16 Lighthouse Road. Debbie Macomber
ten years ago; she’d returned for short periods in the intervening years. It was home in a way no other place had ever been. Every time she took the curve in the road and came upon it, Justine experienced a sensation that had been impossible to reproduce anywhere she’d lived since.
She parked out front. Her mother must have been looking out the window when she drove up, because she opened the door as Justine climbed the steps to the porch.
“Sweetheart,” Olivia said, holding out her arms for a hug. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
Justine forced a smile.
“You’re just in time for dinner.”
Justine could never figure out why her mother insisted on feeding her. It was the same with her grandmother. A maternal need to nurture, she supposed. Not that she needed nurturing anymore. Well, not that kind. “Great,” she said, without enthusiasm. Her stomach was in knots already.
Olivia took a good look at her. “Something on your mind?”
Radar. Justine swore her mother had radar.
“Why don’t you make a pot of tea?” she suggested.
Her mother froze. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you? Dear God, don’t tell me you’re going to marry Warren!”
“Mother, just make the tea and no, I’m not pregnant.”
“Thank God.” Her relief couldn’t have been more evident. Did she even realize how insulting her reaction was?
Olivia moved into the kitchen and Justine followed.
“That was rude of me, honey. Forgive me,” her mother said, putting the kettle on the burner. She sighed. “You know the way I feel about Warren.”
Justine didn’t need to be reminded.
“But you seem to enjoy his company and that’s all that matters.”
Justine didn’t respond to her mother’s halfhearted apology. What was the point? Yes, she liked Warren, but she wasn’t blind to his faults, either. The most appealing thing about him was his age. Justine liked older men. They were settled, confident and, for the most part, secure. She didn’t intend on having children herself and was looking for a mature relationship. She found most men her own age childish and irresponsible.
Olivia poured the tea and carried two cups to the dining-room table. “All right,” she said when they’d both sat down. “If you’re not pregnant, then what’s wrong?”
Justine ignored the question and doctored her tea. “I heard from James last week.”
Her mother stared at her blankly. “What does James have to do with this?”
“He sounded good.”
“Good?”
“Happy,” she elaborated.
“Does he have a new girlfriend?”
She couldn’t believe her mother hadn’t made the connection. “Not…exactly.”
“He’s seeing the same girl as before? Selina? I can’t recall her surname at the moment.”
“Solis.”
“Hmm. Every time James mentions her, they’re fighting over one thing or another.”
“They’re getting along just fine at the moment,” Justine said, struggling not to laugh outright. Her mother appeared to be completely dense.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“Are you, Mother?” Justine pressed.
“Of course I am.” Olivia hesitated. “Are you trying to tell me that James and Selina are engaged?”
“No, I’m here to tell you they’re married.”
“Married?” Olivia came out of her chair and just as quickly sat down again. “Married? Without letting me know? Without a word until the deed is done?”
“James was afraid of how you’d react.”
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