Hearts Divided (Cedar Cove #5.5)(61)

Since Monday night, Elizabeth had studiously avoided thinking about the phone conversation with her grandmother.

She needed to replay it, and there was no time like the present.

She’d made the call to Sarah’s Orchard, a thank-you for the lovely July Fourth weekend she and Matthew had just spent at the farmhouse, and for the wonderful party Gram had thrown in their honor at the Orchard Inn.

The thank-you had been heartfelt. So was Elizabeth’s hope that she’d hear Gram’s enthusiastic approval of the man she was going to marry.

It hadn’t been a far-fetched hope. She’d expected Gram to be as pleased with the match as everyone else.

But…

“Are you sure he’s the one?” Clara had asked.

“Yes, I am. But you aren’t. Why not?” When Gram hadn’t been forthcoming with answer, Elizabeth had provided possible concerns herself. “Is it because he’s ten years older than I am?”

“I didn’t even realize he was.”

“Or because he’s thinking about going into politics?”

“More than thinking,” Gram had replied. “It sounds like his run for the Senate is a sure thing.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Not at all. And with his beautiful, brilliant wife at his side, he’s certain to win.”

“That’s not why he’s marrying me.” Elizabeth’s statement had been emphatic, and so stern it had blocked the question that begged to be asked. You think it is? She’d sensed the question, of course. Rolled right over it. “Ours may not be the love you and Granddad had. What love is? But we’re extremely compatible. I’ve done some dating, you know. I have my own previous relationships to compare this one to. That’s what I have to compare it to, Gram. My relationships, not yours and Granddad’s.”

“And it’s good?”

“Very good.”

“You love him?”

“Of course I do! And Matthew loves me.”

“Do you sing for him?”

Elizabeth couldn’t carry a tune. She knew it. Anyone who’d ever heard her knew it. It had been years—decades—since she’d inflicted her tonelessness on the world. Not since the carefree summers she’d spent in Sarah’s Orchard as a girl. “You know I can’t sing.”

“You always sang for Granddad and me.”

“Yes, but…” You’re my grandparents. You love me unconditionally. “Matthew doesn’t need to hear me sing.”

Before the phone call had ended, Gram had made an effort to soften her position. But it had been damning with faint praise. She didn’t dislike Matthew. She didn’t believe him to be a serial killer in disguise. She just didn’t think he was the man for her only granddaughter. And she’d said, so quietly Elizabeth almost hadn’t heard it, that Charles wouldn’t think so, either.

Maybe that was what Gram’s reaction to Matthew was really about. Granddad. The man Gram had loved for sixty-five years had died last November. It wasn’t in Gram’s nature to give up on life, and she hadn’t. And she had the support of her family, her town and, perhaps most importantly, of Winifred and Helen. Both had known and loved Clara—and Charles—for more than sixty of those sixty-five years.

It had been their men, their soldiers, who’d brought them together. Sam had needed witnesses for his wedding, and friends for his friendless bride. They’d become close friends, all six of them. Over time, Helen and Winifred had lost their beloved husbands. Now Gram had lost hers. Elizabeth had no doubt that Gram’s friends were reaching out to her as Gram and Granddad had reached out to them when Sam and Richard had died.

But Gram had to miss Granddad, deeply and desperately, every day.

That was how Elizabeth felt about losing Granddad, too.

Elizabeth wished Gram could be happy about her wedding, wished it’d given her something hopeful to look forward to.

It worried Elizabeth more than she’d been willing to admit—until this very moment—that it hadn’t.

This very moment coincided with her arrival at Matthew’s.

The silver Accord parked in his driveway was unexpected. And familiar. Its vanity plate confirmed its owner to be Matthew’s executive assistant, Janine—the same Janine who’d been Matthew’s date at the New Year’s Eve gala at the Carlton Club where Matthew and Elizabeth had met.

Elizabeth had been home for the holidays, accompanying her parents to the social events of the season. Matthew had called her the following day, and by the time Elizabeth returned to L.A., she and Matthew were making plans for a future.

It was during a weekend visit in March that Elizabeth had seen Janine’s Accord. She’d arrived at Matthew’s just as Janine, who’d dropped off some financial statements Matthew needed to review, was leaving. She’d also learned from her mother that there’d been a “dreadful” few months when Matthew’s parents had lived in “perpetual fear” that Matthew might marry Janine. Like Elizabeth, Matthew was an only child—and sole heir to a substantial fortune.

Matthew had told Elizabeth that rumors of his possible engagement to Janine were greatly exaggerated. She’d been a lover. That was all. He’d said it dismissively, as if the assistant who drove the Accord wasn’t “wife material.” When Elizabeth called him on what sounded like elitism, he’d apologized right away.