Cedar Cove Collection (Books 1-6). Debbie Macomber
to you. Don’t misunderstand me, I want a family, but it’s more important to me that you feel you can go through with another pregnancy.”
Cecilia leaned her head against his shoulder as they resumed walking. “I’ve given this a lot of thought in the last few months. I’d like to continue with my schooling.”
“You should, Cecilia. You’re very intelligent, and you show real ability with numbers.”
“But I want a family, too. Our family. I’d like to wait a couple of years, though.”
“Whatever you decide.”
“I wish you’d been this agreeable a few months ago,” she teased, then changed her mind. He’d been stubborn, all right, but she’d been no less so.
“Someday soon I want to go back and visit that judge,” she continued.
“Why?”
“She had the courage to tell us to stay together. She didn’t say it in so many words, but that was her message. I want to thank her.”
“I do, too,” Ian said. And he gently kissed the top of her head.
The telephone woke Grace out of a sound sleep. Heart pounding, she jerked upright and automatically groped for the receiver.
“Yes?”
“It’s time,” her son-in-law said.
“Kelly’s in labor?” Grace was already out of bed, holding the telephone to her ear, turning on lights, looking for clothes. The digital clock-radio told her it was three-fifty.
“The contractions are five minutes apart, and we’re on our way to the hospital.”
“I’ll meet you there. Do you want me to call Maryellen?”
“Thanks. She’s the next name on the list.”
After throwing on a pair of sweats, phoning Maryellen and making herself a cup of instant coffee, Grace was ready to head out the door in less than fifteen minutes.
“Buttercup!” She called her dog, needing to let her out in the backyard before she left.
The golden retriever ambled slowly out of the bedroom, obviously not pleased to have her sleep interrupted. “I’ll be back before you know it,” she promised, and then because she was just so excited, she announced loudly, “I’m about to become a grandma!”
Maryellen was at the hospital’s birthing center by the time Grace arrived. They met in the waiting area. Paul’s mother, Margaret, was there with her camera and cross-stitch project.
“I’ve been through this before,” she explained, settling down in a chair and taking out skeins of embroidery thread in various colors.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Maryellen muttered, cradling a cup of convenience-store coffee in her hands. “I haven’t been up this early since drill team in high school.” That comment was followed by a huge yawn.
“Where’re Paul and Kelly?”
“Back there.” Maryellen waved absently toward a set of double doors.
Grace was approaching the nurses’ station to ask for news when Paul appeared. “Kelly’s getting checked now to see how far she’s dilated. She’s doing great.”
“How about you?” Grace asked.
Paul nodded excitedly. “I’m ready for this.”
“He thinks he is,” Paul’s mother teased.
“Your life is going to change forever,” Grace told him.
“Believe me, I know that. Kelly and I very much want this baby.”
Before he left, Grace hugged her son-in-law, grateful to Paul. He’d been a wonderful help in the months since Dan’s disappearance. Grace knew he’d given Kelly unwavering comfort and support, as well as commonsense advice; she herself had leaned on him many times when something around the house needed fixing. Not once had he complained. She’d gradually become stronger, braver, more determined to get on with her life, but she didn’t think Kelly felt that kind of resolve yet—or resignation.
“How do you think Kelly’s going to deal with Dad not being here?” Maryellen asked, as if reading Grace’s thoughts.
Grace couldn’t answer that. Kelly had clung to the hope that her father would reappear as soon as her baby was born, absolutely refusing to accept that he’d abandon her at this crucial time.
“He isn’t coming,” Maryellen whispered, leaning forward. “Dad’s not going to walk through that door and there isn’t going to be a joyous reunion, is there?”
“Probably not,” Grace agreed. “Kelly will deal with it in her own way. Right now, though, she has enough to think about.”
“You’re telling me,” Maryellen muttered.
Grace leaned back in the hard plastic chair and closed her eyes, fighting off the urge to sleep. A part of her wanted to be with Kelly, but she also recognized that this special time was reserved for Paul and she didn’t want to intrude. Maryellen, long-divorced, had shown no interest in motherhood, nor had she revealed any desire to marry again. Grace sometimes wondered if Maryellen had put her emotional life on hold while concentrating on her professional life. Grace’s only concern was that Maryellen have no regrets about the choices she was making.
At seven-thirty, Kelly was ready to deliver. Paul brought them that update and then dashed out of the waiting room at lightning speed. Maryellen, Grace and Margaret gathered in the hallway outside the delivery room. Not long afterward, their tension was broken by the cry of an infant.
Paul appeared a few minutes later. “It’s a boy,” came his jubilant shout. “A boy!”
Grace didn’t know Margaret Jordan very well, but all of a sudden Maryellen and Grace were hugging Paul’s mother as if she were their closest friend. Tears of joy crept down Grace’s cheeks.
“Mother,” Maryellen chided. “Just look at you.”
“I have a right,” she laughed, wiping the tears from her face. “I’m a grandmother!”
At nine that morning, while Kelly slept, Grace sat in the rocking chair with this precious new life cradled lovingly in her arms. “Welcome, little Tyler Daniel Jordan,” she whispered, rocking gently. The commotion had died down. Margaret had taken her pictures and returned home to her husband. Maryellen had gone into the art gallery, refusing to allow a little thing like becoming an aunt—and getting hardly any sleep—to keep her away. Grace, however, was in no hurry to leave.
“Mom,” Kelly whispered from her bed. Grace glanced up to find her daughter watching her. “He’s so perfect, isn’t he?”
“Precious child.” Grace kissed Tyler’s forehead.
“You don’t mind that we named him after Dad, do you?”
Grace assured her she didn’t. “I don’t know where your father is,” she told her, “and there are no guarantees I ever will, but I’m sure of one thing. He loves you and he’d be very proud to know that little Tyler is his namesake.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I believe that with all my heart.”
“Thank you, Mom,” her daughter whispered, then closed her eyes.
Grace continued to rock her grandson, holding this much-loved child close to her heart. Dan was gone. His leaving had torn a gaping hole in her life. She’d lived with her husband’s disappearance all these months, struggling to find answers, knowing that might never happen. But just now, holding this grandchild, she felt as though none of that mattered.
In confronting her doubts and fears, Grace had learned something vital. Everything she needed for happiness lay deep