92 Pacific Boulevard (31 page)

Gloria nodded, turned and hurried away. Either she’d taken a huge step forward or she’d made the most foolish mistake of her life. No, the
second
most foolish mistake…

M
ack rounded a corner of the high-school playing field during his five-mile run. His legs and his heart were pumping at their maximum. His thoughts kept pace as he contemplated his relationship with Mary Jo. Although they were engaged, it wasn’t what he’d expected. Even now, Mack remained somewhat unsure of Mary Jo’s feelings toward him. If she genuinely loved him, he saw little evidence of that. His own feelings, however, hadn’t changed—he was crazy about her and Noelle.

Things had improved since their talk—and their kiss—but Mack sensed a reserve in her, a hesitation. In some ways their relationship had returned to what it had been before David’s threatening visit. They had dinner together three or four nights a week and they’d resumed their card playing and television watching. That much was good. Most of the tension between them had abated, and for that Mack was grateful. Still, he was aware of her reluctance to become more involved and he didn’t understand it.

They’d kissed that one time, which had been wonderful. However, their kisses since then were restrained. Perfunctory. Brief kisses at the end of the evening were the
most he’d come to expect. Nothing too passionate or even playful. Mack wanted more, hungered for more, and always left her half of the duplex with an ache in his gut.

Five months ago if someone had told him he’d be engaged he might’ve been skeptical. Still, it would have been a possibility. But if anyone had predicted he’d be crazy in love with his fiancée, who was living in one side of a duplex with him on the other, and that they’d barely touch, he’d have laughed. Yet that was exactly what was happening and he felt helpless to do anything about it.

He didn’t know what had possessed him to agree to her stipulation of a six-month engagement, in which they were to do nothing more than exchange quick kisses and hold hands. Unbelievable! They hadn’t even been engaged a month. The thought of going an additional five seemed intolerable. Most engaged couples were in love and acted like it.

The harder he ran, the clearer things became. He should’ve realized it earlier. Mary Jo enjoyed his company and his protection, but she wasn’t in love with him. If she was, she wouldn’t have been able to maintain this hands-off policy. While he panted with longing, she kept a respectable distance.

What also became clear was that any feelings she had for him were clouded with appreciation for the help Mack had given her. She’d been desperate to get away from her brothers, to gain her independence.

In his eagerness to bring her and Noelle to Cedar Cove, he’d misjudged. She needed space and time to deal with her emotions and resolve the issues with David by herself—without him
or
her brothers meddling, making decisions for her.

Instead of recognizing Mary Jo’s need to handle her
own life, her own affairs, and raise her daughter as she saw fit, Mack had been trying to play the role of hero. Hoping to smooth the way for her, he’d robbed Mary Jo of the opportunity to prove herself. When he’d moved her next door, he hadn’t allowed her any genuine choice. He’d stacked the deck by renting the place to her so cheaply, without ever revealing the truth. He’d made it impossible for her to refuse. Mack had simply replaced Linc and become the big brother she both loved and resented.

What an idiot he’d been. Mack liked to think of himself as fairly intelligent and marveled that it’d taken him this long to see what he’d done. His emotions had blinded him to what should’ve been obvious. His love for Mary Jo and Noelle was suffocating her.

Even when he’d talked to Linnette, Mack had been so focused on himself and his needs that he hadn’t given the slightest thought to Mary Jo’s fears. No wonder she held him at arm’s length.

Decisive action had to be taken. Difficult as it was, he had to step away, give Mary Jo the independence she needed and pretend he didn’t care.

Depressed, Mack finished his run. He did some intermittent stretches, slowing to a trot to cool down. As he reached the duplex he came to a standstill.

Mary Jo was outside, sweeping the walkway; she often did light yard work on Sunday afternoons. She smiled when she saw him.

He made a point of looking away but not before he saw her frown in confusion. He’d planned to think about everything more thoroughly but since she was available to talk now, perhaps it would be best not to delay the inevitable. He walked toward her.

“How was your run?” she asked.

Consumed by his thoughts, Mack didn’t reply. “Do you have a minute?” he asked, wanting to avoid chitchat.

“Uh, sure. Is something wrong?”

Hands on his hips, he flung his head back and stared up at a cloudless sky. He didn’t offer any reassurances and gestured toward her side of the duplex instead.

He followed Mary Jo inside and into the kitchen. Knowing he liked iced tea, she kept a pitcher filled inside the refrigerator. Mack had taken it as a sign that she cared and realized now that she would’ve done it for her brother or a friend or anyone.

“Thanks,” he said as she took a tall glass from her cupboard.

“What’s up?” Mary Jo asked as she handed him the tea.

Mack took a deep swallow of the cold drink, savoring the liquid as it slid down his throat. He tried to compose his thoughts. When he’d drunk some of the tea, he set his glass on the kitchen counter. Mary Jo stood on one side of the room and he stayed on the other.

“I run for more than the exercise,” he said. He had trouble meeting her eyes. “It gives me a chance to think.”

She didn’t comment.

“While I was out this afternoon, it occurred to me that I have a special bond with you.”

Her responding smile was warm. “I know.”

“That bond is Noelle.”

Her gaze flickered, as if she was slow to comprehend his meaning.

“We both love Noelle.” Finally, he looked directly at her. “You’re her mother and I’m the one who delivered her. That baby girl captured my heart the moment she drew her first breath.”

Mary Jo remained silent, watching, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m afraid my love for Noelle…confused me, and I assumed I’d fallen in love with you, too. While I was running this afternoon, I figured out that my emotions were all jumbled and that—well, that…my love for you isn’t what I thought it was.” He nearly choked on the words but somehow managed to maintain eye contact.

“I’m not sure what you’re saying,” she said after a strained pause.

“I guess I’m trying to explain that when I heard how David threatened to take Noelle from you, I panicked. Marrying you seemed like a viable solution and now…”

“It doesn’t,” she finished for him.

“Yes,” he answered, grateful she’d said the words. Even now Mack wasn’t convinced he would’ve been able to spit them out. Because he did love her and, more than anything in this world, wanted her as his wife.

“About Noelle…”

“Yes, Noelle. The engagement was for her protection. We both felt if we were engaged and then married, that would keep David from pestering you.”

“But the only reason he’s interested in Noelle is because he thinks he can manipulate his father into giving him money.”

“Right.” Mack nodded. “If you have any more problems with him, just let me know.”

“What will you do?” she asked.

Mack didn’t have an answer for that. “I’ll sort it out when I have to. But rest assured, I’m not going to let anything happen to Noelle.” Or to Mary Jo, either. “I’ll help you whenever you need me to. You have my word on that.”

She looked away and sighed. “And you realized you can help without the necessity of marrying me.”

“Yes,” he said. “Instinctively you knew that.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, a slight edge to her voice.

“You wanted that six-month engagement,” he reminded her. “Which was more of a probation period.”

“Oh…yes.” She did busywork in the kitchen, folding the
Cedar Cove Chronicle
and tossing it into the recycling bin, then smoothing out a towel that lay on the counter. “So what you’re saying is you want out of the engagement?”

He hesitated and swallowed hard. “That might be for the best.”

“Fine.” She hung the towel on the oven door. “You said I knew marriage wasn’t right for us, but you obviously did, too.”

He frowned.

“You didn’t tell your parents, remember? That must’ve been why.”

Perhaps, but he doubted it. He took another long drink of his iced tea and set the empty glass aside. “Then we understand each other?” he asked.

She gestured weakly. “I’m sorry, I guess I don’t. What
is
our relationship, Mack?”

Good question. He shrugged.

“We’re neighbors,” she began.

“Well, of course,” he said. As well as landlord and tenant. He quickly decided this wasn’t the appropriate time to divulge
that.
And it wasn’t as though it was hurting him financially. Plus, he rationalized, the fact that he owned the duplex meant she’d been able to attain at least a degree of independence.

“Friends.”

“I certainly hope so.”

His response seemed to reassure her.

“But you’d like the freedom to…to see other women, wouldn’t you?” she asked, her voice sharpening. “That’s
really
what this is all about, isn’t it?”

He stiffened. “If you’re suggesting I’ve met someone else, then you’re wrong.” He didn’t want her to think he was another David, a man who’d discard her without a care.

“But you want the freedom to see others,” she said.

“That goes for you, too.” Again the words nearly stuck in his throat. “You’d be free to date other men if you wished.” He hoped that wasn’t the case. It would be hell on earth to watch some other man stroll into her life, and stand idly by. Mack didn’t know if he could do it.

She looked down at her bare hand. “I guess it’s just as well we never got around to shopping for rings.”

“Just as well,” he repeated.

“Perhaps that was another instance of us both knowing that marriage wasn’t right for us.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed.

They seemed to run out of things to say at the same time. But Mack couldn’t bring himself to leave. In the pit of his stomach he knew that once he walked out the door, invitations to visit would be few and far between.

“Do you feel better?” Mary Jo asked after a lengthy silence. “I always do when I’ve finally told someone the truth.”

“Yeah,” he said and forced a smile at the irony of her statement. He started toward the door, then abruptly turned back. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise me you won’t let pride get in the way.”

“I can’t, not where Noelle’s concerned,” she said. “Anyway, I know how important she is to you, and I wouldn’t keep you apart.”

“I’m grateful.”

She walked with him and held open the door. Head down, long hair hiding her face, she said, “I’m grateful, too—that you’re my…friend.”

Mack found he couldn’t leave without kissing her. Slipping his finger beneath her chin, he raised her face and then, after a single heartbeat, lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and tender. When he lifted his head, Mack could hardly speak. “Friends and neighbors and…perhaps more.” He wanted to be sure she understood that the possibility existed. What he hoped, what he needed, was some indication from Mary Jo that she wanted him as part of her life. Then and only then could they move forward.

Mary Jo closed the door after Mack, then sank onto the living room sofa, almost too stunned to think. She supposed Mack was right to break the engagement. She liked him a great deal and was already half in love with him—maybe all the way in love with him. So much had happened in the past year, so much she didn’t fully understand. If her mother had been alive she could’ve talked things over with her. And there wasn’t anyone else. She wouldn’t dream of burdening Grace or Olivia.

Her life was completely different from what it had been a few months ago. She had little in common these days with even her closest friends. Yes, they chatted and stayed in touch, but Mary Jo had a baby and could no longer take off at a moment’s notice to go to a movie or shop or do anything else. Her whole life, and therefore all her relationships, had changed since Noelle’s birth.

In a relatively short time she’d become a mother, left her family home, moved to a new town, taken a new job. Now she had one more item to add to that list. She’d become engaged and unengaged within a month. But like everything else, she’d deal with that and with Mack’s confused feelings for her.

He was right, of course; it was better to be honest, although she was still unsure exactly where their relationship stood. One thing she did feel sure about, though, was the fact that Mack would move heaven and earth to protect Noelle.

The baby stirred from her afternoon nap and Mary Jo went into her room. After changing Noelle’s diaper and feeding her, she set her in her baby seat and began doing what she always did when she felt troubled. She cleaned house.

While she was hanging up her clothes in the bedroom closet, the nail from a loose board caught on the toe of her sock. It wasn’t the first time she’d snagged a sock on that nail. Under other circumstances, she’d ask Mack to hammer it down for her, since he acted as the rental manager on behalf of his friend. But she couldn’t go to him just now. Besides, she was fairly competent. All she really needed was something to pound the nail. A shoe with a solid heel would work equally well.

“Your mother is no dunce,” she told Noelle as she knelt on the floor and found an appropriate shoe. Once down on all fours, Mary Jo saw that more than one board was loose. Retrieving a flashlight from her drawer, she aimed it at the closet floor, ready to pound away, when an object of some kind caught her attention.

“Noelle,” she said, her voice rising. “There’s something underneath this board.”

The baby cooed from the other side of the bedroom.

Mary Jo used her fingers to wiggle the nail out, then managed to free the second one. Once the board was loose, she lifted it up and discovered, still partially hidden, what seemed to be a wooden box.

Mary Jo worked at the remaining floorboards in the closet until she could retrieve the box. Breathless, she sat on the floor, holding it in her lap. The wooden box was old; that much was apparent. It was larger than a cigar box and light. The writing on it had faded long ago to the point that it was unreadable.