Cedar Cove Collection (Books 7-12). Debbie Macomber
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it’d be a shame to see all that effort go to waste. Roy had said she’d eventually go back to medicine, and he’d called it right.
“She’s thrilled about this opportunity. You might give her a call later.”
“I might,” he agreed, although it was always Corrie who did the phoning.
Roy had never been comfortable expressing emotion or, for that matter, being on the receiving end. Nevertheless, he loved his wife and his children, all three of them. They made him proud. Even Mack …
There was a knock at the door, but before Corrie could open it, their son stepped into the house. A blast of cold air came in with him.
“Whatever you’re cooking smells great,” he said appreciatively, rubbing his bare hands.
Corrie cradled his face and kissed him loudly on the cheek.
“That was the right thing to say,” Roy told him with a grin. “Not that it isn’t true,” he added swiftly.
Mack guffawed. “Good save, Dad.”
Roy lifted his hand in acknowledgment but didn’t get up. He’d injured his back years before and as a result had taken early retirement from his job with the Seattle police. His back still caused him pain, which he did his best to ignore. Some days he succeeded at that better than others. This was one of his less successful days.
Mack pulled out the ottoman and sat down near his father. “I stopped by the Cedar Cove fire station this afternoon.”
Roy straightened. This was what he’d been waiting to hear. He wanted to ask if Mack had been chosen for the position, but was patient enough to let him make his own announcement.
“Good grief, Mack,” Corrie cried. “Don’t keep us in suspense!”
“The captain said there’s a letter waiting for me in Seattle.”
“Oh.”
Corrie’s obvious disappointment echoed Roy’s. He’d hoped a job in Cedar Cove would bring him and Mack closer. They’d come a long way in the last two years but, as Roy was the first to admit, they still had a long way to go.
“Why the sad looks?” Mack asked. “My application’s been accepted! Effective December fifteenth, I’ll be working for the Cedar Cove Fire Department.”
Corrie covered her mouth with both hands and shrieked with delight.
“Congratulations, son,” Roy said. Leaning forward, he slapped Mack on the shoulder. Despite his more temperate response, he was no less elated than his wife.
Corrie’s eyes gleamed. “Of course you’ll stay with us until you find a place to rent.”
“Actually, no.”
“No?” Corrie frowned. “But … we’re your family. Where else would you live?”
“The thing is, I’ve found a place.”
“So soon?”
“Yes, and it works out great. Would you believe I’ll be living in Linnette’s old apartment? Will Jefferson’s subleting it, and I’m assuming his lease.”
“You?”
“Where’s Will going?” Roy asked. “He’s barely moved in. You mean to say he’s moving out already?”
“He purchased the Harbor Street Gallery.”
That was old news. Big news when it happened, because it had looked as if the gallery was about to close its doors for good. No one wanted that. The entire community had breathed a collective sigh of relief when Will Jefferson decided to buy it.
“Yes, we know about Will taking over the gallery,” Corrie said. “He’s not leaving town, is he? After all this, it would be a shame if he turned over the management to someone else.”
“Nothing like that,” Mack explained. “Apparently the gallery has a small apartment that’s been used for storage during the past few years. Will couldn’t see any reason to pay rent when he already has a place he could live.”
“I didn’t know the gallery had an apartment.”
“Me, neither,” Roy said. “It’s got a second story, though, so it doesn’t really surprise me.”
“Up until now it’s been crammed full of junk. Will’s been working all weekend to get it cleared out. At last count he’d made three trips to the garbage dump. He’s having painters come in on Monday.”
“The place could probably use updating, don’t you think?” Corrie asked.
“I’ll help him whenever I can,” Mack said.
From habit Roy nearly spoiled everything by making some disparaging comment about Mack’s carpentry skills. Thankfully, he stopped himself in time. His son was a capable carpenter; not only that, he’d worked as a painter and part-time post-office employee. He’d done a dozen other jobs since he’d dropped out of school.
“Will said he’ll eventually buy his own place, but at this point, he’s content to fix up the apartment.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Roy murmured. “Makes sense to stay on the premises.”
“That’s the cop in you talking, Dad,” Mack said with a laugh.
Corrie laughed, too. “So when are you moving into Linnette’s old apartment?” she asked.
“As soon as I can make the arrangements. The lease is up in a few months and that’ll give me time to decide what I want to do—buy or continue renting.”
“Good idea, son.”
Mack met his eyes and they exchanged a smile. This was progress, real progress, for both of them.
The oven timer went off, and Corrie returned to the kitchen.
“Let me set the table,” Mack offered, following his mother.
Roy reached for the paper but he didn’t see the words in front of him. Instead he pondered the state of his children’s lives. Gloria was doing well. Linnette was going to start a medical clinic in Buffalo Valley, North Dakota. And now Mack was taking on a responsible job with the Cedar Cove Fire Department.
Roy didn’t think life could get much sweeter than this.
Seven
“She’s going to be fine,” Cliff Harding said, standing behind Grace as she prepared their morning pot of coffee. He placed his big hands on her shoulders in a comforting gesture of love and concern.
Grace pressed her hands over his and wished she felt as confident as he seemed to be. Olivia, her best friend, her life friend, had cancer. The word struck terror in her heart. This wasn’t the first time a friend, someone she cared about, had been diagnosed with breast cancer. But this was Olivia, who was as close to Grace as a sister. They’d been best friends from the moment they’d met in first grade.
They’d seen each other through every life crisis—from Grace’s teenage pregnancy to her first husband’s suicide. From the death of Olivia’s son Jordan to her divorce. They’d been through so much together, nearly every loss a woman could experience. Olivia knew Grace better than anyone. And Grace knew Olivia.
But cancer. Grace wanted to scream, to howl, to weep. She felt helpless, impotent, with no idea what to say or how to support her friend. Her fears for Olivia overwhelmed her.
Cancer was so unfair. It didn’t make sense. This shouldn’t be happening to a woman as conscientious and positive and kindhearted as Olivia. She was the one who watched her diet religiously. She took her vitamins every morning without fail. She exercised and looked after herself emotionally and spiritually. What more could she possibly have done?
“You going to the hospital?” Cliff asked, although