It was a crying shame, all right, Linnette mused. But the only one she felt sorry for was herself. She didn’t want Cal to leave Cedar Cove, but it almost seemed as if he couldn’t get away fast enough.
Thirteen
The Monday after Easter, Maryellen woke in good spirits—despite another night on the sofa. She missed sleeping with her husband, missed the intimacy they’d shared. Once this baby was born, she vowed she’d never sleep on a sofa again as long as she lived.
Easter Sunday had been wonderful. When church services were over, Joseph and Ellen had taken Katie to a community Easter egg hunt. Katie had gleefully collected a basketful of colorful plastic eggs. She’d proudly showed her treasures to Maryellen and then later Jon. Her husband had conveniently disappeared when the Bowmans returned with Katie.
Katie had needed a week or so to become accustomed to Jon’s parents, but by then her daughter realized she had these two people completely wrapped around her little finger. Joseph and Ellen lavished their granddaughter with attention and love. Katie was thriving, and Maryellen would be forever grateful for their presence.
The Bowmans’ arrival had gone a long way toward bringing Maryellen peace during this complicated pregnancy. Her mother and Cliff helped as much as they could, and had decided to delay their wedding reception until after the baby’s birth. Grace visited at least three times a week and brought Maryellen library books to keep her entertained.
Charlotte and several ladies from the Senior Center had been out, too. Charlotte had taught Maryellen how to knit and she’d caught on quickly. Under Charlotte’s tutelage, she’d started a baby blanket. However, none of these distractions was enough to keep Maryellen’s mind off the financial difficulties caused by her unemployment. Jon couldn’t work and take care of both Katie and her. Now, at least, he was able to spend the days taking photographs and had sold a few to the Chronicle and other area papers, as well as providing prints to the galleries that carried his work. He’d even applied for a few jobs, which had come to nothing.
Joseph and Ellen’s presence had made a difference that was as profound as that between night and day. Jon couldn’t deny that their generosity had changed everything; still, he avoided all contact with his parents. He left in the morning and called every night before he got home. His call was the signal that his parents should leave.
Maryellen was distressed that he could be so coldhearted toward his family. Distressed and scared, too. If he could so completely turn off his love for them, then he might be capable of doing the same to her and to their daughter.
She knew very well that the only reason Jon had allowed his family into his life was for her sake and Katie’s.
He refused to acknowledge their help or show them any appreciation. Joseph and Ellen had remained respectful of his wishes. The minute he notified Maryellen that he was on his way home, they packed up and left. The fact that dinner was waiting for him on his return was never mentioned or credited to his parents. As much as possible, he ignored their very existence. Maryellen felt dreadful for his father and stepmother.
When she heard Jon tiptoe down the stairs in the early dawn, Maryellen smiled. Their time alone on Easter Sunday had been special and she refused to ruin today with any unpleasantness.
“You awake?” he whispered.
She nodded and held out her arms to him. Jon joined her on the sofa, lying beside her. He placed his hands on her growing abdomen. They giggled and cuddled close.
“After this baby’s born, I’m never sleeping without you again,” he said, spreading warm kisses on her throat until he reached her lips for a series of deep, probing kisses. Groaning, he tore his mouth from hers and buried it in the hollow of her neck. After a moment, he whispered, “I miss you sleeping with me.”
“I miss you, too.” His body was so familiar to her and so beloved. She reveled in the feel of him pressed against her. Had their circumstances been different, they would’ve made love. It wouldn’t be long before all of this was over, Maryellen reminded herself. She had to repeat that thought frequently throughout the day—and night.
“Katie’s still asleep,” Jon told her.
“She had a busy day yesterday. Oh, Jon, I can’t tell you how good Ellen is with her.”
Her husband went rigid, just as he always did whenever she mentioned his parents.
Maryellen rubbed his back. “Did you see the giant Easter basket they bought her? It’s got a plush bunny and—”
“I don’t want them spoiling her rotten.”
“Sweetheart, that’s what grandparents do.” She paused. “They love her so much,” she murmured.
Without a word, Jon slipped off the sofa and went into the adjacent kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She watched him grind beans, then add water.
“I knew this would happen,” he said to her from the doorway a moment later, his voice ringing with resentment.
“What?” she asked, sitting upright now. “You’re afraid I’ll refer to your parents in casual conversation? That’s what you fear? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”
“The minute they got here, you were championing their cause. It’s not going to work, Maryellen. I told you that before and I’m telling you again now. Nothing’s changed between them and me. Not one damn thing.”
She flinched at the harshness of his words. “But, Jon—”
“I will not talk about it anymore. I let them come because you wanted it, and for no other reason.”
“They’ve been a tremendous help. How can you deny what your parents have done for us? Jon, they left their home. They’re staying at one of those hotels off the highway, and all because they want to be near us during this time. The least we can do is show some appreciation.”
“They didn’t help me,” he said with unrestrained anger. “Instead, they lied. They should count their blessings that I didn’t get them charged with perjury. Then they would’ve gone to prison like I did.”
Maryellen forced herself to remain calm. “Yes, they did lie, and because of it you went through hell. They paid the price for that, Jon, and they paid dearly.”
“No, Maryellen,” her husband said, “I’m the one who paid. I was the one behind bars. Do you know how I got through those years? Do you really want to know? By hating them. I swore I’d never have anything to do with either of them again.”
It pained her to hear the bitterness in his voice. Jon was a passionate man, who felt everything deeply. Anyone who studied his photography could see that, could sense his emotion.
A picture as simple as an empty rowboat tied up at a dock was sharply evocative. One reviewer had said that the abandoned rowboat was an object that had its own integrity and yet also symbolized lost dreams. Maryellen loved that review, and she’d clipped it and kept it in a special file. She agreed with every word. Years ago, she’d fallen in love with his art, long before she even knew the man.
So, it was no surprise that Jon’s emotions, both positive and negative, had such potency. His hatred for his parents was uncompromising. He loved with this same intensity. Maryellen could never doubt the depth of his feelings for her and their children. He’d sacrificed for her; he’d even been willing to give up this land, and the home he’d built with his own hands, for her and for Katie and the new baby.
The silence between them seemed to throb like a fresh wound. The only sound was that of the coffeemaker gurgling. Jon returned to the kitchen to pour himself a mug and heat water for decaffeinated herbal tea in the microwave.
“Thank you,” she said when he brought her the tea.
He sat down across from her. “I don’t want to argue, Maryellen.”
“Me, neither.” She offered him a sad smile.
“I love you,” he said. “I won’t allow my parents to come between us. I can’t. They took everything else away from me, and I won’t let them steal you and Katie, too.”
She sipped her tea and tried to see the situation from his point of view. “I was just thinking how u
nusual this is. It’s the reverse of what normally happens, where the wife doesn’t get along with her in-laws.”
Nodding, Jon cupped the mug. “I like my in-laws just fine,” he said. “It’s my own family I don’t care for.” He checked his watch and stood, ending their conversation. “I need to get ready for an interview.”
The comment caught her off guard. Jon hadn’t said anything about applying for another job. He took photographs that sold in galleries, and she hoped to begin managing his career later this year, finding ways to give him more exposure and license his work. Maryellen had been reading about it on the Internet, using a laptop computer Cliff had lent her.
“An interview?” she echoed. “You didn’t say anything about that.”
“It’s nothing great,” he said as he headed up the stairs.
“But…you always tell me when you’re going to a job interview.” A couple of opportunities had come his way recently, neither of which had panned out. Jon had talked to her at length before and after each interview. One had been for a construction job with Warren Saget’s company. However, Jon had discovered that Warren used shortcuts and inferior materials. He was currently building an apartment complex and rumor had it that there were already major problems on the site. Although he possessed excellent carpentry skills and would gladly have taken on a construction project, Jon and Maryellen had agreed that, for ethical reasons, he shouldn’t work for Warren Saget. Seth Gunderson wanted him back at the new—as yet unbuilt—Lighthouse, but Jon couldn’t wait that long. He’d applied for some restaurant jobs, too.
“I’m sure I mentioned this,” Jon threw over his shoulder as he dashed up the stairs to their bedroom.
No, he hadn’t; Maryellen would’ve remembered it. She had the unpleasant sensation that he was hiding something from her. Only, she couldn’t imagine what it would be, or why. When he came down the stairs, dressed and freshly shaved, Maryellen was ready. She’d slowly made her way to the kitchen, where she sat at the table.
“Tell me about this interview,” she said as he popped a slice of bread in the toaster. He placed a bowl with instant oatmeal in the microwave and sliced a banana for her breakfast.
He glanced up. “It’s nothing special,” he countered.
“Is it a cooking job?”
“No,” he said curtly.
“Apparently it’s something you don’t want to tell me about. Something you’d rather not mention.” She shook her head. “You’ve never kept secrets from me before,” she said softly, unable to disguise the hurt. “Please don’t start now.”
He released a pent-up sigh. “All right, if you must know. The interview’s with a portrait studio in Tacoma.”
“But, Jon, that’s great!” It was probably a waste of his talent, but she wasn’t going to say that.
“I’ll be photographing schoolchildren and…”
Maryellen swallowed hard and struggled to hide her dismay. This was so far beneath Jon’s abilities. It would stifle his creativity, kill his passion for photography. No wonder he’d been reluctant to tell her about this interview.
An involuntary sob escaped and she covered her face with both hands.
“Maryellen, don’t.” He came to kneel in front of her. “Honey, it’s the only thing available. It’ll pay the bills, even if it doesn’t provide any benefits.” He wrapped his arms around her.
“You’ll hate it.” He was willing to waste his considerable talent at this menial job, and all because of her.
Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I’ve had worse jobs. This won’t be for long, I promise you. I won’t be home much, but—”
“You want it that way. You want out of the house because…because you can’t stand the thought of your parents being here, and that’s my fault, too. Sometimes I think this baby’s going to destroy us.”
“Don’t,” he warned gently. “Maryellen, you can’t think like that. This baby is a gift.”
“I can’t let you do this. Jon, please. I just can’t bear it.”
“Sweetheart, don’t.” He took her face between his hands and kissed her again and again. “I love you. I’m doing this for us. As soon as the baby’s born, everything will be different. I promise.”
“Oh, Jon.”
“It’s all right,” he said soothingly. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
Maryellen so badly wanted to believe him. She smiled absently as he brought her breakfast to the table, although she could barely eat.
Jon left shortly afterward, and Maryellen tried hard to conceal her feelings when Ellen and Joseph came in. Ellen immediately went upstairs to get Katie dressed, while Joseph washed the few soiled dishes and straightened the books that were scattered around the living room.
Midmorning, he took Katie outside for a walk in the sunshine, and Ellen brought Maryellen a cup of decaffeinated tea with plenty of milk. “I thought I’d make a chicken pot pie for dinner this evening,” she said. “It used to be one of Jon’s favorites.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Maryellen said, but she had to wonder if Jon would even notice.
Fourteen
Justine was grateful to hear from her mother and even happier to see her. Late Wednesday afternoon they met for tea at 16 Lighthouse Road, the house where she’d grown up and where Olivia still lived. In a sense, Justine would always think of it as home. Leif had a play date with a friend from his preschool, and it was good to be with Olivia, just the two of them.
“Jack’s out doing an interview with Pastor Flemming about the church’s work with hurricane relief,” her mother explained as she carried the teapot and a plate of oatmeal cookies to the kitchen table.
This was Olivia’s way of telling her that the timing of this visit was intentional—a chance for the two of them to be alone. Only a few years ago Justine couldn’t have imagined sharing her troubles with her mother. They’d rarely talked or discussed anything of importance. Now it seemed only natural to do so.
“What do you want to talk about?” Justine asked. If her mother had purposely arranged this time to make sure they weren’t interrupted, then there had to be a reason.
Olivia glanced up from pouring the tea into china cups. “I guess I wasn’t very subtle, was I?”
“It’s all right, Mom. I’m your daughter—you don’t need to be subtle with me.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you’re doing first?” Olivia set the teapot in the center of the table, then took her seat.
Justine reached for her cup and added a teaspoon of sugar, making lazy circles with her spoon. “I’ve decided to go back to work part-time for First National Bank.” She said this casually, as if it were a small thing. It wasn’t. “I’ll be out of the house for part of every day.” She was silent for a moment, wondering whether to talk about the underlying reason. “Getting away from Seth helps me deal with all the stress,” she admitted. She had to either spend time away from her husband for a few hours every day, while Leif was in preschool, or slowly go insane. She was relieved that Seth had talked to Larry Boone about taking the job at the boatyard but as yet nothing had come of it. She didn’t know if the hesitation was due to Seth or the other man. Seth was so volatile that Justine hadn’t asked for fear of causing problems.
These last few weeks, living with Seth had felt like being trapped. His thoughts and all his efforts seemed to be focussed on finding the arsonist. Despite their brief attempt at resolving the tension between them, Seth was as driven as ever. The fire had consumed far more than the building that had housed their restaurant; it had consumed her husband, too. This angry, unreasonable person wasn’t the man she’d married and Justine felt she no longer knew him.
“How does Seth feel about your taking this job?” her mother asked.
The sugar had dissolved but Justine continued her gentle stirring. “I…haven’t told him yet, but I don’t think he’ll care one way or the other.” She doubted he’d even realize she was gone.
“Oh, Justine.” Her mothe
r read the pain in her response. She leaned across the table and laid one hand over hers.
“The funny part is, I forgot to pick up my birth control prescription at the drugstore the other day and then I thought, why bother? Seth hasn’t even come near me since the fire.”
“He’s upset.”
Seth was more than upset, and making love couldn’t compete with his need to be angry. Every bit of tenderness in him seemed to be gone. All that remained was his sense of unfairness and rage.
“To say he’s upset doesn’t even begin to cover it, Mom. Seth is impatient and edgy and determined to find out who started the fire. It’s become an obsession. He wants me to be angry, too, and he can’t understand why I’m not.”
Olivia sipped her tea and sat back. “You’re angry about this,” she murmured. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course I am. But I want to let it go. I’m trying to. I’m choosing to look at this the way I would any other traumatic event. We need to move on.”
“And Seth’s not ready to do that?”
“No. And my lack of righteous anger complicates the issue,” Justine went on, a bit wryly. She’d given up reasoning with Seth. Any sort of acceptance on her part, or desire to advance to something new, only angered him further.
“He spoke to Jack recently,” her mother said thoughtfully.
This was news to Justine, but then she knew little of what Seth did these days.
“He approached Jack about putting a picture of that pewter cross in the paper. Apparently that was Roy’s idea. He and Seth think someone might recognize it and give the sheriff a lead. At this point, the investigation’s stalled.”
“Is Jack going to do it?”
Her mother selected a cookie from the plate. “I believe he said he’d talk to the sheriff first and see if that would help or hinder the investigation.”
Since Seth rather than the sheriff had spoken to Jack, Justine assumed that Troy Davis was reluctant to release this information. Most likely, Seth had gone behind the sheriff’s back in an attempt to keep the investigation alive.
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