50 Harbor Street - Debbie Macomber [60]
“In other words, you don’t have one.”
“In other words, you’re right.”
They both laughed and it felt good. Christmas was four days away and she was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with her girls and then go to Cliff’s late Christmas morning. But Grace found she was having second thoughts about seeing Cliff at all.
“What are we going to do?” Olivia asked. “Jack will think it’s very clever of me to buy him a treadmill, but I can’t make him exercise. Nor can I keep him away from double bacon cheeseburgers.”
“I can’t make Cliff love me.”
That comment obviously shook Olivia. “Cliff does love you,” she insisted.
Grace used to believe that, too, but these days she wasn’t so sure. “We had a wonderful Thanksgiving, but now we’re in a rut. Being with me seems more of a burden than a joy. Our date last Saturday was an obligation he felt he had to fulfill. I certainly didn’t enjoy myself and I doubt he did, either.”
“So what’s next?”
That was a question worth contemplating. “I wish I knew.”
“Just promise me you won’t do anything until after Christmas.”
Grace made a wry face. “Here’s how Christmas will go. I’ll arrive at Cliff’s around noon, make dinner and then knit while he falls asleep in front of the television.” She’d wash the dinner dishes, kiss him goodbye and let herself out. She might as well stay home with her dog and cat; Buttercup and Sherlock were frequently better company. “Some time the next morning,” Grace concluded her scenario, “Cliff will phone and apologize and then we’ll start all over again.”
“Cliff needs his cage rattled,” Olivia suggested, tapping her finger against her lips.
“That sounds ominous.”
“You feel like you’re married but don’t have any of the benefits? Then tell him you want to marry him.”
“You think I should propose?”
“Yes,” Olivia said. “That should wake him up.”
“I want to get Cliff’s attention, not give him a heart attack.”
“Force him to make a decision—a commitment.”
Grace could just imagine the look on his face, but maybe Olivia was right. It was time to either make that commitment or walk away. However, Grace didn’t know if she had the courage to follow through on any kind of ultimatum.
“Well?” Olivia pressed.
“I don’t know.”
“You’ve got to do something,” Olivia said firmly, scraping up the last of her pie.
That was true enough, but suggesting marriage seemed rather drastic. “I’m afraid,” she admitted after a thoughtful moment.
“What are you afraid of?” Olivia asked.
Grace set her fork aside and picked up her coffee, then put it down again. “I don’t know.” That wasn’t the complete truth. She knew. Her biggest fear was that Cliff would tell her he had no marriage plans. Or none with her, anyway.
“Grace?” Olivia stretched her arm across the table and squeezed her hand. “You’ve gone pale.”
She managed a shaky smile. “I’m still waiting for the effects of that pie to kick in.”
“Are you going to do it?” Olivia asked.
Grace took a deep breath. “I believe I will. It’s time I learned where I stand with Cliff.”
Twenty-Four
Christmas morning Maryellen woke cozy and warm in bed with her husband’s arms around her. She sighed happily and turned to face him.
“Merry Christmas,” she whispered, and discovered that Jon had raised himself on one elbow, looking down at her. His eyes brimmed with love as he leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“Merry Christmas,” he echoed. “How do you feel?”
“I don’t know yet.” She lifted her head tentatively and waited a moment. All seemed well. Her stomach hadn’t immediately started to heave and that was a good sign. This pregnancy wasn’t as difficult as the last, the infant son she’d miscarried. This time, she’d been experiencing some morning nausea but it wasn’t debilitating.
Jon remained fearful that it’d been a mistake to get pregnant so soon. That was irrelevant now. She hadn’t tricked him; he knew she wasn’t using birth control and it was bound to happen sooner or later. He’d just assumed, as she did, that it would be later. When it turned out not to be, Maryellen was surprised herself—and overjoyed.