No doubt Jack was pleased with the menu. Olivia kept a careful eye on her husband’s diet. After his heart attack, Jack had promised to abstain from fast food and late hours. He left the newspaper office as close to five as he could these days and often got home before she did, which was a real switch from the way things used to be.
“Hi, Jack,” she greeted him, setting her purse on a small table in the hallway alcove, just as she did every night.
“Out here,” Jack called. He had a Reba CD playing and the volume was loud enough to rattle the windows. She was surprised he’d heard her at all.
Moving into the kitchen, Olivia found her husband preparing a salad. He’d arranged pale green Boston lettuce and baby spinach leaves in a large glass bowl, which sat on the kitchen counter, along with two ripe tomatoes and a cucumber fresh from her garden.
“Do your talents never cease?” she teased, sliding her arms around his middle. She hadn’t realized how deeply she loved this man—who’d come into her life nearly twenty years after her divorce—until he’d almost died. Now she appreciated every day she had with him. Every minute.
“I picked up a bottle of a new spray-on salad dressing,” he was saying. “There was a coupon in the Chronicle and I used it. I think we’ll like this one.”
He handed her the bottle of Italian dressing and she glanced at the label with an appropriately enthusiastic comment. Who would’ve dreamed that Jack Griffin, editor of the Cedar Cove Chronicle and renowned junk-food fanatic, would care about low-fat salad dressing? Certainly not Olivia.
“You’re spoiling me,” she said with a laugh.
“Well, actually, I was thinking I’d get you happy and then lure you into my den of iniquity.”
“Den of iniquity? Den of books and stacks of paper is more like it.” Olivia loved the banter between them. “Anyway, after all this time you should know you don’t need gifts of salad dressing to get me into your arms.”
Jack turned and enfolded her in his embrace, kissing the tip of her nose. “The things you say to me, woman, it’s a wonder I don’t seduce you right here on the kitchen floor.”
“And let my brother find us?” she asked.
Jack scowled. “Oh, yeah. I forgot for a minute—Will’s coming to dinner.”
“Don’t forget, I need to talk to him….”
“And you want me to conveniently disappear.”
“If you don’t mind?” She sighed unhappily. “It’s just that this might get awkward.”
“I’m happy to retreat to my den,” he said, waggling his eyebrows in Groucho Marx fashion.
After a quick kiss, Olivia went into the bedroom to change while Jack finished making the salad. When she returned he’d poured two glasses of iced tea.
As they waited for Will, they sat on the front porch, which overlooked the Cove. The waters were a clear blue and, for September, surprisingly calm. Sitting side by side on the glider, they sipped their tea and enjoyed the quiet of early evening.
“How was your day?” Olivia asked, grateful for these few minutes alone. Will’s arrival would transform this peaceful mood into one of tension.
“I had lunch with Seth,” Jack said. “Ran into him at the deli. I had vegetable soup and a multigrain bagel with low-fat cream cheese,” he added righteously.
“Well, I had lunch with Justine.” She smiled. Her daughter had been full of news about the sale of the waterfront land and their purchase of a commercial plot off Harbor Street
. Everything had come together so smoothly, Justine was convinced this was meant to be. She’d talked about collecting Charlotte’s special recipes. Justine planned to use them in the tearoom, which had pleased Charlotte no end. In fact, during their last conversation, Olivia had learned that her mother was finally writing down all her recipes. Although friends and family had been asking for ages, Justine had given her the inspiration she needed.
“Seth told me the permits have been issued and construction on the tearoom should start in the next few weeks.”
“Justine said the same thing.”
They both paused to savor their tea. Olivia loved the serenity of early autumn. Summer had lingered in the Pacific Northwest, but soon the rains would come. The days would grow short and the bleakness of winter would begin to descend. At the end of the month, Jack would store the barbecue in the garage for the winter and put away the patio furniture. Hard to believe on a lovely night like this. Knowing how few such evenings remained made it even more special.
“Seth said he’d decided to keep his job with the boat broker,” Jack told her.
Olivia already knew this, and felt it was a wise decision. She said as much.
“Oh?” Jack questioned. “Why’s that?”
“He’s doing so well, and…” She hesitated. “I don’t suppose it would do any harm to tell you.”
“What?”
“Justine’s pregnant.”
“That’s great!” He paused, frowning and obviously puzzled. “Seth didn’t say anything about that.”
“He doesn’t know yet. Justine is telling him tonight.” Justine’s pregnancy was wonderful news to Olivia. Not so long ago, she’d begun to lose hope of ever having grandchildren and now, like Grace, she’d have four. Her youngest son, James, who was in the navy and lived in San Diego, had two children and soon Justine would, as well.
After a few minutes, Jack kissed the side of her face. “You’re very quiet all of a sudden. Any particular reason?”
Olivia finished her tea. “I was thinking about Jordan,” she said. The son who’d died the summer he was thirteen. More than twenty years had passed since his death, and hardly a day went by that she didn’t think about him. Her thoughts were especially poignant at times like this, when she learned she was about to become a grandmother again. What would’ve happened if Jordan had stayed home from the lake that day? It was a question that still haunted her, maybe even more so now that her children were adults. What kind of person would Jordan have been? Would he have a family now? How different would her own life be? Her ex-husband, Stan’s? Justine’s? Even James’s? They’d all been profoundly affected by Jordan’s death.
“I can hardly imagine it,” he murmured.
“A mother never forgets,” she said simply. The pain wasn’t as intense as it’d been during the first few years after Jordan’s death. Still, at special moments like today’s lunch with Justine, it was as if the loss had just occurred.
A car rounded the bend and she recognized it as her brother’s. Jack saw the car, too. Standing, Jack and Olivia walked down the steps to greet their guest.
Will joined them. “Thanks for the dinner invite,” he said, then kissed Olivia on the cheek and shook hands with Jack.
“I should be the one thanking you,” Jack said. “I’m getting steak for the first time in a month of Sundays.”
Olivia cast a disparaging look at her husband. “Ignore him.”
While Jack got Will a glass of iced tea, Olivia led her brother onto the porch, where they sat on two of the wicker chairs that lined the wide veranda. She’d initially planned to have their conversation after dinner, but decided sooner was better. Jack brought out the tea, eyed Olivia and then excused himself, telling them he wanted to start the barbecue.
“It’s nice here. Really peaceful,” Will commented, relaxing in his chair. He looked out over the Cove, where a pair of herons waded in the water, seeking dinner.
“We love it.”
Will nodded, then sipped his tea.
Olivia plunged into the murky waters of her brother’s obsessive behavior. “Grace mentioned that you stopped by the library the other day.”
Will didn’t respond right away. “I thought she might’ve said something,” he finally muttered.
Olivia wanted to get to the point. Surely Will knew why she felt the need to talk to him. “You’re aware that she’s married, aren’t you?” she asked bluntly.
“Of course.” Will sighed and shook his head. “It isn’t what you think, Liv. I made a fool of myself over her the last time I was in town. I regret that. The whole situation was unfortunate.”
That was putting it mildly, although Olivia chose not to say so. Her brother had tried to provoke a fistfight with Cliff Harding, which was almost a joke. Cliff outweighed Will by at least fifty pounds and was in much better physical condition. The incident had mortified Grace, and Olivia had been outraged by her brother’s childish behavior.
“Exactly why are you in Cedar Cove?” she demanded. “Because if it has anything to do with Grace, I’m telling you right now, neither Mom nor I will stand for it.”
Her brother seemed about to argue, then appeared to change his mind. “I know stopping by the library wasn’t a good idea.”
“No, it wasn’t. You’re my brother and I love you, but Grace has been my best friend my entire life and I will not allow you to interfere in her marriage.”
“I know.” Will leaned forward and exhaled slowly. “I see now that inviting her to lunch wasn’t the best way to go about any of this. All I wanted to say was that I’m sorry for…well, for everything. I wish her happiness.”
“You have to admit, moving to Cedar Cove looks pretty suspicious.”
He shrugged uncomfortably. “I thought about it quite a bit, Olivia, but I really didn’t have anywhere else to go. I needed a change. God knows Georgia deserved a better husband, and it just seemed easier to start over someplace familiar. Mom’s here and you’re here. The two of you, plus your kids, are the only family I’ve got.”
“You don’t intend to make any trouble for Grace?”
“No,” he returned with such vehemence that Olivia felt she had to believe him.
“What I’d like,” he continued, “is to buy a business or start my own, I haven’t decided which. Cedar Cove is home. I have the skills—and the cash—to make a contribution to this community.”
“I’m glad.” Olivia wanted to trust that what he said was true.
“Have you heard of anything that might be appropriate?” he asked.
Olivia thought for a moment and then inspiration struck. “Oh, my goodness! This is perfect.”
“What?” Will’s eyes widened with excitement.
“The HarborStreetArtGallery. I just found out it’s going to close. You’ve always had an interest in the arts.” He nodded eagerly at that, and she remembered how, years ago, he used to take very good photographs. He’d always bought paintings, too, supporting up-and-coming artists. “The gallery was doing well until Maryellen Bowman had to quit,” Olivia went on to explain. “The woman who replaced her just didn’t have the eye or the business savvy Maryellen does.”
“Would I be able to hire Maryellen back?”
“No, but you wouldn’t need to. You could manage it yourself. The community needs this art gallery and I really think you’re the right person.” The more she thought about it, the more Olivia warmed to the idea. “Talk to Maryellen. I’m sure she’d be willing to help you as much as she can. Keep in mind that she’s a new mother, so her time is limited. She’s also Grace’s daughter, but that shouldn’t matter—should it?”