Cedar Cove Collection (Books 1-6). Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ She didn’t seem interested in continuing with that theme. Instead, she burst out, “I just don’t understand why Eric doesn’t believe the baby is his. It’s an insult to me and to everything I stand for.”

      Olivia certainly didn’t want to take sides. According to Jack, his son was incapable of fathering children, but stranger things had happened. “Men are just dense sometimes,” she said, hoping she sounded sympathetic.

      “I very much appreciate the dinner invitation,” Shelly said, her voice gaining strength and conviction, “but I have to refuse. Eric and I are finished.”

      “Not if you’re carrying his child,” Olivia reminded her. “In that case, the relationship is far from over.”

      “It doesn’t matter. Eric doesn’t believe me, and as far as I’m concerned, the courts can deal with this. I don’t want to put a damper on your Thanksgiving—that wouldn’t be fair to you or Jack or your other guests. It was very thoughtful of Jack to want to include me, but it just won’t work.”

      Olivia didn’t feel comfortable ending the conversation just yet, now that she knew Shelly was alone in the world. “I’d like to keep in touch, Shelly, if you don’t mind?”

      “I guess that would be okay. Jack has a right to know his grandchild.”

      They hung up shortly afterward, and Olivia stood there, thinking over what had been said. The young woman had shown extraordinary wisdom in declining the invitation, in Olivia’s opinion. She could sense how badly Shelly wanted to be included in the festivities, yet she’d refused, knowing that the others would be made uncomfortable by the situation between her and Eric.

      Jack arrived promptly at seven. “Well?” he asked hopefully. “Did you talk to Shelly?”

      “I did, and she turned us down.”

      “No.” Jack groaned and ran all ten fingers through his hair in abject frustration.

      “What did Eric say?”

      “He’d come to dinner if Shelly came, but otherwise he was thinking of joining a few of his friends over in Kirkland where he works.”

      “Maybe that’s for the best,” Olivia said.

      “Not for me,” Jack cried.

      And not for them, either, Olivia supposed.

      “Damn, I was counting on better news than this.” He slumped onto her chair, then reached inside his jacket. “I’ve had this for weeks and was waiting for the right time to give it to you.” He took out a gaily wrapped package. “It’s your birthday gift.”

      She stared at him in complete astonishment.

      “Go ahead,” he urged. “Open it.”

      Olivia took the gift, sat down next to Jack and untied the ribbon.

      “I’m sorry it’s late,” he said, watching her anxiously.

      She peeled away the paper and lifted the lid of a gray velvet box. The instant she saw the diamond tennis bracelet, she let out a gasp.

      “Do you like it?” he asked.

      “Jack, I…I’m not sure what to say.”

      “I wanted you to know how important you are to me, Olivia.”

      “Oh, Jack…” She struggled to tell him how thrilled she was and then decided that words weren’t necessary. With great care she set the box aside and slipped her arms around Jack’s neck, kissing him in a way that would leave him in no doubt of her appreciation.

      Thanksgiving would be a quiet day for Grace with just Maryellen for company. The divorce had been declared final on Monday. She didn’t have to appear in court; Mark Spellman had phoned her late in the afternoon with the news that everything had gone smoothly. As of Monday afternoon, she was no longer married to Dan. All the paperwork had been signed, sealed and notarized. She was a single woman again.

      Thanksgiving morning, Grace woke early. Just as she had a year ago. But last Thanksgiving she’d bought a twenty-pound turkey. While she stuffed the bird and prepared it for roasting, Dan had bantered with her and then gone outside to cut firewood. Later, Kelly and Paul had come to dinner and Maryellen did, too. It had been a pleasant day, a family day, full of laughter and warmth.

      This year, Kelly and Paul were driving to his parents’ home, Dan was gone and the twenty-pound turkey had been replaced by a small turkey breast and a store-bought pumpkin pie.

      Grace found it impossible to contain her emotions. The house had never felt so big and empty. Sensing her mood, Buttercup stayed close to Grace as she wandered aimlessly from room to room.

      Shortly after she’d filed for divorce, Grace had cleaned out Dan’s side of the closet. Although she’d searched his clothes before, desperate for some hint as to why her husband had disappeared and where, she’d gone through each shirt and pants pocket a second and even a third time. Then she’d folded up his clothes and set them aside to donate to charity. They were neatly piled in bags and boxes, which she’d left in one of the empty bedrooms for the moment.

      The phone rang, and glancing at her watch, Grace saw that it was barely seven.

      “Hello,” she said, wondering who would phone this early.

      A burst of static answered her.

      “Hello,” she said again, more loudly this time. An uneasy feeling came over her when the line was suddenly disconnected. She hung up but kept her hand on the phone for a few seconds. How…strange. This was just the kind of stunt Dan would pull. Dear God in heaven, could it have been him?

      Was he, too, thinking about their Thanksgiving just a year ago? Perhaps he missed her; perhaps he’d read about the divorce in the paper’s legal announcements. Dear God, this was craziness! Sheer absurdity. She had to let go of Dan, she had to stop thinking about him. Her marriage was over, and she had to move on to the next stage of her life.

      Maryellen got to the house around noon. By then, Grace had the potatoes on to boil and the turkey breast was baking, browning nicely. She planned to mash the potatoes with garlic and serve broccoli and a small salad. “It smells good in here,” her daughter said as she let herself in the kitchen door.

      She set a small pot of bronze chrysanthemums in the middle of the table and kissed Grace on the cheek.

      “I made that orange-cranberry relish you like so much,” Grace said.

      “Oh, Mom, that’s great. It just wouldn’t seem like Thanksgiving without your relish.” She opened the refrigerator and peeked inside. “My goodness, how much did you make?”

      “Just what the recipe calls for.” Maryellen’s question was yet another reminder that it was only the two of them this year. “Take whatever you want home with you.”

      “Okay.” Maryellen moved restlessly around the kitchen. “Do you need me to do anything?”

      “Everything’s pretty much under control.”

      Her daughter СКАЧАТЬ