Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(62)

Little did Olivia realize that her mother’s demand for a medical facility in town would one day save Jack’s life.

Thirty-One

Corrie had been melancholy all day, but she didn’t want to mention it to Roy. Telling him the reason for her sadness wouldn’t help. On this date in 1975, she’d sat in the office of her father’s attorney and signed the adoption papers for her baby. In those days it wasn’t necessary to get the father’s permission to release the child; if it had been, Corrie would’ve been forced to lie and list the child’s father as unknown. That would have mortified her in front of her family and her father’s friend, but she would’ve done it rather than involve Roy.

Holding a just-brewed mug of coffee, Corrie watched her husband as he sorted efficiently through the mail, setting aside bills. Roy was so used to her presence at work that he usually didn’t pay much attention to her when she came into his office. This time, he looked up and frowned.

“You coming down with the flu?” he surprised her by asking.

“I don’t think so. Why?”

He shrugged off the question. “You’re pale.”

“I am not.”

“You also seem mighty quiet all of a sudden. That’s not like you,” he said, trying again.

“Count your blessings.”

A half smile came and went in the blink of an eye. “Perhaps I should, but if you’re not feeling well, go home. It’s a slow day.”

“Maybe I will,” she said, thinking about it as she returned to the front office. Roy had been hired to do a background check for a Seattle friend, Joe Landry. Joe had recently hired a new assistant and suspected the woman had lied about her employment history. He’d asked Roy to check her out, which he’d been doing for the last couple of days. These small jobs were their bread and butter.

After about half an hour, Roy came out of his office and sat on the corner of her desk. “You’re still here. Corrie, if you’re not feeling well, go home.” When she merely shrugged, he asked, “You talk to Linnette lately?”

“Not really.” Corrie had assumed that with her daughter living in Cedar Cove, they’d spend a lot of time together. That hadn’t been the case. They both led busy lives and sometimes a week went by before they saw each other or even spoke.

Her answer seemed to astonish her husband. “She was by recently and had a couple of questions regarding a, uh, dating situation. That horse guy you were so keen on.”

“You gave our daughter romantic advice?” This was frightening.

Roy bristled. “I didn’t really want to, but she needed help.”

“You didn’t say anything about this.”

Roy rubbed the side of his face. “The fact of the matter is, it slipped my mind until just now. You might want to talk to her.”

Corrie agreed and reached for the phone. Checking the time, she hoped she wasn’t waking Linnette. Because of her changing shifts at the clinic, it was difficult to remember the hours she worked.

“Why don’t you take her to lunch today? Do that mother-daughter thing?”

Corrie removed her hand from the phone. It occurred to her that her husband seemed awfully eager to get her out of the office. First he’d urged her to go home for the rest of the day. Now he was more or less telling her to take an extended lunch break. Something was going on and she wanted to know what.

Crossing her arms, she stared at him. “All right, what are you up to?”

His look of bemused innocence might have fooled some, but she’d been married to the man for nearly twenty-seven years.

“Nothing!” he declared, apparently shocked that she’d suggest otherwise.

“You’d better tell me, Roy McAfee.”

“What makes you think I’m up to anything?”

He wasn’t going to talk his way out of this. “Because I know you.”

He frowned and then shook his head. “You’re a suspicious woman.”

She wasn’t arguing with him. “That’s what being married to you has done for me.”

Roy slid off the edge of her desk and sauntered back into his office, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Corrie followed him and sat in the chair normally reserved for clients. “Do you remember what the first postcard said?”

Roy didn’t bother to pull it out. He’d apparently read it so many times that he was able to quote it verbatim. “EVERYONE HAS REGRETS. IS THERE ANYTHING YOU’VE DONE YOU WISH YOU COULD DO OVER? THINK ABOUT IT.”

“We’ve both been doing a lot of thinking the last few weeks,” she said softly. Her heart was filled with love and, yes, regrets. She’d never even held her baby but she’d loved her. Signing those adoption papers, she’d felt she was giving away a piece of her soul. Her parents would’ve helped her, had she decided to raise the child on her own. But young though she was, Corrie had understood that it would’ve been unfair to them, unfair to her and unfair to her child. A loving family had been waiting, eager for a child, and as emotionally painful as it had been, she’d signed her name and released her baby.

“I’d like to tell you that if I’d been told about the pregnancy, I would’ve stepped forward and done the honorable thing. But I just don’t know….”