1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [67]
It wasn’t Dan that day. It couldn’t have been. Almost a year passed before she learned that her husband wasn’t with another woman. He’d killed himself, unable to let go of a crime he’d committed as a young man serving in Vietnam.
For years after the war he’d periodically sink into black moods, during which he’d lash out at those around him, at those who loved him. Any effort to question or comfort him was met with fierce, uncontrollable anger. After a while, Grace stopped trying. His mood would reverse itself after a few days or weeks and it would be as if nothing had happened. For their entire married life, she’d loved a man who had what was essentially a split personality.
Grace must have fallen asleep because the alarm startled her awake. Her eyes flew open and she sat up and switched it off. Cliff rolled over, pulling the blanket over his shoulder. Leaning down, she kissed his ear. “I’ll start the coffee,” she said.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
She climbed out of bed and grabbed her housecoat. Shrugging into it as she walked to the kitchen, Grace paused at the cardboard box to discover Beau tightly curled up in the receiving blanket Cliff had found for him. “I see the alarm didn’t bother you any,” she whispered.
She waited until there was enough coffee in the pot to fill two mugs, then carried them into the bedroom. Cliff was up and in the shower.
Drinking her coffee as she dressed, she slipped into a long-sleeved polo shirt and a jumper. She wore something similar most days; it was almost a uniform. Cliff took his coffee from the dresser as he strolled out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. The radio was reporting on weather and traffic in the Seattle area. Half listening, she plugged in her curling iron and applied moisturizer to her face.
When Grace had finished putting on makeup and fixing her hair, she saw that Cliff had removed Beau from his box. The puppy had made his way over to one of her fluffy slippers, snuggled inside and gone right back to sleep.
“You have to admit that’s cute,” Cliff said, coming to stand behind her.
“No, I do not. I don’t want that dog in my shoe.”
“Come on, Grace. Hallmark would print a card with a picture like that. Or…how about if I put him on YouTube? He’d be a star. Just look at him.”
“You can look all you want but I have to get to work.”
Cliff shook his head and bent to take Beau from her slipper.
Grace hated to be so coldhearted but she couldn’t lower her guard, not even a little. The instant she did, Beau would wriggle his way into her affections, which was exactly what Cliff and Beth hoped would happen. Grace was determined it wouldn’t.
Half an hour later, after a second cup of coffee and a toasted English muffin, Grace drove to the library with Beau in the box beside her. She had several small bottles of formula, which she’d have to feed him during the day.
Cliff said that if the meetings ended early, he’d come and pick up Beau, but he wasn’t making any promises. She figured she’d be stuck with the puppy all day.
Naturally Beau had everyone on the library staff wrapped around his tiny paw the moment she carried him into the building.
“Anyone want to feed him?” she asked. If she could arrange for someone else to do it, all the better.
Every single employee volunteered. She let them work out a schedule as she retreated to her office and assumed her tasks for the day. Writing the email newsletter that went out to patrons every Monday morning was at the top of her list.
Beth phoned shortly after the library opened. “How’s it going?” she asked.
“It’s going. Cliff named him Beau.”
“I heard.”
So Beth had been in contact with Cliff. If Grace was a paranoid kind of person, she’d wonder if those two were teaming up against her. More than likely Beth had phoned the house and Cliff had answered, then simply forgotten to mention