Ultimate Cedar Cove Collection. Debbie Macomber
dare look at him.
“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t protect you, if you know what I mean.” He shrugged when she failed to respond. “Do you really need me to spell it out?”
“No.” An explanation was the last thing she needed. Not when she knew better than he did exactly what the consequence of that night could be—what, in fact, it was.
“Will you be all right? I mean, is there a possibility that…you know.” His concern was evident in his anxious frown.
She forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I am worried.” His eyes clouded. “I need to know—to be sure.”
For one terrifying moment, Maryellen was afraid he’d guessed. “I’m fine, Jon. I appreciate your concern but the situation’s under control.”
His relief was evident as the tension eased from his shoulders. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
He held her eyes a second or two longer, then abruptly turned away.
Now Maryellen could finally relax. She expelled her breath and hurried into the Tulips and Things Craft Store.
* * *
On Friday, five days before Christmas, Maryellen took her lunch break down at the Potbelly Deli, which served wonderful soups and inventive sandwiches. The restaurant was a local favorite, and she went there as often as she could. Enjoying a cup of the seafood chowder, Maryellen sat in the corner by herself, reading an art magazine, when her mother stepped inside.
“I thought I saw you in here,” Grace said. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“I’d love it.” Although they lived and worked in the same town, a week would slip past without the chance to talk or visit.
Her mother ordered a bowl of the tomato bisque soup and a cup of coffee, then sat in the chair across from her. “I had a visitor not long ago.”
It didn’t take Maryellen long to guess. “Cliff Harding?”
Blushing, Grace nodded. “He invited me and Buttercup to see his horse ranch. I went out there on Saturday.” She stirred her soup and didn’t look up. “Charlotte was going to come originally, but she wasn’t feeling well, so it was just Cliff, me, Buttercup and the horses. He has magnificent horses.” After a slight pause she continued, adding comments about the home, a two-story log house, and the acreage—pastures, woods and even a stream.
Maryellen couldn’t remember seeing her mother more animated about anything in quite a while. “That sounds wonderful.” It was a step in the right direction that her mother had agreed to this outing with Cliff.
Grace tasted the soup, crumbled a package of oyster crackers and dumped them in. When she glanced up, she stared at Maryellen for a moment, her eyes narrowed. “My goodness, you’re terribly pale,” she said. “Are you feeling sick?”
“I’m pale?” She tried to pretend this was news.
“You look anemic.”
“I’m fine, Mom.”
Her mother studied her, frowning slightly. “I want you to promise me you’ll make a doctor’s appointment.”
“I don’t need to see a doctor,” she said, wanting to laugh off her concern. “The next thing I know, you’ll be lecturing me about eating prunes the way Mrs. Jefferson always does.”
Grace swallowed another mouthful of soup. “If you don’t make the appointment, then I will. I don’t remember ever seeing you this pale. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were pregnant.”
The words shocked Maryellen so badly that she choked on her soup. She coughed and wheezed, tears springing to her eyes, and her mother leapt up and pounded her hard on the back.
“Are you all right?”
Maryellen reached for her water glass and sipped. “I’m fine…I think.”
A minute or more passed, and Maryellen could feel her mother’s scrutiny. When Grace finally spoke, her voice was low. “Your father was always closest to Kelly,” she said. “You were the one I identified with most. We’re quite a bit alike. You realize that, don’t you? My hair was once the exact shade of yours. My eyes are the same dark brown.”
Maryellen didn’t know where this conversation was leading, but she had her suspicions. “You’re my mother,” she said lightly. “Of course I look like you.”
Her mother’s voice fell to a whisper. “I was a senior in high school when I discovered I was pregnant with you.”
Maryellen swallowed hard. The details of her birth hadn’t ever been openly discussed, although she’d figured out in her early teens that her mother had gotten pregnant in high school.
“I told Dan, and we had no idea what we were going to do. It was important that we wait until after graduation before we told our parents, but my mother knew. I never had to tell her about you, and do you know why?”
Maryellen’s eyes filled with tears and she picked up her napkin, crumpling it in her hands. “Because you were so pale?”
Her mother nodded. “I was anemic, too. Young and healthy though I was, the pregnancy drained me and I looked deathly pale. It wasn’t a severe case, just enough for me to need a prescription for iron tablets.” She didn’t say anything else, didn’t press Maryellen or throw questions at her. Instead she waited.
“Then you know,” Maryellen said after a moment, fighting hard not to weep openly in public.
“The father?”
“Out of the picture,” she said, not wanting to mention Jon’s name.
“Oh, Maryellen…”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, putting on a brave front, “really I will. Mom, I’m almost thirty-six years old. I can take care of myself.”
“But…”
“It took some adjusting, but now that I’ve accepted this, I’m happy.” The joy was decidedly absent at the moment with tears making wet tracks down her cheeks.
“We always had this connection, Maryellen,” her mother said. “I knew. Somehow I knew.”
“We didn’t always, Mom.”
Grace looked up at her. “What do you mean?”
“If we had this special connection fifteen years ago, you would’ve known then, too.”
Her mother stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes.
There, it was out—a piece of the truth that she’d assumed would remain forever buried. Her sin, her pain, the guilt she’d carried with her for all these years.
“You were pregnant before?”
The lump in her throat was so big, she could only answer with a nod.
“Leave it to you to wait until the last minute to put up a tree,” Olivia teased Jack as he took the first package of decorative balls from a shopping bag. Actually, Olivia thought it was rather a sweet gesture on Jack’s part. Eric had briefly moved out but was back, much to Jack’s relief. He’d bought the Christmas tree in an effort to lift his son’s spirits over the holidays and Olivia had agreed to help him decorate it. This had entailed buying lights and decorations, since Jack hadn’t bothered much with Christmas since his divorce.
Eric had grown progressively more depressed at the approach of Christmas. Jack had done what he could to pull his son out of his melancholy but to no avail. Two days before Christmas, he invited Olivia over to decorate a Christmas tree while Eric was out. They hoped the surprise would jolt him into a more cheerful frame of mind.
“I