Grace smiled despite her sadness. “I was thinking about your father and how proud he would’ve been of his grandchildren.”
Maryellen looked away and, when she turned back, her eyes brimmed with tears. “I think about Dad a lot. I miss him. I didn’t expect I would…. I was so furious with him for what he did. Now … now I’m not. I just feel so sad for him and what he’s missing.”
Grace leaned forward. “I miss him, too. We’ll never fully understand why he chose suicide, and there’s no point in trying to find a logical reason. He wasn’t himself.” And hadn’t been for years, she thought but didn’t say.
“I know.”
Grace heard sounds from upstairs indicating that Katie had awakened from her nap. “I’ll get her,” she told Maryellen, wiping the tears from her own cheeks as she walked up the stairs to collect her granddaughter.
Still tired and a little cranky, Katie crawled into her grandmother’s arms and pressed her cheek against Grace’s shoulder. Moving carefully on the steps, Grace carried her granddaughter back to the living room. She settled down on the sofa again and held Katie close.
“I heard the art gallery isn’t doing so well,” Maryellen said. She met her mother’s gaze. “Lois phoned the other day and said sales are way down.”
Lois Habbersmith had taken over as manager when Maryellen had to quit. Grace knew that Maryellen had always had reservations about Lois’s ability to cope with the job’s responsibilities. Her daughter’s instincts had proved to be right. Lois was overwhelmed, and the gallery seemed to be suffering. Grace hated to see all of Maryellen’s hard work erode.
It was at the gallery that her daughter had met Jon Bowman. What a blessing he’d been to Maryellen—to the whole family.
“There’s talk that the gallery might have to close,” Maryellen murmured. Grace recognized frustration as well as sadness in her daughter’s voice.
“That would be a real pity.”
“I think so, too, but I can’t go back to work.” Maryellen sighed. “I’d like to, but it’s impossible. Besides, I’m managing Jon’s career now. With two children under four, plus getting Jon’s photographs out to the various agents, I have all I can deal with.”
“I know,” her mother said. “The gallery’s not your obligation anymore.”
“It’s just that I put so much time and energy into the place,” Maryellen said regretfully. “It really bothers me to see it failing. I’m positive that, given half a chance, it could be profitable again.”
Grace believed that, too. None of the artists her daughter had worked with depended on income from The Harbor Street Gallery as their sole support. But sales there had supplemented many of the local artists’ revenue, including Jon’s.
Katie squirmed down from her lap, and Grace took her into the kitchen to let the little girl choose her own afternoon snack. Katie decided on a graham cracker and juice.
When she returned, Maryellen had finished nursing Drake. “Olivia came by yesterday with a gift for the baby.”
Olivia and Grace had been best friends nearly their entire lives. Before Grace could comment, her daughter continued. “She said something interesting.” Maryellen studied her closely.
Grace had a feeling she already knew what this was about. “Does it have to do with Will Jefferson?”
Maryellen nodded.
Slowly expelling her breath, Grace sat down. Will was Olivia’s older brother. In high school Grace had a huge crush on Will, but he’d hardly known she was alive. He’d gone off to college, married and moved to Atlanta. She’d married Dan and stayed in Cedar Cove.
Decades later, after Dan’s death, Will had contacted Grace to tell her how sorry he was. Their e-mail relationship had started out innocently enough. Then it turned into an affair in every sense but the physical—and that would’ve happened within a matter of weeks. Grace wasn’t blameless by any means; she knew Will was married. He’d lied, though, and said he was divorcing his wife, Georgia. Because she so badly wanted to believe him, she’d agreed to meet him in New Orleans, where they planned to share a hotel room. She was mortified when she’d learned, quite by accident, that Will had no intention of leaving his wife—for her or for any other reason. Fortunately, she’d found out before she went to Louisiana.
That betrayal had nearly destroyed Grace’s relationship with Cliff Harding. Over time, he’d forgiven her for the pain she’d brought him. Now she considered herself the luckiest woman in the world to be his wife.
“Olivia told me he’s divorced—and that he’s moving back to Cedar Cove,” Maryellen said, still studying Grace.
“I heard he might do that,” she said through numb lips.
“Why now?” Maryellen demanded.
Grace could only shrug. Apparently, seeing other women was nothing new to Olivia’s brother. Grace wasn’t his first indiscretion and she wasn’t his last. Finally Georgia had had enough and filed for divorce. Now, after nearly forty years of marriage, she wanted out.
“You aren’t going to see him, are you?” Maryellen asked.
Grace shook her head adamantly. “Not if I can help it.” In fact, she intended to do whatever she could to avoid Will Jefferson. The problem was, he hadn’t taken her rejection lightly.
He’d come to Cedar Cove once before, hoping to talk his way around his lies and her objections. There’d been an ugly incident, and Cliff had become involved. Just remembering it made Grace want to bury her face in her hands. Until Will had reentered her life, she hadn’t realized how quickly she could lower her principles or how stupid she could be when it came to love. Or, more accurately, infatuation.
“Does Cliff know?”
Grace shook her head again. She should tell him. That went without saying, but even while she acknowledged it, Grace told herself she wasn’t quite ready. She’d do it, of course. Just not yet. The time wasn’t right.
Getting past how she’d misled Cliff—no, how she’d lied to him—had been a major hurdle in their relationship. Unfortunately, his first wife had cheated on him, so Cliff recognized all the signs. He’d heard the excuses. This was a path he wasn’t walking twice. It’d taken Grace months to prove herself to him. Now she was unwilling to put her marriage at risk over a man who meant absolutely nothing to her. His lies had destroyed any feeling she’d had.
The sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupted her thoughts.
“Daddy’s home,” Maryellen announced for Katie’s benefit.
Scrambling out of her chair, Katie ran toward the door, her face lit up with joy. “Daddy, Daddy!”
Jon entered the house and swept the three-year-old into his embrace. With her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, Katie smeared kisses across her father’s cheek.
“How are my girls doing?” Jon asked.
Maryellen looked up at him and smiled. “Your son
