Cedar Cove Collection. Debbie Macomber

Cedar Cove Collection - Debbie Macomber


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me over for dinner.”

      “It was our pleasure,” Grace said, doing her best to hide her fears.

      “Daddy was in a good mood.”

      “Yes, he was.” Grace closed her eyes in an effort to concentrate on the conversation.

      “Mom,” her daughter said cautiously, “is everything all right?”

      “Of course…I think so,” she corrected.

      The line went silent, then, “What does that mean?”

      Because she didn’t know where else to turn, Grace told her daughter. “I haven’t seen your father in nearly two days.”

      “You haven’t seen Dad? But where is he?” Kelly asked, anxiety sharpening her voice.

      “I…don’t know.”

      “Shouldn’t you call someone?”

      “I phoned the sheriff’s office the first time and learned that—”

      “This has happened before?” Kelly cried. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

      Her daughter was upset with her, and that was the last thing Grace wanted. Not with Kelly pregnant. A risky pregnancy at that.

      “I’m on my way over,” Kelly said adamantly.

      “Kelly, no, there’s nothing you can do.”

      “Does Maryellen know?”

      Grace released a shuddering sigh. “I…I haven’t told anyone.”

      “I’m coming over,” her daughter insisted, and then slammed down the phone.

      Twenty minutes later, both Maryellen and Kelly arrived. They stormed into the house like avenging angels.

      “What happened?” Maryellen demanded. The two girls gathered around the very table where they’d sat as children.

      Grace told them everything she could remember.

      “Where would Daddy go?”

      Grace forced herself to look away. Although she didn’t want to admit the possibility, she had to let them know her thoughts. “I think there might be another woman.”

      Both of her daughters vehemently rejected that idea.

      “No,” Maryellen said first.

      “Not Daddy,” Kelly chimed in. “How can you even suggest such a thing?”

      Dan had denied it, too. But he’d been so emotionally detached from her lately, so remote and moody. Another woman was the only plausible excuse that would explain his behavior.

      “I don’t believe that,” Maryellen insisted.

      “Then where is he?” she cried.

      Neither of her daughters answered.

      “Think,” Kelly urged.

      “What could Daddy have been looking for?” Maryellen asked. “You said it seemed like he was searching for something before he left.”

      “But he didn’t take anything.” Grace had carefully folded all his clothes and placed them back inside the drawers. Apparently he’d found whatever he’d been seeking with such impatience, although she couldn’t find a single thing missing.

      “He’s coming back,” Kelly said. “Otherwise he would’ve packed a suitcase.”

      “Of course he’s coming back,” Maryellen agreed, as though it was a foregone conclusion.

      “I’m sure he will,” Grace said. He had the first time, hadn’t he? That gave her hope, although her heart told her something else.

      They were all silent after that. There seemed nothing left to say. Grace reached for her daughters’ hands and squeezed them, hoping to offer reassurance when she had damn little to give.

      “What are we going to do next?” Maryellen, the no-nonsense one, was determined to take some kind of action. Grace didn’t know how to advise her. Maryellen was the daughter of her heart. She didn’t favor one girl over the other, but her oldest child was most like her. Maryellen had married young and unwisely, and, after one year, divorced. Now in her mid-thirties, she didn’t seem likely to repeat the experience. Grace had wanted a different life for her, but Maryellen, who managed a local art gallery, seemed content, and that was all that mattered.

      “We should inform the sheriff,” Kelly said.

      Grace explained what she’d learned earlier. It wasn’t against the law to disappear.

      “We have to let the authorities know, anyway,” Maryellen muttered.

      “We can have posters printed up, too,” Kelly suggested. She stood and started pacing.

      “No.” Grace adamantly opposed that idea. If Dan was coming back, and she suspected that eventually he would, he’d be furious if she allowed his face to be posted around town. “Your father wouldn’t want that.”

      “Too bad. Then he shouldn’t have left.”

      “I’d prefer to wait.” Grace pleaded for time.

      “How long?”

      “One more day is all I’m willing to give him,” Maryellen said, narrowing her eyes.

      “If your father hasn’t returned in another day or two, we should probably contact the authorities,” Grace announced, knotting a tissue in her hand. “Other than that, I don’t feel there’s anything we can do. Your father has chosen to leave. He went of his own free will—”

      “We don’t know that,” Kelly protested.

      “It happened before,” Grace reasoned. “He returned when he was ready.”

      “And he will again.”

      She nodded. “We’ll just have to wait.” Hard as it was, she couldn’t see doing anything else.

      “I don’t know where Dad is, but I’m positive that he’d never leave you for another woman,” Maryellen said softly.

      Grace hugged her daughters and reluctantly let them go. She stood on the porch, both arms wrapped around her as they drove off to their respective homes. She was alone now, totally and completely alone.

      Her daughters refused to believe that Dan had found another woman, but she’d suspected it for a very long time. She didn’t want to believe it, either, but couldn’t think of anything else to explain his disappearances.

      Olivia knew the minute they met for their aerobics class that Wednesday. Grace didn’t need to utter a word.

      “Dan?”

      Grace nodded as they walked toward the gym.

      “When?”

      “The last time I saw him was Monday morning.”

      “No word since?”

      “None.”

      Olivia exhaled. “Are you all right?”

      Grace bit her lower lip. “Do I have a choice?” Dan was determined to punish her for a list of sins she didn’t even know she’d committed. The last laugh, however, would be hers. Grace had no intention of continuing this charade of a marriage.

      Dan’s latest disappearing act was the end. She was getting out. Dan might well return, and when he did, she’d have him served with divorce papers.

      This was the end.

      Ten

      Cecilia had never been prouder of anything. The test paper had a huge A scrawled on the front and Mr. Cavanaugh, her algebra professor, had written Well Done! in bright red pen across one corner. She’d aced the test. After class


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