1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [59]
Just when she was about to give up and go home, Bruce appeared, harried and out of breath.
“I wasn’t sure you’d wait,” he said. “But I’m glad you did.” He took hold of her shoulders and brought her close.
“What happened?” she asked, then realized she knew. “Jolene?”
He nodded.
“I thought she was going to a haunted house with some friends tonight.”
“She was… .”
“Until she found out you were meeting me.”
“She got sick.” He rolled his eyes, as though he suspected she was faking.
“But, Bruce, she really could be ill.”
“Trust me, I know when Jolene is sick and this was pretty lame. I told her she’d be fine by herself for a few hours and I’d be back soon.”
“But…”
“Let’s enjoy the movie,” he said, steering her toward the ticket counter and then the refreshment stand. They ordered a large bucket of popcorn, a soda and bottled water for Rachel, joking about the fact that their popcorn and drinks cost more than the movie.
Bruce escorted her into the appropriate theater, where the previews had begun. He tilted the popcorn in her direction, then both of them settled in to watch the film.
Not until it ended and the credits were rolling did Rachel have an opportunity to resume their conversation. Jolene had obviously made a fuss about her father’s date with Rachel. That was discouraging, especially if Jolene was faking illness in order to keep Bruce from seeing her. She found it hard to believe that her stepdaughter would go to such lengths. The one bright spot was that Bruce had recently had his second appointment with the counselor.
“So, how’d it go with Dr. Jenner?” she asked, once they were outside. It was dark by then and raining.
“Fine. I guess. Do you want to go somewhere and talk for a while?”
She wanted that very much. “Shouldn’t you check on Jolene?”
Bruce hesitated. “I asked Anne from next door to look in on her. If there’s something wrong, Anne will call me. I’m not letting Jolene force me into giving up this time with you.” He grinned and reached for her hand. “Dr. Jenner would be proud of me.”
Ten minutes later, they were sitting across from each other in a booth at the Pancake Palace.
Goldie, the long-time waitress, approached their table, coffeepot in hand, menus tucked under her arm. Bruce ordered the club sandwich and Rachel requested a small bowl of seafood chowder. She was full from the popcorn and could’ve gone without dinner, but Bruce wouldn’t hear of it.
“Tell me more about the counselor,” she said.
“Well,” Bruce began. “So far, I’ve done most of the talking. He asked about my relationship with Jolene before you and I were married and what it’s like now.”
“Did Jolene go with you?” Rachel knew it wasn’t likely, and she wasn’t surprised by his answer. “No.”
That would’ve been too much to expect, Rachel acknowledged, although she’d hoped Jolene would have a change of heart.
“You started to tell me what happened this afternoon,” she said. “What—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he broke in. “You won’t tell me where you’re living. Fine. You have your secrets and I have mine. Why should I be the one to spill everything when you—”
“It isn’t exactly a secret,” she protested quickly.
Bruce raised his hand. “You don’t want to tell me, fine.”
Rachel glared at him. She was perfectly willing to let him know she was sharing a house with Nate—but not when he was in this frame of mind. “If that’s the way you want it.”
Neither seemed inclined to continue the conversation.
When Goldie delivered their meals, she set the soup in front of Rachel and the club sandwich by Bruce and then retreated one step. “Are you two not getting along?”
“What makes you ask that?” Rachel murmured.
“Both of you have the same sour look. It’s not a good idea to eat together while you’re arguing. Mel and me have been married for fifty-six years and we never eat or go to bed without resolving our differences.” She snorted. “Seems to me you two should do that, too—otherwise, you’ll end up with stomachaches and blame the restaurant when it’s your own