204 Rosewood Lane - Debbie Macomber [95]
In the end, much to Grace’s delight, Kelly agreed.
Friday evening, the three of them took the Bremerton ferry into Seattle and got a taxi at the waterfront. The young driver, clearly a recent immigrant, leapt out of the cab and opened the door for them, then hurried around to the driver’s seat.
This was an adventure for Grace, and she was determined to spend a memorable weekend with her two beautiful daughters. “It’s a pleasure to have such a gentlemanly driver,” Grace told him, her spirits high.
“Thank you, Mrs.,” he returned as he drove away from the dock. His English was broken but they all made an effort to understand his comments and questions about the city. He headed to the hotel on Fourth Avenue and pulled alongside the curb, where the doorman stepped forward to open the car door.
Grace paid the driver and added a healthy tip. “Welcome to America,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said and bowed his head. “God bless America.”
“God bless America,” she repeated.
The hotel lobby was plush and expansive, with a huge marble pedestal in the center boasting the biggest floral arrangement Grace had ever seen. They walked leisurely to the registration desk and checked in; Grace managed not to wince when she handed over her VISA card. A few minutes later they were escorted to their room by the bellman.
After Kelly had phoned to check on Tyler, she relaxed. This was the first time she’d been away from her son for more than a few hours and she missed her baby.
Sitting on one of the queen-size beds, her youngest daughter wrapped her arms around her knees. “Do you have names picked out yet?” she asked her sister.
There was a tense moment before Maryellen answered. “Not really… Actually, I’m hoping for a girl and if the baby does happen to be one, I was thinking of naming her Catherine Grace.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
Grace felt tears prick her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away, not wanting to subdue the evening’s mood by getting sentimental and weepy. She so longed for this weekend to be perfect. She wanted to laugh with her daughters, to talk and reclaim the closeness they’d once shared.
When Dan disappeared, the three women had lost more than a husband and father; their sense of family and security had been damaged. For herself, Grace needed answers but at this point it didn’t matter what those answers were.
In the meantime, it was as if they were holding their collective breath. They’d been left suspended between what they knew and what they didn’t. There were no answers to account for Dan’s disappearance—just doubts and questions. Because of this, a rift had slowly developed between them. It was that rift Grace was trying to heal.
They woke early the next morning, eager to explore and play tourist. They started with the Pike Place Market, eating hot rolls and drinking exotic blends of coffee on the street. They walked between long stalls, laden with every kind of fruit and vegetable. Grace liked the seafood stands the best. Fish, crab, shrimp, clams and scallops were displayed on beds of crushed ice. They cheered with the rest of the crowd as the fishmongers tossed large salmon to one another.
They ate lunch on the waterfront under gray, overcast skies. Next they toured the Seattle Aquarium and saw the Imax film of the eruption of Mt. Saint Helens, a tourist favorite. By the end of the day, they were giddy with exhaustion. No one was eager to go out again, so they ordered pizza, which was delivered to their hotel room. They sat on the beds, ate with their hands and laughed over paying an outrageous three dollars for a single can of soda out of the room’s mini-bar.
Despite being tired, they stayed up, dressed in their pajamas and robes, and talked away the night. Each avoided the subject of Dan and all the conjecture that surrounded his disappearance. Nor did they discuss Maryellen’s pregnancy, other