Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3

  He relived other memories as he walked from room to room, feeling a mix of nostalgia and melancholy. This house had been a place of happiness much of the time. His parents had high expectations of him and his sister, but nothing was more important than family. He—

  The doorbell chimed, surprising him. He suspected it might be one of the neighbors, coming to check in. No doubt his mother had told everyone in the vicinity that he’d be taking up residence.

  He discovered Miranda Sullivan on the porch. She held a bucket of fried chicken in her hand and looked more than a little uncomfortable. “I brought you dinner,” she said, shoving the bucket at him.

  “You didn’t need to do that.” Her thoughtfulness caught him unawares.

  “I know.”

  She was about to leave when Will stopped her. “Would you care to join me?”

  She hesitated and then nodded. “Sure.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have much furniture in the house yet.”

  She didn’t appear to mind. “I’ve eaten sitting on the ground more than once in my life.”

  “Me, too.” Although Will couldn’t remember the last time. A picnic, probably, and that would’ve been years ago. He didn’t have much interest in that sort of thing.

  They sat in front of the gas fireplace. Will turned it on with the flick of a switch. That was a good thing because he doubted he was capable of building a fire. A lot of years had passed since he was a Boy Scout.

  The chicken was delicious. Will didn’t make a habit of eating fried foods so this was a rare treat. The biscuits were good, too, especially drizzled with honey.

  “What prompted this?” he asked, setting a leg bone aside and reaching for a second piece.

  “I don’t know…. I was halfway home and trying to figure out what I should do for dinner when—”

  “When you realized how foolish you’d been to turn down an invitation for a meal with me,” Will finished for her.

  “No. I thought about you hauling those boxes to the house by yourself and…” She paused and shook her head. “I probably shouldn’t have come.”

  “I’m glad you did.” And to his astonishment he meant it. Until the doorbell rang, Will had been wrapped up in memories of his childhood and starkly aware that he was alone. His mother had Ben, plus him and his sister. Olivia had Jack, her two children and a handful of grandkids. The reminder that he was by himself, in his sixties and without a family of his own, had left a hollow ache in the pit of his stomach.

  Miranda polished off a piece of chicken and wiped the grease from her hands with a paper napkin.

  “I should be completely moved within the next week,” Will said, making small talk.

  “So you’ll be settled before Christmas.”

  “That’s the idea. You can start bringing your stuff over to the apartment anytime after that.”

  She nodded.

  “What about Christmas?” he asked, knowing she didn’t have children.

  “What about it?”

  “What are your plans?”

  “I…I’m not sure yet. Shirley and her kids are going to California to be with Larry.” She seemed to be watching him for a reaction.

  “That’ll be nice for them,” he said carefully. “It’ll be their first Christmas together.”

  “It will, and I’m pleased for Shirley, really pleased. She found the right man for her and…”

  He’d be alone at Christmas. Olivia’s family would include him, but much as he loved his sister and Justine and everyone, he couldn’t help feeling like an obligatory guest. Uncle Will, who had nowhere else to go.

  “And,” Miranda said, interrupting his thoughts, “well, this is totally selfish of me to admit.”

  “Oh, go ahead,” Will urged. He’d begun to feel that this impromptu dinner was a turning point in his relationship with Miranda.

  “Well, Shirley almost always had me over for Christmas.”

  “So you’ll be alone this year.”

  “I have other friends,” she said defensively.

  “Of course you do. But as it happens, I’ll be alone, as well.”

  “You?” Miranda seemed stunned at the prospect. “What about Olivia?”

  “She’ll invite me for dinner,” he said. “But I feel like I’m intruding on her family time.” They’d all make an effort to involve him in their activities. Yet it wasn’t the same as having a family of his own, belonging to someone. Even during the worst years of his marriage, he’d felt as though he belonged.

  “I know what you mean,” Miranda said in a low voice.

  She glanced down at the carpet, and Will realized she wasn’t just saying that, she really did understand how he felt, because she’d experienced the same feeling herself.

  “I don’t suppose,” he began. “No, never mind.”

  “Suppose what?” Miranda asked.

  “You’re alone. I’m alone.” He paused, waiting for a sharp retort, a negative comment. When he saw none, Will continued. “Would you like to get together here at the house, make dinner together, share Christmas Day?”

  “The two of us?” she asked, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

  “Well, yes. If you’re game, I am, too.”

  “Turkey, stuffing, the whole nine yards?”

  “Whatever you want.” He’d never been much good in the kitchen but he was willing to give it a try.

  She seemed to be mulling over the idea. “I think we could do that,” she finally said.

  “Then it’s a date. You and me and Christmas.”

  “You and me and Christmas,” Miranda said with a smile.

  Thirty-Seven

  “Remember, Dad, when we used to string popcorn and put it around the Christmas tree?” Jolene asked, her voice elevated with excitement as she climbed into the front seat of the car.

  “I remember that you ate a lot more popcorn than you managed to thread.” Smiling, Bruce slid into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition.

  Jolene giggled. “Where are we going to buy the tree?”

  “Where else? On Christmas Tree Lane.” That was their tradition. “But first, we’re meeting Rachel.”

  “We are?” Jolene instantly sobered.

  “We invited her, remember?”

  “Yeah, sort of. To decorate. But it’s always just been the two of us when we went to get the tree.”

  Bruce did his best not to show how disappointed he was in her response. “I want her to come with us. Can you deal with that?”

  “I guess.” But she let it be known that she wasn’t completely happy.

  It was times like these that made Bruce want to groan with frustration. Just when it seemed they were making progress, something would happen to remind him how far they still had to go.

  He drove to the terminal, where the foot ferry from Bremerton docked. Rachel had texted him earlier to say she was taking the eleven o’clock ferry. He’d texted back that he’d be there, with Jolene, to pick her up. Then they’d drive to the Christmas tree farm and select their tree. Once they got home, they’d set it up; after that, they’d spend the rest of the afternoon decorating it. As a family.

  Jolene had received a special ornament every year since her birth. Stephanie had started that tradition, and he’d continued it. Each year it was those ornaments that Bruce brought up from the basement first. With great ceremony Jolene would place them on the tree.

  As soon as he’d mentioned that Rachel would be with them, Jolene had grabbed her cell phone and started texting.

  “Who’re you texting?” he asked, glancing over at her in the passenger seat.

  “Carrie.”

  “Do I know Carrie?”

  “Dad, she was over yesterday.”

  “She was?” Bruce didn’t remember seeing anyone at the house.

  “Well, she might’ve left before you got home from work.”

  “Oh.” Bruce wasn’t keen on his thirteen-year-old daughter coming home to an empty house. He’d felt much better ab
out it when Rachel lived with them. For one thing, Rachel had a day off during the week; for another, she was diligent about keeping in touch with Jolene after school. But there was no alternative as long as Rachel lived in Bremerton.

  She was standing by the totem pole when Bruce pulled up. He waited for Jolene to get out of the front seat and go to the back. Instead, she stayed where she was.

  “Jolene,” he said impatiently. “Give Rachel that seat.”

  Rachel had already opened the rear door and slipped inside. “It’s okay,” she murmured.

  She didn’t sound like herself but before Bruce could say anything, Jolene said, “Rachel doesn’t care.”

  Bruce’s happy mood was quickly whirling downward, but he had to choose his battles carefully and there were bigger ones to wage. So he dropped the issue.

  He turned on the radio, which played Christmas music, and soon both he and Jolene were humming along. Rachel didn’t join in. He glanced into the backseat and she offered him a tentative smile, which he returned. Still, he sensed that something wasn’t right.

  When they arrived at Beth Morehouse’s farm on Christmas Tree Lane, Jolene was the first one out of the car. Beth served hot cocoa while her crew directed customers to various areas, depending on the type and size of Christmas tree they wanted. His daughter got in line for her cup of cocoa.

  When Bruce came around to open Rachel’s door, she had her hands over her stomach and was deathly pale.

  “Are you okay?” he asked anxiously.

  She gave him the same tentative smile she had earlier. “I think so. I had a bad night, but I’m a little better this morning.”

  “What’s wrong?” He was growing concerned.

  “Nothing…I’m just under the weather.”

  “You should’ve stayed home,” he said, crouching beside the car.

  “Is everything all right, Dad?” Jolene raised a cup of hot cocoa at him.

  “I wanted to be with you and Jolene,” Rachel said. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I’ve never cut my own tree before. It sounds like fun.”

  “Dad!” Jolene again.

  Bruce glanced over his shoulder.

  “You go ahead,” Rachel said. “I’ll stay in the car.”

  Reluctantly he stood. He didn’t feel good about leaving her alone, especially if she was ill. The farm took up quite a few acres and he could be away as long as an hour, searching for the perfect tree.

  Jolene joined him and looked anxiously at Rachel. “You okay?”

  “I’ll be fine in a little while. You two go on.”

  “You sure?” Jolene asked. “You can come, really. I don’t mind.”

  Rachel smiled. “I appreciate it, but I’m just not feeling that well.”

  “I don’t think we should leave you,” Bruce said.

  “I’ll be fine,” Rachel insisted again. “I’ll be here when you get back. Now go.”

  Still, Bruce hesitated, worried about her pale, clammy skin and obvious discomfort. In the end he and Jolene went in search of a tree, only his heart wasn’t in it. Halfway up the hill, he stopped.

  “Dad?”

  “I’m going back.”

  “Do we have to?” Jolene asked, clearly disappointed.

  “Rachel is my wife,” he told his daughter. “There’s something wrong. I can feel it. You can go on by yourself if you want to. I’m taking Rachel to the doctor or the hospital or whatever she needs. I’m sorry our day got ruined, but Rachel’s more important than a Christmas tree.”

  Jolene nodded, biting her bottom lip.

  “Do you want to come with me?”

  “I don’t know yet.” She turned back and walked over to another tree.

  Bruce wasn’t waiting. He headed toward the road, moving quickly. The scent of cut evergreens mingled with the soft mist falling, but he barely noticed. By the time he reached the parking lot he was running. At some point he’d realized that Jolene was right behind him.

  Once he was at the car, he jerked open the back door to find Rachel curled up in the backseat. She looked at him and sobbed. “I think you’d better get me to the hospital.”

  “Is it the baby?” Jolene asked over his shoulder, her voice frightened.

  Rachel didn’t answer, and Bruce saw tears streaking her face. A sense of urgency filled him as he raced around the car and jumped into the front seat. Jolene threw herself in beside him and slammed the door.

  “Hurry, Dad!” she cried. “Please hurry.”

  How they made it to the Bremerton hospital without causing an accident or getting a ticket, Bruce didn’t know. He roared to a stop at the emergency entrance and dashed inside.

  “My wife is pregnant and needs help!”

  A minute later, Rachel was whisked onto a stretcher and into an exam room, where she was seen by a physician.

  “Is the baby going to be okay?” Jolene asked him, sounding as worried as Bruce.

  He paced the waiting area restlessly, wondering how long this would take. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

  “Oh, Daddy, I’m so scared.”

  He was, too, but for his daughter’s sake tried to act confident and composed.

  An eternity passed before the doctor came into the waiting room and called for Bruce. Jolene went with him.

  “Your wife has food poisoning,” the doctor explained. “As far as we can tell, it was something she ate yesterday afternoon. It isn’t serious but she’s badly dehydrated. We’d like to keep her overnight.”

  “And the baby?”

  “Your child appears to be fine.”

  “Thank God.” Bruce closed his eyes, so grateful for his wife’s health and his child’s that it felt as if his knees might go out from under him. He slumped into a chair.

  Jolene sat down next to him. “Why did Rachel come with us if she was sick?” she asked.

  Bruce placed his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Because she wanted to be with us—to do something together as a family. Rachel never had this opportunity as a child. Her aunt didn’t ever buy a tree. At Christmas she gave Rachel money and had her buy her own gift.”

  Jolene dropped her head. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “I know.”

  “Can I get Rachel some flowers and apologize?”

  Bruce squeezed her shoulders. “Flowers are a nice idea, but what’s more important to Rachel, and to me, is bringing her and the baby into our family. That’s where they belong.”

  Jolene considered this over for a moment and then nodded. “At first, when I was afraid Rachel was in labor, I thought she might lose the baby. I’m looking forward to when the baby comes and I felt sick inside because I know it’s too early.”

  “We could have lost more than the baby,” he said, pressing his cheek against Jolene’s hair. “We could have lost Rachel.”

  She covered her face with both hands and started to weep. Her shoulders heaved convulsively as she buried her face in Bruce’s side and gave way to her tears. “I’m so sorry,” she gulped. “So sorry.”

  He patted her back and whispered soothing words. He’d give anything to make things right between his wife and his daughter. Counseling had helped a little, but for every step forward they seemed to take two back.

  After several minutes of comforting Jolene, Bruce stood and approached the nurses’ station. “Can I see my wife?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’ll take you and your daughter back. We’re getting her a bed right now. It shouldn’t be long.”

  “Thank you.” Bruce and Jolene followed the woman to a cubicle, where Rachel lay on a gurney. She was on her side, doubled up in almost the same position as she’d been in the backseat of the car. An IV bottle was attached to her arm.

  “Rachel,” Jolene whispered, touching her hand.

  Rachel’s eyes fluttered open. “Hi,” she whispered back, and attempted a smile.

  “The doc says they want to keep you overnight,” Bruce said, putting his hand on her forehead, needing to touch her, needing
reassurance that she was going to be all right. Rachel and their baby.

  “I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas tree outing.”

  “We’ll go again when you’re not so sick, okay?” Jolene said as if talking to a child.

  Rachel smiled again. “I’ll help decorate the tree, too.”

  “If you want, you can put up my special ornaments with me. I want to get one for the baby next year. One that says Baby’s First Christmas—just like the ornament my mom got for me.”

  “That can be your Christmas gift for your little sister.”

  “I’m getting a sister!” Jolene grinned at Bruce. “I was hoping for a sister!”

  “A girl?” Bruce said. This was news to him. “I thought you wanted to be surprised.”

  “I thought I did, too, but I asked at my last ultrasound. I was saving the news until Christmas. This is close enough.”

  “A girl,” Bruce repeated in awe. “Rachel, junior.”

  “Rachel, junior,” Jolene muttered, shaking her head. “No way are you going to stick my sister with a name like Junior.”

  “What do you suggest?” Rachel asked.

  “Madison,” Jolene said without a pause.

  “Not my daughter,” Bruce said just as quickly.

  “I’ve always liked the name Corinne,” Rachel told them both.

  “Corinne Rachel,” Bruce mused. “That’s a name I could live with.”

  “Can you come home for Christmas?” Jolene asked. “You need someone to look after you.”

  “Do I?” Rachel murmured.

  Bruce noticed the way they locked eyes, reading each other.

  “Yes, and I want to do it, too. Dad needs you, and so does Baby Corinne.”

  “What about you?” Rachel asked.

  Tears formed in Jolene’s eyes and ran down her face. She nodded. “I need you most of all.”

  Rachel held open her arms and Jolene went into them, sliding her own around Rachel’s neck and sobbing loudly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” Rachel whispered.

  The nurse came into the cubicle. “Hey, what’s going on here? Is everyone okay?”

  “Never better.” Bruce smiled. And once they brought Rachel home, it would be a hundred percent true.