Rosewood Lane (Cedar Cove #2)(100)

“Olivia phoned,” Cliff told her. “We spoke for a while. Maryellen checked in, too. You might want to give her a call later.”

“What about Olivia? Should I return her call?”

“Only if you want. She was more concerned that you not be by yourself, but I assured her I was here for you. I’m not going anywhere, Grace.”

His words comforted her. She’d felt so desperately alone since the discovery of Dan’s body. Even after he’d disappeared, she hadn’t experienced this cold loneliness in quite the same way.

Reaching for the pot holders, Cliff withdrew a casserole dish from the oven. “I hope you like shepherd’s pie?”

She didn’t feel like eating, but nodded. Since he’d gone to so much trouble, the least she could do was make an effort to show her appreciation. Only when she actually sat down to eat did she realize how hungry she was.

“You’re an excellent cook.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, apparently pleased by her praise. “My repertoire is pretty basic, though.”

When they’d finished with the meal, they lingered over coffee and then, because she needed to do something with her hands, she started clearing away dishes. Cliff insisted on helping and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I meant what I told Olivia,” Cliff said as he set a dinner plate inside the dishwasher.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not leaving you. Don’t worry, I’m not going to set up camp in your living room, but I want you to know I’m here for the long haul.” He leaned against the counter and sighed. “Today, the day you’ve buried your husband, probably isn’t the right time to tell you this, but I care deeply about you, Grace.”

His words hung in the air between them.

“I care about you, too,” she said quietly. She knew that Cliff was meant to be in her life as surely as the sun shone in the sky.

“You feel the same way?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“It’s just that—damn, you can’t say that to a man when he has a dishtowel in his hand.”

“Sure I can,” she teased, “and do you know why? Because I don’t plan on leaving you anytime soon, either.”

Then they were in each other’s arms again. They didn’t kiss; the day of Dan’s funeral was too soon for that. But the time would come again and they’d both know when it did.

“Are you sure your boyfriend won’t mind me stealing you on a Friday night?” Stan asked Olivia as they stood in line at the six-plex theater.

“Jack’s busy.” He’d phoned and invited her to come with him to the school board meeting, but she’d declined. Because Jack was so paranoid about Stan, she didn’t mention that she was going to an early movie with her ex-husband. She would tell him, though; she just didn’t want a big discussion about it.

“This is almost like old times,” Stan said.

“Not quite. Are you buying the popcorn or am I?”

“You are,” he said.

“Well, in that way, I guess, it is like old times.” With three young children, a night out for them had been infrequent. Going to a movie every six months was a big deal. In order to save time, Stan generally bought the tickets while she stood in line at the snack bar.

“Where is Clark Kent, anyway?” Stan asked as they walked into the theater.

He certainly was curious. “He had a meeting to attend.”

“Are you going to tell him about this? Because I don’t want to be a source of trouble between you two.”

“Of course I’ll tell him.” She wasn’t one who kept secrets, and Stan should know that. His questions irritated her.

They sat in the back of the theater, and as soon as they were settled in, Olivia took a handful of popcorn.

“You actually like this guy, don’t you?”

With her mouth full, she simply nodded. The truth of it was, she did. Jack was intelligent and argumentative and he had a sense of humor; he challenged her and he made her laugh. He was a bit insecure, too, but she was willing to look past that.

Stan seemed about to ask her another question when the previews started, for which Olivia was grateful. She didn’t want to spend the evening discussing her personal relationships.

After the movie, they stopped for coffee and dessert at the PancakePalace. That had also been part of their date-night routine. But as they sat in the booth across from each other, Olivia was determined not to let Stan sidetrack her, either with nostalgic references or with questions about Jack. He’d contacted her, wanting advice about his marriage. So that was going to be the subject of their conversation.

“Are you and Jack—”

“Wait a minute.” Olivia raised her hand. “Is tonight about you or me?”

Stan lowered his eyes. “Defeat has never come easy to me.”

Olivia had to bite her tongue to keep from reminding him that he’d been the one to pack up and move out of their home. He’d been the one to file for divorce and the one who insisted their marriage was over.

“What happened?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Marge wants out.”

“Why?”

“She says she doesn’t love me anymore—that we had something special once but we don’t now. She’s already filed for divorce.”