16 Lighthouse Road
She found them a seat by the window, vacated by another couple barely a minute before. When she climbed over the bench of the red-painted picnic table, Olivia was grateful she’d changed out of her dress. She hadn’t been here in ages and had forgotten just how rustic it was. The window was decorated with what resembled red Christmas lights, but on closer examination, she saw they were shiny plastic peppers. She found that an amusing detail.
Jack brought napkins and plastic forks to the table and a large container of fresh salsa. When their order was ready, he collected both plates, then went back for their drinks. The food smelled delicious and she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of Jack’s peppers and the mixture of salsa and coriander.
They talked comfortably about a variety of topics: town politics, the paper, the play they’d both seen. She felt as though she’d known him for years. She wouldn’t have said he was her type, but she was beginning to believe she didn’t have one. Stan was an engineer, and like her, a highly organized person.
“Did I mention my son recently got married?” she said casually.
“No.” Jack grinned widely. “That’s great!”
“He’s about to make me a grandmother.”
He gave her an engaging grin. “You’re the most beautiful grandmother I’ve ever seen.”
Her ego thanked him. “Both the marriage and the pregnancy came as a surprise, but I don’t mind.” Well, she did…a little. “James sounded happy and although I haven’t met his wife, she seems very nice.” Olivia had her fears, but she wouldn’t second-guess her son and his decisions. This was his life, not hers.
“Stan and I were on the phone, discussing the prospect of becoming grandparents when you arrived. That’s why it took me so long to answer the door.”
“You must have a good relationship with your ex.”
“I wish we’d gotten along this well while we were married,” she joked. “Now his second wife’s getting the benefit of all my training.”
“Stan’s remarried?”
Olivia nodded.
Jack studied his dinner for a moment, then said, “Because of the treatments Eric underwent for the cancer, he’ll never father children.”
Which meant there was no possibility of Jack’s ever being a grandfather, Olivia realized. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to be.” It seemed he wanted to change the subject. “Do you speak to Stan often?” he asked.
“Only in matters having to do with the children,” she told him. “They’re both adults now, so there isn’t much reason for phone calls and so forth. I suppose we’ll be in touch a little more often once James’s baby is born. What about you and your ex?”
Jack tore his paper napkin in half, then looked horrified by what he’d done. “I haven’t spoken to Vicki in years. Unfortunately, our divorce was bitter.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again because she could see that talking about his ex-wife distressed him.
“What’s the matter with couples these days?” he asked. “Doesn’t anyone stay together anymore?”
“The Beldons have been married since shortly after high school,” Olivia said, leading into the subject of how he knew Bob.
“Ah yes, Bob and Peggy.”
“I went to high school with both of them,” Olivia explained.
“They were boyfriend and girlfriend back then?” Jack asked.
“From tenth grade on.” Those two had been together practically as long as she could remember.
“Bob was in Vietnam,” Jack said.
“Is that how you know him?” Olivia asked.
Jack shook his head. “I met him later. About ten years ago.”
Olivia waited, wondering if he’d tell her how they’d come to meet. He didn’t.
“Bob’s the one who suggested I apply for the job here in Cedar Cove. I was looking for a slower pace and decided to take him up on his offer to visit the bed-and-breakfast. I immediately fell in love with the area.”
“And so you uprooted your whole life.”
She met his gaze and they shared a smile.
“I’m glad I did,” he said, offering her a jalapeño.
She shook her head vigorously. “I’m glad you made the move, too.”
Very glad!
In the wee hours of Sunday morning, Cecilia poured herself a soothing glass of milk and sat at the small table in her tiny kitchen. She rested her bare legs on the second chair and leaned back, closing her eyes.
After a night on her feet, her toes throbbed. It’d been much worse when she was pregnant. She remembered how badly her ankles had swollen nearly every night. From the first, the pregnancy had been hard on her. She hoped subsequent pregnancies wouldn’t be as difficult, then realized there wouldn’t be any more. Never again did she plan to risk that kind of emotional pain.
She sipped the milk, hoping it would help her sleep. The George Washington had pulled back into the naval shipyard earlier in the day, just as predicted, leaving Cecilia to wonder if she’d hear from Ian.
Probably not. She was mentally reviewing the reasons they should stay away from each other when the phone rang.
Startled by the unexpectedness of it, Cecilia grabbed the receiver.
“Hello.”
Silence.
Great, a prank call. If she could afford caller ID, she would’ve phoned right back and given the pervert a piece of her mind.
“Hi.”
Ian.
She was too breathless to respond.
“I tried calling you earlier, but you weren’t home,” he said.
“I was at work.”
“I know. I thought of stopping by The Captain’s Galley, but I promised you I wouldn’t.”
She supposed he was letting her know he’d kept his word. “I just got home a little while ago.”
“That’s what I figured. I didn’t wake you or anything, did I?”
“No.”
“How are you?” he asked.
Cecilia could hear background traffic and supposed he was calling from a pay phone. “I’m okay.” Nothing had changed in the week since she’d seen him.
“You heard the George Washington had to turn back, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t mention that news had drifted into town on Wednesday—four days ago.
“I don’t know how long we’re going to be in port, but probably not long.” He paused, then added, “I’d like to see you. Would you be willing to meet?”
Cecilia squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t thinking clearly enough to answer him. Her heart leapt at the offer, but her head told her it would be a big mistake.
“I was at the college this week,” she told him, avoiding his question for the moment.
“Olympic College?”
“I signed up for two classes.”
“Cecilia, that’s great!” At least Ian was willing to encourage her, even if her father wasn’t. “What else is new?”
“I’ve been working in the bar on weekends, to help pay off the credit card bills.” And all the attorney-related expenses, too. “I got paid on Friday and since I’m current with everything, I thought I’d put the extra money in the bank.”
“Good idea.”
“That’s what I thought, until I went window shopping.” It’d been almost a year since she’d gotten anything new—a few maternity outfits she’d recently given to charity. Last week, the temptation to spend her extra cash had been overwhelming. The spring clothes looked so appealing. There were new books she wanted. Cosmetics. A gorgeous pair of shoes. She sighed. “Everything started calling my name.”
“So you decided if you were going to spend it, you’d make sure it was on something productive.”
Ian did know her. “Yes.”
“Good for you. When are your classes?”
“Early mornings, three days a week.” She was lucky to get in, since school had already started. The early classes meant she wasn’t going to have a lot of time for sleeping in. That was all right, though. The months after she’d buried Allison, all she’d done was sleep. She’d welcomed the oblivion it offered, the release from pain.
“Are you driving to school?”
Cecilia laughed. “Of course I am.”
“You don’t have the most reliable car.”
Her 1993 Ford Tempo had almost a hundred-and-fifty-thousand miles on it. “I’ll be fine,” she said, knowing she sounded defensive. “If I run into problems, I can always take the bus.” It wouldn’t be a short trip nor would it be convenient, but it was manageable.
Ian paused, as if silently debating with himself. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“You want to see me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Do I need a reason? You’re my wife.”
“We’re separated.”
“Don’t remind me,” he muttered.
Cecilia’s hand tightened around the receiver. “We didn’t speak for months. Remember? Why is it so important that we see each other now?”
“I have something I want to ask you,” he said.
“Ask me now.”
“No.” He was adamant about that. “I’d rather do it in person.”
“When?” She knew all these questions of hers were nothing more than a delaying tactic.
“Soon. Listen, Cecilia, I don’t know how long I’ll have before I’m deployed. I’ve got a proposition for you.” When she didn’t reply, he said, “Okay, okay, you’re right, we are separated, but you’re the one who wanted that.”
By the time he’d moved out of the apartment, Ian had been in full agreement. Now he’d decided to heap all the blame for the separation on her shoulders.
“Fine, you don’t want to see me,” he said shortly.
Cecilia sighed. “It isn’t that.” The truth of it was she did want to see him. More than anything.
“Then set the day and time.”
Cecilia closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her brow as she tried to think.
“Do you want my attorney to contact your attorney?” he asked.
“No!” she flared, angry he’d even suggest such a thing.
“Then tell me when I should come over.”
“You want to come here?” That put a whole new slant on the invitation.
“Fine, we can go somewhere else,” he said. “Anytime, anyplace. You just tell me. I’m not asking again, Cecilia.” His voice held an edge that hadn’t been there earlier.
“All right,” she whispered. “How about next week? Someplace in Bremerton? You choose.”
His relief was palpable, even over the phone. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
But it was, damn hard, and Ian knew it.
“When are you free to meet?” she asked, barely able to get the words out.
“I’ll let you know. All right? It depends on what’s happening with the George Washington, but it’ll be soon.”