204 Rosewood Lane - Debbie Macomber [91]
“When’s Will flying out?”
“He left this afternoon. I’m going to miss him.” Olivia gave a deep sigh. “Despite the circumstances, this was a good trip. It’s been a long time since the two of us had a chance to visit.”
“Maybe he’ll consider vacationing here more often,” Grace said.
“I hope he does. Will’s a wonderful man.”
“I think so, too.”
Olivia stood for a moment, frowning.
“What’s that look for?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head as though to dispel her thoughts. “Let’s get this show on the road,” she said, urging Grace toward the room where the aerobics class was held.
Most Wednesdays, Grace enjoyed this class. She’d reluctantly agreed to it when Olivia had asked her a year earlier; she wasn’t athletically inclined and had never enjoyed exercising. What made it tolerable was knowing she could count on seeing her best friend at least once a week. But because the class was demanding, the only opportunities they had to talk were before and after the workout. Sometimes they found themselves standing in the parking lot, chatting for an hour or more.
That night, by the time class was over, Grace had worked up a sweat. Thank goodness for the cool-down exercises, she thought; her heart was pounding furiously. Olivia’s face was red and her hair drenched. She’d driven herself harder than ever, working out her frustrations over Jack, Grace suspected.
“I needed that,” Olivia said as they made their way back to the ladies’ locker room. “I’m still so mad at Jack I could spit.”
“It isn’t just Jack,” Grace told her. “It’s everything. You’re worried about Justine and the baby. Your mother just had major surgery, and there’s all the emotional turmoil around that. Now Jack’s acting like a hurt little boy because he found you and Will and Stan having dinner one night and he wasn’t invited.”
Olivia wiped her face with a towel and reached for her shampoo.
“You’re being pulled from every side,” Grace went on. “Your mother, your daughter and Jack.”
“You’re right, I am,” Olivia admitted. She looped the towel around her neck. “That’s exactly the way I feel.” She sat down on the bench and sighed. “I really am worried about Justine, but she won’t listen to me. She thinks I’m an old fuddy-duddy because I’m concerned that she’s doing too much while she’s in the early stages of her pregnancy.”
“And then there’s Jack.”
“Ah, yes, Jack.” Olivia’s voice softened somewhat. “I feel bad about our fight. I lost my temper.”
“Call him,” Grace said. “My guess is he’ll be thrilled to hear from you.”
Olivia considered the suggestion a moment, then shook her head. “Not yet. Give me time to calm down and I might reconsider.”
“Want to go out for dinner?” She wouldn’t have offered, since her budget was tight these days, but she knew Olivia still needed to talk.
“Come to my place. I’ve got plenty of leftovers. Mom’s friends made her enough meals to last a month. There’s a huge dish of broccoli lasagna.”
“You’re on.” Grace so seldom cooked meals anymore that anything homemade sounded heavenly.
Two hours later, lulled by a tasty meal, a glass of red wine and the sweet alto voice of Anne Murray, they sat in Olivia’s living room. Charlotte was sound asleep in the back bedroom.
Relaxed, Grace accepted a second glass of wine and closed her eyes. “What would you think if I called Jack?” she asked. “We used to do that in high school, remember? If I had an argument with my boyfriend, you’d call and smooth the way for me.”
Olivia giggled softly, sitting beside Grace on the sofa. “Of course I remember, but it sounds a bit juvenile, don’t you think?”
“And your point is?” Grace asked.
Olivia laughed. “Go ahead. See what he says.”
Grace didn’t need to be told twice. This was silly, but fun, too. Olivia gave her the portable phone and Grace found Jack’s number on speed dial, then waited for the phone to ring.
Just before Jack answered, she changed her mind and passed