92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [35]
Grace laughed. “Can’t you picture it? Chef Charlotte making muffins and chatting up celebrity guests.” She removed her scarf and unfastened her coat, then folded it over the back of her chair. “She’d be terrific. And she can make anything taste wonderful.”
Olivia nodded, smiling. “She believes in cooking with quality ingredients—and love.”
“I’ve only seen your mother in passing since the cruise. She had a good time?”
“She did. Ben, too, although they were hit with the news about David’s baby the minute they got home, which upset them both.”
“That’s too bad,” Grace said, her voice grim. She blamed David, maybe not for the pregnancy, since both partners had played a role in that, but he’d clearly lied to the poor girl about his intentions. And his behavior afterward had been appalling—his refusal to acknowledge the baby or accept his responsibilities as a father.
“I think this is the final straw as far as Ben is concerned,” Olivia said, smoothing her napkin across her lap. “Apparently he’s only spoken to David once since they got home from the cruise. He told Mom that if David phones again, he doesn’t want to talk to him.”
“I can understand why Ben’s so upset.”
“So can I,” Olivia said. “He’s taking this hard. Ben’s such an honorable man that his son’s behavior—deceiving and deluding a sweet girl like Mary Jo—makes it all the more painful.” She shook her head. “I didn’t stop by to discuss David, though. The subject depresses me.”
“Me, too.”
“Did I tell you what Mom’s been doing lately?”
“You mean other than visiting you?” Grace joked. It was common knowledge that Charlotte made a habit of checking up on Olivia every few days.
“She’s been collecting all her favorite recipes for Justine’s tearoom. Which means she’s writing some of them down for the very first time.”
Grace had driven past the construction site that morning and was astonished by the progress that had been made in the past month. “The building’s really coming along, isn’t it?”
“When my daughter wants something, she tends to get it.”
“She’s another Charlotte in the making.”
“That and more,” Olivia said. “She’s starting a brand-new business, balancing that with looking after her family and getting ready for the baby…”
“How’s she feeling?”
“Very well, she says. She’s just begun to show. I hope she has a girl this time.” Olivia hesitated as if she’d suddenly realized what she’d said. “Of course we’d welcome another grandson with equal enthusiasm.”
“Of course you would.”
“How are your girls?” Olivia asked.
“Maryellen and Kelly are doing great.”
The door opened at that moment and in walked Sheriff Troy Davis. He touched the brim of his hat when he saw them, a habitual gesture of his, then stepped up to the counter and ordered coffee to go.
As Grace was filling Olivia in on the latest news about her grandchildren, Troy came to their table, clutching his take-out mug.
“Nice to see you both,” he said. He frowned at the wool cap Olivia wore, then quickly glanced away.
Grace could see that Olivia was trying to squelch a smile. “Hey, Sheriff, don’t be so worried. I’ll live.”
“Glad to hear it. So, what are you two doing here at—” he looked pointedly at his watch “—the middle of the afternoon?”
“I’m on leave,” Olivia said, although she knew he was well aware of that.
“I’m having a late lunch,” Grace added.
He motioned toward the front window. “Is that your vehicle in the disabled parking space?”
“Ah…my car?”
“I guess you didn’t see the sign.”
“Oh, dear. Did you give me a ticket?” Usually she was more observant than this.
“No, but I’d advise you to move it before one of my deputies does.”
Grace scooped up her purse, grateful for the warning. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” Troy said. He seemed to be watching her as she left.
Grace saw that as soon as she was out the door, Troy slid into her seat. Not until she reached her vehicle did she realize the disabled space was one down from where she