92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [84]
“I never expected a woman to propose to me, but seeing that you have…”
“Did I completely throw you?” she asked.
She had, although Linc wouldn’t admit it. “Do you want an answer now?”
“Please.”
He took a quick breath. “Okay. I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”
Lori’s smile lit up her whole face as she grabbed his arm. “I can’t believe we’re doing this! It’s crazy!”
“I guess it is.”
She rested her head against his shoulder and expelled her breath, as if some great weight had been lifted from her.
“Then we’re getting married,” he said.
“We’re getting married,” she repeated.
“Soon?” he asked.
“Soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ben was feeling—and acting—more like his old self lately, which greatly relieved Charlotte. She knew he’d spoken with David twice in the past few weeks. While the first call had disturbed him, he’d been less agitated after the second one. In the days that followed, his mood had lightened considerably.
Ben hadn’t shared any of that conversation with her but Charlotte knew he’d contacted Roy McAfee shortly afterward. At first Charlotte was disappointed that Ben hadn’t confided in her. Since then, she’d worked it out in her mind. Thoughtful man that he was, Ben didn’t want to involve her in this latest mess with his son.
“Ben,” she called, fussing with her hat in front of the mirror. She so seldom wore a hat these days, but this was a celebration and nothing said that better than a nice hat. In their last conversation, Olivia had told her she’d decided on a hat, too—for different reasons, obviously—but this was also why Charlotte was wearing hers. To make sure her daughter didn’t feel self-conscious. Olivia had a lovely wig, but found it hot and uncomfortable, so her family and friends urged her to go without.
“Are you ready to leave?” she asked Ben.
“The grand opening’s not for almost an hour,” he called back.
Charlotte secured the fedora with a fancy pin that had belonged to her mother. “Ben, darling, I don’t want to be late.”
“Charlotte,” he said, joining her in their bedroom. “It’ll only take five minutes to get to the tearoom.”
“But there might be a crowd.”
Ben hugged her around the waist. “Very well, my dear, if it’ll reassure you, we can leave now.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
After months of construction, her granddaughter’s Victorian Tea Room was about to open. The pink building with the lavender trim was the talk of the town, and that wasn’t surprising. There’d never been a place in Cedar Cove like it.
In preparation for her granddaughter’s venture, Charlotte had collected her most cherished recipes. Ben had helped her type them. Then, with no small amount of fanfare, they’d delivered the binder to Justine. Charlotte was delighted to see that a number of her recipes had been included in the tearoom menu.
Charlotte sprayed on some cologne—Evening in Paris, her lifelong favorite. Just as she’d finished, she heard the doorbell. What terrible timing!
When she walked into the living room, she saw Roy McAfee, coat still on, briefcase in hand, talking to Ben.
“Roy, how nice to see you,” she said politely.
She waited for Ben to announce that they were leaving for the tearoom. Family and close friends were gathering there before it opened for a blessing ceremony. Pastor Flemming would invoke God’s blessings on this enterprise, and Charlotte didn’t want to miss a second of it. But instead of deferring Roy’s visit, her husband invited him to take a seat.
“We won’t be long,” Ben said, apparently guessing her thoughts.
“Would you like me to make coffee?” she asked the two men.
“No, thanks,” Roy said. “I just need to give Ben a report.”
It was clear that Ben had hired Roy to check up on something and that something undoubtedly concerned David.
Ben gestured to the empty space on the sofa. “Join us, please.”
Charlotte sat down beside him. He reached for her hand, holding it tight. She could feel how tense he was, how weary of dealing with David and his problems, and gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze.
“As you’re probably aware,” Roy