1105 Yakima Street (Cedar Cove #11)

1105 Yakima Street (Cedar Cove #11) Page 22

“Okay, stop. I need your help.”

“Larry’s gone?”

“Yup. I’m fighting off depression. I can’t do it alone. Want to come over and eat ice cream and watch a bunch of romantic movies with me?”

“I’d love to.” Her friend didn’t hesitate. “Do you have butter pecan or do I need to go to the store on my way?”

“Let me check.” Shirley walked to the fridge and opened the freezer section. “I’ve got vanilla and…” She shuffled aside two frozen halibut filets, a microwave dinner and a box of peas. “Nope, that’s it.”

“I’ll make an ice cream run,” Miranda said. “It’ll take me…forty minutes. Can you survive that long?”

“Forty I can do. Forty-five would be a stretch.”

“I’ll tell the grocery clerk this is an emergency and I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Before she hung up, Shirley managed a smile. Miranda was a good friend and she was grateful for her willingness to drop everything and come to her rescue.

When Miranda arrived with three flavors of ice cream, Shirley had unpacked her suitcase, started a load of laundry and set out bowls and spoons. A selection of DVDs was stacked and ready. After sorting through her favorite romantic movies, she’d chosen The African Queen, French Kiss, Romancing the Stone and The Princess Bride.

Miranda decided they should watch French Kiss first. Shirley slipped it into the DVD player while her friend dished up their treats. They both sat on the sofa, eating slowly. “I love this movie,” Shirley mumbled through a mouthful of melting ice cream.

“Me, too,” Miranda said dreamily.

Given Miranda’s often brusque manner, few would guess she was such a romantic. Shirley knew otherwise. The contrast between her no-nonsense exterior and her warm, sensitive heart was one of the interesting things about her.

Shirley didn’t know anyone, not even Olivia, who could cut Will Jefferson down to size as effectively as her friend. She’d been observing the bickering and one-upsmanship between the two of them for months. They argued like a long-married couple, and Shirley was convinced they both enjoyed it. That style of interaction wasn’t for her, but it worked for some couples.

“Guess what I got in the mail,” Shirley said.

“Anything good? A prize from Publishers Clearing House?”

“Better. A card from your employer.”

Miranda put her bowl of ice cream on the coffee table, sat up straight and paused the movie. “Will sent you a wedding card?”

“He sure did.”

“Will? Will Jefferson? Are you joking?”

“He isn’t so bad, you know,” Shirley said. “Beneath all that bravado, he’s a nice guy.”

Miranda frowned, shaking her head. “He’s completely wrapped up in himself. His ego is so big I can’t imagine how he fits it through the door.”

Shirley laughed. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Aren’t you exaggerating?”

“You don’t work with him. I do. I’ve seen him at his worst.”

“And his best,” Shirley added.

Miranda wasn’t giving in that easily. “You go ahead and believe what you like, but I know the real Will Jefferson.”

Shirley got up from the sofa and retrieved the wedding card, which she handed to her friend.

Miranda read Will’s message, then closed the card and looked up at Shirley.

“Well?”

“He’s good with words,” Miranda reluctantly admitted. “He even sounds gracious.”

“Don’t act so surprised.” The congratulatory note had felt authentic to Shirley. Will had wished her and Larry happiness and claimed he was proud to have played a role in bringing them together.

“He can be sincere,” Miranda said, still with some reluctance.

Shirley agreed. Despite her initial doubts, she’d sensed his good qualities—his kindness, his commitment to the artists of Cedar Cove, his generosity. Granted, he’d tried too hard to impress her and had come across as excessively sure of himself. “He’s genuinely pleased that Larry and I found happiness together.”

“Genuinely?” Miranda snickered.

Shirley studied her friend. “I had no idea you disliked him so much.” In reality she knew the opposite was true; Miranda was falling for Will, and fighting it every step of the way.

“I don’t dislike him,” Miranda said. “In fact…” She closed her eyes.

“What?” Shirley pressed, although she was well aware of what Miranda was about to divulge.

“If you laugh, I swear to you I will get up and walk out of this house and never return.”

“I won’t laugh,” Shirley promised, her expression sober. “Cross my heart.”

Miranda frowned at her, as if to gauge the truth of her words. “All right, I’ll tell you. I’m afraid…actually, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

“You think I didn’t already know that?” Shirley broke into a big grin. Miranda’s confession pleased her. Maybe something would finally happen between Will and her friend.

“You knew?”

“Oh, sweetie, we’ve been friends far too long for me not to see how you feel about Will.”

Miranda looked stricken. “Do you think Will knows?” she asked anxiously.

“Will Jefferson?” Shirley asked. “The poor man doesn’t have a clue.” Although she secretly thought he did…and that he felt exactly the same way.

Seventeen

When Gloria had first discovered she was pregnant with Chad Timmons’s baby, it had felt like the end of the world. In the months since, she’d come to think differently. She loved her unborn child with a fierce protectiveness and the kind of intensity she’d never experienced before.

Her obstetrician had ordered a routine ultrasound for Tuesday morning. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Gloria closed her eyes, silently debating what to do. She hadn’t seen or heard from Chad since they’d talked in the hospital parking lot, the day he’d been with that other woman.

The blonde had looked beautiful, petite, delicate. Unlike Gloria, who considered herself moderately attractive and took pride in her strength and toughness. As a cop, she had to be strong, mentally and physically.

Chad knew about the baby. For reasons of his own, Roy McAfee had told him. She’d been upset that Roy had gone against her express wishes, but she’d forgiven him in time and even found a measure of relief in knowing that this uncomfortable task had been taken from her. After he’d learned the news, though, Chad hadn’t made any effort to contact her. That shouldn’t surprise her, though. Oh, he’d had Mack deliver those books, which showed he was concerned. But he hadn’t reached out to her—nor, for that matter, had she approached him.

It occurred to her that he might want to know about the ultrasound. The nurse who’d scheduled it had told Gloria that she could bring someone with her.

She’d considered asking her birth mother, but Corrie was in North Dakota with Linnette and her new grandson. Otherwise, Corrie would certainly have accompanied her.

But she had to acknowledge that the one person who should be there was Chad. Fingers shaking, she picked up her cell phone and punched the button that would connect her to Chad. A dozen times she’d been tempted to delete his number. She never had. Perhaps she’d secretly wanted to maintain this link.

He answered immediately. “Dr. Timmons.”

“It’s Gloria.” Her throat was so dry, she could barely get her name out.

Silence.

“I understand Roy told you…”

“That you’re pregnant,” he finished.

“Yes…almost five months.”

Silence again, a tense silence that gnawed at her stomach. “I tried to tell you,” she blurted out. “That day I showed up at the hospital. But you were with this woman and—”

“I remember,” he said, cutting her off.

“How is your…friend?” That was a less than subtle way of asking if he was involved with the other woman.

“That’s none of your business.”

Gloria clenched her fist. “Right.”

“Is everything okay with the baby?” His voice remained cool, detached.

He hadn’t inquired about her. “Everything is normal so far… . I’m having an ultrasound tomorrow at nine.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?”

“I thought you should know.” She regretted calling him. Chad’s attitude—indifference verging on hostility—was making this nearly impossible.

“Why?”

“The nurse said I could bring someone,” she muttered, feeling foolish.

“You want me with you?” His voice softened.

“If possible. I…I realize I didn’t give you much notice.”

“I work the early shift on Tuesdays.”

“Oh.” She should’ve phoned right away… .

“I’ll do what I can. But I’m not making any promises.”

Her heart rate accelerated. Chad was saying he’d join her if he could—that he wanted to be with her.

“Okay,” she said, and recited the pertinent information.

“At nine,” he repeated.

“Yes, and, Chad, thank you for the books.” She wanted him to know that she was aware those had come from him. He might not care about her, but he cared about his baby, and that gave her courage. She wondered if she would’ve had the nerve to call him if not for that one small sign.

“Mack told you the books were from me?”

“Not at first. I confronted him about it after Roy admitted he’d talked to you.” Once she’d found out, her emotions had been chaotic for days afterward.

“I have a right to know I’m about to become a father.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “You do.”

“You should never have hidden it from me.” She heard the resentment in his voice; clearly he hadn’t yet forgiven her.

“I hope to see you tomorrow,” she said, and before their conversation could deteriorate into a verbal battle, she ended the call. She did understand his reaction to her keeping the pregnancy a secret. The ironic thing was, she’d done it for him. Chad was seeing someone else—still might be, for all she knew. At this point their only bond was the baby, and she didn’t feel that an unplanned responsibility, one he hadn’t asked for, should interfere with his future or his new relationship.

The next morning Gloria arrived at the ultrasound clinic fifteen minutes early. The waiting area held six chairs, four of which were occupied. Gloria took the fifth one, sat down and picked up a magazine. The couple across from her held hands, while the other couple whispered excitedly.

The two holding hands were called in first. Gloria glanced at the wall clock, figuring Chad probably hadn’t been able to get the time off.

Ten minutes later, the assistant called her name. Gloria put down the magazine, which she’d hardly looked at, and stood. She followed the woman out of the waiting area and into an examination room. She was on the table, with her pants unzipped and pulled down and her top raised, when there was a knock on the door. The technician was explaining the procedure and what Gloria could expect to see and not see in the ultrasound. She listened intently but found herself distracted by a feeling of aloneness. A feeling of abandonment, of not mattering enough to anyone. The lump in her throat seemed about to choke her—and then the assistant opened the door.