204 Rosewood Lane

  “I know, and this is hard, but you can see that your mother and I do nothing but argue. That’s not good. We’re going through this divorce for you kids, to save you from—”

  “You’re doing this for me and Eddie? I don’t think so, Dad. It seems to me you and Mom are doing this for yourselves. Eddie and I just happen to be stuck in the middle, and I hate it. I really, really hate it.” She was shouting by the time she finished. Before Zach could reply, Allison slipped the headphones back over her ears, blocking him out.

  Zach saw the tears in his daughter’s eyes and they twisted his gut. He wanted to tell her that the difficulties between him and Rosie had nothing to do with her or Eddie. This wasn’t their fault.

  Maybe he and Rosie had outgrown each other. That was something he’d read in an article on marriage breakdown that Janice had given him. She’d photocopied it from some women’s magazine. Maybe he and Rosie had stopped having anything, other than the kids and the house, in common, as the article suggested. Perhaps because he made a good living and they were now financially comfortable they’d lost that sense of being partners, facing the world together, creating dreams together. Lately their marriage had been filled with bitterness and resentment. All they did was make each other miserable, and that was no way to live and certainly not a healthy environment in which to raise their children.

  Looking around the house one last time, Zach loaded up his remaining essentials. For obvious reasons, Rosie had been missing for most of the day. This was no surprise, seeing that she spent the greater part of every weekend with people other than her family, anyway. Nor did it upset him when he noticed the breakfast dishes still in the sink, unwashed. That was par for the course. He had his own list of sins that his wife had committed, but unless she made it impossible, he was taking the higher road and refused to drag her faults into a courtroom.

  “You coming to see my new apartment?” he asked Eddie, striving for a bit of enthusiasm.

  “I guess.”

  “You’ll have your own room there, you know.” The second bedroom was necessary if he intended to have the children stay with him, and Zach did. He couldn’t afford beds just yet, but he’d buy them as soon as possible.

  “I don’t wanna sleep in the same room as Allison,” Eddie complained.

  “You can sleep in my room if you want.”

  “I can?”

  “Sure thing.”

  That appeared to appease Eddie for the moment.

  Before he left, Zach asked Allison a second time if she wanted to see his new place, but she sat with her earphones on, music blaring, and pretended not to hear him. She was angry and Zach understood how she felt. Eventually she’d come around and they’d be able to discuss this. Allison had always been closer to him than her mother.

  The two-bedroom apartment was a little less than three miles from the house on Pelican Court. It wasn’t as large, but then he could barely afford to maintain two households. He’d wanted a three-bedroom place, but couldn’t find one within his limited budget. He’d chosen this complex so the kids would still be in the same school district. Otto was hammering out a parenting plan with Rosie’s attorney.

  Once at his apartment, Zach opened the door for his son. Eddie walked into the living room and glanced around, frowning. “Where’s the TV?”

  “I’m taking the one in the master bedroom.” Rosie and he were still in the process of dividing everything up, but most of the furniture had yet to be moved. So far, Rosie hadn’t been difficult about the division of household assets, and Zach trusted that would continue. Considering that he was the one who’d paid for everything in the family home, it was only right that he take what he needed for his new place.

  Apparently it hadn’t occurred to Rosie that she was going to have to find a job. Zach made a respectable income, but he couldn’t afford to pay all the expenses for two households. For the first time since the children were born, Rosie would be forced to work outside the home.

  “Check out the bedroom,” Zach said as he hauled a load of clothes into the larger of the two rooms. The newly carpeted room was stark and empty without a bed, but all of that would be resolved shortly. Soon, Zach told himself, he’d feel just as much at home here as he had in the family residence.

  “Hello.” A soft rapping was followed by a voice Zach recognized instantly.

  “Janice.” Zach hadn’t expected a visit from his assistant, especially on a weekend. “Hello,” he said.

  Shyly, she came into the apartment with a boy close to Eddie’s age.

  “This is my son, Chris,” she said with her arm around her son’s shoulders.

  “This is Eddie.”

  “Hi,” Eddie said, sounding tentative.

  “I thought I’d stop by and ask if you have everything you need,” Janice said. “I know how much work moving can be and I wanted to see if there’s anything I can do.”

  She’d always been helpful, and Zach appreciated her efforts more than ever. She brought in a sack and placed it on the kitchen counter.

  “Eddie, why don’t you show Chris the apartment?” Zach suggested. Almost immediately the two boys disappeared into the back bedroom.

  “I brought you a housewarming gift,” Janice said, then proceeded to unpack a coffeepot, plus grounds.

  “You didn’t need to do that.” Zach remained on the other side of the kitchen, a little uncomfortable with her generosity.

  “I know… You can tell me to get lost if you want, but I knew you were moving in today. I know from my own experience how difficult this is and I hope the transition goes smoothly for you and your wife.”

  “Thank you.” Zach preferred to keep his business and his personal life separate, but without Janice’s help in this recent crisis, he didn’t know what he would’ve done.

  An hour later when he drove back to the house with Eddie, the first thing he noticed was Rosie’s car parked in the driveway. Eddie brightened as soon as he saw it. He threw open the car door and raced toward the house. Zach followed with far less enthusiasm. He’d hoped to move all his personal stuff before Rosie returned. There were still books and CDs and…

  “Hi,” Rosie said, her face tense, but not unfriendly. “I see you’re packing up.”

  Zach nodded.

  “I made a new friend,” Eddie said, hugging his mother about the waist.

  “That’s nice. You’ll have friends both here and at your dad’s place.”

  “Chris doesn’t live in the apartment building. His mother is Dad’s assistant and they came over with a gift to warm the house.”

  Sure enough, his wife’s eyes narrowed to thin, angry slits. “I’ll just bet,” she muttered under her breath, then stormed out of the kitchen.

  Zach’s shoulders sagged in defeat. This was something Rosie would try to use against him when they went to court. Janice’s innocent gesture of friendship and support would be turned into “evidence.”

  Cliff Harding had a good feeling about this Saturday afternoon date with Grace. It’d been three weeks since their dinner and they’d spoken intermittently on the phone. He could tell that Grace still had reservations regarding their relationship. Something had happened in the past three weeks. He wasn’t sure what, but when they did speak she’d sounded shaken and uneasy. When he asked her about it, she made excuses and quickly got off the phone.

  Under normal conditions, he would’ve questioned Charlotte, who was his best source when it came to Grace, but his friend had enough to deal with. She’d soon undergo surgery, followed by chemo, which was hard on a person, physically and emotionally. He’d seen his own father waste away, ravaged by lung cancer. Of course, back in those days they didn’t have the effective cancer treatments they had now. Still…

  So, no, he couldn’t ask Charlotte what was going on with Grace. She had troubles enough of her own.

  But Cliff was convinced it had to do with Dan. She wanted answers about what had happened to her ex-husband, and hadn’t realized yet that the peace she sought
had to come from within.

  However, he was encouraged by her invitation to lunch. Perhaps now he’d understand what had caused her to withdraw from such a promising beginning.

  It was a blustery, windy day, the first weekend in February, when he drove into town. The sky was leaden, threatening rain.

  Buttercup announced his arrival with a sharp bark, then ambled onto the porch where Cliff stood waiting. The golden retriever wagged her tail, and after Cliff rang the front doorbell, he leaned down and stroked the dog’s silky fur. At least he’d managed to win her over.

  “Hello, Cliff,” Grace said, sounding stiff and reserved. She unlocked the screen door to let him in. “Typical February day, isn’t it?”

  He agreed, thinking she looked wonderful in a red turtleneck sweater and tight jeans. The scent of chili simmering in a Crock-Pot on the kitchen counter wafted toward him and he breathed in appreciatively.

  “Smells good.”

  “It’s my chili.” Her eyes refused to meet his. “Would you like to sit down?” She motioned toward the living room.

  “Sure.”

  She waited until he was seated, then sat across from him. “I’ve been rude lately and I thought I should explain what’s been going on.”

  “Please.” He waited patiently, settling back on the worn, comfortable chair. He noticed she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. First she clasped them together as though praying, then she slid them between her knees. Buttercup lay down at Grace’s feet.

  Grace looked sheepish. “Have I done it that often?”

  He merely shrugged, smiling a little.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just that every time I’m convinced that seeing you is the right thing, something happens that causes me to question myself.” She stared at her hands.

  “What was it this time?”

  Grace gently petted Buttercup’s head. “Do you remember when you came that one Saturday last fall and fixed the garage door and cleaned the gutters for me? I was grateful in more ways than the obvious. For the first time since Dan left, I felt like I could go on—that I could let go of my marriage.”

  Cliff had been encouraged that day, too. He’d hoped it would be the first of many such visits….

  “Then shortly afterward—on Thanksgiving Day—I heard from Dan.”

  Now Cliff was completely confused. To the best of his knowledge, Dan had disappeared last April. No one, not Grace or either of her daughters, and from every indication no other friend or family member, had heard from him since then. There’d apparently been a brief sighting in May, but that was it.

  “You spoke to Dan?” he asked.

  “No,” she clarified. “But he phoned the house. He didn’t say anything. He just…let me know he was there.”

  “How can you be sure it was him?”

  “I can’t prove it,” she said and straightened, clasping her hands again. “It’s instinct. Early Thanksgiving morning, the phone rang and there was no one on the other end. It was Dan—I know it was him.”

  Bad enough that Cliff had to deal with an ex-husband who’d vanished into thin air; now he was stuck with ghosts as well.

  “Then after you and I went to dinner in Tacoma, I felt so good about seeing you. I really believed we could have a relationship.”

  “So do I,” Cliff insisted. “We’re right together.”

  “I thought—oh, Cliff, that night was magical. I enjoyed everything about it.”

  “The kisses?” His ego demanded that she admit to enjoying their kisses as much as he had.

  “Those most of all,” she whispered.

  Cliff’s reaction had been the same. He’d dropped her off at the house and he’d felt ecstatic, full of anticipation, looking forward to seeing her again. Then silence, followed by various lame excuses. He hadn’t known what to think.

  “A little more than a week ago, something else happened. This Dan issue refuses to go away.”

  “Did he phone you again?”

  “No—this time I got a call from Joe Mitchell. He’s the medical examiner. Recently a man died while staying at the Thyme and Tide bed-and-breakfast.”

  Cliff remembered reading about that in the Cedar Cove Chronicle. It was a strange story, one that didn’t make much sense. Apparently the man hadn’t been identified yet. “He was carrying false ID, right?”

  “Yes. Joe said the dead man had gone through extensive cosmetic surgery, too.”

  “He’d altered his appearance?”

  Grace nodded. “Joe noticed he was about the same age as Dan and had a similar build. He was playing a hunch when he contacted me.”

  Understanding came in a flash. “The medical examiner thought it might be Dan?”

  She briefly closed her eyes and Cliff realized how traumatized and upset she must’ve been to receive such a call. “Joe thought I might be able to identify him.” She gave a perceptible shudder. “Going to the morgue was awful. Just awful…”

  Cliff slipped closer to the edge of the chair cushion. “But it wasn’t Dan, was it?”

  Grace lowered her gaze and shook her head. “No.” She swallowed tightly. “God forgive me, I wish it had been—not that I want him dead but I need answers. I need to know why he left and if he ever intends on coming back.”

  Her knuckles were white, and it was hard for Cliff to stay where he was. The urge to hold her grew stronger by the minute.

  “First the calls on Thanksgiving and now this. It’s almost as if—”

  “Calls?” Cliff repeated. “There was more than one?”

  “Actually there were three, and every time we answered, all we heard was static. I felt the eeriest sensation, and I knew it had to be Dan. It had to be. Who else would phone not once but three times and then say absolutely nothing?”

  “Wait a second.” Cliff raised his hand, his thoughts swirling frantically. “Who else?” he echoed. “What about me?”

  “What?”

  Cliff cleared his throat. “That was me.”

  “You phoned—and didn’t say anything?” Her voice was raised in accusation.

  “Remember the blizzard I told you about? I tried to call you all day, and I did manage to get through on three different occasions. But the first two times, the only thing I could hear was static. The third time no one picked up and I didn’t leave a message.”

  “That was you?” Grace pressed her hands to her lips. “But I thought…I believed it was Dan.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and Cliff didn’t care what she thought, he had to hold her. Moving onto the sofa beside Grace, he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I would’ve mentioned it earlier, but I didn’t know.”

  “I felt as if Dan was reaching out to me—as if he was saying how sorry he was. A year ago, we’d had a wonderful Thanksgiving and this year…this year it was only Maryellen and me and…”

  Cliff brought her closer still and rested his chin gently on her head. She felt warm and soft in his embrace. More than that, it seemed so right to hold her. He savored these moments, treasured them. He yearned to tilt her face toward his, to lower his mouth to hers, but he didn’t want Grace to turn to him in grief. When they kissed again, he wanted it to be in discovery. In mutual passion. In shared affection.

  The front door opened suddenly, which shocked them both. Grace jerked away and inhaled sharply. “Kelly…”

  Her youngest daughter stood in the room, holding Tyler in a baby carrier, her eyes huge and angry. “What’s he doing here?” she demanded.

  “Kelly, this is Cliff Harding, the man I told you I was seeing,” Grace said, recovering quickly. She left the sofa and crouched down to look at her grandson. Little Tyler was sound asleep.

  “Your mother invited me to lunch,” Cliff added, wanting it understood that he hadn’t stopped by without a reason.

  Kelly remained tense, standing there, glaring at them both.

  “Please, sweetheart, sit down.” Although her daughter was clearly furious, Grace remained courteous. r />
  Kelly did as her mother asked, but reluctantly. “Why didn’t you tell me about Maryellen?”

  Grace sighed and looked away. “It wasn’t my decision not to tell you. It was Maryellen’s.”

  “My own sister is pregnant, and I’m kept entirely in the dark?”

  This was news to Cliff, too, but now didn’t seem the time to mention it.

  “I suggest you take this up with Maryellen,” Grace said. “The last thing I want to do is get between the two of you. I will say that I didn’t agree with Maryellen, but the choice was hers.”

  “She told you, though.” Kelly’s hurt was evident. “She didn’t trust me? She left me to figure it out for myself, like…like I don’t matter?”

  “I’m sorry, but it was your sister’s choice,” Grace repeated.

  “How many other people know? Am I the only one who doesn’t?”

  “I guessed she was pregnant,” Grace admitted. “She didn’t tell me voluntarily.”

  Cliff could see that Grace and her daughter needed to talk, and his being there wasn’t helping. “Why don’t I leave for a while?” he said, getting to his feet.

  Grace reached for his hand and gazed up at him, her eyes appealing. “You will come back?”

  “If you want.”

  “Give us an hour,” she said.

  Cliff nodded, and after bidding Kelly farewell, he headed for the front door. He wasn’t halfway out when he heard Kelly tear into her mother.

  “How could you date again?” her daughter cried. “We don’t know what’s happened to Dad and already you’ve got yourself a boyfriend. I can’t believe you’d do such a thing. First Maryellen keeps her pregnancy from me, and then I learn my mother has a few secrets of her own. What’s happened to our family? Nothing’s been right since Daddy left. Nothing.”

  Then it sounded as though Kelly burst into tears.

  Sunday afternoon, Olivia stood inside the main terminal of Sea-Tac Airport, awaiting her brother’s arrival. She glanced at her watch; Will’s flight was due at three o’clock and she had plenty of time. After several telephone conversations, it was agreed that he’d fly in for their mother’s surgery, which was scheduled first thing the following morning.