92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [70]
She sat at the sewing machine, pale and slumped. Grace struggled to hide her reaction. Olivia’s bald head glistened in the light and around her shoulders she wore a prayer shawl knit by one of the ladies from church.
“Did you tell me you were coming by?” Olivia asked in puzzlement, as if she must have forgotten. “For heaven’s sake, why are you dressed like that?” She gestured at Grace’s torn jeans and faded Mariners sweatshirt.
“Come outside and see for yourself.”
“See what?”
“I’d rather show than tell,” Grace persisted.
Olivia got slowly to her feet, correcting her balance as she did, then trailed Grace into the front room. The door was wide open.
“What’s going on out here?” Olivia asked.
“Come and see.” Grace ushered her out. On the front lawn, pitchforks and shovels in hand, stood Peggy, Corrie and Faith. They’d emptied the truck bed; boxes of annuals and perennials lay spread about the lawn.
“What’s everyone doing with all those flowers?” Olivia asked.
“You mean you can’t guess?”
Olivia looked at Grace for an explanation. “No.”
“We’re here to spruce up your yard and bring a bit of spring,” Grace said.
Olivia blinked rapidly, but couldn’t fend off the tears that filled her eyes.
“Coming through!” Jack said, carrying a huge box from the trunk of Charlotte and Ben’s car, Ben on his heels with an equally large carton. Both were packed with containers and covered bowls.
“Your mother provided lunch.”
Olivia seemed to have trouble speaking. “Oh…oh, my goodness,” she finally murmured. “Whose idea was this?“
“Who do you think?” Jack said, joining them on the porch. He slid one arm around Olivia’s thin shoulders and drew her close.
“Grace. Oh, Grace.” Olivia reached for her hand and squeezed tightly.
“Now, go back inside where it’s warm,” Grace said urgently. “We’ve got things to do out here. We’ll call you when we’re done so you can inspect our work.”
Olivia dashed away tears and nodded.
As soon as she was safely back in the house, Grace and company began their task. With everyone pitching in, it took only an hour to get the flower beds weeded and planted.
Peggy, an experienced gardener, turned the soil and added mulch before Corrie inserted the tender plants into the rich-looking earth.
With Jack’s assistance, Grace and Faith set the flower boxes on the ledge around the front porch and arranged ivy and pansies in each.
Charlotte and Ben were inside, getting everything ready for lunch.
Just as they broke off before going in to eat, Sheriff Davis’s patrol car turned the corner and stopped directly across the street. He got out, strolling toward them. “I received word of a disturbance on Lighthouse Road,” he said in mock-serious tones.
Everyone laughed, but although he’d addressed the whole group, his eyes sought out Faith. Grace glanced over at her companion, whose face was flushed with what Grace assumed was pleasure.
The last she’d heard, they’d ended their relationship. Judging by Faith’s heightened color and the intense look in Troy’s eyes, there’d been some kind of reconciliation. However, neither seemed prepared to speak.
Grace thought it was time to intervene. “Hello, Sheriff,” she said, pulling off her gloves. “What can we do for you?”
“I came by to see if there was any way I could help. I, uh, heard about what you’re doing and I’d like to be part of it.”
“We’ve got everything under control, but thanks for the offer.”
“We were about to stop for lunch,” Jack said. “Care to join us?”
Troy hung back. “Are you sure there’s enough?” he asked uncertainly.
“Charlotte did the cooking,” Jack told him. “So, trust me, there’s more than enough.”
“In that case, thanks. I’d like to.”
“Good,” Grace said with genuine happiness—a feeling visibly shared by Faith. She wondered what had happened to change things