’t exactly a disinterested bystander. Janice’s attention had flattered him; he’d liked the way she’d catered to him, liked it far more than he should have. And she’d been well aware of that….

Clearly embarrassed by her loss of control, Rosie shoved the hair away from her face. “I apologize for the ugly things I said, for the way I behaved.”

The school bell rang, but they both ignored it.

“Rosie, listen, I was as much at fault as you. More so,” Zach confessed. “I should never have let things go on as long as they did. I was wrong, dead wrong.”

“But—”

“Let me finish,” he said, fearing he’d lose his courage if he didn’t say it now. “I wasn’t physically involved with Janice, but I did care about her. And I relied on her.”

Zach held his breath a moment. “I didn’t sleep with Janice, although it might have gone that way eventually—it was definitely what she wanted. But I did become emotionally dependent on her.”

He watched as the color drained from Rosie’s face. He wanted to explain what he meant, but by then the school busses had rolled into the parking lot, belching smoke and diesel fumes.

“Mom,” Eddie shouted, running toward them. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ll talk later,” Zach promised, but he could see from the shock in Rosie’s eyes that she wasn’t ready to discuss Janice. For that matter, he wasn’t eager to bring up the subject again—ever.

Grace was breathing hard as she followed the aerobics instructor. “One, two, one, two, three. Come on, ladies! Pick up the pace.” She groaned at the young woman’s words; she could barely keep up with the other members of her Wednesday night class as it was. She had conceded a long time ago that Olivia was far more agile than she was. The only reason she’d signed up for this class was so she could count on seeing her best friend at least once a week. By now, three years later, she’d figured all these exercises would’ve gotten easier. Not so.

Back in the locker room, Grace felt convinced she was losing whatever ground she’d gained. The problem was, this was her only exercise program. Like it or not, she needed the class.

She used to take a brisk walk along the waterfront at lunchtime, especially on sunny days. Now she ate her lunch in front of the computer at the library. At home it was the same thing. If Will wasn’t online when she logged on, he almost always had a message waiting for her. She’d come to live for his messages. She’d let so many things slide, and all because of Will. She feared their online relationship had become an obsession, but recognizing that did nothing to change the way she felt about him.

“I don’t know why I do this to myself,” Grace complained as she slumped onto the bench in the locker room.

Olivia wasn’t even out of breath, whereas Grace was panting. Her hair was plastered to her head and her face felt hot. This couldn’t be good for her, although according to the pencil-thin group leader, she was doing wonderful things for her heart. Wanna bet?

“You’re going to seed, Gracie-girl,” Olivia teased.

Grace rolled her eyes. “And you’re not?”

Olivia braced her tennis shoe against the bench and untied it. “Not me. Say, you never did tell me what you did on Valentine’s Day.” Olivia sank down on the bench next to Grace.

“Nothing much. I stayed home.” She didn’t have anything exciting to report. In fact, her night had gotten off to a slow start.

Olivia wiped her face with a towel. “Being alone didn’t bother you?”

“Not in the least.” Grace shrugged. “I enjoy my own company.” Yes, at first she’d been a bit down, since Will hadn’t been available, but eventually she was able to talk to him. He’d e-mailed her later than usual. He’d stayed at the office finishing up a report so he could leave for New Orleans the following week. Grace didn’t dare think about that. After all this time, she was actually going to be in Will’s arms. She’d dreamed of this in high school and only recently confessed to him how she’d felt back then.

The plane ticket he’d mailed her waited on her dresser, where she gazed at it every day, imagining the pleasures to come. For his part, Will had made her a number of promises. This first time would be as special as he could make it.

Soon they’d have a life together. Will hadn’t wanted to discuss the details but said they’d go over all of that once she arrived.

“Did you and Jack have a good time?” Grace asked in order to turn her thoughts from Will.

“We had a fabulous time,” Olivia said, with a long, drawn-out sigh.

“Did he get you flowers?”

“Jack?” Olivia arched her eyebrows dramatically. “Once a year is about all I should expect from him.”

“He did buy you that tennis bracelet for your birthday last year.”

“And gave it to me weeks late,” she recalled.

Olivia loved that bracelet; she wore it almost constantly.

“If you must know, Jack bought me two tickets to the Sonics basketball game.”

“He didn’t!” Grace loved the way Jack could make Olivia smile. It was just like him to buy her a gift he wanted.

“That’s all right, I outsmarted him,” Olivia assured her. “I bought him a facial at the health spa.”

Grace shook her head and marveled that her friend could get exactly what she wanted and do it in such a clever manner. “You two are getting along better than ever, aren’t you?”

Olivia nodded. “I can’t believe how silly I was to make demands on him. And that stupid ultimatum—I should’ve known better. I was such a fool to consider getting back with Stan.” She lowered her voice. “I’m in love with Jack.”

Grace was thrilled for her. This really was good news, but it wasn’t something she hadn’t figured out herself. Olivia’s feelings for Jack were obvious. While Grace had similar news concerning Will, she wasn’t free to share it. But she would the minute his divorce was final.

Grace had told Olivia everything nearly her entire life.

The urge to tell her dearest friend about her plans with Will was almost overwhelming, but she couldn’t. Soon, though. Very soon. According to Will, his wife had moved out and the divorce was all but over. The legalities couldn’t be settled quickly enough to suit Grace.

“Did I tell you Mom heard from Will? He’s worried about this protest rally she’s organizing. He’s going to be out of town next week, but he’s planning to call and give her his two cents’ worth.”

Grace already knew he’d be in New Orleans. What Olivia didn’t know was that Will would be with her. She was a bit surprised that Olivia avoided mentioning his divorce, but she was probably waiting until it was final before she said anything, which was understandable.

“I’d love to take a cruise one day,” Olivia said dreamily.

Grace frowned. “A cruise. What’s that got to do with anything?”

Olivia glanced at her. “My brother. He and Georgia booked a cruise this summer in the South Pacific.”

It felt as if her heart had stopped beating. “Will’s taking a cruise with his wife?” she asked, just to be certain she’d heard Olivia correctly.

“They’ve gone on several over the years. Will says it’s the only way to travel.”

This was a mistake; it had to be. Will and Georgia were in the middle of a divorce. Will couldn’t have misled Grace like this, couldn’t have lied to her…not after the things he’d promised. She didn’t believe it. She absolutely refused to accept it.

Somehow Grace managed to remain in one piece until she got back to the house. Buttercup was waiting for her as usual, but Grace ran past the dog and reached for the phone. Her hand trembled so badly she nearly dropped the receiver.

No, she couldn’t just call him out of the blue like this. After all these months of communicating online, she didn’t even know his home number. He was always the one who phoned her. With finances so tight, she couldn’t afford lengthy long-distance conversations, and Will knew that. She needed to think this through before she made accusations.

Perhaps it was all a big misunderstanding. Will didn’t want his family to find out about the impending divorce; that was it. Naturally, after all these years, it would be difficult for him to tell his mother and sister that his marriage was a failure.

Of course, Grace reasoned, that had to be it. Instantly she felt better, but no matter how hard she struggled to find reassurance, she couldn’t sleep. At midnight, she got up, turned on the computer and went online; no new messages from him. At one, with a pounding headache, she took an aspirin and crawled back into bed. At two, she still couldn’t sleep. Nor at three. Doubts invaded her mind. The fact that Will had insisted she not let Olivia know they were talking online, the secrecy of it, had always bothered her.

Olivia rarely mentioned her brother. He lived on the other side of the country, so his name didn’t often enter the conversation. He hadn’t lived in Cedar Cove since his early twenties. People changed.

She had to know.

At three-thirty, when the night was at its darkest and dawn only an unfulfilled promise, Grace picked up her bedside phone. She got Will’s home phone number from directory assistance. With the time difference, he would be awake, just getting ready for the office.

The phone was answered on the first ring. A female voice, sounding depressingly cheerful.

“Good morning.”

“Is this the Will Jefferson residence?”

A short hesitation. “Yes, this is Mrs. Jefferson. May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Grace Sherman from Cedar Cove, Washington.”

“Oh, hi. My husband’s from Cedar Cove. I hope everything’s all right?”

“Yes. Could I speak to Will?”

“Of course. I’ll get him for you right away.”

Grace thought she was going to be physically ill. She closed her eyes and concentrated on taking deep breaths.

A moment later Will picked up the phone. “Hello.”

“Hello, Will. It’s Grace.” She paused to let the words sink in. “You aren’t getting a divorce, are you? That was your wife who answered the phone!”

“This isn’t a good time to talk. I’ll explain later.” He sounded annoyed with her.

“An explanation won’t be necessary.”

“I—”

She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Please don’t try to contact me again.” How calm she sounded, Grace mused. And yet her heart was racing and her mouth was dry. “I’ll return the plane ticket and if you ever try to get in touch with me again, I’m going straight to Olivia and your mother. Do I make myself clear?”

Grace could hear his wife speaking in the background, worried that something was wrong with his mother. “I understand,” he said, and then quietly replaced the receiver.

At eight o’clock, Grace phoned the library and reported that she was sick. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination. Every flu symptom she’d ever experienced hit her, all at the same time. She fell into bed, pulled the sheets over her head, trying to shut out the world.

She’d been so gullible, so trusting and naive. Will was her best friend’s brother and not once did she suspect that he’d ever do anything this underhanded or deceitful—especially to her. The fact that he’d lied was bad enough, but that he’d preyed on her heart was nothing short of cruel. He’d lured her to New Orleans, paid for the flight and planned an erotic, exotic weekend for the two of them. She wondered what he’d intended to do once she learned he wasn’t divorcing his wife. Apparently he’d assumed he could keep her dangling like this indefinitely. And he probably could have, except for a chance remark of his sister’s.

So she was stupid, too… Because it was now abundantly clear that Will had no intention of leaving his wife, especially for her. With her high-school crush on him, Grace had been a willing victim.

Even though she was dizzy and sick to her stomach, Grace turned on her computer and blocked Will’s name and e-mail address. Never again would he be able to contact her online. Anything he sent her would be automatically returned.

Midmorning, Grace fell into a fitful sleep. She woke in the afternoon, and found Buttercup lying on the bedroom floor. “What is it, girl?” Grace asked. “Do you have a broken heart, too?”

Buttercup didn’t respond, didn’t even wag her tail. Grace walked over to her, crouched down beside her, and immediately realized something was terribly wrong. Stroking the dog’s head, she grabbed the phone and called the vet.

“I don’t know what’s the matter with her,” she told the receptionist. “But please get me in as soon as possible.”

Luckily there was an appointment available that afternoon. Grace dressed in sloppy jeans, ran a brush through her hair and loaded Buttercup in the car, then drove to the animal clinic as fast as she dared.

Weeks earlier, Cliff had mentioned that there might be a problem with Buttercup’s health. Why hadn’t she paid more attention? Why had she ignored what was right before her eyes? The answer was too painful to examine. Grace knew why. She’d neglected her dog because of Will.

While Grace sat in the waiting area, she felt sick with guilt. She’d let her friend down. The door to the clinic opened and, to her dismay, in walked Cliff Harding. Tall, dark, ruggedly good-looking, he seemed to energize the compact waiting area. A woman with a large cat on a leash sat up straighter and smiled enticingly. An older man with a terrier grinned and exchanged a few remarks.

Grace shrank as far as she could into the corner and prayed he hadn’t seen her. Looking as bad as she did, maybe he wouldn’t recognize her.

“Hello, Mr. Harding.” The receptionist perked up. Cliff was obviously a favorite. “The medication you ordered is in.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, sauntering to the counter. He good-naturedly teased the girl, who blushed with pleasure. One of the assistants from the back must have heard Cliff’s voice, because she made an excuse to slip out front. She was about Grace’s age and flirted openly with him.

Grace lowered her head and pretended to read a magazine. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Cliff paid for the worming medication he needed for his horses and turned to leave.

While he might not have recognized her, he didn’t have any problem remembering Buttercup.

He shoved his wallet in his back pocket and for a moment she thought he might do them both a favor and walk away. No, that would’ve been entirely too easy. Instead he walked across the room and stood directly in front of her.

“Hello, Grace.”

She put down the magazine as if noticing him for the first time. “Oh—hello, Cliff.”

“How’s Buttercup?” he asked. Bending down on one knee, he gently placed his hand beneath the golden retriever’s jaw and looked into her eyes. “What does Doc Newman say?”

“I haven’t been in to see her yet.”

A frown darkened his face. “This is your first visit?”

She nodded. He didn’t need to say anything more; she read the censure in his eyes, felt the reprimand. She wanted to defend herself—but she couldn’t.

After a moment, he stood and stared down at her. “I hope you aren’t too late.” He touched the brim of his hat in farewell and strode out the door.