Debbie Macomber - 1105 Yakima Street

“Will I, Dad? When’s the last time I changed my mind about anything? When’s the last time you convinced me to back down?”

His hesitation was answer enough.

“Listen, Lori …”

“Goodbye, Daddy,” she said softly, and disconnected. With a hiccuping sigh, Lori dropped her cell phone back inside her purse. Then, as if she’d suddenly realized he was right behind her, she walked into Linc’s embrace and hugged him hard.

Linc hugged her back. “I wish you’d talked to me before you did that.” Linc knew what it was like to be without parents. He didn’t fully grasp how important a father and mother could be until he’d lost his own.

“You’re the only family I need now.”

“Oh, Lori …”

“We have to move,” she said. She straightened and rubbed her moist eyes.

“Yes, well, that could be a problem,” Linc felt compelled to tell her. He’d known a move was imminent after his last dreadful confrontation with his father-in-law. The problem was, they didn’t have enough funds to make a security deposit, plus the first and last month’s rent. Even with Lori’s salary from a high-end women’s clothing store in Silverdale, they didn’t have the amount they required. Or anything close to it. Her income covered groceries and daily necessities. And the apartment had been rent-free.

“Where do you suggest we find a new place when our bank account is hovering around zero?”

“What about moving back to Seattle?”

Linc had thought of that earlier but he hated the idea of bringing his wife into the same house as his two younger brothers. He enjoyed his privacy and feared Mel and Ned would see Lori as another Mary Jo, expecting her to take care of the cooking and cleaning the way their sister had. Not that he’d allow it to happen.

“The commute would be difficult for you.”

“I’ll change jobs,” Lori said.

“You love your job,” he reminded her.

She nodded. “I’d miss it, but I’ll do whatever I have to.”

They were both silent for a moment. “No matter what it costs, Linc, we have to leave this apartment.”

Lori was right, and he couldn’t dispute that. The sooner they found a new place, the better.

Rachel wasn’t sure that seeing Bruce was a good idea. He’d been persistent, however, and after several conversations about it, she’d finally given in. They’d agreed to meet at the Pancake Palace after work. When she arrived, a few minutes late, Bruce’s car was already parked out front; he’d probably shown up right at five. She wondered if he’d told Jolene where he was going, and doubted he had. Bruce liked to keep the peace. After all, he’d let his daughter take charge of his life and their marriage. Rachel was astonished that she’d stuck around as long as she had. The situation was emotionally unhealthy for all three of them.

Rachel parked several spots down from his car, hesitated for a moment, half tempted to flee, and then locked up. When she entered the restaurant she saw Bruce immediately. He’d chosen a booth facing the door. He smiled as he stood to greet her. Funny how a simple smile could affect her so strongly. She smiled back, accepted his kiss on the cheek and slid into the booth across from him.

“Hi,” he said eagerly, his eyes filled with longing. He stretched his arms across the table and clasped her hands as if he needed to touch her. “You look fantastic.” “Thanks.” She’d taken extra care with her hair and makeup, although she tried not to have high expectations about this meeting.

“You’re feeling better?” he asked. “No problems with the pregnancy?”

“None,” she assured him.

“Everything okay at work?”

She nodded. The past five days, following the fiasco at the salon, had been relatively calm. Jane hadn’t been happy with her afterward, and Rachel couldn’t blame her, but fortunately there’d been no further reference to it.

One night recently when she hadn’t been able to sleep, Rachel had gotten up for a glass of milk and found Nate in the kitchen. They’d talked for almost an hour. He’d been sympathetic, although never intrusive. During this conversation with Nate, she’d realized with greater clarity than ever why Bruce acted the way he did. He hated confrontation and would do anything to avoid it. He coped by ignoring conflicts and tension, by wishing them away. He didn’t want to be caught between his wife and his daughter. She couldn’t fault him for preferring to keep the peace, but his approach didn’t work.

“You need to look after yourself and the baby,” Bruce was saying.

Alicia, the waitress, appeared in her pink uniform with the starched white apron. She automatically poured Bruce a coffee.

“Decaf for me,” Rachel told her.

“Coming right up. How about a piece of pie to go with that?”

“None for me,” Bruce said.

Alicia scowled at him. “I wasn’t asking you. She’s the one who could use a little meat on her bones.”

“No, thanks,” Rachel said, squelching a smile.

Alicia set the coffeepot on the table and started to enumerate the day’s selection of pies. “We got apple, blueberry, coconut cream and peach. The apple’s my favorite but you choose.”

“I …” Rachel looked at Bruce, who was grinning from ear to ear, apparently approving of Alicia’s tactics.

“Apple, it is,” the waitress announced, picked up the coffeepot and hurried into the kitchen.

“She’s almost as bossy as Goldie,” Bruce said, chuckling.

Goldie had been at the Pancake Palace forever, while Alicia, who’d started there maybe twenty years ago, was a relative newcomer.

Actually, a piece of apple pie did sound good. With all this stress—the pregnancy, the separation, the emotional upheaval—Rachel had lost weight she could ill afford to lose.

Alicia reappeared with the decaf and a thick slice of apple pie. “Enjoy,” she said.

“I will.” Rachel reached for her fork but didn’t try even a bite. She needed to hear what Bruce had to say, why he’d wanted to meet. Clutching the fork, she waited until Alicia was out of earshot. “You asked to see me.”

“Yes. It’s time you came home,” Bruce said starkly. “You’re my wife and I love you. You living somewhere else—it’s just plain wrong.” His voice fell. “I worry about you and the baby.”

She knew he meant every word, but nothing about their situation had improved. Judging by the incident at the mall, Jolene was as angry and caustic as ever. Rachel wasn’t wanted nor was she appreciated by her stepdaughter, and her husband wouldn’t deal with the girl’s hostility. Rachel refused to return to an environment that was unhealthy for her and her unborn child.

“What’s changed?” she asked. With great precision, she set the fork aside and studied Bruce.

He cupped his mug with both hands and stared down at it. “I have.” He took in a deep breath. “I failed you as a husband by choosing to ignore the obvious. I hoped the two of you would work it out on your own instead of doing what I could to help. If you come back, I promise I won’t let Jolene say or do anything disrespectful.”

“Bruce, that isn’t enough. I’m sorry but this isn’t going to be resolved just because you tell Jolene to respect me.” Besides, he might be able to control his daughter while he was in the house, although she doubted it, but there were plenty of times when she and Jolene were alone.

His sigh revealed his impatience. “Okay, tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want,” she said emphatically, “to get to the root of the problem and that means seeing a counselor. A family counselor,” she specified. “A professional trained to deal with situations like this.”