Debbie Macomber: 204 Rosewood Lane

Jack was thrilled with the prospect of having a good relationship with his only child. He had a lot to prove, both to Eric and himself. He didn’t want anything to injure this fragile beginning.

“Of course I have time. Tell me what’s on your mind.” Jack sat down across from his son, leaning forward so Eric would know he was interested and that he cared.

“It’s Shelly and her pregnancy,” Eric murmured.

That much Jack had guessed, but he didn’t say anything.

“The baby can’t be mine. I told her that and she blew up at me. She said if I seriously think she’s pregnant by someone else, then I should get out of her life.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” Jack murmured. “Women say things like that when they’re upset.”

“She meant it enough to throw me out of the apartment.”

So much for that pearl of wisdom, Jack mused. He cursed himself for not being better at this.

Eric looked as if he was about to weep. “She said she never wanted to see me again.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean that, either.”

“I think she did.”

“Perhaps she did when she said it, but she’ll have a change of heart later.” Jack winced at his own glibness. “Soon,” he added. “She’ll ask you to come home soon.”

“I hope she does,” Eric said emphatically. “The apartment’s leased in my name,” he added, “but I don’t want her to move. She can have the apartment if she wants.”

“What about you? Where will you go?”

Eric hesitated, then glanced up. “Would you mind very much if I stayed here with you? Just for the time being.”

“Me?” Jack echoed, and was instantly sorry. “Me—well, I guess we won’t get in each other’s way too much, if it’s only for a few days.” So much for romantic evenings with Olivia any time in the near future.

“It probably won’t be for long.” Eric sounded hopeful.

“Of course not,” Jack said, his voice as confident as he could manage. “My guess is that Shelly will call tomorrow, wanting you to come home.”

“You think so?” Eric’s eyes brightened.

“Sure thing.”

Eric shook his head, his expression grim. “I doubt it, Dad. First of all, I didn’t tell her I was coming here and secondly…” He paused and rubbed his face. “Do you think the doctors might’ve made a mistake about me?” The appeal in his eyes was painful to see.

“You mean about being able to father children?”

“Yeah. Is there any chance?”

Jack looked at him thoughtfully. “It was a lot of years ago. There are ways of finding out about these things, you know.”

“Yes, but Shelly says…” He sighed deeply. “I wouldn’t suspect her of being with another man, but a little while ago she mentioned this new guy she’s working with and they seemed to be real buddy-buddy. They were doing a lot of overtime together—and now she turns up pregnant. What else am I supposed to believe?”

Jack glanced at his watch. Olivia was expecting him to pick her up in five minutes.

“You have somewhere to go, don’t you?” Eric asked. “You should leave,” he urged, but if anything, he sounded worse than when he’d first arrived.

“Let me see what I can do,” Jack said, his own heart sinking fast. He couldn’t leave Eric like this. The boy was hurting and needed to talk. For so many years, he hadn’t been any kind of father to his son, and he wasn’t about to fail Eric again.

“Let me call Olivia,” he said. “She’ll understand.”

“You’re sure?” Eric asked.

“Of course.” Disheartened, Jack sequestered himself in his bedroom and dialed Olivia’s number.

She answered almost immediately and seemed surprised to hear from him.

“I have to break our date.”

“Our date tonight?” She sounded as disappointed as he was.

“Eric’s here,” Jack explained.

“Oh.”

“Shelly kicked him out and he came to me. He needs to talk. And he may end up staying here for a few days.” He sighed. “I hate to do this to you, but you understand, don’t you?”

“Of course,” she said softly. “He’s your son.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry about this.”

“I’ll call Mom and keep the reservation. I’d rather have dinner with you, but I understand. Children—regardless of their age—always need to come first. You know how strongly I believe that. Thanks for telling me, Jack, and good luck.”

Jack understood that she was praising his effort to communicate with his son—and with her. The one thing Olivia hated above all else was secrets, a lesson he’d learned early on in their relationship when he’d tried to hide the fact that he was a recovering alcoholic.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said.

“Later,” Jack repeated and then because he’d almost forgotten, he added, “Olivia?”

“Yes?”

“Happy Birthday.”

Five

“Do you have plans for tonight?” Grace phoned to ask Olivia late Friday afternoon, the following week. It was a clear, crisp day toward the end of October, and Olivia had been waiting to hear from Jack ever since his phone call on her birthday.

“Plans? I wish…” Olivia said. “Do you have any suggestions?” she asked with a little more enthusiasm.

“How about taking in a football game?” Grace said. “We could go to dinner afterward. It’s been ages since we had a chance to catch up.”

Olivia was delighted that Grace had called her. During the months since Dan’s disappearance, Grace had closed herself off from almost everyone. She’d kept her conversations brief and superficial, clearly unwilling to disturb the bedrock of pain and grief that had become the basis of her life. Again and again she’d found excuses to postpone visits or social plans. Olivia was concerned, but she respected her friend’s need for privacy. It was no reflection on their long and very solid friendship. Grace was dealing with the loss of her marriage. Olivia stood by her, encouraged her with notes and cards and called frequently, just to maintain communication and to let Grace know she was there. This was the first time in a long while that Grace had called her to suggest an outing.

“I’d love to take in a game,” Olivia told her friend.

“I thought you would,” Grace said. “Have you heard from Jack yet?”

“Not a word.”

“Damn.”

Grace had that right. Olivia was tired of making excuses for him, even in her own mind. He’d been absent from her life all week. He hadn’t called once. Nor had he shown up for their usual Tuesday night get-together. She couldn’t help being disappointed that he’d had to break their date on Saturday; she certainly understood. But at the same time she’d hoped he would, at the very least, leave a brief message telling her how Eric was doing—and maybe saying he missed her. He could’ve called to make a tentative plan for next week or even the week after that. Instead, he’d ignored her.

“Meet me at the football field at seven,” Grace said.

“I’ll be there.”

Olivia was grateful to have somewhere to go and something to do. Especially with her best friend, who seemed to be emerging from her self-imposed isolation. Her social life had revolved around Jack for months. Almost always, they spent part of a weekend together.

At seven o’clock, Olivia met Grace just outside the chain-link fence at Cedar Cove High School’s football stadium. The field was ablaze with lights and the stands on both sides of the field were quickly filling up. Grace had dressed in gray wool slacks with a blue-and-green plaid wool jacket. She wore her thick salt-and-pepper hair shorter these days, and it suited her. Dan had always preferred a shoulder-length style, reminiscent of her high-school appearance, but Grace didn’t need to please Dan anymore.