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Authors: Debbie Macomber

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Thirty-Seven

J
ustine 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 Char
lotte, 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.

Justine picked Leif up from preschool at noon. While he napped, she spread out the architect's rough drawings on the kitchen table, and made notes in pencil, incorporating some of the ideas she and her mother had come up with.

By the time Leif was awake, everything had been put away. Dinner was in the oven, the salad was made, and a bottle of wine was cooling on ice while she waited for Seth's return from the boatyard. She had so much to tell him, so much to share.

The doorbell rang, surprising her. Penny, who was in their fenced yard, was barking wildly. Before Justine could stop him, Leif raced ahead of her and happily threw open the front door. He stared blankly at the man who stood there.

“Warren,” Justine said, trying not to frown.

“Hello, Justine,” he said. When she didn't immediately invite him inside, he asked, “Would it be all right if I came in?”

Seth was due home any minute and wouldn't be pleased to find her entertaining Warren Saget. “I suppose so.” She hoped the hesitation in her voice let him know she was reluctant.

She unlocked the screen door and held it open. Regarding their guest suspiciously, Leif wrapped
his arm around her leg, and Justine reached down to pick up her son.

“What can I do for you?” she asked. She didn't mean to be inhospitable, but she wasn't interested in his company. She wanted him to state the purpose of his visit and then leave. That was it.

Warren wore a pained look at her reaction. “I stopped at the bank last Friday. You weren't there but I learned that you've given notice. You never mentioned that you'd decided to quit.”

Justine felt it was none of his concern, but didn't say so. “The job was only for the interim while Seth and I figured out what we were going to do about the restaurant.”

“So you've made a decision?” he asked curiously.

“We have,” she said, her enthusiasm bubbling to the surface. “We're going to rebuild.”

“When we spoke earlier, you told me you were disappointed that Seth hadn't listened to your ideas. Has he had a change of heart?”

Rather than explain the complexities of her business—and her marriage—she just nodded. “Something like that.”

“Well, great. We've been friends for many years, and I hope we can work together on this.”

Justine was sorry she'd confided in him at all, friend or no friend. She now felt disloyal to Seth for saying anything. She didn't answer.

“Tell me what you've decided,” he pressed.

“I don't have time to go into it now. But I will say I'm quite excited about it.”

Warren smiled. “That's wonderful, Justine.”

Bored now, Leif squirmed and she set her son back on the floor. He tugged at her shirt. “Read me a story, Mommy,” he clamored. “Now, okay? Read me
Goodnight Moon.

Justine shushed him. “I need to get back to my family,” she said, hoping Warren would get the message and leave.

“I understand,” he muttered, edging toward the front door. “You will give me an opportunity to bid on the construction project, won't you?”

“I'm sure we can do that,” Justine said, although she already knew Seth wouldn't want Warren on the job. For one thing, his methods and materials were sloppy; for another, he'd use every opportunity to spend time with Justine.

At the door, Warren hesitated and turned back. “I've never made my feelings for you a secret,” he said. “I'd like to be more than your builder.”

“Warren, please!”

“We have a long-standing friendship, Justine. I've missed you. I hoped you'd realize how much I care for you. You mean the world to me, and you always have.”

“Warren,” she said firmly, “I'm married. I love my husband and my son.”

“You haven't been happy,” he insisted. “I know you, Justine. I can see it in your eyes. You didn't want me to find out, but you couldn't hide it from me.”

“That's changed.”

“Has it?” he asked softly. “Or is this just a temporary fix?”

The door off the kitchen opened and Seth entered the house. Penny bounded in with him, then charged toward Warren, but skidded to a stop at one curt word from Seth.

Her husband looked slowly from Justine to the other man.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she said, grateful to see her husband. She walked over and kissed his cheek, circling his waist with her arm. She was silently letting Warren know that her loyalty and her love belonged to her husband. Seth scooped up Leif and kissed him, then petted the dog, who sat obediently beside him.

“Warren.” Seth nodded stiffly.

Warren did the same. “Seth.”

“Warren was just leaving,” Justine said pointedly. She'd explain Warren's presence as soon as he'd gone.

“I came to talk to Justine about the rebuilding project,” Warren said affably enough. He seemed more inclined to stay and chat than to leave.

“I see,” Seth said. Without even a hint of welcome, he strode to the door and held it open.

For his part, Warren didn't budge, and the two of them exchanged lethal glares.

“Would you kindly stop,” Justine snapped, hands on her hips. “Both of you.” She stepped between them, saying, “Warren, please go.”

He cast her a hurt-little-boy look, his voice petulant. “I think you should tell Seth.”

“Tell me what?” Seth demanded.

The dog barked but stayed in her sitting position, and Leif ran into the other room.

“There is
nothing
to tell.” Justine felt like shouting. Warren was clearly trying to cause trouble between her and Seth, and she wasn't going to allow it.

“Warren, stay away from me. I mean it. Is that plain enough for you?” He'd overstepped the bounds, and from this moment forward, she wanted nothing more to do with him.

Thirty-Eight

M
aryellen was feeling very pregnant. The baby could be born at any time, and she'd never looked forward to anything more. She was ready. Her bag was packed, the house was clean, thanks to Ellen and Joe, and her baby blanket was finished. She'd bring the baby home from the hospital wrapped in the pale yellow blanket she'd knit herself.

It was another sunny day, and Maryellen sat on the sofa, gazing out at the yard and folding a batch of towels still warm from the dryer. Jon was at home, working in his downstairs office. That was where he had his darkroom, along with his computer and printer for digital photographs. He'd willingly stayed in the same vicinity as his parents, which was a sign that his attitude had changed, at least a little.

Joe and Ellen had taken Katie outside to enjoy the
sunshine. Like any toddler, Katie loved exploring her world. Through the sliding glass door, Maryellen could see the three of them walking around the yard, exclaiming at the flowers and studying each blade of grass.

Katie had not only grown close to her grandparents, she talked about them tirelessly. If Jon was there, he found an excuse to change the subject. He never spoke against his parents to Katie, but he didn't discuss them with her, either.

Recently Maryellen had noticed the slightest softening toward his family. It'd started the afternoon he found his father playing with Katie as she chased butterflies. That was the day they'd first spoken. They'd exchanged a few brief remarks since then, friendly but noncommittal.

The phone rang and Maryellen automatically reached for it. Now that her due date was almost upon them, her mother called twice a day and visited often. Her sister, Kelly, was due in a few weeks, and they kept in frequent touch. This was probably Kelly; she usually phoned in the early afternoon.

“Hello,” she said, expecting to hear her sister's voice. She did.

“How are you feeling?” Kelly asked.

“How are
you
feeling?”

“Pregnant,” Kelly said, giggling.

“Me, too.” Only Maryellen wasn't laughing.

“My goodness, who knew nine months could take so long,” Kelly complained. Unlike Maryellen, her sister had difficulty getting pregnant, but—again unlike Maryellen—she had no difficulty staying pregnant. “Nothing fits anymore and I've got new stretch marks every day. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It's just that I'd forgotten how uncomfortable pregnancy can be.”

Maryellen was hard pressed not to remind her younger sister that she'd spent most of her own pregnancy trapped on the sofa in their living room. The comforts she longed for were the simple, ordinary aspects of what used to be her life. She yearned for the time she could crawl into bed and cuddle with her husband. The pleasure of a real bath was a forbidden luxury. Climbing stairs was out, too, and since the baby's bedroom was on the second level, she'd had to leave the decorating to her mother and Ellen. It didn't feel right not to be personally involved. She hadn't even seen it yet.

If that wasn't enough to unnerve Maryellen, she endured constant worries about the baby. She tried to be positive; nevertheless, she worried. Because of the problems associated with the pregnancy, she was deathly afraid that something might be wrong with her baby.

Early on, there'd been numerous blood tests and ultrasounds, and then, as the fetus developed, fewer
and fewer. The physicians assured both Maryellen and Jon that everything appeared to be normal, but their words were always followed by a statement indicating that the ultrasounds offered no guarantee.

Maryellen had already accepted that because of her age and the problems she'd encountered, this pregnancy would be her last.

As was their habit, Kelly and Maryellen talked for about ten minutes. When she turned off the phone and set it aside, she was surprised to see Ellen in the kitchen, preparing a salad for dinner.

“Where's Katie?” Maryellen asked as she folded a thick yellow towel.

Ellen glanced up, lettuce in her hands. “She's still outside with Joe.”

Thinking she might have missed seeing her daughter, Maryellen looked again. The yard was empty, and she saw no evidence of either her father-in-law or her daughter.

“I don't see them,” she said, struggling awkwardly to her feet.

“I'm sure they're there.” Ellen washed her hands, and taking the dish towel with her, walked outside.

Maryellen stood at the open glass door, watching Ellen as she strolled casually about the yard. When Ellen didn't see her husband or granddaughter, either, she moved out of Maryellen's sight.

After a few minutes, she heard Ellen shout,
calling their names. Her voice became increasingly shrill when she couldn't locate them.

Maryellen's heart started to pound.
Something was wrong.
She could feel it. Every maternal instinct she possessed went on full alert. Feeling light-headed, she made her way to the stairs that led to Jon's office.

“Jon,” she called, trying to sound calm and collected. “Could you come here right away?”

Her fears must have been evident in her voice, because he was up the stairs in a flash.

His eyes immediately locked with hers. “What is it?”

She swallowed hard, fearing his reaction. “Joseph and Katie are missing.”

“Missing,” he repeated, gripping her shoulders. “What do you mean
missing?

“Katie was outside with Joe and Ellen. I was on the phone with Kelly. When we finished, Ellen was in the kitchen and I couldn't see Katie or your father. You know how much Katie loves the water and—”

She didn't get a chance to finish.

Jon was out the door, and she saw him dash across the yard toward the creek at the back of their property. The rushing water flowed down the embankment that led to Colvis Passage. If Katie had fallen in the swollen creek, it could carry her all the way to Puget Sound.

Standing on the deck, Maryellen pressed her hand against her forehead. Breathless, Ellen emerged from the bushes that lined the far end of the property. She looked at Maryellen and shook her head.

“Where's Jon?” Maryellen shouted.

“He went down to the creek. I couldn't make it.”

“Joe?” she asked.

“I—I don't know. He couldn't have made it to the creek, either. The banks are much too steep.”

Nausea built in the back of her throat, and for a moment Maryellen was afraid she'd throw up. This
couldn't
be happening. None of this could possibly be real, and yet the terror that overwhelmed her
was
real. She had a blinding headache, and feeling nausea and dizziness, she clutched the back of a patio chair.

“I don't know how this could've happened,” Ellen cried, and tears filled her eyes. “Joe was with her….”

But it only took an instant to lose sight of Katie. The little girl loved to play hide-and-seek; all Joe had to do was turn his back for a few seconds, and Katie would see it as an opportunity to slip away.

Maryellen couldn't tell how much time passed. It felt like an eternity. Just as she was about to give way to panic, she saw movement in the bushes. Then she heard Katie's frightened wail. The relief that shot through her made her knees buckle.

Jon broke out of the thick underbrush and onto the grass, carrying Katie. The three-year-old was covered in mud from head to foot. He held her tightly in his arms.

“Where's Joseph?” Ellen cried as she rushed toward him.

Maryellen couldn't hear what was being said. Ellen ran forward, and Jon handed Katie to his stepmother. As soon as he had, he quickly went back to the same path he'd just left. Within seconds, he was completely invisible in the dense trees and shrubs that edged three sides of their property.

Katie continued to wail, but her deep, gulping sobs didn't signal pain so much as fear. Ellen brought Katie to Maryellen. As soon as Katie was in her arms and Maryellen had a fresh towel around her, the little girl stopped sobbing. She thrust her thumb into her mouth, then released a shuddering sigh as Maryellen sat and gently rocked her daughter and allowed her own heart to return to normal.

“Joe, dear God in heaven,” Ellen wept, pressing her hand over her mouth.

Maryellen raised her head to see Jon leading his father through the brush and toward the house. Joe was drenched and shivering with cold.

“What happened?” Ellen asked, coming toward them.

Joseph hardly seemed able to speak. Between
deep breaths, he explained. “Katie was playing hide-and-seek, and she went into the woods.” Joe gasped for oxygen. His skin was ashen and his lips blue. “She got too close to the edge. I saw her slip and fall in, so I went after her.”

Maryellen could picture the older man, racing down to the creek, stumbling over rocks and fallen trees in an effort to catch his granddaughter before she was swept away.

“I slipped, too,” he choked out as he leaned forward, his hands on his knees, fighting for breath.

Jon ran into the house and got a blanket to wrap around his father. Maryellen could see the barely restrained anger in his movements as he spread it over his father's back.

“Ellen,” he said sternly, “get Dad to emergency now.”

His stepmother hurried into the house for her purse.

“Do you need me to drive you?” he asked when she returned.

Ellen seemed to be in a daze. She hesitated, and then declined, shaking her head. “No. Just take care of Katie.”

“Have them check his heart.”

“I'm fine,” Joseph insisted. “As long as Katie's all right, then I am, too.”

“Do what I say,” Jon barked, and Ellen nodded obediently.

Refusing to listen to any protest, Jon took his father to the car and helped him inside. Ellen was already behind the wheel and had started the engine.

Jon stepped away from the vehicle as Ellen pulled out, the wheels spitting dirt and gravel. He stood there watching until she turned onto the road.

When he joined Maryellen on the deck, Jon looked about to collapse. “Katie?” he asked.

“She's shaken up but she's fine.”

“Thank God.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head.

Maryellen did thank God. They'd almost lost their daughter. If Joseph hadn't gone after her when he did, Katie could have drowned—probably
would
have drowned.

After a few deep breaths, Jon reached for the child and hugged her tight. Then he carried her upstairs for a warm bath and fresh clothes.

Maryellen changed her muddy top and when she sat down realized she was still trembling. She was shaking from the inside out, her knees literally knocking against each other.

They'd come so close to losing Katie, she thought again. So close.

When Jon reappeared, she was afraid he was going to chastise her or declare that his parents were no longer welcome in his home. From the moment Joseph and Ellen had arrived, he'd looked for any
small infraction as an excuse to send them packing. He'd never said so, but Maryellen knew.

This afternoon, Joseph had given him the perfect reason. And yet…Jon had called him “Dad.”

Warm and dry now, Katie acted as if the events of the afternoon hadn't distressed her in the least. Maryellen felt ready for a mental ward while their daughter chattered happily away.

“Are you all right?” Maryellen asked Jon.

He grimaced and took her hand. “I don't ever want to live through another afternoon like this one.”

“Me, neither.”

“When I saw Joseph holding her, I didn't know what to say. I wanted to rant at him and berate him for letting Katie out of his sight.”

“You didn't?”

“No. I think he was on the verge of having a heart attack himself.”

“Oh, no…” She wanted to ask Jon how that made him feel but she couldn't. His father had saved Katie's life, yet Jon couldn't acknowledge that, not explicitly, not in so many words.

An hour later, Ellen phoned to report that Joe had been seen by Dr. Timmons at the medical clinic and his heart was fine. His blood pressure was elevated but that was understandable. They were both back at the hotel and resting comfortably.

Grace phoned, and after she'd learned of the
frightening episode, she and Cliff came over with dinner. Maryellen barely touched the chicken-and-rice casserole. She assumed it was because of the terror she'd felt earlier, but her appetite was nonexistent.

After straightening the kitchen, her mother was getting ready to leave, and Maryellen clambered up from the sofa to hug her mother and Cliff goodbye. She suddenly noticed how much her back ached. Then and only then did she recognize what was happening.

She was in labor.

“Can you stay for a while?” she asked her mother.

Grace glanced at Cliff, then nodded. “Of course.”

“Jon.” Smiling, she stretched out her arms to her husband. “I think it would be a good idea if you took me to the hospital now.”

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