6 Rainier Drive

Charlotte and several ladies from the Senior Center had been out, too. Charlotte had taught Maryellen how to knit and she’d caught on quickly. Under Charlotte’s tutelage, she’d started a baby blanket. However, none of these distractions was enough to keep Maryellen’s mind off the financial difficulties caused by her unemployment. Jon couldn’t work and take care of both Katie and her. Now, at least, he was able to spend the days taking photographs and had sold a few to the Chronicle and other area papers, as well as providing prints to the galleries that carried his work. He’d even applied for a few jobs, which had come to nothing.



Joseph and Ellen’s presence had made a difference that was as profound as that between night and day. Jon couldn’t deny that their generosity had changed everything; still, he avoided all contact with his parents. He left in the morning and called every night before he got home. His call was the signal that his parents should leave.



Maryellen was distressed that he could be so coldhearted toward his family. Distressed and scared, too. If he could so completely turn off his love for them, then he might be capable of doing the same to her and to their daughter.



She knew very well that the only reason Jon had allowed his family into his life was for her sake and Katie’s.



He refused to acknowledge their help or show them any appreciation. Joseph and Ellen had remained respectful of his wishes. The minute he notified Maryellen that he was on his way home, they packed up and left. The fact that dinner was waiting for him on his return was never mentioned or credited to his parents. As much as possible, he ignored their very existence. Maryellen felt dreadful for his father and stepmother.



When she heard Jon tiptoe down the stairs in the early dawn, Maryellen smiled. Their time alone on Easter Sunday had been special and she refused to ruin today with any unpleasantness.



“You awake?” he whispered.



She nodded and held out her arms to him. Jon joined her on the sofa, lying beside her. He placed his hands on her growing abdomen. They giggled and cuddled close.



“After this baby’s born, I’m never sleeping without you again,” he said, spreading warm kisses on her throat until he reached her lips for a series of deep, probing kisses. Groaning, he tore his mouth from hers and buried it in the hollow of her neck. After a moment, he whispered, “I miss you sleeping with me.”



“I miss you, too.” His body was so familiar to her and so beloved. She reveled in the feel of him pressed against her. Had their circumstances been different, they would’ve made love. It wouldn’t be long before all of this was over, Maryellen reminded herself. She had to repeat that thought frequently throughout the day—and night.



“Katie’s still asleep,” Jon told her.



“She had a busy day yesterday. Oh, Jon, I can’t tell you how good Ellen is with her.”



Her husband went rigid, just as he always did whenever she mentioned his parents.



Maryellen rubbed his back. “Did you see the giant Easter basket they bought her? It’s got a plush bunny and—”



“I don’t want them spoiling her rotten.”



“Sweetheart, that’s what grandparents do.” She paused. “They love her so much,” she murmured.



Without a word, Jon slipped off the sofa and went into the adjacent kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She watched him grind beans, then add water.



“I knew this would happen,” he said to her from the doorway a moment later, his voice ringing with resentment.



“What?” she asked, sitting upright now. “You’re afraid I’ll refer to your parents in casual conversation? That’s what you fear? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”



“The minute they got here, you were championing their cause. It’s not going to work, Maryellen. I told you that before and I’m telling you again now. Nothing’s changed between them and me. Not one damn thing.”



She flinched at the harshness of his words. “But Jon—”



“I will not talk about it anymore. I let them come because you wanted it, and for no other reason.”



“They’ve been a tremendous help. How can you deny what your parents have done for us? Jon, they left their home. They’re staying at one of those hotels off the highway, and all because they want to be near us during this time. The least we can do is show some appreciation.”



“They didn’t help me,” he said with unrestrained anger. “Instead, they lied. They should count their blessings that I didn’t get them charged with perjury. Then they would’ve gone to prison like I did.”



Maryellen forced herself to remain calm. “Yes, they did lie, and because of it you went through hell. They paid the price for that, Jon, and they paid dearly.”



“No, Maryellen,” her husband said, “I’m the one who paid. I was the one behind bars. Do you know how I got through those years? Do you really want to know? By hating them. I swore I’d never have anything to do with either of them again.”



It pained her to hear the bitterness in his voice. Jon was a passionate man, who felt everything deeply. Anyone who studied his photography could see that, could sense his emotion.



A picture as simple as an empty rowboat tied up at a dock was sharply evocative. One reviewer had said that the abandoned rowboat was an object that had its own integrity and yet also symbolized lost dreams. Maryellen loved that review, and she’d clipped it and kept it in a special file. She agreed with every word. Years ago, she’d fallen in love with his art, long before she even knew the man.



So, it was no surprise that Jon’s emotions, both positive and negative, had such potency. His hatred for his parents was uncompromising. He loved with this same intensity. Maryellen could never doubt the depth of his feelings for her and their children. He’d sacrificed for her; he’d even been willing to give up this land, and the home he’d built with his own hands, for her and for Katie and the new baby.



The silence between them seemed to throb like a fresh wound. The only sound was that of the coffeemaker gurgling. Jon returned to the kitchen to pour himself a mug and heat water for herbal tea in the microwave.



“Thank you,” she said when he brought her the tea.



He sat down across from her. “I don’t want to argue, Maryellen.”



“Me neither.” She offered him a sad smile.



“I love you,” he said. “I won’t allow my parents to come between us. I can’t. They took everything else away from me, and I won’t let them steal you and Katie, too.”



She sipped her tea and tried to see the situation from his point of view. “I was just thinking how unusual this is. It’s the reverse of what normally happens, where the wife doesn’t get along with her in-laws.”



Nodding, Jon cupped the mug. “I like my in-laws just fine,” he said. “It’s my own family I don’t care for.” He checked his watch and stood, ending their conversation. “I need to get ready for an interview.”



The comment caught her off guard. Jon hadn’t said anything about applying for another job. He took photographs that sold in galleries, and she hoped to begin managing his career later this year, finding ways to give him more exposure and license his work. Maryellen had been reading about it on the Internet, using a laptop computer Cliff had lent her.



“An interview?” she echoed. “You didn’t say anything about that.”



“It’s nothing great,” he said as he headed up the stairs.



“But…you always tell me when you’re going to a job interview.” A couple of opportunities had come his way recently, neither of which had panned out. Jon had talked to her at length before and after each interview. One had been for a construction job with Warren Saget’s company. However, Jon had discovered that Warren used shortcuts and inferior materials. He was currently building an apartment complex and rumor had it that there were already major problems on the site. Although he possessed excellent carpentry skills and would gladly have taken on a construction project, Jon and Maryellen had agreed that, for ethical reasons, he shouldn’t work for Warren Saget. Seth Gunderson wanted him back at the new—as yet unbuilt—Lighthouse, but Jon couldn’t wait that long. He’d applied for some restaurant jobs, too.



“I’m sure I mentioned this,” Jon threw over his shoulder as he dashed up the stairs to their bedroom.



No, he hadn’t; Maryellen would’ve remembered it. She had the unpleasant sensation that he was hiding something from her. Only, she couldn’t imagine what it would be, or why. When he came down the stairs, dressed and freshly shaved, Maryellen was ready. She’d slowly made her way to the kitchen, where she sat at the table.



“Tell me about this interview,” she said as he popped a slice of bread in the toaster. He placed a bowl with instant oatmeal in the microwave and sliced a banana for her breakfast.



He glanced up. “It’s nothing special,” he countered.



“Is it a cooking job?”



“No,” he said curtly.



“Apparently it’s something you don’t want to tell me about. Something you’d rather not mention.” She shook her head. “You’ve never kept secrets from me before,” she said softly, unable to disguise the hurt. “Please don’t start now.”



He released a pent-up sigh. “All right, if you must know. The interview’s with a portrait studio in Tacoma.”



“But Jon, that’s great!” It was probably a waste of his talent, but she wasn’t going to say that.



“I’ll be photographing schoolchildren and…”



Maryellen swallowed hard and struggled to hide her dismay. This was so far beneath Jon’s abilities. It would stifle his creativity, kill his passion for photography. No wonder he’d been reluctant to tell her about this interview.



An involuntary sob escaped and she covered her face with both hands.



“Maryellen, don’t.” He came to kneel in front of her. “Honey, it’s the only thing available. It’ll pay the bills, even if it doesn’t provide any benefits.” He wrapped his arms around her.



“You’ll hate it.” He was willing to waste his considerable talent at this menial job, and all because of her.



Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I’ve had worse jobs. This won’t be for long, I promise you. I won’t be home much, but—”



“You want it that way. You want out of the house because…because you can’t stand the thought of your parents being here, and that’s my fault, too. Sometimes I think this baby’s going to destroy us.”



“Don’t,” he warned gently. “Maryellen, you can’t think like that. This baby is a gift.”



“I can’t let you do this. Jon, please. I just can’t bear it.”



“Sweetheart, don’t.” He took her face between his hands and kissed her again and again. “I love you. I’m doing this for us. As soon as the baby’s born, everything will be different. I promise.”