Rainier Drive (Cedar Cove #6)(87)

Rachel reached for her purse and after a brief farewell, she and Teri left the salon. “You want to stop by my place?” she invited. “The neighbors’ll get a kick out of seeing the limo and James.”

Teri shook her head. “I can’t. Bobby’s phoning as soon as he lands.”

“You can take his call at my house,” Rachel told her.

With a silly grin, Teri said, “No, I can’t. I wouldn’t want Jolene listening in on that conversation.”

Rachel laughed. “You’re right.”

Teri walked out to the parking lot with her. James stood outside the stretch limo, awaiting her instructions.

Her friend paused and studied her. “You still care about Nate?”

Rachel sighed. She was crazy about this guy, but not crazy enough to have a face to face with his mother. She supposed she’d have to meet the dragon lady sometime, but she wasn’t ready for that yet.

They hugged once more and each went their separate ways. Rachel had only been home a few minutes when Bruce arrived with Jolene.

“We brought dinner,” he said as his daughter skipped into the house, carefully holding a pizza box.

Bruce followed, carrying the little girl’s overnight bag, which he set down in the living room.

“You can go now,” Jolene said, dismissing him.

Rachel laughed at the shocked look on Bruce’s face. “I guess you got your marching orders.”

He seemed downright perplexed. “Don’t I get any dinner? I paid for that pizza, I’ll have you know.”

Jolene sent Rachel an enquiring glance. “Let him stay,” Rachel said with a smile.

“All right,” his daughter agreed reluctantly. “But you have to leave after you eat. You can’t watch the movie with us.”

“What movie?”

“The Princess Bride,” Rachel whispered. “It’s her favorite.”

“I heard that,” Jolene said. “It’s your favorite, too.”

“Okay, it’s my favorite, too.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Personally I’d rather paint the living room—which is exactly what I’m going to be doing.”

Rachel went into her small kitchen and got three plates, setting them on the table.

“Do you have any red pepper flakes?” Bruce asked.

“Top shelf, right-hand side,” she instructed, her head in the refrigerator as she dug out three cans of soda.

The doorbell chimed, and Jolene immediately shouted, “I’ll get it!”

A sick feeling grabbed Rachel’s stomach even before she turned to see who it was. Sure enough, Nate Olsen stood in the doorway. With both his parents.

Thirty-Seven

Justine had just spent two hours with a Bremerton architect, and everything had gone as well as she’d hoped. Excited and happy, she phoned her mother, who suggested she visit on her way home. The courts were closed for Flag Day, and while the rest of the business world went about its normal tasks, all state and federal employees enjoyed a one-day vacation.

Justine had always loved 16 Lighthouse Drive; seeing this house never failed to bring her a feeling of peace. The sweeping front porch was like an invitation to come in, to linger, to relax with family and friends.

When she walked up the steps, Justine could hear the vacuum cleaner running. So this was how her mother had chosen to spend her day off. Olivia was cleaning house. That was typical; her mother was a stickler for order. According to Olivia and to Charlotte, as well, that old bromide about cleanliness being next to godliness was one hundred percent true. While Justine agreed in theory, she had other priorities and struggled to keep up with her young son and her husband, her friends, the house, plus her job. Justine had handed in her notice the previous Friday; the manager hated to see her leave and had offered her an employment package that sounded tempting. Justine, however, had other plans.

After knocking, she let herself in the front door. Only it wasn’t her mother doing the vacuuming, as she’d assumed. Jack Griffin stood in the middle of the living room wearing headphones, one of her mother’s frilly white aprons tied around his waist. His eyes grew wide with shock when he saw her.

“Well, well, well,” Justine said, unable to hold back an amused grin.

Jack glared at her and removed the headphones.

“Now, this is news,” she murmured. “Should I call for a reporter from the Chronicle?”

“You tell a soul about this and you’re dead meat,” Jack threatened, scowling into the kitchen at Olivia.

“Children, children,” her mother called, as she entered the room, drying her hands on a dish towel.

Jack held Justine’s gaze. “Your mother said vacuuming ranked right up there with jogging,” he muttered. “She made a convincing case. It seemed an easy way to get my daily exercise.”

“And the apron?” Justine asked.

Jack’s gaze connected with Olivia’s. “That was your mother’s idea, too. Something about dusting the bookshelves…” He quickly pulled off the offending apparel and tossed it on the sofa. “You aren’t going to say anything, are you? This is our little secret, right?”

Justine raised her hand as if swearing an oath. “My lips are sealed.”

Shaking her head, Olivia walked over and hugged Justine. “It’s wonderful to see you, sweetheart. So your appointment with the architect went well?”