Rosewood Lane (Cedar Cove #2)(31)
When Jack eventually did have a chance, he’d phoned Olivia, dying to see her, dying to take a break from his son’s troubles. He’d hoped that an hour or two with Olivia would rejuvenate his spirits. Instead he’d hit rock bottom when she wasn’t home. He waited around all night for her to return his call. She didn’t until the next morning, and by then he’d left to cover the Christmas Bazaar for the newspaper’s Neighbors Section.
They finally did connect, early the following week, and Jack noticed that her feelings for him appeared to be cooling. It wasn’t anything she said, exactly. Her son-in-law was back from Alaska, and she was working with Charlotte on putting together a wedding reception for Seth and Justine.
Every time he’d talked to Olivia since then, she was busy. Too busy to see him. Even their Tuesday night get-togethers had fallen by the wayside. Just how much trouble could a wedding reception really be? It seemed Olivia constantly needed to run somewhere or talk to someone. Someone other than Jack.
The hustle and bustle of this wedding reception aside, what worried Jack was her changing attitude toward him. Yes, there was a decided cooling. Whenever they managed to chat, Jack braced himself, half expecting her to suggest they break it off. It was this expectation—the feeling that she was looking for a kind way to tell him to take a hike—that prevented him from giving her the bracelet. He was afraid she’d view the expensive gift as a means of manipulating her and so he’d held on to it, not knowing what else to do.
The cursor on his screen continued to blink, and Jack wheeled his chair around, gazing out the window. This wasn’t going to work. He needed an AA meeting and a talk with his sponsor.
He found a meeting near Bangor, but because he was in unfamiliar territory, he sat at the back of the room and listened to the speaker, who had over twenty years of sobriety. At the end of the session, when the group stood, joined hands and said the Lord’s Prayer followed by the Serenity Prayer, Jack’s voice rose and blended with the others. These people were family. They might be strangers but they all shared a problem that bonded them.
On the drive back to the office, Jack stopped at Thyme and Tide, the bed-and-breakfast on the waterfront owned by his sponsor and friend, Bob Beldon, and his wife, Peggy.
Bob was busy tinkering in the garage with one of his woodworking projects when Jack pulled into the driveway. Bob came out of the garage to meet him.
“How’s it going?” Jack asked, not quite ready to launch into his reason for visiting.
“Good. How about you?”
Jack shrugged.
Bob smiled knowingly. “I figure if you’re coming by to see me in the middle of the day, something’s up. Want to talk about it?”
Jack sighed, grateful he didn’t need to lead into the subject delicately. “Have you got a few minutes?”
“Sure. Come on in. Peggy’s visiting her sister, but I’m sure there’s still coffee in the pot.”
Jack was grateful. He was feeling unsettled, and even after ten years without a drink, the urge still came, especially at times like this. The meetings helped, but talking to Bob would give him a sense of perspective. It’d been a long while since the cravings had hit this hard.
“How are things with Eric?” Bob asked, heading into the kitchen. He paused on the back porch and removed his sweater, which he hung on a hook there. Then he led the way into the large, spacious room. Despite its size, the kitchen was warm and inviting, with its oak table, its woven rug on the polished floor and bunches of drying herbs by the window.
“Eric’s still with me. He doesn’t like it any better than I do, but he’s stuck until he can work out this mess between him and Shelly.”
“What’s going on with him and the girl?”
The hell if Jack knew. Twice now, at Jack’s suggestion, Eric had phoned Shelly. Jack had made himself scarce, but it didn’t take a psychic to figure out that the conversations hadn’t gone well. Within minutes the calls were over, leaving Eric more depressed than ever.
“I didn’t come to talk about Eric,” Jack told his friend. “I’ve got a problem with Olivia.”
“What’s up?” Bob silently offered him coffee, which Jack refused. Apparently Bob thought better of it himself and reached inside the refrigerator for a cold soda. Jack declined that, as well.
“I’m crazy about Olivia,” Jack admitted, although this wasn’t news to Bob, who’d encouraged the relationship from the first.
“I know.” Bob opened the soda and leaned against the counter as he waited for Jack to continue.
Jack remained standing, too. Soon he was pacing. “I used to think she felt the same way about me.”
“What changed her mind?”
“That’s just it,” Jack said. “I don’t know. I had to break our dinner date on her birthday when Eric showed up unexpectedly. She seemed to understand, but lately…” He shook his head, unsure how to put into words what he sensed. “I keep thinking she’s had a change of heart and is looking for the right moment to tell me to take a flying leap into some cow pasture.”
Bob considered his words. “So you’re waiting and wondering and making yourself insane, anticipating the end—even though she hasn’t actually said anything about it.”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Jack conceded.