“Come to my place. I’ve got plenty of leftovers. Mom’s friends made her enough meals to last a month. There’s a huge dish of broccoli lasagna.”
“You’re on.” Grace so seldom cooked meals anymore that anything homemade sounded heavenly.
Two hours later, lulled by a tasty meal, a glass of red wine and the sweet alto voice of Anne Murray, they sat in Olivia’s living room. Charlotte was sound asleep in the back bedroom.
Relaxed, Grace accepted a second glass of wine and closed her eyes. “What would you think if I called Jack?” she asked. “We used to do that in high school, remember? If I had an argument with my boyfriend, you’d call and smooth the way for me.”
Olivia giggled softly, sitting beside Grace on the sofa. “Of course I remember, but it sounds a bit juvenile, don’t you think?”
“And your point is?” Grace asked.
Olivia laughed. “Go ahead. See what he says.”
Grace didn’t need to be told twice. This was silly, but fun, too. Olivia gave her the portable phone and Grace found Jack’s number on speed dial, then waited for the phone to ring.
Just before Jack answered, she changed her mind and passed the phone to Olivia. “I don’t know what to say.” She was afraid Olivia was going to cut the connection. Instead her friend held the phone to her ear.
“It’s me,” she said. “I wanted to apologize for blowing up at you this afternoon.”
Olivia didn’t say anything for several moments, then she slowly smiled. “You’re forgiven, too.” She laughed at whatever he said. “You can thank Grace. She was the one who insisted I had to patch this up. As usual, my friend was right.”
Soon after, Olivia disconnected and looked over at Grace. “Thanks,” she whispered.
Grace felt good. “You’re welcome.”
“Do you want me to call Cliff for you now?”
She shook her head, but Olivia ignored her. “His number?”
“Olivia!”
“Don’t make me look it up,” she said. “And don’t tell me you don’t know what it is, either.”
“Oh, all right.”
To her surprise Olivia didn’t immediately hand her the receiver. She waited until Cliff had answered, then said. “Hi, Cliff, this is Olivia Lockhart. I wanted to thank you for the flowers you sent Mom. They’re absolutely lovely.” After a brief discussion of Charlotte’s prognosis, she said, “I have someone here who wants to say hello.” She handed Grace the receiver.
Grace drew in a deep breath and tried to relax as she brought the phone to her ear. “Hello, Cliff.”
“Grace.” He sounded both surprised and pleased. “I thought Olivia was staying with her mother.”
“Not exactly—Charlotte’s staying here. But once she’s back in her own house, her friends want to take turns spending the night with her. I’m here because Olivia and I went to our aerobics class and then had dinner and a couple of glasses of wine.”
“Ah, that explains it. You’re feeling brave enough to talk to me.”
“Something like that.”
“We never did finish our conversation that Saturday, did we?”
“No,” Grace admitted.
“Are you willing to try again?”
It was as if she really had reverted to being a teenager. “I’d like that very much,” she said shyly.
“So would I,” Cliff said, and then repeated. “So would I.”
Sharon Castor, Rosie Cox’s attorney in the matter of her divorce from Zach, had explained that the next step was a settlement hearing. Both parties would meet with their attorneys at a mutually agreed-upon location to go over the final details of the case, including child custody.
They were scheduled to meet at the library in the courthouse. The main problem had to do with the children. If they couldn’t agree on custody and division of property, they’d go before the judge in an informal hearing. Sharon had said the judge’s decision wasn’t binding, but it was most likely what would be decided if the suit went to trial. Meeting with the judge informally would save everyone time and expense, which suited Rosie. She wanted this over as quickly as possible. Now that the process had been set in motion, she was eager to get out of this disastrous marriage.
For the first time since Zach had become a partner in the accounting firm, lack of money was an issue. While they were married, they’d lived on a budget and Rosie had been good about keeping their expenses within the confines of that—admittedly generous—monthly allotment. All of a sudden, she had less than half the money she’d had before, and it was difficult to meet expenses. The financial difficulties she’d experienced since Zach moved out of the house were bad enough. But he’d taken half the furniture and half the linens and half of just about everything else. A dozen times a day she’d reach for something to find it wasn’t there. It was a harsh reminder of her husband’s absence from the family.
Sharon Castor and Rosie were seated in the library when Zach and his attorney arrived. Rosie had found Sharon’s number in the phone book. She’d chosen her without references or anyone’s recommendation because she was too embarrassed to admit to her friends that she needed an attorney. She wanted a female lawyer and she liked the name Castor. Rosie wasn’t a spiteful woman, but she wanted Zach to feel like he’d swallowed a dose of castor oil by the time she finished with him. He deserved no less after what he’d done to their family.
Rosie and Sharon waited in silence while Zach and Otto sat across from them.
Rosie set her clenched hands on the table and so did Zach. She avoided eye contact with either Zach or his attorney. A sick feeling invaded the pit of her stomach. It’d started earlier that morning and grown progressively worse all day.
“Did you fill out your portion of the parenting plan?” Otto Benson asked Sharon.
“We did.” Sharon shoved the paperwork across the table for Zach and his lawyer to review.
What amazed Rosie was how civilized they were all acting. Her life was being ripped apart and for pride’s sake she had to sit like a fifty-pound sack of flour and pretend everything was fine.
Zach and Otto put their heads close together and started whispering.
“This isn’t going to work,” Otto said without emotion. “My client loves his children and he doesn’t feel they’ll receive adequate attention if they remain in their mother’s sole custody.”
“You can’t possibly believe that!” Rosie exploded. Zach was as much as saying she was an unfit mother.
Sharon Castor placed her hand on Rosie’s forearm. “Do you mean your client believes the children would be better off living with him?”
“Yes,” Otto answered for Zach.
“In a two-bedroom apartment?” Rosie burst out. This was a joke; it had to be. She was astonished that Zach would even suggest such a thing. Then it dawned on her. Zach wanted the house. He wanted to kick her out of her own home. Move her out and within short order he’d probably install Janice Lamond. The thought infuriated her.
“I could afford a larger apartment if I wasn’t forced to pay all your expenses. It would help if you got a job.” Zach’s voice was close to a snarl.
Rosie glared at him, hardly able to believe that she’d once loved this man. Loved him enough to abandon her career and bear his children. Now just looking at him made her sick.
“That brings up a point I wanted to address,” Sharon Castor said, as emotionless as Benson had been. Rosie marveled at the other woman’s calm, but presumably she was accustomed to this kind of situation. “Rosie’s going to need classes for retraining and updating her teaching skills.”
“The hell she does,” Zach said and pounded the table so hard the papers nearly slid onto the floor. “Rosie has a college degree. What more does she need?”
Rosie started at the violence she saw in him. It shocked her, but she supposed it shouldn’t. She’d never believed her husband of sixteen years would cheat on her, either. While she didn’t have proof Janice Lamond was sleeping with Zach, she certainly
had her suspicions.
“It’s true my client has a degree in education, but it’s been a number of years since she was in the classroom. It would be impossible for her to get a position with the school district without some refresher courses.”
“Which you want me to pay for,” Zach snapped. His attorney whispered something to him. Zach seemed to want to argue, but after a moment, he gave a resigned nod.
Rosie could tell he wasn’t pleased. Petty though it was, she was glad. She’d never thought herself capable of this kind of emotion, but she hurt so badly that she wanted him to feel just a small part of the agony she’d suffered in the last six weeks.
Otto straightened. “Mr. Cox will agree to pay for the refresher courses, but they must be completed within a predetermined time.”
“My main concern is supporting my children and making a new life for myself,” Rosie said.
“You have meetings and volunteer commitments every night of the week,” Zach taunted. “If the kids live with me, they won’t be eating packaged dinners.”
“Do you plan to do all this cooking and caring by yourself or will you be hiring your assistant to do it for you?” Rosie was half out of her chair, so outraged she felt like screaming.
“Please,” Sharon Castor said, again placing her hand on Rosie’s arm. “Yelling isn’t going to solve a thing.”
“I want my children with me,” Zach insisted.
“Allison and Edward belong with me,” Rosie countered.
Sharon Castor and Otto Benson exchanged looks.
“In instances such as this, when both parents have strong feelings about the custody of their children, it’s best to work out a joint custody plan.” Otto spoke first, laying the suggestion on the table for Rosie and Zach to examine.
“How would that work?” Zach asked, his temper cooling.
Rosie’s own sense of outrage was partially mollified, although she hated the idea of her children being exposed to Zach’s girlfriend. Joint custody wasn’t a new concept by any means, but it wasn’t something she wanted to consider. Frankly, she’d assumed that Zach would rather not have the kids getting in the way of his new relationship. She’d also assumed that his arguments to the contrary had been intended as leverage against her.
“I recommend that the children spend four days with Rosie,” Sharon Castor said, “then three with Zach.”
“And the following week,” Otto Benson added, “they’d be four days with Zach and three with Rosie.”
Sharon nodded.
“What about child support?” Zach asked.
Leave it to him to ask about money.
Otto explained that in situations like the one described, there would be no child support paid. However, all expenses for the children, such as braces, summer camp and clothing, would be shared.
At first Rosie fumed that Zach would dare to bring up the subject of support at all, but the more she thought about it, the better she felt. This was an opportunity to prove to Zach that she didn’t need him. He’d figure out soon enough that he needed her, though; he’d never appreciated everything she did for him. She’d be free to make a new life without having to depend on him for anything and that was the way she wanted it. Perhaps joint custody was worth considering.
Fourteen
Grace couldn’t afford a single night in a luxury hotel in downtown Seattle, much less two, but she booked the weekend anyway, using a discount coupon. Next she went to see Maryellen at the gallery. Her oldest daughter had been avoiding her since Christmas. Grace wasn’t putting up with any more of that.
“Hello, sweetheart,” she said, grateful that Maryellen was alone in the gallery.
Maryellen looked slightly apprehensive, and Grace knew she was searching for an excuse to cut this visit short. “Hi, Mother.” She acknowledged her with a brief nod. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“I’ve come with an olive branch.”
Her daughter regarded her warily. “Why is that? Have we argued?”
“Not exactly, but lately whenever we’ve been together, I’ve tried to ferret out information about the baby’s father and your plans. That was a mistake.” Maryellen had refused to answer any of her questions, and Grace suspected that whoever had fathered her daughter’s child wasn’t yet aware of the fact. Her biggest fear was that he was a married man. Maryellen’s reaction to her probing led her to suppose exactly that.
Maryellen smiled. She wasn’t as pale as she’d been a month ago and anyone looking at her likely wouldn’t guess that she was pregnant. But Grace saw it in a hundred different ways and was amazed that she’d somehow missed her daughter’s first pregnancy. Other than that one brief reference, Maryellen hadn’t mentioned it again. At times Grace wondered if she’d imagined it.
“I got us a hotel room in Seattle,” Grace said, explaining the reason for her visit.
“A hotel room? What for?”
“Our first and—hopefully annual—mother-daughter getaway weekend.”
Maryellen raised her eyebrows. “And Kelly’s coming?”
“I hope so.” Grace knew her daughters weren’t exactly on the best of terms. Kelly felt hurt and angry that Maryellen hadn’t told her about the baby. Grace made it a practice not to get caught in the middle of their disagreements, but right now that was difficult because Kelly was angry with her, too.
Kelly had always championed Dan. She felt betrayed by her father—and now Grace was dating Cliff Harding, which she viewed as yet another betrayal. Maryellen’s decision to keep her pregnancy a secret had been the final offense in Kelly’s eyes.
“If Kelly agrees to this, then I will, too,” Maryellen told her.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”
That evening she called her younger daughter. It was no easy task convincing Kelly to escape to Seattle for a weekend, but Paul encouraged her. Her husband, knowing Kelly was miserable, insisted this would be a bonding time for him and their son.
In the end, much to Grace’s delight, Kelly agreed.
Friday evening, the three of them took the Bremerton ferry into Seattle and got a taxi at the waterfront. The young driver, clearly a recent immigrant, leaped out of the cab and opened the door for them, then hurried around to the driver’s seat.
This was an adventure for Grace, and she was determined to spend a memorable weekend with her two beautiful daughters. “It’s a pleasure to have such a gentlemanly driver,” Grace told him, her spirits high.
“Thank you, Mrs.,” he returned as he drove away from the dock. His English was broken but they all made an effort to understand his comments and questions about the city. He headed to the hotel on Fourth Avenue and pulled alongside the curb, where the doorman stepped forward to open the car door.
Grace paid the driver and added a healthy tip. “Welcome to America,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said and bowed his head. “God bless America.”
“God bless America,” she repeated.
The hotel lobby was plush and expansive, with a huge marble pedestal in the center boasting the biggest floral arrangement Grace had ever seen. They walked leisurely to the registration desk and checked in; Grace managed not to wince when she handed over her VISA card. A few minutes later they were escorted to their room by the bellman.
After Kelly had phoned to check on Tyler, she relaxed. This was the first time she’d been away from her son for more than a few hours and she missed her baby.
Sitting on one of the queen-size beds, her youngest daughter wrapped her arms around her knees. “Do you have names picked out yet?” she asked her sister.
There was a tense moment before Maryellen answered. “Not really…Actually, I’m hoping for a girl and if the baby does happen to be one, I was thinking of naming her Catherine Grace.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
Grace felt tears prick her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, not wanting to subdue the evening’s mood by getting sentimental and weepy. She so long
ed for this weekend to be perfect. She wanted to laugh with her daughters, to talk and reclaim the closeness they’d once shared.
When Dan disappeared, the three women had lost more than a husband and father; their sense of family and security had been damaged. For herself, Grace needed answers but at this point it didn’t matter what those answers were.
In the meantime, it was as if they were holding their collective breath. They’d been left suspended between what they knew and what they didn’t. There were no answers to account for Dan’s disappearance—just doubts and questions. Because of this, a rift had slowly developed between them. It was that rift Grace was trying to heal.
They woke early the next morning, eager to explore and play tourist. They started with the Pike Place Market, eating hot rolls and drinking exotic blends of coffee on the street. They walked between long stalls, laden with every kind of fruit and vegetable. Grace liked the seafood stands the best. Fish, crab, shrimp, clams and scallops were displayed on beds of crushed ice. They cheered with the rest of the crowd as the fishmongers tossed large salmon to one another.
They ate lunch on the waterfront under gray, overcast skies. Next they toured the Seattle Aquarium and saw the Imax film of the eruption of Mt. Saint Helens, a tourist favorite. By the end of the day, they were giddy with exhaustion. No one was eager to go out again, so they ordered pizza, which was delivered to their hotel room. They sat on the beds, ate with their hands and laughed over paying an outrageous three dollars for a single can of soda out of the room’s minibar.
Despite being tired, they stayed up, dressed in their pajamas and robes, and talked away the night. Each avoided the subject of Dan and all the conjecture that surrounded his disappearance. Nor did they discuss Maryellen’s pregnancy, other than to come up with possible boys’ names. Yet both subjects were very much on their minds. Like Grace, neither of her daughters was willing to risk the fragile peace they’d discovered.
Sunday when they checked out of the hotel, Grace was tired, and more than a little regretful that their time had come to an end. Yet she was exhilarated to have shared this special weekend with her daughters. It was everything she’d hoped it would be.