Lighthouse Road (Cedar Cove #1)(40)

Her daughter looked away. “When James first called to tell me he and Selina were married—and that she’s pregnant—I was so relieved.”

“Relieved?” That was a curious reaction.

“It took the pressure off me. I know you want grandchildren and I want you to have them.” She straightened and met Olivia’s gaze. “But unfortunately, you won’t get them from me.”

“Justine—”

“Listen to me, Mom, please, just this once. I have no intention of ever marrying or having children. I realize you’re concerned about my relationship with Warren, but you don’t need to be. He treats me well and I enjoy his company most of the time, but I’m not serious about him.”

“You don’t want to get married?”

She shook her head. “I know I’m a disappointment to you and I’m sorry, but please accept that I’m just not interested in being a wife or a mother.”

Olivia let the words sink into her heart, then nodded. “I said it earlier and I meant it. I love you, Justine, not for what you do but for who you are.”

Her daughter blinked back tears and lowered her head in order to hide the emotion from Olivia, but it was too late. She saw.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Then as if nothing noteworthy had transpired between them, they went back to eating their salads.

Every afternoon as Cecilia arrived for work, she looked across Cedar Cove to the Bremerton shipyard, where the George Washington was still berthed. It’d been more than a week since her dinner with Ian and she hadn’t heard a word from him. Before he’d left her that night, he’d promised to get in touch prior to sailing. Apparently the aircraft carrier was still undergoing repairs.

Cecilia knew she had no right to feel disappointed that he hadn’t called. He didn’t have any reason to contact her, other than to leave her the keys to his car.

The dinner and movie had been wonderful; the lovemaking, too. Until he’d abruptly left, Cecilia had begun to feel that they’d made a breakthrough in their relationship. Now she wasn’t sure what to think. And she was horrified that they’d done something as foolish as having unprotected sex. Granted, the likelihood of her being pregnant was very slight, but anyone might figure she’d learned her lesson the first time. Apparently not. When she was in his arms, she’d felt desired—and reassured. Safe. Then he’d dressed and run out as if he couldn’t get away fast enough.

Now this silence. She didn’t understand any of it.

Perhaps Ian was waiting for her to call him. She couldn’t remember exactly what they’d said before he walked out the door. Nothing of importance. Nothing she could even remember. All she could think at the time was that she didn’t want him to leave, but couldn’t ask him to stay, either.

The more she thought about phoning him, the more appealing the idea became. By the end of her shift on Monday night, she’d decided to call Ian first thing after her classes on Tuesday.

All morning Cecilia found herself eyeing the time. She had no idea what Ian’s work schedule was. She hoped he’d be available, but if not, she could always leave him a message.

She knew he was living on base and had a cell phone; she’d written the number in her address book more than a year ago. She called from a pay phone on the community college campus. The phone rang four times and then she got his voice mail, inviting her to leave a message.

“Ian,” she said, worried now that she might be doing the wrong thing. “It’s Cecilia…I hadn’t heard from you and was wondering if you’d changed your mind about the car…which is fine. I mean, I don’t need it or anything. My car’s running great. I’ll talk to you later—that is, if you still want to talk to me.” The last part came out sounding defensive. He’d wanted her badly enough earlier, but apparently sex was all he’d been after. She quickly hung up the receiver and felt foolish, wishing now that she hadn’t given in to the impulse.

Wednesday afternoon when she showed up for work, Cecilia was convinced that Ian wanted nothing more to do with her. Just as the dinner hour was picking up and she was at her busiest, her father appeared.

“There’s a call for you.”

Her heart raced. “Me?” It had to be Ian. No one else would think to contact her here.

“You can take it at the bar,” he told her, glancing around for their boss.

Cecilia quickly abandoned her duties and hurried in. Her hands were moist, her mouth dry with anticipation.

“This is Cecilia Randall,” she said into the mouthpiece, eagerly anticipating Ian’s voice.

Only it wasn’t her husband on the other end of the line. Instead, Andrew Lackey answered.

“We met not long ago, remember?”

“Of course. Where’s Ian?” He might have been transferred again. The Navy did that, often without rhyme or reason—at least in her opinion.

“Listen, I thought you should know. Ian’s in the hospital.”

She gasped. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing too serious. He took a tumble and wrenched his back. Apparently he hit his head, too, because he has a concussion. They’re keeping him for observation.”

“When did it happen?”

“Yesterday morning.”

“Oh.”