92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [60]
“You can’t blame yourself,” Charlotte countered quickly, “any more than I can blame myself for Will’s…weaknesses.”
Ben seemed to agree with her. “Intellectually I know you’re right, but that doesn’t wipe out the regrets.”
Charlotte identified with his sorrow. When she’d learned how Will had taken advantage of Grace Sherman, how he’d lied and misled her, she’d been horrified. Acknowledging character flaws in one’s child was a dull ache in a parent’s heart.
“Besides, Will’s straightened out his life,” Ben said. “It sure looks like it, anyway.”
Charlotte fervently hoped that was the case, but she couldn’t be positive. He’d never shown her that deceitful side of himself. Outwardly he was the perfect son but she couldn’t ignore the less-than-salutary aspects of his behavior.
“I talked to him recently,” she said, “and the gallery seems to be doing well. It’s good to see him excited about what’s happening there.”
“I heard he’s seeing Shirley Bliss.”
Charlotte had heard that bit of local gossip, too. The artist had immediately caught her son’s eye. She hoped this relationship was right for them.
Ben wandered back to the living room and his paper, and Charlotte continued her cooking. After she’d placed the bottom crusts in three different casserole dishes, she made the gravy and added the cut-up chicken and sautéed vegetables. When she’d finished, she poured the mixture into the piecrusts, arranged the strips of lattice on top and set all three dishes in the oven.
She threw a load of laundry in the washer, then joined Ben in the living room. He was doing the crossword puzzle and she sat across from him and picked up her knitting. For forty-five minutes they worked quietly while the pies baked, lost in their own thoughts.
Just before eleven-thirty, Charlotte removed the hot dishes from the oven, put on her coat and retrieved her purse. This was the first potluck she and Ben hadn’t attended as a couple since they were married.
Ben carried the warm chicken pie to the car and kissed her before she left. “Have a good time.”
She kissed him back. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“No need to rush. Harry and I will hold the fort.”
Despite his encouragement to linger and visit with their friends, Charlotte returned to the house two hours later, her head buzzing.
Ben met her at the door and took the empty casserole dish from her hands. “Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Oh, yes, I always do. Everyone asked after you and I said you were a bit under the weather.” Thankfully, she’d managed to sidestep other questions. A number of their friends had pressed her for details, certain Ben must be suffering from a nasty virus currently going around. She’d reassured everyone that Ben was fine, and physically he was. Emotionally, that was another story.
He brought the empty dish to the kitchen sink and looked at her, frowning slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing’s wrong, but I do have some interesting news.”
“Sit down and tell me.”
Charlotte pulled out a kitchen chair. “Sheriff Davis stopped by to speak to the group,” she said.
Ben reached for the notice mailed once a month to seniors who belonged to the center. Charlotte had propped it on the kitchen table. He quickly scanned the details. “It says here that Grace was supposed to be the guest speaker.”
“Oh, she was, and she did a fabulous job.” Although Charlotte volunteered at the library, it never ceased to astonish her how many books she hadn’t noticed. “Grace was kind enough to bring in a box of bestsellers and she gave a short synopsis of each. Oh, Ben, they all sound like such good stories. I made a list of several I knew we’d both enjoy.”
“When did Sheriff Davis speak?”
“After Grace. He came by unexpectedly and asked to address the group.” Troy visited once or twice a year but generally as a scheduled speaker. Charlotte had always been fond of him and appreciated his tips for seniors.
“What did he have to say? Another warning about not giving out personal information over the phone?”
“Not this time. He asked for our help.”
“How so?”
Charlotte drew her chair closer