311 Pelican Court - Debbie Macomber [127]
They sat at a small table and Bruce watched his daughter lick away at her blue ice cream. He smiled at her complete absorption. She smiled back, and he thought his heart would stop. In that split second, she resembled her mother so much.
Every now and then, Bruce caught glimpses of Stephanie in their daughter. In the way her eyes flashed with a smile or the way she moved. It never failed to fill him with an immediate sense of loss and regret.
A thousand times or more, he’d gone over that final day of Stephanie’s life. It had seemed an ordinary day. Completely routine. If only he’d known… If only he could go back and relive that morning.
He’d gotten up at seven, as usual, showered and dressed. He’d kissed Stephanie goodbye, never suspecting that in less than ten hours she would be forever taken from him and Jolene.
“Daddy…”
Returning to the present, Bruce looked over at his daughter. “What, sweetheart?”
“I like Rachel.”
“Who’s Rachel?”
“Daddy! The lady who cut my hair.”
“That’s nice,” he replied absently.
“She’s fun.”
“And she does a good job of cutting hair.”
Jolene nodded. “She wants a husband.”
“What?” Bruce nearly laughed out loud.
“A husband,” Jolene said again. “I heard her talking to the lady next to her, and she said she’s almost thirty. That’s old, isn’t it?”
“Not so old,” Bruce assured her, hiding a smile.
“She said she wanted to be married before she was thirty.”
Bruce thought that was a rather personal discussion to be having in a beauty shop, but what did he know about women’s—“I think you should marry her, Daddy.”
“What?”
“You should marry Rachel,” she repeated, as if that was a perfectly reasonable statement.
Twenty-Seven
Maryellen was depressed. She’d been depressed for weeks. She sat in the bleachers at the waterfront park, sheltered from the rain, and sipped hot coffee out of a plastic cup. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees and stared out over the dark waters of the cove.
Originally she’d planned to meet her mother for lunch, but she’d been stuck at the gallery with a late delivery and had to cancel at the last minute. She didn’t have much of an appetite, anyway, and appreciated this time alone so she could think. Lois Habbersmith, her assistant and friend, had seemed to sense this and hurried her out the door.
Maryellen had walked down to the waterfront, which was one of her favorite spots. In the summer the city sponsored Thursday night Concerts on the Cove, and the park and every bit of available space would be filled. She’d always loved the music, the laughter, the atmosphere of infectious gaiety.
This afternoon Maryellen felt little of that carefree summertime energy. She’d lost Jon. It was what she deserved for the despicable way she’d treated him. She’d explained her reasons, but apparently he couldn’t forgive her.
That was understandable, she supposed. Her experience with men was limited to one dreadful marriage and a father who’d walked through life in a state of emotional paralysis. There were happy childhood memories, but they were few and far between.
“Lois said I’d find you here.”
Jon’s voice broke into her dark musings and startled Maryellen. She nearly dropped her coffee.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“I’m just surprised.” And happy to see him, so happy it was all she could do not to smile and gush and make an idiot of herself. All three of which she’d managed to do any number of times.
Jon walked up the steps and sank onto the bleacher beside her. He didn’t say anything for a long while. She didn’t, either, and then she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“I want to tell you something,” she murmured. “It’s all right, you know.”
“What’s all right?”
She held her breath, then blurted it out. “That you’re involved with someone else. I don’t have any claim on you and—”
“Who told you that?”
“No one,” she said, not looking at him.