Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection (Books 1-12 & 2 Novellas). Debbie Macomber

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      “I am serious.”

      She turned her face to him and they kissed, and he realized—as he did every day—how much he loved his wife.

      “Tell me what you know about Jon Bowman,” he said, a few minutes later as he dished up seafood fettuccine.

      “Like what?”

      “His background. Do you know anything about it?”

      Justine needed to think. “Not much. He used to sell his pictures through the gallery on Harbor Street. Why?”

      “He seemed a bit…edgy when I asked about it.”

      “Where did he go to school?”

      “He didn’t say, but I talked to two of his references. Both were managers at restaurants where he’s been employed and they sang his praises.”

      “Have you ever seen his photographs?”

      Justine moved toward the table, where Seth held out her chair. “Maryellen showed me a few of them before Christmas. They’re absolutely fabulous. You can feel the emotion and the beauty.”

      “Hmm. Maybe we should buy a few. Hang them in the entrance. What do you think?”

      “I think my brilliant husband has just had another wonderful idea.”

      They smiled at each other, fully satisfied with their lives.

      Fifteen

      Rosie had the house completely to herself. A hundred times over the years she’d yearned for a few hours alone, especially before a major holiday. Zach never understood how much work went into these family celebrations. For Easter, there was a dinner to prepare, to which they usually invited friends and other family—although things would be different this year. Then there was dyeing eggs and making up Easter baskets for the children. Although Allison and Eddie were older, Rosie felt obliged to maintain tradition.

      Now that she had the time to do all this without interruption, she found herself fighting off a sense of melancholy. The children were spending the day with their father, and it went without saying that Janice Lamond would find some reason to join them.

      Curious though she was, Rosie refused to drill the children about the other woman. Naturally she was dying to know if Janice and her son were at the apartment at the same time as her kids. But she refused to drag them into this divorce, no matter how tempting it was to learn what she could about the other woman’s activities.

      Working in the kitchen, Rosie mixed up Eddie’s favorite gelatin salad and placed it in the refrigerator to set. For Easter she always served ham but only because that was what Zach preferred. Since she no longer had to accommodate her husband’s likes and dislikes, she’d bought a prime rib roast. It was a small act of defiance, one that made her feel—just a bit—like an independent woman who made her own choices.

      She began baking her usual Easter cake.

      Her heart wasn’t in it, but she persevered for the sake of her children. With the divorce in progress, they had enough upheaval in their lives without her subjecting them to more changes. The roast was enough of a deviation from tradition for this year, but next Easter they might do something completely different, such as take a trip.

      The white bunny-shaped cake was Allison’s favorite. Using two eight-inch round cakes, she artfully cut one layer to form ears with the center section serving as a bow tie. After frosting it, she used thin threads of licorice for the whiskers and brown M&M’s for the eyes. In past years the children had helped her with the decorating.

      She missed them, despite finally having the private time she’d always craved, which confused her. She was also worried about Allison and Eddie being influenced by their father’s girlfriend. That wasn’t jealousy, she told herself; it was a reasonable reaction.

      By the time Zach dropped the children off at the house, Rosie had worked herself into a nasty temper thinking about her husband and his perfect-in-everyway office assistant. He must’ve been in a hurry to get rid of the kids, because he didn’t stay in the driveway a moment longer than necessary, she noted resentfully, peering through the living-room window. The instant the children were out of the car, he pulled away.

      “We’re home,” Eddie called as he came in the front door. He shucked off his backpack and dropped it in the entryway.

      Allison followed him, her ears covered by a headset as she listened to her CD player. She seemed to be doing that constantly, and Rosie disapproved. She wanted to know exactly what kind of music Allison was listening to, but she wasn’t up to the challenge of confronting her. She’d finally decided that if Allison needed her CDs, she could have them, at least for the moment.

      “Did you have a good time?” Rosie asked, injecting some enthusiasm into her voice.

      Eddie shrugged. “We stayed at Dad’s most of the day.”

      “What about the Easter Egg Hunt the Rotary Club held?”

      “That’s for juveniles,” Allison informed her, removing the headphones long enough to snarl a reply. She flopped down on the sofa in the family room, and Eddie headed for his Game Boy, sprawling on the carpet in front of the television.

      Okay, Rosie thought. Apparently they didn’t want to talk to her. Well, that was fine because she wasn’t in a talkative mood herself.

      Allison’s eyes were closed and her head bobbed to the beat of her music, whatever it was. After a minute or so, she lifted the headset again and looked at her mother. “What’s for dinner?”

      “Your father didn’t feed you?”

      Her daughter looked at her as if that was the stupidest question she’d ever heard. “Dad doesn’t cook.”

      “You spent the night with him. Do you mean to say he didn’t provide you with a single meal?” And this was the man who’d criticized her for not making cooked-from-scratch dinners!

      “We ate breakfast at McDonald’s.”

      “Did he take you out for every meal?” Rosie muttered.

      “Not really,” Eddie told her.

      Allison didn’t bother to answer.

      “Dad said we should eat lots of ham for him tomorrow,” Eddie said, keeping his gaze on the television screen.

      “We’re not having ham.”

      Allison’s eyes widened and she tore the headset off. “Did you say we aren’t having ham?”

      “No, I bought a roast.”

      “I hate roast,” she shouted.

      “Allison…”

      “We have ham every Easter!”

      Rosie’s heart sank. “I thought we’d have roast this year, instead.”

      Allison leaped to her feet and scowled at Rosie. “You did СКАЧАТЬ