74 Seaside Avenue. Debbie Macomber

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74 Seaside Avenue - Debbie Macomber


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Sherman Harding cradled the sleeping infant in her arms. The overwhelming love she felt for this tiny being was almost more than a single heart could hold. This was her new grandson: Drake Joseph Bowman. She smiled; that was quite a handle for such a small baby.

      She’d experienced the same sense of wonder when she’d held Tyler and Katie as newborns.

      “Is he still sleeping?” Maryellen asked, bringing two glasses of lemonade into the living room.

      “Oh, Maryellen, he’s so precious.” This had been a difficult pregnancy for her daughter. Maryellen had spent the last five months bedridden. Both Grace and Cliff had done what they could to help, but it wasn’t enough. Thankfully, Jon’s parents had come from Oregon and were able to visit every day; otherwise, Grace didn’t know how Maryellen and Jon would’ve managed. Not with a three-year-old underfoot and Jon working all hours to support his family.

      “Drake was worth every second of discomfort,” Maryellen said.

      “How’s Katie doing?” Grace asked.

      Maryellen sat down on the sofa opposite Grace’s chair. “She’s enthralled with being a big sister. Jon and I were afraid she’d show signs of jealousy. But so far, she hasn’t.”

      “Good.” The baby’s eyes fluttered open and he stared up at Grace. Some might say she was imagining things, but she was sure he’d smiled at her. Grace smiled back. “Hello, handsome boy.”

      “I see he’s awake and I’ll bet he’s hungry,” Maryellen said. “He probably needs a diaper change, too.” She reached for her son, and Grace watched as Maryellen changed him out of a soggy diaper into a fresh one.

      “How’s Kelly doing?” Maryellen asked when she’d finished.

      Grace’s younger daughter was due in the next two weeks.

      “She envies you,” Grace said wryly. “She’s definitely ready for this baby to be born.”

      “The last two weeks of this pregnancy were the longest of my life,” Maryellen said as she nestled her son to her breast.

      It was a joy to see her daughter this content. Suddenly Grace felt an intense sadness that took her completely by surprise. Dan was missing so much. Her first husband had been dead for six years now. After his disappearance, Grace had met Cliff Harding; once Dan’s body was recovered—with his suicide note—she’d allowed herself to find happiness in loving Cliff. Earlier that year, she’d finally married him.

      When Dan had first gone missing, Grace had been sure she’d never feel contentment again. She didn’t sleep, didn’t eat and was scarcely able to function. Only recently had she begun to understand the kinds of demons that had chased her husband and compelled him into such a drastic solution.

      Kelly had always been close to her father, and his disappearance had been hardest on her. She’d been pregnant with Tyler at the time, utterly convinced her father would return for the birth of his first grandchild. Until the very end, Kelly had believed Dan would have a perfectly rational explanation for disappearing.

      “Mom?” Maryellen said. “Is something wrong?”

      Grace smiled despite her sadness. “I was thinking about your father and how proud he would’ve been of his grandchildren.”

      Maryellen looked away and, when she turned back, her eyes brimmed with tears. “I think about Dad a lot. I miss him. I didn’t expect I would…. I was so furious with him for what he did. Now … now I’m not. I just feel so sad for him and what he’s missing.”

      Grace leaned forward. “I miss him, too. We’ll never fully understand why he chose suicide, and there’s no point in trying to find a logical reason. He wasn’t himself.” And hadn’t been for years, she thought but didn’t say.

      “I know.”

      Grace heard sounds from upstairs indicating that Katie had awakened from her nap. “I’ll get her,” she told Maryellen, wiping the tears from her own cheeks as she walked up the stairs to collect her granddaughter.

      Still tired and a little cranky, Katie crawled into her grandmother’s arms and pressed her cheek against Grace’s shoulder. Moving carefully on the steps, Grace carried her granddaughter back to the living room. She settled down on the sofa again and held Katie close.

      “I heard the art gallery isn’t doing so well,” Maryellen said. She met her mother’s gaze. “Lois phoned the other day and said sales are way down.”

      Lois Habbersmith had taken over as manager when Maryellen had to quit. Grace knew that Maryellen had always had reservations about Lois’s ability to cope with the job’s responsibilities. Her daughter’s instincts had proved to be right. Lois was overwhelmed, and the gallery seemed to be suffering. Grace hated to see all of Maryellen’s hard work erode.

      It was at the gallery that her daughter had met Jon Bowman. What a blessing he’d been to Maryellen—to the whole family.

      “There’s talk that the gallery might have to close,” Maryellen murmured. Grace recognized frustration as well as sadness in her daughter’s voice.

      “That would be a real pity.”

      “I think so, too, but I can’t go back to work.” Maryellen sighed. “I’d like to, but it’s impossible. Besides, I’m managing Jon’s career now. With two children under four, plus getting Jon’s photographs out to the various agents, I have all I can deal with.”

      “I know,” her mother said. “The gallery’s not your obligation anymore.”

      “It’s just that I put so much time and energy into the place,” Maryellen said regretfully. “It really bothers me to see it failing. I’m positive that, given half a chance, it could be profitable again.”

      Grace believed that, too. None of the artists her daughter had worked with depended on income from The Harbor Street Gallery as their sole support. But sales there had supplemented many of the local artists’ revenue, including Jon’s.

      Katie squirmed down from her lap, and Grace took her into the kitchen to let the little girl choose her own afternoon snack. Katie decided on a graham cracker and juice.

      When she returned, Maryellen had finished nursing Drake. “Olivia came by yesterday with a gift for the baby.”

      Olivia and Grace had been best friends nearly their entire lives. Before Grace could comment, her daughter continued. “She said something interesting.” Maryellen studied her closely.

      Grace had a feeling she already knew what this was about. “Does it have to do with Will Jefferson?”

      Maryellen nodded.

      Slowly expelling her breath, Grace sat down. Will was Olivia’s older brother. In high school Grace had a huge crush on Will, but he’d hardly known she was alive. He’d gone off to college, married and moved to Atlanta. She’d married Dan and stayed in Cedar Cove.

      Decades later, after Dan’s death, Will had contacted Grace to tell her how sorry he was. Their e-mail relationship had started out innocently enough. Then it turned into an affair in every sense but the physical—and that would’ve happened within a matter of weeks. Grace wasn’t blameless by any means; she knew Will was married. He’d lied, though, and said he was divorcing his wife, Georgia. Because she so badly wanted to believe him, she’d agreed to meet him in New Orleans, where they planned to share a hotel room. She was mortified when she’d learned, quite by accident, that Will had no intention of leaving his wife—for her or for any other reason. Fortunately, she’d found out before she went to Louisiana.

      That betrayal had nearly destroyed Grace’s relationship with Cliff Harding. Over time, he’d forgiven her for the pain she’d brought him. Now she considered herself the luckiest woman in the world to be his wife.

      “Olivia told me he’s divorced—and that he’s moving back to Cedar Cove,” Maryellen


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