Love Letters: A Rose Harbor Novel (22 page)

I had to agree it wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had, and while I didn’t appreciate the lecture, I had to admit I was glad to see him.

He mumbled something under his breath, and it was probably best I didn’t ask him to repeat himself. As soon as he reached me he took the oil painting out of my hands. Together, we started to his house.

“Thanks,” I murmured, feeling a bit sheepish for being so foolish.

“I assumed you’d be delivering it by car until I remembered you saying something about walking Rover.”

So that was what caused him to meet me. He’d gone far more than halfway.

“Aren’t you even going to look at it?” I asked. In the light of day, the picture was lovelier than I’d realized. The sun, the sand, the waves crashing against the shoreline, with seagulls flying against the backdrop of a robin’s-egg-blue sky.

“I already did.”

Sometimes getting him to communicate was like attempting to milk a billy goat. “And what did you think?”

“It’s okay.”

As he did with the cookies and muffins, he made it sound like he was helping me out by taking this lovely picture off my hands. The man really did perturb me at times.

“Where are you going to hang it?” I asked next, half skipping in order to keep up with him. Rover loved the quicker pace and trotted along with his head held high, as if he knew exactly where we were going.

“Don’t know yet,” Mark answered.

“Would you like a suggestion?”

He laughed softly. “I have the feeling you’re about to give it to me whether I want it or not.”

“True.” His living room wall would be perfect, and I told him as much.

“Why there?”

“You need something to say ‘This is a home.’ Your house looks like the Sierra Desert.”

He didn’t bother to disguise his amusement. “You’re joking, right?”

“No.” I was completely serious, and I let it show.

“I suppose you’re about to suggest I hire a decorator next.”

“No. But this is your home, Mark. It should at least feel like one instead of a …”

“I don’t need stuff.”

“I agree.”

“Stuff holds down a person.”

“Are you planning on moving anytime soon?” I asked, and instantly felt a sense of loss. If Mark decided to leave Cedar Cove, I’d miss him. As much as he irritated and frustrated me, I would miss him. Over the summer, especially since he’d broken his leg, I’d come to rely on Mark’s friendship. I’d lived alone the majority of my adult life and wasn’t accustomed to depending on anyone, but I’d come to depend on Mark, and the realization shook me.

“I won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

I was glad to hear it. “But you will move on?”

“Probably. I generally get bored with a town after a while.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know that about him.

He stopped walking and gave me an odd look. “You okay?”

“Of course.” I immediately brushed off his question.

“You got a funny look just then. I’ve sort of gotten to think of Cedar Cove as a good place to settle down for a while, though.”

I grinned. “Me, too.”

We didn’t talk the rest of the way to his house. Mark led me through the kitchen door, which he apparently kept unlocked. I followed him into the main area of the house, which looked almost identical to the way it had the last time I saw it. He had a sofa, a recliner, an end table, and a television, and that was it.

“I take it Peter McConnell is back in his house again.”

“Yes. Good thing, too, because I’d had about as much of him as I could take.”

I couldn’t keep from smiling.

“That amuses you?”

“No. You do.”

“Very funny.”

With my hands on my hips I appraised the bare walls, but really there wasn’t any question where it belonged. The wall on the opposite side of the television was perfect.

“What do you think?” Mark asked.

“There,” I said, pointing to where I felt the picture was best suited.

He shrugged, and if he agreed or disagreed I couldn’t guess.

“Do you want me to help you hang it?” I asked.

“You mean now?” He made it sound like an unreasonable demand.

“Yes,” I insisted. “Otherwise, you’ll put it off for another six months or longer.” I could easily see it leaning against the wall at Christmas, exactly where it was now.

“I guess.” He disappeared and I heard the back screen slam
closed. A good five minutes passed before he returned with a hammer and a couple nails.

Within a matter of minutes he had the painting hung, and I had to admit it was perfect.

“Well,” I said, stepping back to admire it. “It looks really good, don’t you think?”

He shrugged.

“Oh come on, Mark, admit it. The painting adds ambiance to this place.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right. It’s a nice touch.”

It surprised me that he was willing to admit it.

“I appreciate it, Jo Marie.”

I was even more surprised when he thanked me. I must have done a double take, because he took one look at me and started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You.” He grinned and seemed to struggle not to break out in laughter a second time. “You should have seen the look that came over you just now.” He scrunched up his own face, mocking me.

“Very funny.”

“I suppose you’re going to demand that I pay the piper,” he said, growing serious all of a sudden.

“Pay the piper?”

“You want me to meet your family on Sunday.”

I hoped he would, but if not, I’d accept that, too. “Not this time,” I said. “You’ll meet my family sooner or later.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he wasn’t sure he believed me. “You’re a rare woman, Jo Marie. Sometimes I wonder if I appreciate you near enough.”

The Bremerton ferry docked on the Seattle waterfront and Roy followed the line of cars that motored off the boat. Within a matter of minutes he located a parking lot only a few blocks away from the dock.

The secret of what Maggie had discovered weighed on her like the heaviest of yokes. She didn’t know how she was going to get through the day, let alone the rest of this getaway weekend. The next eight months seemed like an eternity.

He paid for the parking with his credit card, set the slip on his dashboard, and then reached for her hand. It’d been a long time since they’d held hands. Instinctively, Maggie knew he wouldn’t be nearly this caring or loving when he discovered she was pregnant.

“Where shall we head first?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, and smiled at him, hoping he wasn’t paying too close attention to her. Her mouth trembled slightly with the effort to appear happy and carefree. “What interests you?”

“Let’s visit the market,” he suggested.

“Sure.” Pike Place Market was a staple for anyone visiting Seattle, right along with the Space Needle, the monorail, the waterfront, and the aquarium.

“I hope we get to see one of the fishmongers toss a salmon,” Roy said, and gently squeezed her hand.

They made the climb up the steps leading from the waterfront to First Avenue, stopping now and again at vendor stalls along the Hill Climb. The market was a mixture of fresh fish, garden-ripened vegetables, myriad floral bouquets, figurines made from ash from the volcanic eruption of Mount Saint Helens, and just about everything else. Roy purchased a jar of honey, and Maggie found a photo of the Space Needle in the middle of an electric storm. The camera captured a bolt of lightning just as it struck the Needle. She was instantly drawn to it because that was how she felt, as if she, too, had been struck. But like the Space Needle, she would withstand this lightning bolt.

The original Starbucks was directly across the street from the market, so they stopped in for a latte, decaf for her, and picked up a pound of cheese from a local cheesemaker, along with a loaf of bread and fresh green grapes.

“We’ll feast later,” Roy promised.

Once they’d deposited their goods in the car, Roy said, “Okay, what next?”

With her mind in turmoil, Maggie couldn’t think of a single thing to do. “I … I don’t know.”

“There’s so much to choose from,” Roy said, and looped his arm around her shoulders. “Would you like to have lunch at the Space Needle?”

“Do you think we could get a table without a reservation?” Notwithstanding
the very real possibility she wouldn’t be able to hold food in her stomach.

“Good point.” Roy turned toward the waterfront.

The day was amazing. The sun was out, and the area was alive with activity. A boat pulled a parasailer, with a parachute the colors of the American flag. Sailboats sliced through the green waters of Puget Sound. White-and-green ferries hauled cars and passengers to a number of islands that dotted the Sound. A Ferris wheel was a recent addition, and the line of tourists waiting for a ride was amazingly long.

“What about a tour of Underground Seattle?” Roy suggested.

“Seattle has an underground?”

Roy nodded. “I read a brochure about it on the ferry. Apparently, Seattle had a large fire in 1890 and most of the buildings in town burned to the ground. When the city was rebuilt, the local government decided to elevate the waterfront area by one floor because of flooding problems with the change in tides.”

Maggie vaguely remembered reading about the Seattle fire years ago in her Washington State history class. “And there are underground tours now?”

“That’s what the brochure said.”

Still, Maggie wasn’t sure. “Is there anything to see … I mean, if the city burned down, what was left?”

“I can’t say, but I think it might be worth checking into, don’t you?”

“Sure, if that’s what you’d like to do,” she said, but at this point she was willing to agree to anything in order to keep her husband’s mind occupied. Roy could so easily read her that it wouldn’t take much for him to realize that something was terribly wrong.

Her husband pulled the brochure from his hip pocket and opened it across the hood of their vehicle for her to read. “It says here that we purchase the tickets in Pioneer Square.” The brochure also listed the times of the tours.

Roy checked his watch. “We’ll have plenty of time. It’ll be fun just to walk around a bit and explore the city.”

“It will,” Maggie agreed.

They headed in the direction of Pioneer Square. Roy was in a talkative mood. Maggie did her best to pay attention, but her mind drifted to what she was going to do about this pregnancy. Sooner or later, she’d need to tell Roy. But when? If she held off as long as she could, she feared he’d think of it as an even greater betrayal. If she let him know right away, it would ruin this newfound communication and recommitment to each other. After weeks of this horrible tension between them, Maggie yearned to hold on to his love and goodwill for as long as possible.

“… What do you think?” Roy asked.

The first part of what her husband said was completely lost on her. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“My goodness, Maggie, you seem preoccupied. Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine. Wonderful.” She pasted on another big smile.

“You’re not feeling sick again, are you?”

“Not in the least.”

“Good.” His leaned over and kissed her.

Pioneer Square wasn’t nearly as busy as the market or the waterfront area. Small cafés and restaurants outlined the square.

“That must be close to where the Seahawks play,” Roy said, pointing toward CenturyLink Field. “I’m hoping to get us tickets for a game this year.”

“I’d like that,” Maggie said.

“One day I’ll take the boys.”

“Give them a couple years so they can fully appreciate it.” At the price of the tickets, plus the three-hour drive from Yakima, it became an expensive weekend excursion.

“They’ll love it,” Roy said. “Now that the kids are five and three, it’s a whole new world. Before long, they’ll both be in school.”

“Let’s not rush it,” she said, thinking that there were more diapers
in their future, only Roy didn’t know it yet. And she wasn’t about to mention the pregnancy now.

“You said not long ago that you might look for a part-time position once Collin is in school.”

“I will,” Maggie said, and silently realized that that, too, would now be delayed for a few years. Unless she was forced to find a job in order to support herself … if she was no longer married. It was one thing to seek her husband’s forgiveness for an indiscretion but another to expect him to love, accept, and raise a child that might not be his. A chill went down her arms at the thought of Roy leaving her. She swallowed a sob, which caught Roy’s attention.

“Sweetheart?”

She managed another phony smile. If she made it through this day without giving herself away, it would be a miracle.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked, looking concerned.

“It’s just that I’m a little overwhelmed by everything.”

He frowned, as if he found that hard to believe.

They purchased the tickets for the Underground Seattle tour and then, because they had almost an hour to wait, Roy suggested they eat lunch. The restaurant he chose seemed to have a wide selection of entrées.

“No more fish and chips for you,” her husband teased.