Harbor Street (Cedar Cove #5)(93)

Her husband—she wondered if she’d ever grow accustomed to thinking of Cliff as her husband—was right. It was time to reach a decision, hard though that would be. The small house on Rosewood had been her home for more than thirty years, and she found placing it on the market a painful and difficult prospect. But Grace was afraid that renting it out would be too much extra work for her and Cliff, and she didn’t want that.

Kelly had been born while she and Dan lived in this house. Both Maryellen and Kelly had attended elementary school around the corner. The girls had gone through the traumatic teen years here. When they’d grown up and moved away, Grace and Dan had briefly experienced the empty-nest syndrome.

The neighbors on Rosewood Lane were her friends. When Grace had gone back to school for her degree in library science, Mrs. Vessey across the street used to babysit the girls after class until Dan got home from work. Mrs. Jennings down the road had two daughters the same age as Grace’s. They still compared notes. These days their conversations were mostly about gardening.

Her rose garden. That was something else Grace didn’t feel she could leave. Working on her roses had brought her such comfort in those early months after Dan’s disappearance.

At the thought of her dead husband, Grace grew teary-eyed and sad. Kelly and Paul had recently announced that they were expecting another child. Dan would have loved his grandchildren. He’d loved both girls; she’d never doubted that, although he’d felt closer to Kelly. He’d been alive when their youngest daughter learned she was pregnant with Tyler. Until Dan’s body was found, Kelly had refused to let go of her belief that he’d return, with a perfectly logical explanation of where he’d gone and why.

That was never to be. The demons that haunted Dan had been merciless and unforgiving. How she wished he could have talked to her about his ordeal in Vietnam. Perhaps then, the outcome might have been different.

His suicide was her life’s greatest tragedy.

Because Dan was on her mind, Grace went out to the garage, which had been her husband’s domain. She missed not having Buttercup at her side.

As she walked through the garage, turning on the lights, Grace remembered the day she’d discovered that Dan had destroyed the last Christmas gifts she and the girls had given him. At the time she’d been filled with rage and grief, incapable of understanding why he’d done something so cruel. She’d assumed he hated her, hated his life with her. She’d assumed wrong. The person Dan hated was himself. She understood now that Dan hadn’t considered himself worthy of those gifts. Because of that, he’d repeatedly turned his back on any good thing life had to offer.

Most of what was in the garage had belonged to Dan. Grace didn’t know what to do with his tools or the expensive tree-cutting equipment. Sell it, she supposed. Other than a few photographs—and her memories—this was all that was left of her dead husband. Kneeling on the cold concrete, she peeked inside a couple of the cartons and saw books and old magazines. How sad that Dan’s legacy to his family was reduced to a few cardboard boxes.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Cliff’s gentle voice came to her.

Startled, she glanced up, surprised to find it dark outside. “What time is it?” she asked.

“Almost eight.”

“No!” She couldn’t believe she’d been in the garage so long. It felt like only a few minutes. Unable to resist checking her watch, she confirmed that Cliff was right.

“Is there anything you need to take back to the house?” he asked.

She shook her head. “This was Dan’s stuff.”

Cliff stepped into the garage. “You’re wondering what to do with it now?”

Grace smiled, grateful her husband understood. “I could always give it to the girls, I suppose.” Although what Maryellen and Kelly would do with it was another question.

“That isn’t really the problem, is it?” Cliff said softly. He looked around, although she was sure he’d been here a dozen times. “You don’t want to let go of the house, do you?”

When he said this, she recognized her reluctance for what it was. “No,” she confessed. “No…I can’t. Not yet.”

“Then keep it.”

“You don’t mind if we rent it? Even though dealing with tenants is a bother…”

“Grace, no. Of course I don’t mind. It’s your home to do with as you wish. And if we choose the right tenants, it won’t be much bother.”

She felt a great sense of relief and slipped her arms around Cliff’s waist, hugging him close. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“For what?” He sounded amused.

“For loving me.”

“That, my dear,” he said, lifting her chin so she could look into his eyes, “is the easy part.”

“I love you so much.” Her feelings for him, and her lingering grief over Dan, brought her close to tears.

His arms circled her. “I know you do.” He kissed her forehead. “Are you ready to come home now?”

Grace nodded. Home, she told herself, was wherever Cliff was.

With his arm about her waist, he led her out of the garage. “You haven’t had dinner, have you?”

“No.” Now that he mentioned it, she realized how hungry she was. At that very moment, her stomach growled as if to verify the fact.