74 Seaside Avenue (Cedar Cove #7) - Page 32/52

Will looked pleased, disregarding the comment about Grace. “I’ll call her first thing in the morning. I can get her number from you?”

Olivia nodded. “She can give you the contact information for the owners, too.”

“Great.”

They smiled at each other in mutual understanding, and Olivia’s heart felt lightened.

As if on cue, Jack reappeared. “The grill’s ready.”

She and Will walked into the house.

Jack took the three T-bone steaks out of the refrigerator. While they watched, he rubbed both sides with olive oil, a grilling trick he’d learned from an interview with a local chef. Collecting the silverware and plates, Will and Olivia followed him outside.

The phone rang and for a moment, Olivia was tempted not to answer. At the last second, she hurried into the house and grabbed it.

“Olivia, it’s your mother,” Charlotte announced.

As if Olivia wouldn’t recognize her own mother’s voice.

“Hello, Mom.”

“I’m not interrupting your dinner, am I?”

“No, no, not at all. What can I do for you?” From the way Charlotte spoke, Olivia could tell she was worried. “Is anything wrong?”

“No,” Charlotte murmured. “I don’t think so, but…well, I felt I should say something. I don’t want to cause any problems or borrow trouble, but I think forewarned is forearmed, don’t you?”

“Mom, what are you talking about? Has anything happened?”

“Well, not yet, but I wonder if you should speak to Grace and Cliff.”

Olivia didn’t need any more information to figure it out. “This is about Will, isn’t it?” Little did her mother know that her brother was on their patio at that very moment, talking to Jack.

“Will stopped by the other day and while he was here he saw a piece of mail on the kitchen counter. Although the envelope was addressed to Ben and me, Will didn’t hesitate to take the card out and read it. I suspect he noticed the name on the return address.” Her mother was getting upset now and her words were rushed.

“Who was the card from?” Olivia asked calmly.

“It wasn’t a card exactly. It was an invitation to Grace and Cliff’s wedding reception.”

All at once, everything her brother had said came under suspicion. Olivia was no longer sure she could believe his assertions that he’d put the past behind him.

“I told him how happy Grace and Cliff are,” Charlotte continued. “He just kept looking at the invitation and I’m afraid…well, if you must know, I’m afraid he was memorizing the details.”

“Mother, do you seriously believe Will would come to the reception uninvited?”

“Honestly, Olivia, I have no idea what to believe. I can’t imagine that any son of mine would be so forward or so rude, but then I don’t really know Will anymore.”

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t want Will to do anything that would embarrass Grace and Cliff. He’s made a pest of himself more than once.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” she said again. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“Thank you, dear. I feel much better now.”

While she had her mother on the phone, Olivia shared Justine’s news, which ended their conversation on a positive note. Before she hung up, Olivia confirmed that she’d handle the situation with Will.

She realized, as she replaced the receiver, that even a year ago, her mother would never have come to her over something like this. Charlotte was beginning to show her age. Olivia shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet…

Until recently, her mother had seemed invincible, full of life and energy. She’d led a group of senior citizens against city hall, single-handedly held together the knitting group and organized any number of charitable enterprises. For the last three years she’d been the president of the garden club. Suddenly Olivia saw her mother in a new light. Older, growing fragile, overwhelmed by concerns that wouldn’t have intimidated her a short time ago.

As Olivia was about to turn away, she noticed the flashing red light, indicating a message.

Jack walked into the house to get her. “The steaks are done.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” She reached for the pencil and pad she kept by the phone and pushed the recall button.

“Ms. Lockhart-Griffin, this is the Women’s DiagnosticCenter. We’re calling about your mammogram. Would you please contact our office at your earliest convenience? Our office hours are from eight to five, Monday through Friday.”

Olivia stared at Jack as dread clutched her stomach.

“It’s probably nothing,” he said in what seemed like a determined effort to reassure her.

“If it was nothing they would’ve sent a letter the way they normally do,” Olivia whispered. “Something must’ve shown up on my mammogram.”

Instantly Jack was at her side. “We’ll phone them tomorrow, Olivia. Together. No matter what it is, I’m with you.”

She nodded numbly. “We’ll talk later.” For now they had company and she didn’t want this to get to her mother. Charlotte had enough to worry about without adding a cancer scare to her concerns. No, they’d get through dinner with Will and deal with the phone call once he’d left.

Twenty-Six

Teri realized she couldn’t keep her pregnancy from Bobby much longer. Everyone at the salon knew—even her sister had guessed—but Teri still hadn’t told her husband. With good reason. If Bobby was protective of her now, and he was almost obsessive about it, this would only make matters worse. She didn’t want to give up her job; she enjoyed it and as a gregarious, friendly person, she needed the social outlet the salon provided. Even Bobby had noticed a change in her spirits since she’d returned to work.

Teri had some serious concerns regarding her husband. He wasn’t happy, and she knew why. He needed to play chess. He missed the game, the challenge and even the travel. When they’d first met, he’d been involved in chess matches around the world every few weeks.

When she questioned him, he assured her there were no significant matches scheduled now or in the near future. More importantly, he told her, he wasn’t ready. That meant Bobby didn’t feel prepared to face the Russian player he’d mentioned earlier.

Teri was so unfamiliar with the game and with the chess world that she didn’t know how to communicate with him about it. She might be married to a champion but she understood chess about as well as he grasped the basics of a good haircut. What she did know was that he should be playing—just like she should be working at her own job.

The telephone rang and Teri automatically answered it. Bobby rarely heard the phone, especially if he was studying chess moves, which he did every day. It was her sister.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” Christie said conversationally. “Everything’s all right, isn’t it?”

“Oh, sure.” Teri had no intention of sharing her concerns with Christie, although their relationship had definitely improved.

“I was thinking I should have you and Bobby to dinner soon, you know, reciprocate for the times you’ve had me over.”

The invitation surprised Teri and pleased her. Originally she’d invited Christie back in the hope of encouraging a romance between her and James. Lately, though, she’d come to enjoy Christie’s company. For the first time in her adult life, she felt like she had a real sister. As for the romance Teri had hoped to see between Bobby’s driver and Christie, nothing had come of it.

“We’d love to have dinner at your place,” Teri told her. “Let’s arrange something soon.”

“Have you told Bobby about the baby yet?” Christie asked, her voice falling to a whisper.

“No, no,” she said in the same chatty tone. “Of course I’ll bring something. I wouldn’t dream of letting you make the whole meal on your own.”

“Bobby’s listening?” her sister guessed.

Probably not, but Teri wasn’t taking any chances.

She was about to say goodbye when her sister said, “Uh, Teri…” There was a pause. “Listen, don’t read anything into this, but I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Sure.”

Christie seemed to hesitate again. “It’s about James.”

Teri straightened and, catching her husband’s eye, gave him the thumbs-up signal. When Bobby frowned and shook his head, she mouthed the words, “I’ll tell you later.”

“What do you want to know?” Teri asked, returning to her sister.

“Well…just some information. He’s so…odd. What can you tell me about him?”

Teri had never really asked. James was James, and she’d heard very little about his background. He seemed too private for nosy personal questions. “He’s Bobby’s friend as much as he is his driver.”

“What does he do all day? When he isn’t driving you or Bobby around, I mean.”

“Well, sometimes he waits for me at the shop—doing his bodyguard thing. Why do you ask?”

“I’m curious, that’s all. It’s not like I’m interested or anything, you understand?”

“Of course not,” Teri said, glad Christie couldn’t see her smile.

“In fact, the last time he took me home, I told him I didn’t want him to drive me again.”

“Oh.” Bobby hadn’t said a word to her about that, and Teri suspected James hadn’t mentioned it to him.

“He didn’t do or say anything to upset you, did he?” Teri asked.

“Nothing bad, if that’s what you’re talking about, but he…he brought me a long-stemmed red rose. Twice.”

Teri didn’t think that was so terrible. “How sweet,” she murmured.

“Why would he do something like that?” Christie demanded.

Teri had been right all along. James was attracted to her sister and, if she was reading Christie correctly, her sister was attracted to him. But Christie was afraid in exactly the same way Teri had been when Bobby had first started paying attention to her.

“Do you want me to ask him about the roses?” Teri asked.

“No! Please don’t.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t like him.”

Teri arched her eyebrows. “Really?”

“He’s so…refined. It makes me uncomfortable. He calls me miss. That’s such an outdated term! And he…he insists on escorting me to my door. Except the last time,” she rushed to add, “when I didn’t give him the chance.”

“I know his mother was English and his father an American.” That much she’d heard from Bobby once.

That didn’t seem to be the information Christie was looking for.

“Do you want me to say anything to Bobby?” Teri asked. “Tell him you’d prefer not to have James drive you?”

Her sister hesitated briefly, then murmured, “Maybe not. I guess it doesn’t really matter.”