worry about it,” she said, glancing down at the envelope, which bore the rental agency’s logo.
“You might want to read it right away,” he cautioned.
“Something wrong?” Cliff wanted to know.
“Yeah.” Cal grimaced. “Apparently the check your renters gave them bounced.”
“Again?” Cliff said. “Last month’s was returned too.”
Grace sighed. This was more bad news she’d rather not deal with. Letting those ne’er-do-wells rent her home had been a big mistake, and she had no one to blame but herself.
Thirty
Teri pored over a new cookbook on Sunday afternoon, searching for a recipe that would entice Bobby to eat. His appetite hadn’t been good since he’d learned she was pregnant. Hers, on the other hand, couldn’t have been better. Her morning—or rather, afternoon—sickness wasn’t nearly as bad now; she only occasionally came down with a bout of queasiness. Bobby’s appetite, however, had almost completely vanished.
Then, to complicate life even more, her husband had discovered the joys of televised marketing. If there was the slightest hint that a particular product might be appropriate for a baby, Bobby ordered it. They often received two and three shipments a day.
So far, Bobby had purchased three cribs, five bassinets and enough toys to fill a day care center. The last thing that was delivered, and it came in a huge truck, was an entire gym set. While she loved him for it, this had to stop.
“You’re reading a cookbook,” Bobby said as he wandered into the kitchen.
She nodded without looking up. She’d already put Post– It notes on several of the pages, designating recipes she’d like to try. Although she hadn’t made her final decision, she’d started a grocery list. “Some cookbooks are more entertaining than novels.”
Bobby was supposed to chuckle or comment or something. He didn’t.
“What’s this?” he asked next, pointing to the sheet of paper on the table.
“That’s a list of what I need to pick up at the grocery store.”
“Send James,” her husband ordered.
“I’d like to go.” Teri braced herself for the discussion that would inevitably follow.
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Why?” Teri didn’t want to bicker. In fact, she hated it when they argued. Bobby didn’t understand that she was a social person and staying in the house, beautiful though it was, simply wasn’t enough for her. She needed to see people, interact with others. All weekend she’d done nothing but watch TV shows and DVDs. Oh, and she’d reorganized her dresser drawers.
“I don’t want you …” Bobby hesitated. Pulling out a chair, he sat down beside her. “I need to know you’ll be safe. I’ll come with you, okay?”
“Bobby, of course I’ll be safe. And I know you hate going to the grocery store. This is Cedar Cove, not some huge, scary city, so nothing’s going to happen to me. But if it makes you feel better, James can tag along.” Although she doubted he’d be much protection. Bobby, however, seemed to think his driver possessed skills that rivaled those of Agent 007. Still, if it brought him peace of mind, she was willing to put up with James trailing behind her.
His gaze held hers and after a moment, he gave her a half smile. “Thank you.”
“I’d like to invite Christie over. You don’t mind, do you?”
“For you or for James?” he teased.
“For both of us. And I’ll ask her to go to the store with me, too.” She considered that a satisfactory compromise. James was clearly besotted with Christie, and Teri’s sister … well, that had yet to be determined. Teri suspected her sister was attracted to him, only she wasn’t sure she wanted to be.
“I thought I’d make spaghetti.”
Bobby looked pleased. “The kind with clams?”
“Whatever version you like best,” she said.
“Clams.”
This was the first time in more than a week that Bobby had shown any interest in a meal, which was a relief. When she phoned, Christie seemed glad to hear from her and promptly accepted her dinner invitation.
“I’m going out grocery shopping. Want to come?” Teri asked.
“Why not,” Christie said.
An hour later, when James eased the limo into the apartment parking lot, Christie was already waiting outside. She allowed James to open her car door.
“Good afternoon,” he greeted her formally.
“James.” She inclined her head in a regal nod.
This was progress, Teri mused. Christie didn’t even sound sarcastic. It seemed to take her an inordinate amount of time to slip into the seat and when she did, she held a long-stemmed rose. The color of the flower matched the flush in her cheeks.
“I’m glad you’re coming with me,” Teri told her. She made a point of not remarking on the flower.
“I am, too.”
Teri noticed that Christie met James’s gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“James,” Teri said, sliding closer to her sister. “Christie asked me an interesting question a little while ago. What do you do with your time when Bobby doesn’t require a driver?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
“You don’t have to say if you’d rather not,” Teri assured him. She didn’t want to embarrass James.
“He should account for his time,” Christie said. “He’s being paid for all those hours, isn’t he?”
James headed into traffic and, after another short pause, said, “I read.”
This was news to Teri, but she supposed it made sense.
“What do you read?” Christie asked.
“Everything. Contemporary novels, classics, all kinds of non-fiction.”
Teri was impressed by this and suspected her sister was, too.
When they got to the house, Christie helped Teri make dinner, amid much laughter and the occasional small confidence. Bobby came into the kitchen a few times to see what all the merriment was about; he even joined in once or twice.
Dinner was delicious—and fun—and although Teri had invited James, he’d declined. When she and Christie had put away the leftovers and finished with the dishes, the phone rang. Call display indicated that it was Rachel. As she picked up the receiver, Teri saw her sister slip outside, probably for a cigarette.
Now
