204 Rosewood Lane. Debbie Macomber
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“Yes. Since you haven’t heard from Daniel in five months, I don’t foresee any legal complications. The divorce should be final in a few weeks.”
Almost four decades tossed out the window like so much garbage. The good years, the bad years, the lean ones, the years they’d scrimped and saved. Like all couples, they’d had their share of problems, but despite everything they’d held their marriage together. Until now, until this—
“Mom?” Maryellen whispered.
Grace nodded abruptly, surprised at the emotion that choked her. She’d shed all the tears she intended to. In the months since Dan’s disappearance, Grace had deeply grieved the loss of her marriage and the man she thought she knew. The truth of it was, she no longer had a choice; divorce had become inevitable. It was essential that she protect her financial interests. According to the attorney, she couldn’t afford the luxury of doing nothing.
Her legal situation was one thing, and she’d dealt with that, but the emotional impact had left her badly shaken. Despite her resolve, the grief hadn’t diminished. And the humiliation of what Dan had done was with her constantly. Everyone in town was aware of her circumstances and the fact that her husband had walked out on her.
Slowly, Grace set the pen aside.
“I’ll wait to hear from you, then,” she said to her attorney, rising out of the chair. Maryellen stood with her.
The attorney, a young man closer to Maryellen’s age than her own, escorted them to the office door. He began to say something, then merely looked down and murmured a brief goodbye.
Outside his small home office, the sky had turned a depressing leaden gray. Grace felt a burden of sadness settle over her; she’d known this appointment wasn’t going to be easy, but she hadn’t expected it to exact such a toll on her self-confidence.
Maryellen glanced at her watch. “I need to get back to the gallery.”
“I know,” Grace said. Her daughter had offered to go to this appointment with her for moral support. Although she was grateful, Grace had thought it unnecessary. But Maryellen was right.
Her daughter was divorced, too. Maryellen had married young and unwisely, and the marriage had ended in less than a year. The experience had so biased her against men, she’d steered away from relationships ever since. Grace had tried to assure her that she’d meet a wonderful man someday, a man waiting for someone exactly like her. Maryellen had considered that naive and refused to listen and now Grace understood why. Divorce hurt, and it was the kind of vicious pain that reached deep inside a person. Grace felt off balance and guilty, as though she had somehow failed. As though it was all her fault. Maryellen knew what it was like because she’d experienced these emotions herself when she was much younger and without the wisdom or perspective maturity brings.
“Will you be all right?” Maryellen asked, obviously reluctant to leave.
“Of course,” Grace said, forcing a smile. She ought to be feeling a measure of relief, after all. She’d finally taken action. She’d given Dan every opportunity, even issued a series of mental ultimatums and deadlines. He would come back when Kelly’s baby was born. By the Fourth of July. By their wedding anniversary. First one, then another, until she faced the truth. He wasn’t coming back. If she hadn’t heard anything from him by now, she shouldn’t expect that she ever would. Dan had no intention of being found.
“Are you going back to work?” Maryellen asked.
“No,” she said, refusing to allow herself to succumb to self-pity. “I’m going to lunch.”
“Lunch? It’s after four. You didn’t eat earlier?”
“No.” Grace didn’t add that her appetite had been nonexistent for days as the appointment with the attorney grew closer. Then, because she knew her daughter was worried, she added emphatically, “I am going to be all right, Maryellen.”
Maryellen gazed down the steep hill toward the waterfront, where boats gently bobbed in the protected waters of the cove. Vehicles cruised down Harbor Street, so close together they looked like one continuous line. The Bremerton shipyard workers were out, and traffic filled the roads as husbands and fathers hurried home to their families. The same way Dan once had.
“I’m so furious with Dad I don’t know what I’d do if I ever saw him again,” Maryellen said between gritted teeth.
Grace knew, though. She was convinced that Maryellen would be grateful, that she wouldn’t care what he’d done as long as he came home. And Kelly, their youngest, would shout with joy and tell them all how wrong they’d been. She’d run to her father with open arms, eagerly awaiting the excuse that would explain everything.
“I’m fine,” Grace insisted. “Really.”
Still Maryellen hesitated. “I hate to leave you.”
“I’ll get over this.” Although that was hardly the way she felt. But if Grace had learned anything in life, it was the importance of balance. For each loss, there were compensations, and she reminded herself to keep the good things firmly in sight. “I have so much to be grateful for. You and Kelly, and now a grandson. I’m so sorry it had to end this way with your father and me, but I’m going to come back stronger than ever.” Even as she said the words, Grace knew they were true. The sense of loss was profound, but balance would return to her life and so would joy.
It was Justine Gunderson’s lunch break, and all she wanted to do was run home and check the mail. She hadn’t heard from Seth in nearly a week. All right, five days, but each one of those days felt like a year. Her husband of little more than a month was in Alaska, fishing the crab-rich waters of the Bering Sea. Seth had warned her when she drove him to the airport that he’d be working sixteen-hour days. He’d assured her that he was crazy in love with her and would be back before she had time to miss him.
Seth had been wrong. Justine was miserable. They’d married, as the old western hit said, “in a fever,” unable to delay the wedding even one minute once they’d made the decision. Without telling either set of parents, they’d raced to Reno, gotten the license, found a preacher and afterward headed straight for a hotel room.
They were young and healthy and very much in love. Justine had known Seth nearly her entire life. He’d been her twin brother’s best friend—until Jordan drowned at age thirteen. Justine and Seth had been in the same high-school graduating class. In the ten years that followed, he’d lived in Cedar Cove but they hadn’t been in contact until recently, when they’d both reluctantly joined the committee planning their class reunion.
At the time, Justine had been dating Warren Saget, a local developer. Warren was quite a few years older than Justine; in fact, he was just a little younger than her own father. Warren liked having a beautiful woman on his arm and Justine suited him perfectly. It helped that she was willing to keep his little secret—while he might be successful in the boardroom, his powers didn’t extend to the bedroom. When they were together, she often spent the night at his plush hillside house overlooking the cove, but that was more for show than anything. She had her own bedroom in Warren’s home. Justine knew very well what people thought, but she’d never much cared.
However, her mother did. Olivia Lockhart shared the general assumptions about her arrangement with Warren and had plenty of opinions on the matter. Justine didn’t enlighten