Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(18)
“Whatever you’re cooking smells great,” he said appreciatively, rubbing his bare hands.
Corrie cradled his face and kissed him loudly on the cheek.
“That was the right thing to say,” Roy told him with a grin. “Not that it isn’t true,” he added swiftly.
Mack guffawed. “Good save, Dad.”
Roy lifted his hand in acknowledgment but didn’t get up. He’d injured his back years before and as a result had taken early retirement from his job with the Seattle police. His back still caused him pain, which he did his best to ignore. Some days he succeeded at that better than others. This was one of his less successful days.
Mack pulled out the ottoman and sat down near his father. “I stopped by the Cedar Cove fire station this afternoon.”
Roy straightened. This was what he’d been waiting to hear. He wanted to ask if Mack had been chosen for the position, but was patient enough to let him make his own announcement.
“Good grief, Mack,” Corrie cried. “Don’t keep us in suspense!”
“The captain said there’s a letter waiting for me in Seattle.”
“Oh.”
Corrie’s obvious disappointment echoed Roy’s. He’d hoped a job in Cedar Cove would bring him and Mack closer. They’d come a long way in the last two years but, as Roy was the first to admit, they still had a long way to go.
“Why the sad looks?” Mack asked. “My application’s been accepted! Effective December fifteenth, I’ll be working for the Cedar Cove Fire Department.”
Corrie covered her mouth with both hands and shrieked with delight.
“Congratulations, son,” Roy said. Leaning forward, he slapped Mack on the shoulder. Despite his more temperate response, he was no less elated than his wife.
Corrie’s eyes gleamed. “Of course you’ll stay with us until you find a place to rent.”
“Actually, no.”
“No?” Corrie frowned. “But…we’re your family. Where else would you live?”
“The thing is, I’ve found a place.”
“So soon?”
“Yes, and it works out great. Would you believe I’ll be living in Linnette’s old apartment? Will Jefferson’s subleting it, and I’m assuming his lease.”
“You?”
“Where’s Will going?” Roy asked. “He’s barely moved in. You mean to say he’s moving out already?”
“He purchased the Harbor Street Art Gallery.”
That was old news. Big news when it happened, because it had looked as if the gallery was about to close its doors for good. No one wanted that. The entire community had breathed a collective sigh of relief when Will Jefferson decided to buy it.
“Yes, we know about Will taking over the gallery,” Corrie said. “He’s not leaving town, is he? After all this, it would be a shame if he turned over the management to someone else.”
“Nothing like that,” Mack explained. “Apparently the gallery has a small apartment that’s been used for storage during the past few years. Will couldn’t see any reason to pay rent when he already has a place he could live.”
“I didn’t know the gallery had an apartment.”
“Me, neither,” Roy said. “It’s got a second story, though, so it doesn’t really surprise me.”
“Up until now it’s been crammed full of junk. Will’s been working all weekend to get it cleared out. At last count he’d made three trips to the garbage dump. He’s having painters come in on Monday.”
“The place could probably use updating, don’t you think?” Corrie asked.
“I’ll help him whenever I can,” Mack said.
From habit Roy nearly spoiled everything by making some disparaging comment about Mack’s carpentry skills. Thankfully, he stopped himself in time. His son was a capable carpenter; not only that, he’d worked as a painter and part-time post-office employee. He’d done a dozen other jobs since he’d dropped out of school.
“Will said he’ll eventually buy his own place, but at this point, he’s content to fix up the apartment.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Roy murmured. “Makes sense to stay on the premises.”
“That’s the cop in you talking, Dad,” Mack said with a laugh.
Corrie laughed, too. “So when are you moving into Linnette’s old apartment?” she asked.
“As soon as I can make the arrangements. The lease is up in a few months and that’ll give me time to decide what I want to do—buy or continue renting.”
“Good idea, son.”
Mack met his eyes and they exchanged a smile. This was progress, real progress, for both of them.
The oven timer went off, and Corrie returned to the kitchen.
“Let me set the table,” Mack offered, following his mother.
Roy reached for the paper but he didn’t see the words in front of him. Instead he pondered the state of his children’s lives. Gloria was doing well. Linnette was going to start a medical clinic in Buffalo Valley, North Dakota. And now Mack was taking on a responsible job with the Cedar Cove Fire Department.
Roy didn’t think life could get much sweeter than this.
Seven