1022 Evergreen Place (19 page)

Roy picked up the television remote. “I'm afraid they have to do with David Rhodes.”

“That jerk has a lot to answer for,” Corrie muttered, crossing her arms. Every time she heard the man's name she felt irritated. How anyone as decent and honest as Ben Rhodes could have fathered such a…a
creep
was beyond her.

“Mary Jo's afraid of what might happen if David gets involved in Noelle's life.”

“She has reason to be.”

“So she's doing nothing, which only perpetuates the problem.”

“What does Mack suggest?” Corrie asked, then answered her own question. “Mary Jo has to find the courage to stand up to David.”

“Yes,” Roy agreed, “and until she does, their lives aren't going to move forward.”

“Oh, dear,” Corrie whispered. “I
am
right, though. He does love her.”

“He does.” Roy gave her a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, it'll all resolve itself in time.”

Corrie's fear was that this process might take much longer than it should.

“D
a-ad, I need your help.” Holding her math book, Jolene sat on the sofa arm.

“Algebra? You think I know this stuff?” Bruce asked with a short laugh.

“I would hope so,” Jolene said. “You're the adult.”

“Yes, but it's been a lot of years since I was in school.”

“Just look, okay?”

Rachel had finished the dinner dishes—by herself, since it was easier that way—and was enjoying the exchange between Bruce and his daughter. If Jolene was counting on his mathematical skills, then the girl was in trouble.

“I don't understand why I have to do this,” she lamented.

“You're going to need it in life,” Bruce argued, not sounding convinced.

“Why? You don't,” Jolene said.

Bruce ignored that. He reached for his glasses, a recent acquisition, and opened the textbook she'd handed him to the page she'd marked. Next, he appeared to be study
ing the problem as if staring at it long enough would miraculously produce the answer.

“Get me a pencil and paper,” he commanded with the urgency of a surgeon requesting a scalpel.

“Just a minute.” Jolene hurried back to her room.

As soon as she was gone, Bruce turned to Rachel, who hovered in the doorway. “You'd be much better at helping her than me.”

“She asked
you.
”

“I'm going to look like a dope when I can't figure this out.”

Rachel snickered softly. “Well, you know what they say about the shoe fitting.”

He scowled but didn't get a chance to comment before Jolene returned with a pencil and yellow pad.

“I still don't get why this stuff is so important,” she muttered.

“You need to solve for
x,
” Bruce said.

“I know that, but why?”

“Not
y, x.
”

“Daddy, you're confusing me.”

“Good, because I'm confused, too.” He sent Rachel a look that pleaded for mercy.

As much as she wanted to step in, Rachel didn't dare. The request had to come from Jolene; otherwise, the girl would reject Rachel's offer and resent her for having made it.

After several minutes, Bruce threw in the towel. “Sorry, kiddo, I can't do this.”

“I have the final at the end of the week and I'm going to
flunk,
” Jolene cried, as if leaving this one problem unsolved would ruin her entire academic career. “I'll never get into college if I can't pass Algebra I.”

“You've got years and years before you need to worry
about college,” Bruce said, but if he hoped to reassure his daughter, his words fell flat.

“How can you
say
that?” Jolene wailed. “I
have
to get this right, I have to.”

“Ask Rachel,” Bruce suggested.

Jolene glanced in her direction. Pretending not to notice, Rachel began to wipe down the kitchen counters, which she'd already done once.

“Rachel,” Jolene said hesitantly, “do you think you could figure this out?”

“Would you like me to try?”

“Please.” This was not a word she was used to hearing from Jolene—and it gave her hope.

Pulling out a kitchen chair Rachel motioned for Jolene to join her at the table. “Let's look at this together.” She had no intention of doing the work for Rachel. Her goal was to help the girl understand the concept so she'd be able to solve algebra problems logically.

“The teacher said we'd learn the quadratic formula next year. Do you know what they use it for?”

Rachel remembered learning it, but not its purpose. “Sorry, no.”

“I know,” Bruce said, sounding superior.

“Really?” Rachel was impressed—but wary.

“Sure,” Bruce said. Standing, he swaggered over to them. “The quadratic formula is used to solve for
x
.”

“Daddy!”

Rachel tried to conceal a smile but with little success. “You should go back to your online game,” she advised.

Glancing at the textbook, Bruce winced and said, “Gladly.”

Rachel read over the problem, then wrote it down on the pad Jolene had brought.

“Do you get this stuff?” Jolene asked.

Rachel nodded. “I do. I've always had an ability with numbers.”

“How come you work in a salon, then?”

“I use my mathematical skills there every single day, Jolene. Not everyone who's good with math works in a bank or an accounting office. For example, I need to calculate how much coloring to put into the mix when I'm doing a dye job.”

“Oh.” This appeared to be a revelation.

They worked together for the next forty minutes, until Rachel thought Jolene had grasped the concept and could finish a series of problems without help.

Jolene stood and gave Rachel a tentative smile. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”

The girl returned to her bedroom, and Rachel moved into the living room, just in time for her favorite cop drama on TV. Bruce came in a few minutes later. “That went well, don't you think?” he said enthusiastically.

Rachel nodded. This was almost the way it'd been between her and Jolene before the wedding.

“School is out next Wednesday,” she said. She dreaded summer vacation and the changes it would bring into their lives. Jolene was too old for day care and too young to be left alone all day without supervision.

“I've got her signed up for that drama camp for the first two weeks,” Bruce reminded her.

Yes, but the expense would be a real challenge to their budget, especially if they had to continue this through the rest of the summer. What Bruce didn't know was that in a few months she'd need to stop working, which would take a big bite out of their income.

“It's expensive. And if we have to cover this cost all summer…”

“Yeah, but we don't have any option, do we?” Bruce put his arm around her shoulders.

In previous summers Jolene had spent one or two days a week with Rachel, the rest of the time at municipal or church programs. But these days, the girl wasn't interested in attending any summer camp that also catered to “little kids.”

“I…might have a solution.”

“What?” Bruce asked eagerly.

“I could do half days.” She'd been making excuses lately to explain why she was so often tired and lacking in energy. She also worried that it wasn't good for the baby if she spent too much time around the chemicals in the salon.

If she was at home half days, she could at least keep an eye on Jolene….

He considered that. “But you keep saying Jolene would rather not be around you.”

“She wouldn't.”

“Then you staying home with her might not be such a great idea.”

“In other circumstances I'd agree with you. But I'm making this suggestion as much for me as Jolene.”

Bruce studied her as if he had difficulty following her line of thought.

“Haven't you noticed how tired I've been these past few months?” she asked.

“Well, yes, but I blame myself for that.” He slid his hand between her thighs. “That's
not
why I need to cut back to half days.”

“You're tired because of all the extra hours you had to put in after Teri quit,” he guessed.

“Well, yes, and…for other reasons.”

“Other reasons? Like what?”

“Bruce,” she said, exhaling softly. “I'm trying to tell you something important here.”

“I'm listening, I really am.”

“I know you are.” She took his hand. “But you're not hearing me, are you?”

“I'm trying.”

The best way to say this was straight out, Rachel decided. “I'm pregnant,” she told him quietly.

Bruce blinked. When he apparently realized what she'd said, he leaped off the sofa and started pacing. He shoved his hands through his hair. “Did you just tell me you're…
pregnant?
”

“Yes.”

“You're sure? This isn't a false alarm?”

“I'm sure.”

“Have you been to the doctor?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Last month.”

“Last month?” He spewed out the words. “You've known this for a
month?
”

“I found out the night Teri had the triplets.”

Bruce stared at her. “But how—”

“This might be news to you,” she broke in, “but guess what? I didn't get pregnant all by myself. This baby has a father.”

“Me.”

“No kidding!”

“I'm…not sure what to say.”

“How about—oh, I don't know—‘Wow,' or ‘That's great,' or ‘I couldn't be happier,' or—”

He knelt down in front of her and grabbed both her hands, smiling the goofiest, happiest smile she'd ever seen. “How about ‘Thank you'?”

Rachel swallowed back tears. “That works.”

He placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her. Rachel flung her arms around his neck and reveled in his love.

“Why didn't you tell me sooner?” he asked.

“I was afraid,” she whispered.

“Afraid,” he repeated. “Of what? We both want a baby. We've talked about it. Okay, we'd planned to wait, but it happened—and frankly, I think it's wonderful.”

She slipped her fingers through his hair. “I hoped you'd feel that way. The pregnancy came as a shock to me, a total surprise, and I was afraid it would to you, too.”

“This is the best kind of surprise. I can't believe you kept it to yourself for so long.”

She looked away. “I had to. Because of Jolene.”

The instant she spoke, she saw doubt pass over his face.

“It was the one thing she asked us to do. To wait. Not to have a baby yet.”

“We can't live by her dictates,” Bruce argued. He kissed her again with an adoration that made Rachel go weak in his arms.

“I know and I agree, but Jolene has had to deal with a number of significant changes this year. Adding my pregnancy to the mix complicates everything.”

Bruce frowned. “I still think we should tell her right away.”

“No,” Rachel pleaded. “Not yet. Let's give it a few weeks. Once school's out, I'll start working half days. I'm hoping that the time I spend with her one-on-one will allow us to repair our relationship.” Maybe just being together, without Bruce, would make a difference. Maybe Jolene would stop competing for her father's affection. Maybe she and Rachel could regain the love and trust they'd once shared.

“Well…today was good. She asked you to help her with math.”

Rachel nodded.

“Maybe it'll work.”

“Well, I want to make the effort.”

He continued to look a bit uncertain.

“Let me tell her about the baby,” Rachel said. “I want her to know what an important role she'll play as the baby's big sister. My goal is for Jolene to be as excited about this addition to our family as we are. To welcome this child, prepare for her—”

“Or him.”

“Or him,” she added, smiling, “with joy and anticipation.”

Bruce exhaled slowly. “Fine. I'll leave it up to you. Tell her when you feel it's right.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He sat back down beside her and they watched the rest of the police drama together. Twice she caught him staring at her.

“Bruce,” she muttered the second time.

“What?”

“Try to wipe that silly grin off your face.”

“I can't.”

“Try harder.”

“Don't want to.”

Rachel groaned. “You're going to make this impossible.”

“No, I won't.”

The credits rolled across the screen. “Are you tired yet?” Bruce asked.

“It's only nine o'clock.”

He stretched out his arms and gave a loud yawn.

“Bruce,” she chided. If Jolene walked in on them now, she'd be horrified.

“I can't help it, woman, I'm crazy about you.” Then he chuckled and placed his hand over her stomach. “As
this
proves right here.”

“Shhh,” she warned.

“My lips are sealed,” Bruce said.

Rachel sighed and snuggled close to her husband. He'd promised not to tell Jolene and she prayed he would keep his word. That he
could
keep his word and not let it slip before she was ready to tell Jolene. And Jolene was ready to hear.

G
loria parked outside the McAfees' house and sat in her car for ten minutes before she found the courage to approach the door. She badly needed a mother's advice, and although she wanted to speak honestly with Corrie, she wasn't sure she could.

Chad had left ten messages on her phone. She hadn't answered even one. His final message was that this was the last time he'd contact her. He'd obviously meant it. Gloria hadn't heard from him in the two weeks since.

That was what she wanted. Wasn't it?

Yes, she insisted to herself again. It was!

Then why, oh, why, couldn't she stop thinking about him? She'd spent so many sleepless nights pounding her pillows, fighting to get his image out of her mind, that she was about to go mad.

Yes, he was attractive, but so were lots of other men. The simple truth was: No man had ever affected her as powerfully as Dr. Chad Timmons.

All her life Gloria had been a reserved and private person. She didn't freely share her thoughts or feelings with others. Yet an hour after meeting Chad, she'd practically spilled out her entire life story. She'd shared her
emotions, her doubts and fears. At that time, that first night, she'd even told him why she'd moved to Cedar Cove. No one else knew. Only Chad. That he could so easily strip away her defenses alarmed her. Terrified her.

Now, after two weeks of silence, she still couldn't get him off her mind. She had to do something, but she was helpless to know what.

Holding her breath, she rang the doorbell and waited for her birth mother to answer. Roy was gone; Gloria had seen him drive away as she turned onto Harbor Street. She remembered that Corrie sometimes took Tuesdays and Thursdays off and hoped she'd be at home.

She was.

“Gloria! What a pleasant surprise. Come in, come in.”

Gloria stepped into the family home and glanced at the photos lining the mantel. The one of her, in her sheriff's uniform, stood next to Linnette's and Mack's high school graduation pictures. The professional family photograph on the wall above the fireplace showed Roy and Corrie maybe fifteen years earlier with their two children and a dog, who must have passed into doggy heaven. She didn't even know that dog's name.

“I was just emailing Linnette,” Corrie said.

“How's she doing?”

“Terrific,” Corrie told her. She walked into the kitchen and over to the coffeepot and refilled her mug. “Would you like some?”

Gloria shook her head. “Would it be all right if I had a glass of water instead?”

“Of course.” Corrie immediately opened the cupboard above the coffeepot and took down a glass, which she filled with ice and water and brought to Gloria.

She sat on the stool and drank half the water before
setting the glass on the counter. Her throat felt dry, her skin clammy. “I…I need some advice.”

Corrie dragged a stool to the other side of the counter. “I'm happy to help in any way I can,” she said, sitting down.

“I…met someone a few years back.”

“Male?”

Gloria avoided eye contact and nodded. “I barely knew him and we…” Admitting what she'd done was more difficult than she would've guessed.

“You went to bed with him,” Corrie said matter-of-factly.

Gloria nodded again. “I was embarrassed and shocked by my behavior and chose not to see him again.” Her hand tightened around the water glass. “He made numerous efforts to contact me…. I rebuffed each one until he finally gave up.”

“Why, exactly, did you refuse to see him?”

“First, like I said, I was embarrassed. Second, I felt vulnerable around him. Emotionally vulnerable.” She paused. “There was another…complication. Another woman, someone I cared—care—about was interested in him. So even if I'd been willing to risk a relationship with this man, I felt I had to step back.”

Her mother seemed to understand. “Do you still have strong feelings for him?”

Gloria shrugged. “I must, because I can't stop thinking about him—but there's more to the story.”

“The other woman?”

“No, she's out of the picture.” She had to hope Corrie wouldn't guess that she was talking about Linnette.

“Okay, fill me in on what happened next.”

Gloria could hardly believe the water glass didn't shatter in her hand from the pressure. She made a concerted but unsuccessful effort to relax.

“About a month ago, this man…he let me know he was moving away and…” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “I asked him to stay. He agreed and we went on a second date.” The lump in her throat felt huge and she tried to swallow it. “The same thing happened all over again.” She said this last part in a harsh whisper.

“You spent the night with him?”

Gloria hung her head. “Yes. I woke up embarrassed and…and furious with myself. I don't think either of us planned it but…it just…happened. Again.”

“Have you seen him since?”

Her birth mother seemed to intuitively ask the right questions. “No, and I don't want to.”

Corrie smiled knowingly. “Because you're afraid.”

“Yes, and can you blame me? The only thing we have in common that I can see is our…our sexual interest in each other. He also knows too much about me. I don't talk about myself with other people—it makes me uncomfortable.”

“But you do with him?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in love with this man?”

If Gloria had the answer to that, she wouldn't be sitting in Corrie's kitchen seeking advice. “I…I don't really know. I think I might be, but I don't know my own heart. I feel so confused. I'm not sure of myself anymore or how to react.” She shook her head and her hair fell forward. Tucking it behind her ears, she realized her hands were trembling.

“What would you like me to tell you?” Corrie asked.

“I…I don't know.”

Corrie reached across the counter and took one of Gloria's hands in her own. “I think you owe it to this young man and to yourself to talk to him.”

“What should I say?”

“I can't tell you that. But it seems to me that you're running away from him and, more importantly, from yourself. You tried that once and it didn't work, did it?”

“No,” she said miserably.

“When you thought you were about to lose him, you asked him to stay. That tells me you do have feelings for him.”

“He left ten messages for me. In the tenth message he said he was finished and that I wouldn't hear from him again—and I haven't.”

“You need to talk to him,” Corrie said a second time. “Even if you agree never to see each other again, you need some closure. Some way of acknowledging what happened so you can both move on.”

Gloria knew her birth mother was right. She'd recognized all along that this was what she needed to do, but she'd wanted confirmation from someone she trusted. Corrie wasn't her real mother; Gloria's mother had died in a plane crash. But she was certain the woman who'd nurtured and raised her would have said the same thing.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Corrie squeezed her hand. “Anytime. Will you let me know how it goes?”

Gloria promised she would and left soon after.

That afternoon, she waited outside the medical clinic for Chad. She wore her uniform, since she had to report for duty in thirty minutes. She was on swing shift and, through a quick phone call, had learned that he was on the early rotation. That gave them twenty minutes together at most. The time limitation suited her fine; she'd say what needed to be said, then leave with a clear conscience.

Chad saw her the moment he stepped out the clinic door. He hesitated briefly before heading in her direction.

Her own reaction to seeing him caught her by surprise. She hadn't expected to feel anything. But she did.
Her heart seemed to trip into double time and her throat closed. This wasn't going to be easy and Chad would probably go out of his way to make it as awkward as possible.

“Took you long enough” was his only greeting.

“I thought we should…acknowledge what happened,” she said, consciously quoting Corrie. She kept her hands on her hips, feet spread, the stance she used when pulling over speeders.

“Yes, I suppose we should. Do you want to meet me somewhere so we can talk in private?”

Gloria shook her head. “Here is fine.”

“In the parking lot?”

“I have to be at work soon.”

“The parking lot?” he reiterated.

“Yes.”

“So this'll be short and sweet.”

“Well, yes.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I guess that tells me everything I need to know.”

Rather than ask what he meant, she started in on her prepared speech. “Clearly there's a strong physical attraction between us.”

“You think?”

She ignored his sarcasm, although it irritated her. “I can't explain why you affect me the way you do.”

“But you don't like it.”

“I don't think we're right for each other,” she finally told him.

“Yeah, sure.”

“There's no need for sarcasm, Chad,” she returned pointedly. She'd been correct about one thing; he intended to punish her, make this as hard as he could.

“You might not think so, but it's either that or…”

“Or what?”

He started to walk away from her. “You drive me crazy, Gloria. I've never met anyone like you. You're hot one minute, and when I say
hot,
we both know what I mean. Then the next minute, you can't get away from me fast enough.”

Gloria couldn't very well deny his accusations.

“The night we had dinner, things got out of control. I hadn't intended to bring you back to my apartment. I told you what would happen if we went inside and if I remember correctly you didn't voice any objections.”

She swallowed and looked away, embarrassed because what he'd said was true.

“I woke up the next morning happier than I could remember being in a long time—only to discover you were gone.”

She couldn't meet his eyes.

“Then I found your note. What a shock. ‘Don't call me again. Last night was a mistake.'”

Gloria stared down at her shoes.

“It might've been a mistake for you, Gloria, but I refused to think of it that way.”

She had nothing to add.

“Hot one minute, cold the next. I tried to reason with you. I lost count of how many messages I left you.”

“Ten,” she said, then wished she'd kept her mouth shut.

“Ten,” he repeated. “Ten messages, and how many weeks of silence?”

“Two.” There, she'd done it again, letting him know she'd counted each and every one of those tortured days.

“And now you're telling me to take a flying leap into the nearest cow pasture, right?” His stance remained guarded, defiant.

“I think it's for the best not to see each other again.”

“That figures. Well, go ahead, Gloria, run away and pretend there's nothing between us if that makes you feel better. Trust me, after this last episode, it doesn't come as a surprise.”

She blinked at the vehemence in his voice, the hardness in his face.

“I'd rather we parted as friends,” she said.

He went still, then shook his head. “Sorry. If you want to water this relationship down to ‘friends' in order to make it palatable, then feel free to do so, but it doesn't work for me.”

“How…what are you talking about?”

“Friends, you say? First, I don't know what
you're
talking about. Friends are people I trust. You've burned me twice, and I don't feel that friendly toward you. If this is the way you treat your so-called friends, I pity them. I pity you.”

Gloria's stomach tensed. “I didn't mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I…I thought, you know, that if we passed each other on the street we could…be polite. And if I ever came to the clinic, we could be cordial to each other.”

He rolled his eyes. “That isn't going to happen, so don't worry about it. Fine, you want to be
friends,
we'll be friends.”

He stepped away from her and started across the parking lot to his car. Every instinct demanded she follow him and make things right between them. Yet she remained rooted to the spot.

She stood frozen for several minutes, warring within herself. Chad climbed into his car and drove off, and still she stood there, not knowing what to do.

Corrie had said she needed to “acknowledge what happened” and move on. Chad had agreed. But if that was what she'd sought, she'd failed miserably. Instead of
ending their affair on a friendly note, they were more at odds than ever.

Somehow she made it through her shift and, at eleven that night, went home. Although she was mentally and physically exhausted, she couldn't fall asleep. Many hours later, she downed two over-the-counter sleeping pills and pulled the sheet over her head. The sun had begun to rise, and morning light slithered into her bedroom through the gap between her curtains.

Gloria rolled onto her left side and bunched up the pillow. Ten minutes later she was on her right side and then she rolled onto her back.

She glanced at the clock and wondered how long it would take for the sleep aid to kick in. She closed her eyes, but when she did, all she could see was Chad standing defiantly before her. He didn't say a word, yet she felt his disappointment and his pain.

She felt her own.

All at once she threw aside the covers and sat up as his words echoed in her mind. She'd suggested that being friends meant that if they ran into each other again, they'd be cordial. Chad had said that wasn't going to happen. He hadn't meant he wouldn't greet her.

What he was telling her, she realized now, was that he wouldn't be around for her to greet. He was leaving town.