44 Cranberry Point (21 page)

“
P
eggy,” Bob shouted from the patio. “We’re going to be late.” He wasn’t that keen on attending church this morning and would’ve gladly stayed home had Peggy agreed. However, he knew better than to ask.

His wife hurried out the back door and cast him an exasperated look. “I tried to talk Hannah into coming to worship service with us, but she isn’t interested.”

As far as Bob was concerned, Hannah was the lucky one. Peggy didn’t want to hear it, though, so he attempted to console her. “Until recently, I wasn’t interested in church, either, remember?”

Peggy nodded and climbed into the passenger seat. “I don’t know what it is with the two of you.”

“The
two
of us?” For the most part, Bob avoided Hannah, which wasn’t that difficult. She worked odd hours at her dishwashing job at the Pancake Palace. She was rarely home for dinner and frankly Bob preferred it that way. He’d tried to get along with their guest. Two or three times he’d made a genuine effort to talk to her, but Hannah was like a frightened rabbit; she ran for cover the moment Bob approached.
He’d given up and settled for hoping that she’d leave soon.

Peggy frowned as she set her Bible in her lap. “Ever since Colonel Samuels phoned, both of you have been edgy and out of sorts.”

“That’s an exaggeration if I ever heard one,” he snapped.

“No, it’s not,” Peggy insisted. “Hannah’s as bad as you-worse, even. She isn’t sleeping well. I know because I hear her roaming from room to room at all hours of the night. Of course, you’re not much better.”

Bob didn’t argue; he’d been sleeping fitfully ever since the conversation with his former commanding officer. Bob couldn’t explain the reason. It remained as much a mystery to him as his attitude toward Hannah. He’d tried to like the girl, but his negative reaction to her was visceral. Instinctive. Maybe it came from some innate revulsion to cringing, fearful personalities. He hated her clinginess with Peggy and he couldn’t seem to change her aversion to him. Well, there was nothing he could do about it.

“Church would be a big help to Hannah.” Clearly Peggy hadn’t finished worrying about their guest’s refusal to attend Sunday morning services.

Bob made a noncommittal grunt. The truth was, he’d had to drag himself out of bed that morning. Just as Peggy asserted, he hadn’t been sleeping well. Little wonder. He was afraid that the moment he closed his eyes, the nightmare would return. It often struck without warning. Life would be perfectly agreeable if he could turn in for the night and have simple, pleasant dreams. Unpredictably he’d be thrust back into a Vietnamese jungle, gripped by terror. He hated every aspect of the dream. For years, he’d tried to drown out the noises of that day. The voices. Screaming. Shouting.
Crying. Alcohol had only made it worse. If anything, the voices had gotten louder.

Sobriety wasn’t helping all that much, either. The voices continued in a low drone that he ignored as much as possible. He’d been fairly successful until Maxwell Russell died in his home. Then the nightmare came back full force.

“Thank you so much,” Bob muttered under his breath, angry with his old army buddy.

“Did you say something?” Peggy asked.

Bob shook his head.

Peggy glared at him. “You’re certainly in a fine mood this morning.”

He didn’t bother to answer because she was right. And feeling the way he did, the last place he wanted to be was church.

“Bob,” Peggy cried.

“What?”

“You just missed the turnoff.”

Damn, she was right. “Let’s skip church this morning, okay?”

“Not you, too?” Peggy whined. “First Hannah and now you.”

“I don’t feel like it today.”

“We’re almost there. Please, don’t be difficult.”

Not wanting to get into an argument, Bob sighed and found a place to turn the car around and head back toward Briar Patch Road. Within five minutes, he slipped into an available space in the crowded church parking lot.

Organ music drifted out the open doors. Thankfully they were late enough to avoid all the handshaking and friendly chitchat. In case Peggy hadn’t guessed, he wasn’t in a sociable mood.

Of course, being late also meant they couldn’t get a decent
seat at the back of the church. Those who arrived early set claim to the back five pews. He and Peggy ended up sitting in one of the middle rows. That was acceptable, since at least they’d missed the “meet and greet.”

Following the music, Dave Flemming stepped up to the pulpit and opened his Bible. Bob had left his at home. Peggy flipped to the book of Matthew, chapter six, the reference listed in the bulletin she’d picked up on the way in. Bob crossed his arms and closed his eyes. He had no intention of listening. He was here to keep the peace at home and for no other reason. For all he cared, the pastor could be talking about the inflated price of dot.com shares.

Then it hit him-one word in particular.
Forgiveness.
He opened his eyes and sat up and started to listen. It was as if Pastor Flemming knew his innermost thoughts and had written the sermon specifically with him in mind. The idea unsettled him.

At the close of the service, the congregation stood and sang together. Normally Bob enjoyed the singing. He had a good baritone and at one time had considered joining the choir. His commitment to the community theater took up most of his free hours, however. It was the theater or the church choir. He’d chosen the theater.

At the end of the song, the service was over and the pews began to empty. Still deep in thought, Bob remained seated.

“I need to talk to Corrie,” Peggy announced, then got up and scurried off. Apparently she was afraid he’d argue with her and was gone before he had a chance to tell her to take her time. He had some thinking to do.

Usually Bob resented being left to twiddle his thumbs while Peggy did her socializing, but just now, he was grateful for a few moments of solitude.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, alone in the
church. Peggy would come and get him when she was ready, he figured, letting his thoughts drift where they would.

“Hello, Bob.” Pastor Flemming stepped into the pew and sat down next to him.

Bob knew Dave, liked him well enough to play golf with him every week. They hardly ever talked about God, which suited Bob just fine. To him, a man’s faith was a private matter.

“Pastor.” Bob smiled in his friend’s direction.

“Something on your mind?” the other man asked.

Bob shook his head. The pastor knew some of the story. He’d been the person who’d recommended that Bob contact Roy McAfee in the first place. He trusted Dave. At the time, he’d been desperate, half-afraid he was losing his mind.

“Well, maybe I do need to talk.” Bob paused and drew in a deep breath. “What you said about forgiveness kind of hit home, you know?”

Pastor Flemming nodded. “It’s in the Lord’s Prayer. We recite it so often we tend to forget what it means.”

Bob agreed. He’d said the prayer at every AA meeting for years, and had never truly understood the part about forgiveness. “You said this morning that we can only accept forgiveness to the extent that we’re able to forgive ourselves.” Those were the words that had struck him with such intensity.

The pastor nodded again.

“Some people require a lot of forgiveness,” Bob murmured.

“We’re all sinners.”

“But like I said,” Bob continued, “there are sins, and then there are sins. Some of us will never find forgiveness. In certain circumstances, it just isn’t possible.”

The pastor said, “In such cases, you do what you can and then you forgive yourself.”

“That isn’t possible, either,” Bob said, unable to keep the despair from his voice.

“Remember what else I said, Bob. Your willingness to forgive others is directly related to your willingness to forgive yourself.”

That wasn’t news Bob welcomed. It had never occurred to him that the two were linked.

He heard a sound at the back of the church and turned around to see that Peggy had appeared. She hesitated when she saw him talking to Pastor Flemming. “You’ve certainly given me something to think about,” Bob mumbled, eager now to escape.

The only way he could figure this out was by himself. He had to stop resisting the memories. Maybe then he could lay them to rest.

O
n the last Saturday morning in August, Grace was scheduled to work the animal shelter’s booth at the Farmers’ Market. On her last stint there, she’d netted Sherlock, who was the remaining kitten in the litter and the only one left without a home. The whole day, she’d had the feeling she’d end up with one of the six kittens that had been placed for adoption. Sure enough, she’d come home with eight-week-old Sherlock.

She always enjoyed the market, especially on days like this-bright and sunny yet not really hot. In the rainy months of winter, she often found it hard to remember how lovely summers could be in the Pacific Northwest.

Today, as usual, the market teemed with activity. The variety of products sold there always impressed her-everything from fresh oysters, plucked only hours earlier from the beach, to knitted afghans.

Grace had her hands full with the animal shelter booth. She’d left Buttercup at home; she was too busy to watch the dog and, besides, Sherlock would keep her company. All morning long, Grace answered questions and talked to the
children who crowded around, instantly attracted to the kittens. She had ten this Saturday, plus several mature cats, and hoped to arrange adoptions for at least half.

Grace was grateful she was busy, which helped keep her mind off the fact that Will Jefferson was in town. Olivia had phoned shortly after Will’s arrival to let her know. He’d tried to call her once, but she had Caller ID, and when she saw Charlotte’s name, she let the answering machine pick up. Sure enough, it was Will. Grace feared Charlotte might inadvertently mention that she did volunteer work with the shelter and would be at the market this weekend.

Just when she finally felt she was safe, Grace glanced up and nearly swallowed her tongue. Standing a few feet away from her was Will Jefferson, the man she least wanted to see. Her heart seemed ready to implode. For one crazy moment, all she could do was stare. When her senses returned, she looked sharply away.

Unfortunately, all the children who’d gathered to admire the kittens had drifted off. It was apparently the opportunity Will had been waiting for. He walked toward her, his steps determined and his gaze focused relentlessly on her. He’d always been handsome, and his attractiveness, combined with her schoolgirl fantasies, had blinded her. But Grace wasn’t the same woman she’d been a few months ago.

She squared her shoulders, decided there was no avoiding a confrontation, and scooped up a kitten. The heat of embarrassment reddened her face until she realized she had nothing to be embarrassed about. She wasn’t entirely blameless, but Will was the one who’d lied.

“Hello, Grace.” His greeting was as soft as a caress.

“Hello, Will.” It demanded all her strength to keep her voice even and unemotional.

Grace knew his presence would make her uncomfortable at the wedding unless they cleared the air. She suddenly wondered if Will had sought her out because he wanted to apologize. Like her, he understood that they’d both be at Charlotte and Ben’s wedding. They’d have to make peace-even a superficial peace-or the whole event would be too awkward, not just for themselves but their families and friends.

Grace needed to let him know two things: that she was willing to put the matter behind them and that she wanted nothing more to do with him. For Charlotte and Ben’s sake, she’d be civil.

“You look wonderful,” Will said smoothly.

A sick sensation hit her directly in the stomach. She held the kitten draped over her arm and close to her side, as if for protection. “Olivia told me you were coming for the wedding.”

“Yeah, I figured she would.” He slid his hands in his pockets and struck a casual pose. “I’ll be here for several days.” He let that information fall, apparently expecting a response. “I hoped we could get together.”

“Get together?” She couldn’t have heard him correctly. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting they see each other socially.

“Mom and I are going to dinner tonight, but I’m free on Sunday.”

“You’re asking me to have dinner with you?” The man’s audacity was unbelievable. “You can’t be serious, Will. You lied to me!”

“You’re right, that was unfair, but I’ve always been fond of you, Grace. I’m here-”

“Where’s Georgia?”

He didn’t even blink at the mention of his wife. “Home. We each have our own lives.”

“I’ll bet you do.” Grace couldn’t disguise her sarcasm. She wondered if Georgia knew she was supposed to have her own life. And how about their cruise? Did they have separate lives there-and separate rooms? Not that any of it mattered.

“I arranged my flight to come in early so you and I could talk. Do you realize what you did? You didn’t give me a single chance to explain. You cut me off without listening to a word I had to say.”

“Are you or are you not married?”

He sighed heavily. “Married, but this is important, Grace, for both of us.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have anything to say to you, other than that I don’t care to see you or speak to you ever again.”

He frowned as if saddened by her lack of understanding. “We both know you don’t mean that. You
can’t
mean it after everything we’ve been to each other.” He took a step closer. “I’ve missed you, Grace. These last few months have been hell without you. Don’t you feel that, too?”

She was careful not to answer him. “I’m grateful for the lessons you taught me,” she said instead.

He nodded impatiently.

“The thing is, I came so close to-”

“You love me, Grace,” he interrupted. “You did when you were in high school and you do now.”

“I was a teenager then and I’m a woman now. I’m glad to say I occasionally learn from my mistakes.”

“We’re not a mistake,” he said urgently. “Don’t you see that what we had was special?”

He was good; she’d give him that. “What we had was a very big mistake. If you arrived early for the wedding because you wanted to see me, then I’m afraid you’re in for a major disappointment. If I never see you again, I’ll be a happy woman.”

He shook his head firmly. “You can’t mean that,” he said with the same intensity as before.

“I mean every word. Now please…please leave me alone.”

He frowned and turned away, but took only a few steps before he turned back. “I’m staying with my mother, so if you change your mind…”

“I’m not going to. Please don’t contact me again.”

He smiled-a smile obviously calculated to melt her stony heart. “I refuse to believe you’re serious. Okay, you have a right to be angry, but I can’t divorce Georgia. It would devastate her. But if that’s the only way I can have you, then-”

Grace raised her hand to stop him. She’d heard enough, more than enough. “Go. Just go.”

He frowned again, like a petulant child, but finally left. All of a sudden Grace started to shake. Her knees felt like they were about to give way and she sank into the folding chair in the animal shelter booth. Gently stroking the kitten on her lap, she closed her eyes and took in several calming breaths.

“Grace.”

She opened her eyes to find Cliff standing there. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” she lied. She’d hoped he’d come here today, wished for just this moment, but not immediately after a confrontation with Will.

“No, you’re not fine,” he said bluntly. “That was Will Jefferson, wasn’t it?”

So Cliff had seen her talking to Will. Her first thought was to defend herself, to explain that she wanted nothing more to do with Olivia’s brother. Instead, huge tears filled her eyes and trailed down her cheeks.

“You cared about him, didn’t you?”

“No,” she cried, and knew that was a lie. “Yes…fool that I was. I did care at one time, but not anymore. Oh, Cliff,
don’t you know? It’s you I love. I can’t give up on the two of us. I tried to and I’d almost succeeded but then Lisa-”

“You spoke to Lisa?”

Grace winced; she was only making matters worse.

“You and Lisa talked?” he repeated.

Grace nodded, swallowing hard. “She came to see me at the library, and I’m so grateful she did.”

“What did she say?”

Grace stared down at the sleeping kitten in her lap. “She said you loved me, too.”

He dropped into a crouch so they were at eye-level and tucked his finger beneath her chin. “That was when you started this e-mail campaign, wasn’t it?”

She nodded again. She wondered if her barrage of messages had succeeded. This was the first time they’d actually talked face-to-face, and she wanted to throw her arms around his neck. Well, except for the kitten, of course…

Cliff held her gaze for the longest moment before looking away.

“Did it work?” she whispered.

At first she didn’t think he was going to answer, but then he gave her a lightning-quick smile. “You’re a difficult woman to ignore.”

“I am?” Her heart was jumping inside her chest. “Really?”

“Before I knew it, I was hurrying to the mailbox every day and logging on to my computer, hoping there’d be a note from you.”

The Internet was part of what had gotten her into this mess. It was only fitting that it should be a means of getting back what she’d lost.

“Are you willing to give me another chance?” she asked, holding her breath for fear of what he might say.

“We can begin slowly.”

She bit her lower lip. “Thank you.”

Cliff wiped the tears from her cheeks. “How about if we have a cup of coffee and talk once you’re finished here?”

Grace nodded, so happy she was afraid she’d start crying again. Maybe they could attend Charlotte’s wedding together. She hardly dared hope…