He didn’t speak right away; when he did, his voice was low and harsh. “You’re all I think about. That’s what gets me through each day. I don’t know where I’d be now if it wasn’t for you. Just remember that, okay? No matter what happens about this fire or anything else, just remember you’re the best thing in my life.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“I realize you don’t know if you can trust me,” he said. “But for my sake try. Please, Allison, try.”
“I will.”
“There’s something else bothering you.”
She was surprised he’d noticed. “Don’t worry about me.”
“What is it?” Anson asked.
“It has nothing to do with you or the fire or anything.”
“Tell me,” he insisted.
She couldn’t hold back a sob. “Remember my friend Cecilia?”
“The woman who works for your dad?”
“Worked,” she corrected, and swiped at the tears that ran down her cheeks. “She’s moving. Her husband’s in the navy, and he was transferred and she’s moving to San Diego.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why do the people I love best all go away?”
“Allison…”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry. You have enough worries—you don’t need to hear that.”
“I love you.”
The tears were coming in full force now. “I know.”
“Tell me about Cecilia,” he said. He seemed to understand how badly she wanted to talk to someone about this loss.
“She’s been such a good friend to me. She’s like the older sister I never had. You probably don’t remember what I was like when my parents divorced, but I went through a really dark period.” She sobbed again. No one else knew this next part. No one, not even Cecilia.
“Go on,” he said softly.
“She told me what it was like when her parents split up. I didn’t want to hear it and tried to block out everything she said. As much as possible I made her life miserable.
“Then one afternoon I came into the break room and found her by herself and she was crying. She didn’t want me to see, but I could tell she was looking at a picture. When I had the chance, I got into her purse and took out the picture.” If anyone had caught her, she would’ve been in serious trouble. “The photo was of her little girl who died. Later I learned she’d named her baby Allison, and that was one of the reasons she felt so close to me.”
The tears fell unrestrained, ruining her makeup. “I talk to Cecilia all the time and, oh, Anson, I don’t know if I can bear losing you both.”
“You’ll be able to keep in touch with her.”
“That’s what Cecilia said, too, and we’ve promised we always will.”
“I’m coming back to you, Allison,” he promised. “Somehow, I’ll make it happen.”
This was the hope that got her through each day. Just as Anson’s memories of her were the thing that sustained him.
Thirty-Six
Saturday, at the end of a long shift, Rachel checked her phone messages and found a slip with Nate’s name on it. Instead of returning his call, she dropped it inside her apron pocket, along with the two already there. She knew what he wanted. His parents were in town. The very thought of meeting Nate’s father and mother was enough to shoot chills of dread down her spine.
Thankfully Teri had given her a wonderful reason to avoid it. The fact that she’d eloped with Bobby Polgar meant everyone at the shop was doing double duty. As much as her own schedule would allow, Rachel had taken over Teri’s clients. Now she and Jane were the only staff left at the end of a long, frustrating Saturday.
Then, as if she’d just gone out for a few minutes, Teri Miller Polgar casually sauntered in.
The instant she saw her friend, Rachel squealed with delight. “Look at you,” she cried as she jogged across the salon and threw both arms around her. Teri radiated happiness. She positively glowed with it.
“It’s about time you got back,” Jane shouted from the reception desk where she’d laid out the cash. She came around and hugged Teri, too, and then grabbed her hand to examine her engagement and wedding rings. “Wow! Look at the size of that rock.”
“That’s not the only thing that’s big.” Teri loved saying the outlandish.
“Teri,” Rachel chastised, slapping her friend’s hand.
“Speaking of big, where is the mighty Mr. Polgar?” Jane asked.
Teri shrugged. “I was distracting him too much,” she said, and her eyes twinkled. “He’s off to Russia on some big chess tour.”
“You’re not going?”
“Do I look like I have a passport?” Teri chided, hand on her hip. “James brought me home, but I’m already miserable without my Bobby. I’ll bet he feels exactly the same way.”
“James the chauffeur?” Jane asked in a mock-dignified voice with a stagy British accent.
“The very one. He’s waiting for me outside.” Smiling, she surveyed the salon. “Believe it or not, I missed the place. I had James bring me here even before I went home.”
“Tell me,” Rachel said, dying of curiosity. “What’s it like being married to someone famous?”
Teri cocked her head to one side. “I don’t really see Bobby as famous, you know? He’s just Bobby. He thinks about chess almost all the time, and talks about it, too.” She grinned smugly. “Except when we’re in bed.” She giggled, then grew serious again. “I’m crazy about him. Me and Bobby Polgar—who would’ve guessed it?”
“Are you coming back to work?” Jane wanted to know.
“Of course,” Teri said, as if that should be understood. “I told Bobby I need to work. He can do his thing, but I have mine.”
“You need to work?” Rachel asked. Anyone who spent as much money as Bobby obviously had it.
“For my sanity, I do,” Teri said. “I could follow Bobby around from city to city and match to match, but I’d hate it. I’d hardly ever see him and I’d be by myself most of the time. This way, he’ll fly in to stay with me as much as possible, and I can meet him in New York once in a while. I’ve got to keep an eye on my kid brother, too, you know. And my sister, Christie, needs me—she’s finally dumping her loser husband.”
“New York?” Jane repeated enviously, back at the receptionist’s desk. That seemed to be all she’d heard.
“Bobby’s got a place somewhere in Manhattan. A penthouse, I think. I haven’t seen it yet, but I will soon.”
“He’s got a penthouse in Manhattan and you’ve got a tiny apartment in Cedar Cove,” Jane muttered. “Hmm. Sounds perfect.” She shook her head. “You guys are about as mismatched as any two people on earth.”
“Jane,” Rachel said, “they’re in love, and that’s what matters.”
“Look who’s talking.” Jane glanced up from the desk where she was bundling the bills. “You keep ignoring Nate’s calls. Why is that, might I ask?”
“That’s completely different! Nate has nothing to do with this.”
“It’s exactly the same. Love conquers all, remember? You’re afraid to meet his parents, so you don’t answer his calls. It wouldn’t surprise me if he just showed up one evening and took the decision out of your hands.”
“I have Jolene this weekend. Nate knows that.”
“And you made sure of it, too, didn’t you?” Jane challenged. “You arranged it on purpose.”
She had, but Rachel wasn’t admitting it. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Turning her back on Jane, she faced Teri. “I want to hear all about Vegas.”
Teri’s eyes brightened. “We barely left the bedroom. So there I was in Vegas and I didn’t play a single slot machine. Do you want to hear how Bobby kept me occupied?”
“I think we already know.” Some details were best not shared.
To her astonishment, Teri hugged her hard. “Thank you so much,” she whispered. “I’ve never been happier in my life. You were the one who convinced me to go with him. I’m so glad I did. Bobby is
wonderful.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I know it’s hard to believe, but he needs me. And he loves me.”
Rachel didn’t find that hard to believe at all.
The phone rang again. Jane started for it, then paused, looking over at Rachel. “You want me to get that or should I let the answering machine pick up?”
“The machine,” she said.
Jane frowned. “Coward.”
It was true; Rachel was terrified of Nate’s parents, especially his mother. She couldn’t help it. That one brief phone conversation with Patrice Olsen had confirmed every fear Rachel had. They hadn’t even met, and already his mother didn’t like her. Not only that, Mrs. Olsen had driven home the fact that Rachel didn’t belong in their world—and Rachel wasn’t so sure she wanted to be there.
“Rachel?” Teri eyed her skeptically.
“Forget all that,” she said, unwilling to discuss her relationship with Nate. “I want to hear about you and Bobby.”
Teri was eager to tell her. “He wants me to buy a house while he’s away. I haven’t told him yet, but I’ve decided to learn about chess, too. I’ve been reading up on it. Did you know chess started out as a four-handed dice game in India about fourteen hundred years ago?”
Both women shook their heads.
“Me, neither. Some really interesting people played chess, too. Charles Dickens played and Tolstoy and Sir Walter Scott. Humphrey Bogart was a chess player, and John Wayne. It’s all really fascinating. Although,” she said with a wink, “I didn’t do a lot of reading.”
Deciding she should change the subject, Rachel asked, “What about the lease on your apartment?”
“Oh, he’s already taken care of all that. Bobby had one of his people do it. You know what is so…so wonderful?” Teri whispered. “He makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the universe.”
“Teri, I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m happy, too,” Teri said dreamily. “So happy I can’t believe it. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve this….”
“You cut his hair,” Jane said, snapping a rubber band around a pile of bills. “One haircut, and you’re set for life. Go figure.”
Not one to take offense, Teri giggled. “You guys want to come to my place for dinner?”
“Sorry, I can’t tonight,” Jane said. “We’re going to my in-laws.”
“I can’t, either,” Rachel said.
“You coming back to work on Tuesday?” Jane asked Teri.
“I’ll be here.”
“Good. Everyone’ll be thrilled to see you.”
“Where are you off to?” Teri asked as Rachel finished cleaning up her station for the night.
“Home. Bruce is bringing Jolene over and—”
“She’s avoiding you-know-who,” Jane supplied unnecessarily.
Rachel reached for her purse and after a brief farewell, she and Teri left the salon. “You want to stop by my place?” she invited. “The neighbors’ll get a kick out of seeing the limo and James.”
Teri shook her head. “I can’t. Bobby’s phoning as soon as he lands.”
“You can take his call at my house,” Rachel told her.
With a silly grin, Teri said, “No, I can’t. I wouldn’t want Jolene listening in on that conversation.”
Rachel laughed. “You’re right.”
Teri walked out to the parking lot with her. James stood outside the stretch limo, awaiting her instructions.
Her friend paused and studied her. “You still care about Nate?”
Rachel sighed. She was crazy about this guy, but not crazy enough to have a face to face with his mother. She supposed she’d have to meet the dragon lady sometime, but she wasn’t ready for that yet.
They hugged once more and each went their separate ways. Rachel had only been home a few minutes when Bruce arrived with Jolene.
“We brought dinner,” he said as his daughter skipped into the house, carefully holding a pizza box.
Bruce followed, carrying the little girl’s overnight bag, which he set down in the living room.
“You can go now,” Jolene said, dismissing him.
Rachel laughed at the shocked look on Bruce’s face. “I guess you got your marching orders.”
He seemed downright perplexed. “Don’t I get any dinner? I paid for that pizza, I’ll have you know.”
Jolene sent Rachel an enquiring glance. “Let him stay,” Rachel said with a smile.
“All right,” his daughter agreed reluctantly. “But you have to leave after you eat. You can’t watch the movie with us.”
“What movie?”
“The Princess Bride,” Rachel whispered. “It’s her favorite.”
“I heard that,” Jolene said. “It’s your favorite, too.”
“Okay, it’s my favorite, too.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “Personally I’d rather paint the living room—which is exactly what I’m going to be doing.”
Rachel went into her small kitchen and got three plates, setting them on the table.
“Do you have any red pepper flakes?” Bruce asked.
“Top shelf, right-hand side,” she instructed, her head in the refrigerator as she dug out three cans of soda.
The doorbell chimed, and Jolene immediately shouted, “I’ll get it!”
A sick feeling grabbed Rachel’s stomach even before she turned to see who it was. Sure enough, Nate Olsen stood in the doorway. With both his parents.
Thirty-Seven
Justine had just spent two hours with a Bremerton architect, and everything had gone as well as she’d hoped. Excited and happy, she phoned her mother, who suggested she visit on her way home. The courts were closed for Flag Day, and while the rest of the business world went about its normal tasks, all state and federal employees enjoyed a one-day vacation.
Justine had always loved 16 Lighthouse Drive; seeing this house never failed to bring her a feeling of peace. The sweeping front porch was like an invitation to come in, to linger, to relax with family and friends.
When she walked up the steps, Justine could hear the vacuum cleaner running. So this was how her mother had chosen to spend her day off. Olivia was cleaning house. That was typical; her mother was a stickler for order. According to Olivia and to Charlotte, as well, that old bromide about cleanliness being next to godliness was one hundred percent true. While Justine agreed in theory, she had other priorities and struggled to keep up with her young son and her husband, her friends, the house, plus her job. Justine had handed in her notice the previous Friday; the manager hated to see her leave and had offered her an employment package that sounded tempting. Justine, however, had other plans.
After knocking, she let herself in the front door. Only it wasn’t her mother doing the vacuuming, as she’d assumed. Jack Griffin stood in the middle of the living room wearing headphones, one of her mother’s frilly white aprons tied around his waist. His eyes grew wide with shock when he saw her.
“Well, well, well,” Justine said, unable to hold back an amused grin.
Jack glared at her and removed the headphones.
“Now, this is news,” she murmured. “Should I call for a reporter from the Chronicle?”
“You tell a soul about this and you’re dead meat,” Jack threatened, scowling into the kitchen at Olivia.
“Children, children,” her mother called, as she entered the room, drying her hands on a dish towel.
Jack held Justine’s gaze. “Your mother said vacuuming ranked right up there with jogging,” he muttered. “She made a convincing case. It seemed an easy way to get my daily exercise.”
“And the apron?” Justine asked.
Jack’s gaze connected with Olivia’s. “That was your mother’s idea, too. Something about dusting the bookshelves…” He quickly pulled off the offending apparel and tossed it on the sofa. “You aren’t going to say anything, are you? This is our little secret, right?”
Justine raised her hand as if swearing an oath. “My lips are sealed.”
/> Shaking her head, Olivia walked over and hugged Justine. “It’s wonderful to see you, sweetheart. So your appointment with the architect went well?”
Justine smiled brightly. “Mom, I really think this idea of yours is going to work.”
“Of course it’s going to work,” Olivia said as if she’d never doubted that for a moment. “And it wasn’t really my idea. If you recall, we came up with it together. I just happened to comment how nice it would be to have a special place to go for an elegant tea. Next thing I know, you’ve got everything in motion.”
“I don’t have to eat at this tearoom, do I?” Jack asked as he unplugged the vacuum and rolled it toward the hallway closet. He thrust his little finger in the air and sipped from an imaginary cup.
“Not unless you wear your apron,” Justine teased, saluting him with her own hooked pinkie.
Her comment earned her a dirty look from Jack. “Very funny.”
“Next time I’ll lock the front door,” Olivia promised him.
“There won’t be a next time.”
“Yes, dear.”
Jack checked his watch. “I’d better get to the office. Some of us have to work, you know.” He kissed Olivia long enough to cause her mother to blush profusely. With a flourish Jack bowed, then started for the door. Just before he left, he caught Justine’s gaze and winked. She winked back.
Justine loved the changes she’d seen in her mother since Olivia’s marriage to Jack. For the first time since Jordan’s death, she felt her mother was truly happy. Come to think of it, she was happy, too. The fire had changed everything for a while and she’d faltered; so had Seth. They were finally coming out of this stupor and finding themselves again.
Justine and her mother talked over cups of tea, exchanging ideas. Olivia suggested a brand of tea she particularly enjoyed. They talked about dishes for the tearoom and Justine decided to purchase an assortment of teapots of different colors and styles. Justine wondered if her grandmother would share her recipe for coconut cake, a longtime family favorite. Olivia was sure she would. Lunches would be soups, salads and sandwiches, with a special each day. They wrote out lists of recipe ideas and discussed decor.