74 Seaside Avenue

Ben collected the cups and saucers while she boiled water and measured out tea leaves. Soon they were sitting at the kitchen table across from each other but before she could pour the tea, he reached for her hand.



“Is it Will?” he asked.



“Where is he? Do you know?”



Ben shrugged. “He left a couple of hours ago. Said he was meeting with a rental agent to look at apartments.”



“Did he say where he was hoping to move?”



“He told me he’d like to find an apartment near us, in the downtown area.”



“I was afraid of that,” she said starkly.



“Why?” Ben asked, sounding genuinely taken aback. “It seemed thoughtful of him to want to be close by. In case either of us needs him, he said.”



“Hogwash,” Charlotte sputtered.



Ben’s eyes widened at her outburst.



“I know my son,” she said, “and his wanting to be downtown has nothing to do with any concern for our well-being.” Her hand shook as she filled their teacups. “We aren’t the only ones nearby,” she muttered, then pressed her lips together in consternation.



Ben frowned, as if he didn’t understand.



“It’s Grace,” she said, setting the teapot back on the table.



“Do you seriously think he’s still hung up on Grace?” Ben asked. He seemed to find it far-fetched that Will would go to such extremes. “He knows she’s married to Cliff, doesn’t he?”



“Of course he does. But a little thing like a wedding ring hasn’t stopped him in the past,” she said. A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. “I know my son,” she said again. “He’s highly competitive. That’s one of the reasons he was such a success in the corporate world.”



“In other words, he doesn’t like to lose.”



“He detests it.” Charlotte could list plenty of examples from her son’s youth but resisted. “He’s going to move downtown and in a week or two he’s going to get a library card.”



“Because of Grace…”



“For no other reason,” she elaborated. “He hasn’t felt a need for one in the last thirty-five years. Now, however, it’s going to be a necessary part of his relocation. Mark my words,” she added, tapping her fingers rhythmically on the table.



“It’s too late as far as Grace is concerned,” Ben said. “She’s happily married.”



“I know.” And Charlotte felt it was her duty to see that nothing ruined Grace’s happiness. Grace was like a second daughter to her. Charlotte wasn’t planning to sit idly by and allow her own son to destroy Grace’s life. He wouldn’t succeed in seducing her again, but he was perfectly capable of interfering in her marriage, spreading innuendo and suspicion.



“Then why are you so worried?”



Before she could answer, the front door opened. In walked Will, looking carefree and decidedly pleased with himself. His eyes brightened and he smiled as he entered the kitchen. “I’m back,” he announced. “And I’d love a cup of tea.”



“How’d it go?” Charlotte asked. She stood automatically to get him a cup and was struck by what a handsome man he was, even more handsome at sixty than he’d been as a young man. He was tall and well-built, physically fit. He had a sense of style, too; from the time he was a teenager he’d taken care with his clothes. She remembered that he’d always been far more fashion-conscious than his peers. Recently his hair had begun to gray at the temples, giving him a distinguished look. Considering his appearance and his well-developed charm, it was little wonder that women had fallen at his feet. Even sensible women, like Grace.



“I found a small two-bedroom unit right off Harbor Street



,” Will told them triumphantly.



“Off…Harbor Street



?”



“On the water,” he said as she handed him his tea.



Charlotte knew of only one apartment complex on the waterfront. “I haven’t seen a rental sign there,” she said, none too pleased. Naturally Will had chosen an apartment that was practically next door to the library.



“I’m subletting the unit,” he explained. “I’d prefer a more upscale place, but this will do for now.”



Charlotte caught Ben’s eye. He nodded, got up and politely excused himself.



She waited until he’d left the room, then confronted her son. “This doesn’t happen to be Linnette McAfee’s apartment, does it?”



“It sure does.” He sounded surprised. “How did you know?”



“I spoke with her mother,” Charlotte told him. “Corrie hates the idea of her daughter moving away from Cedar Cove.” But Linnette was determined to leave, whether the apartment was rented or not.



“Well, her loss is my gain,” Will said, as though it was a joke. “I should be able to move in sometime next week.”



“Then I suppose congratulations are in order,” she managed to mumble.



“I’ll be out of your hair but I’ll still be around,” Will told his mother.



Charlotte didn’t comment. Instead she stood and carried her untouched tea to the sink. Keeping her back to her son, she attempted to control her reactions. Turning to face him, she tried to gauge his intentions, troubled by the fact that she thought the worst of her only son.



“You’re sure you’re doing the right thing?” she asked tentatively.



Will wore a perplexed expression. “Of course I’m sure. Although you’re both healthy, I feel it’s my duty to be close by in case you need me.”



“Olivia and Jack are less than two miles away.”



For the first time Will seemed to notice that Ben had left the room. If he was looking to his stepfather for support, Ben wasn’t there to give it to him.



“You mean you’d rather I wasn’t living in Cedar Cove?” Will asked bluntly.



“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” Charlotte told him. Will was, after all, her son and she was happy to have him there—as long as his intentions were honorable.



“Then what’s the problem?” he asked, gesturing with his hands, palms up.



“The problem is Grace Harding.”



“Grace?” Will repeated her name with a frown. “What’s Grace got to do with any of this?” Had she not known him so well, Charlotte might have questioned her own perceptions.



“I know what you did,” she said, refusing to hide her awareness of his behavior. She’d never spoken of it before, but Will needed to realize he hadn’t deceived everyone. “That’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”



Will’s frown deepened. “I suppose Olivia couldn’t wait to come tattling,” he muttered, anger shadowing his face.



“Hardly. I surmised what went on between the two of you all by myself.”



Will exhaled slowly. “Let me assure you, Mother, that your concerns are groundless. I’m delighted for Grace and…her husband. I wish them the very best. Grace made her choice and while I wish she’d chosen to marry me—”



“Marry you!” Charlotte exploded. “You were married to Georgia at the time.”



“We were planning to divorce,” he said with perfect calm.



Charlotte knew he was lying. “Oh, Will,” she whispered, her heart aching. “Do you honestly believe you can lie to me so easily? I’m your mother. I know you.”



Will had never liked being confronted, least of all by her. He bit his lip, the same way he had as a boy. “Let me assure you, Mother, I am not interested in getting involved with Grace. I’m sincere about that. Like I said, I wish her and Cliff happiness. Right or wrong, I lost her and I accept that. I’ll step aside.”



“Do you mean it?” Charlotte asked, meeting his eyes.



Will grinned, and he certainly didn’t look like a man who’d deceive his own mother.



“Scout’s honor.” He held his arms open and when she moved into his embrace, he hugged her gently.



He disappeared again soon afterward without mentioning where he was going. Ben was in the living room reading in his recliner, with Harry, her guard cat, on his lap.



“Feel better?” he asked when she joined him.



“I…think so. I couldn’t go another day without speaking my mind. I had to tell Will how unhappy I am about his behavior.”



Ben set aside his book, the memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant, draping it over the arm of his chair. “Don’t forget, I know what it’s like to have children who disappoint you. You aren’t alone in that, my dear.”



He spoke from experience. Ben’s son David had constant money problems and often came to his father seeking financial assistance. Wisely Ben had made it a policy not to give his son any loans until he’d paid off the money he’d already borrowed.



“In some ways I wish the problem with Will was money,” she said. “He asked me to trust his intentions toward Grace. Really, I didn’t have any choice but to tell him I would.”



“I agree,” Ben said, stroking Harry’s fur from ears to tail. The cat purred with pleasure. “We’ll have to wait and see.”



“Yes, but what do I do if he goes against his word?” Much as she wanted to believe that Will would do the honorable thing, deep down she suspected he wouldn’t.



“Charlotte, my love,” Ben said. “Don’t borrow trouble. Each day brings enough as it is. Take him at his word until you have reason to doubt him. Then and only then, confront him.”



She nodded. “In other words, I shouldn’t cross that bridge until I come to it—and other assorted clichés.”



Ben stretched out his hand. “Exactly,” he said, smiling widely.



Charlotte walked over to her husband’s chair and slipped her arm around his shoulders. “I’m so glad I married you. You’re a man of wisdom, Mr. Rhodes.”



Ben kissed her fingers. “I was smart enough to marry the most beautiful woman in the universe. Now, didn’t you say something this morning about an apple pie?”



“I did,” she said with a laugh.



“Apple’s my favorite pie for August, you know.”



“I thought that was October,” she teased.



“Hmm. You might be right. But we don’t want to be rigid about these things, do we?”



Unable to stop herself, Charlotte laughed again. She did love this man. She’d found love twenty years after losing the husband she’d adored. All she could hope was that her son would find a woman strong enough to love him despite his flaws. Strong enough to teach him despite his failings.



If such a woman existed.



Fourteen



He was acting like a high-school kid, Troy Davis chided himself. He’d actually started whistling as he got ready for his evening out with Faith. Whistling! Anyone hearing him, watching him, would hardly recognize him as the sober, level-headed sheriff of Cedar Cove—but he didn’t care what anyone thought. This was the first Saturday night in years—yes, years—that was about indulgence, not obligation. He felt a little guilty thinking that, since he’d loved Sandy so much, but surely he was entitled to an evening of simple enjoyment. Surely he was entitled to this sense of joyful anticipation.