6 Rainier Drive (11 page)

T
he Monday after Easter, Maryellen woke in good spirits—despite another night on the sofa. She missed sleeping with her husband, missed the intimacy they'd shared. Once this baby was born, she vowed she'd never sleep on a sofa again as long as she lived.

Easter Sunday had been wonderful. When church services were over, Joseph and Ellen had taken Katie to a community Easter egg hunt. Katie had gleefully collected a basketful of colorful plastic eggs. She'd proudly showed her treasures to Maryellen and then later Jon. Her husband had conveniently disappeared when the Bowmans returned with Katie.

Katie had needed a week or so to become accustomed to Jon's parents, but by then her daughter realized she had these two people completely
wrapped around her little finger. Joseph and Ellen lavished their granddaughter with attention and love. Katie was thriving, and Maryellen would be forever grateful for their presence.

The Bowmans' arrival had gone a long way toward bringing Maryellen peace during this complicated pregnancy. Her mother and Cliff helped as much as they could, and had decided to delay their wedding reception until after the baby's birth. Grace visited at least three times a week and brought Maryellen library books to keep her entertained.

Charlotte and several ladies from the Senior Center had been out, too. Charlotte had taught Maryellen how to knit and she'd caught on quickly. Under Charlotte's tutelage, she'd started a baby blanket. However, none of these distractions was enough to keep Maryellen's mind off the financial difficulties caused by her unemployment. Jon couldn't work and take care of both Katie and her. Now, at least, he was able to spend the days taking photographs and had sold a few to the
Chronicle
and other area papers, as well as providing prints to the galleries that carried his work. He'd even applied for a few jobs, which had come to nothing.

Joseph and Ellen's presence had made a difference that was as profound as that between night and day. Jon couldn't deny that their generosity had changed everything; still, he avoided all contact
with his parents. He left in the morning and called every night before he got home. His call was the signal that his parents should leave.

Maryellen was distressed that he could be so coldhearted toward his family. Distressed and scared, too. If he could so completely turn off his love for them, then he might be capable of doing the same to her and to their daughter.

She knew very well that the only reason Jon had allowed his family into his life was for her sake and Katie's.

He refused to acknowledge their help or show them any appreciation. Joseph and Ellen had remained respectful of his wishes. The minute he notified Maryellen that he was on his way home, they packed up and left. The fact that dinner was waiting for him on his return was never mentioned or credited to his parents. As much as possible, he ignored their very existence. Maryellen felt dreadful for his father and stepmother.

When she heard Jon tiptoe down the stairs in the early dawn, Maryellen smiled. Their time alone on Easter Sunday had been special and she refused to ruin today with any unpleasantness.

“You awake?” he whispered.

She nodded and held out her arms to him. Jon joined her on the sofa, lying beside her. He placed his hands on her growing abdomen. They giggled and cuddled close.

“After this baby's born, I'm never sleeping without you again,” he said, spreading warm kisses on her throat until he reached her lips for a series of deep, probing kisses. Groaning, he tore his mouth from hers and buried it in the hollow of her neck. After a moment, he whispered, “I miss you sleeping with me.”

“I miss you, too.” His body was so familiar to her and so beloved. She reveled in the feel of him pressed against her. Had their circumstances been different, they would've made love. It wouldn't be long before all of this was over, Maryellen reminded herself. She had to repeat that thought frequently throughout the day—and night.

“Katie's still asleep,” Jon told her.

“She had a busy day yesterday. Oh, Jon, I can't tell you how good Ellen is with her.”

Her husband went rigid, just as he always did whenever she mentioned his parents.

Maryellen rubbed his back. “Did you see the giant Easter basket they bought her? It's got a plush bunny and—”

“I don't want them spoiling her rotten.”

“Sweetheart, that's what grandparents do.” She paused. “They love her so much,” she murmured.

Without a word, Jon slipped off the sofa and went into the adjacent kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She watched him grind beans, then add water.

“I knew this would happen,” he said to her from the doorway a moment later, his voice ringing with resentment.

“What?” she asked, sitting upright now. “You're afraid I'll refer to your parents in casual conversation?
That's
what you fear? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”

“The minute they got here, you were championing their cause. It's not going to work, Maryellen. I told you that before and I'm telling you again now. Nothing's changed between them and me. Not one damn thing.”

She flinched at the harshness of his words. “But, Jon—”

“I will not talk about it anymore. I let them come because you wanted it, and for no other reason.”

“They've been a tremendous help. How can you deny what your parents have done for us? Jon, they left their home. They're staying at one of those hotels off the highway, and all because they want to be near us during this time. The least we can do is show some appreciation.”

“They didn't help
me,
” he said with unrestrained anger. “Instead, they lied. They should count their blessings that I didn't get them charged with perjury. Then they would've gone to prison like I did.”

Maryellen forced herself to remain calm. “Yes, they did lie, and because of it you went through hell.
They paid the price for that, Jon, and they paid dearly.”

“No, Maryellen,” her husband said, “
I'm
the one who paid.
I
was the one behind bars. Do you know how I got through those years? Do you really want to know? By hating them. I swore I'd never have anything to do with either of them again.”

It pained her to hear the bitterness in his voice. Jon was a passionate man, who felt everything deeply. Anyone who studied his photography could see that, could sense his emotion.

A picture as simple as an empty rowboat tied up at a dock was sharply evocative. One reviewer had said that the abandoned rowboat was an object that had its own integrity and yet also symbolized lost dreams. Maryellen loved that review, and she'd clipped it and kept it in a special file. She agreed with every word. Years ago, she'd fallen in love with his art, long before she even knew the man.

So, it was no surprise that Jon's emotions, both positive and negative, had such potency. His hatred for his parents was uncompromising. He loved with this same intensity. Maryellen could never doubt the depth of his feelings for her and their children. He'd sacrificed for her; he'd even been willing to give up this land, and the home he'd built with his own hands, for her and for Katie and the new baby.

The silence between them seemed to throb like
a fresh wound. The only sound was that of the coffeemaker gurgling. Jon returned to the kitchen to pour himself a mug and heat water for decaffeinated herbal tea in the microwave.

“Thank you,” she said when he brought her the tea.

He sat down across from her. “I don't want to argue, Maryellen.”

“Me, neither.” She offered him a sad smile.

“I love you,” he said. “I won't allow my parents to come between us. I can't. They took everything else away from me, and I won't let them steal you and Katie, too.”

She sipped her tea and tried to see the situation from his point of view. “I was just thinking how unusual this is. It's the reverse of what normally happens, where the wife doesn't get along with her in-laws.”

Nodding, Jon cupped the mug. “I like my in-laws just fine,” he said. “It's my own family I don't care for.” He checked his watch and stood, ending their conversation. “I need to get ready for an interview.”

The comment caught her off guard. Jon hadn't said anything about applying for another job. He took photographs that sold in galleries, and she hoped to begin managing his career later this year, finding ways to give him more exposure and license his work. Maryellen had been reading about it on the Internet, using a laptop computer Cliff had lent her.

“An interview?” she echoed. “You didn't say anything about that.”

“It's nothing great,” he said as he headed up the stairs.

“But…you always tell me when you're going to a job interview.” A couple of opportunities had come his way recently, neither of which had panned out. Jon had talked to her at length before and after each interview. One had been for a construction job with Warren Saget's company. However, Jon had discovered that Warren used shortcuts and inferior materials. He was currently building an apartment complex and rumor had it that there were already major problems on the site. Although he possessed excellent carpentry skills and would gladly have taken on a construction project, Jon and Maryellen had agreed that, for ethical reasons, he shouldn't work for Warren Saget. Seth Gunderson wanted him back at the new—as yet unbuilt—Lighthouse, but Jon couldn't wait that long. He'd applied for some restaurant jobs, too.

“I'm sure I mentioned this,” Jon threw over his shoulder as he dashed up the stairs to their bedroom.

No, he hadn't; Maryellen would've remembered it. She had the unpleasant sensation that he was hiding something from her. Only, she couldn't imagine what it would be, or why. When he came down the stairs, dressed and freshly shaved, Mary
ellen was ready. She'd slowly made her way to the kitchen, where she sat at the table.

“Tell me about this interview,” she said as he popped a slice of bread in the toaster. He placed a bowl with instant oatmeal in the microwave and sliced a banana for her breakfast.

He glanced up. “It's nothing special,” he countered.

“Is it a cooking job?”

“No,” he said curtly.

“Apparently it's something you don't want to tell me about. Something you'd rather not mention.” She shook her head. “You've never kept secrets from me before,” she said softly, unable to disguise the hurt. “Please don't start now.”

He released a pent-up sigh. “All right, if you
must
know. The interview's with a portrait studio in Tacoma.”

“But, Jon, that's great!” It was probably a waste of his talent, but she wasn't going to say that.

“I'll be photographing schoolchildren and…”

Maryellen swallowed hard and struggled to hide her dismay. This was so far beneath Jon's abilities. It would stifle his creativity, kill his passion for photography. No wonder he'd been reluctant to tell her about this interview.

An involuntary sob escaped and she covered her face with both hands.

“Maryellen, don't.” He came to kneel in front of her. “Honey, it's the only thing available. It'll pay the bills, even if it doesn't provide any benefits.” He wrapped his arms around her.

“You'll hate it.” He was willing to waste his considerable talent at this menial job, and all because of her.

Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I've had worse jobs. This won't be for long, I promise you. I won't be home much, but—”

“You
want
it that way. You want out of the house because…because you can't stand the thought of your parents being here, and that's my fault, too. Sometimes I think this baby's going to destroy us.”

“Don't,” he warned gently. “Maryellen, you can't think like that. This baby is a gift.”

“I can't let you do this. Jon, please. I just can't bear it.”

“Sweetheart, don't.” He took her face between his hands and kissed her again and again. “I love you. I'm doing this for us. As soon as the baby's born, everything will be different. I promise.”

“Oh, Jon.”

“It's all right,” he said soothingly. “Everything's going to be all right.”

Maryellen so badly wanted to believe him. She smiled absently as he brought her breakfast to the table, although she could barely eat.

Jon left shortly afterward, and Maryellen tried hard to conceal her feelings when Ellen and Joseph came in. Ellen immediately went upstairs to get Katie dressed, while Joseph washed the few soiled dishes and straightened the books that were scattered around the living room.

Midmorning, he took Katie outside for a walk in the sunshine, and Ellen brought Maryellen a cup of decaffeinated tea with plenty of milk. “I thought I'd make a chicken pot pie for dinner this evening,” she said. “It used to be one of Jon's favorites.”

“I'm sure he'll appreciate it,” Maryellen said, but she had to wonder if Jon would even notice.

J
ustine was grateful to hear from her mother and even happier to see her. Late Wednesday afternoon they met for tea at 16 Lighthouse Road, the house where she'd grown up and where Olivia still lived. In a sense, Justine would always think of it as home. Leif had a play date with a friend from his preschool, and it was good to be with Olivia, just the two of them.

“Jack's out doing an interview with Pastor Flemming about the church's work with hurricane relief,” her mother explained as she carried the teapot and a plate of oatmeal cookies to the kitchen table.

This was Olivia's way of telling her that the timing of this visit was intentional—a chance for the two of them to be alone. Only a few years ago Justine couldn't have imagined sharing her troubles
with her mother. They'd rarely talked or discussed anything of importance. Now it seemed only natural to do so.

“What do you want to talk about?” Justine asked. If her mother had purposely arranged this time to make sure they weren't interrupted, then there had to be a reason.

Olivia glanced up from pouring the tea into china cups. “I guess I wasn't very subtle, was I?”

“It's all right, Mom. I'm your daughter—you don't need to be subtle with me.”

“Why don't you tell me how you're doing first?” Olivia set the teapot in the center of the table, then took her seat.

Justine reached for her cup and added a teaspoon of sugar, making lazy circles with her spoon. “I've decided to go back to work part-time for First National Bank.” She said this casually, as if it were a small thing. It wasn't. “I'll be out of the house for part of every day.” She was silent for a moment, wondering whether to talk about the underlying reason. “Getting away from Seth helps me deal with all the stress,” she admitted. She had to either spend time away from her husband for a few hours every day, while Leif was in preschool, or slowly go insane. She was relieved that Seth had talked to Larry Boone about taking the job at the boatyard but as yet nothing had come of it. She didn't know if the
hesitation was due to Seth or the other man. Seth was so volatile that Justine hadn't asked for fear of causing problems.

These last few weeks, living with Seth had felt like being trapped. His thoughts and all his efforts seemed to be focussed on finding the arsonist. Despite their brief attempt at resolving the tension between them, Seth was as driven as ever. The fire had consumed far more than the building that had housed their restaurant; it had consumed her husband, too. This angry, unreasonable person wasn't the man she'd married and Justine felt she no longer knew him.

“How does Seth feel about your taking this job?” her mother asked.

The sugar had dissolved but Justine continued her gentle stirring. “I…haven't told him yet, but I don't think he'll care one way or the other.” She doubted he'd even realize she was gone.

“Oh, Justine.” Her mother read the pain in her response. She leaned across the table and laid one hand over hers.

“The funny part is, I forgot to pick up my birth control prescription at the drugstore the other day and then I thought, why bother? Seth hasn't even come near me since the fire.”

“He's upset.”

Seth was more than upset, and making love
couldn't compete with his need to be angry. Every bit of tenderness in him seemed to be gone. All that remained was his sense of unfairness and rage.

“To say he's upset doesn't even begin to cover it, Mom. Seth is impatient and edgy and determined to find out who started the fire. It's become an obsession. He wants me to be angry, too, and he can't understand why I'm not.”

Olivia sipped her tea and sat back. “You're angry about this,” she murmured. “Aren't you?”

“Yes, of course I am. But I want to let it go. I'm trying to. I'm choosing to look at this the way I would any other traumatic event. We need to move on.”

“And Seth's not ready to do that?”

“No. And my lack of righteous anger complicates the issue,” Justine went on, a bit wryly. She'd given up reasoning with Seth. Any sort of acceptance on her part, or desire to advance to something new, only angered him further.

“He spoke to Jack recently,” her mother said thoughtfully.

This was news to Justine, but then she knew little of what Seth did these days.

“He approached Jack about putting a picture of that pewter cross in the paper. Apparently that was Roy's idea. He and Seth think someone might recognize it and give the sheriff a lead. At this point, the investigation's stalled.”

“Is Jack going to do it?”

Her mother selected a cookie from the plate. “I believe he said he'd talk to the sheriff first and see if that would help or hinder the investigation.”

Since Seth rather than the sheriff had spoken to Jack, Justine assumed that Troy Davis was reluctant to release this information. Most likely, Seth had gone behind the sheriff's back in an attempt to keep the investigation alive.

“You need to tell Seth you're going back to work,” her mother advised.

“I will.” But she wasn't in any hurry. They were barely speaking. For Leif's sake, they each made an effort to be civil in his presence. As far as Justine was concerned, though, they might as well be roommates. Or strangers.

“Is that why you had lunch with Warren Saget?” her mother asked, staring directly at her.

Shocked, Justine widened her eyes. Warren had taken her to lunch last week, but he'd been careful to ensure they wouldn't be seen. They'd met at a small, out-of-the-way restaurant in Gig Harbor. It'd happened only once and Justine had felt guilty about it ever since. How her mother knew was beyond her, but it explained the invitation for tea in this private setting.

“You heard about that, did you?” she asked, hoping to make light of the incident.

“I did, and I probably wasn't the only one. I didn't know Warren was back in your life.”

He wasn't, but saying so would only raise other questions she didn't want to answer. “Warren's a friend of mine,” she said tersely.

“Is he, Justine?” her mother asked point-blank.

It seemed that an explanation would be necessary, after all. “Soon after the fire, Seth and I had an argument. I had to get away so I went down to the waterfront. While I was there, Warren joined me. All of a sudden I had a panic attack. I've never had one before and Warren was extremely kind to me.”

“Oh, Justine! How frightening.”

She nodded. “I didn't know what was happening, but he calmed me down and talked me through it. Then last week he asked me to lunch and it seemed to mean so much to him, I couldn't say no.” She sighed. “I shouldn't have gone. I regret it now.”

“Have you thought what Seth would say if he knew?”

Justine had foolishly believed no one would ever find out. Including her husband. So much for that theory. If her mother had heard about the lunch, then there wasn't any reason to believe Seth wouldn't eventually hear about it, too.

“Who told you?” she asked.

“An attorney friend. It wasn't like Sharon came
running to tell me, either. She hardly knows you and mentioned that she saw you in Gig Harbor with your father. I knew it couldn't have been Stan and surmised you must've been with Warren.”

“It won't happen again, Mom.”

“It's none of my business. This is your life, but I'd hate to see you do something stupid that'll hurt you and your marriage.”

Her mother was right. She had to talk to her husband, let him know how damaging his actions had been. Confrontation had never been easy for her but they needed to reconnect with each other before it was too late.

Justine went home soon afterward. She wasn't supposed to pick up Leif until dinnertime, and she'd hoped to find Seth.

To her disappointment he wasn't home. Maybe she'd drive over to her grandmother's place. Just as she got ready to turn around and leave, the front door opened and Seth stepped inside. Penny, their small dog, trotted over to greet him.

She and Seth stood several feet apart and stared as though they'd never seen each other before. For the longest time all they did was look. Neither moved. Neither spoke.

A tightness gripped Justine's throat, and all at once tears filled her eyes and clogged her throat. She couldn't continue living the way they were, couldn't
go on pretending everything was fine when it so clearly wasn't.

With all her heart she loved Seth, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing him. If she didn't do something, she
would
lose him. They'd lose each other.

Out of need and fear, she took one step toward her husband. He did the same. Before she knew it, Justine was in his arms and Seth was kissing and hugging her as though they'd been reunited after a lengthy absence. He tangled his fingers in her hair as he brought his mouth to hers. Tears spilled down her face and she was sobbing and kissing him back, all the while pulling his shirt free of his waistband. She needed her husband, wanted him.

Justine wasn't sure how they made it to the bedroom. Ravenous as they were for each other, they didn't even completely undress before they fell on the bed, gasping and panting.

By the time they'd made love, Seth was half on the bed, his feet on the floor, while Justine was pinned to the edge of the mattress. They broke into wide grins.

“Oh, Seth,” she whispered, “I've missed you so much.”

He straightened and they climbed onto the bed, lying on their sides, facing each other. He kissed her chin and traced her cheekbones with one hand.

“I've been the biggest fool who ever lived,” Seth
told her. “We lost the restaurant. That's tragic, but I still have what's most important in my life. You and Leif.”

Tears clouded her eyes and she attempted a smile.

Seth continued to stroke her face. “I went down to see Larry Boone this afternoon.”

Justine bit her lip.

“I took the job, Justine. I'm going to be selling boats.”

A small cry of happiness escaped as she wrapped her arms around Seth's neck and hugged him with all her might.

“I'm so glad,” she said, sobbing openly. “Everything's going to be fine.” That was when she told him about her lunch with Warren. From the way his mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed, she knew Seth wasn't pleased. But once the truth was out, Justine felt as if a backpack loaded with rocks had been removed from her shoulders.

“I won't see him again,” she said. She gave him a long, involved kiss.

“You promise?” Seth asked.

“I promise.”

Then she told him about the job at the bank, which she'd be starting the following Monday.

His eyes revealed his astonishment. “When did you arrange this?” he asked, still frowning.

“A week ago.”

“You
want
to work?”

She did—for a dozen different reasons. She needed the escape into another world. She needed something to do; like him she'd been at loose ends. When they'd had the restaurant, she'd worked nearly every day and now there was a void. The money would come in handy, too. “Just a few hours a day. Do you mind?” If he did, she'd tell the bank she couldn't do it.

“No—it's totally up to you.”

Although Justine hated to bring up the subject of the restaurant, she felt it was necessary. “What about The Lighthouse?”

A pained look came over Seth, as if even talking about it distressed him. “I don't know. I just don't know.” His gaze held hers as he used his index finger to outline the shape of her lips. His touch was gentle and his eyes filled with tenderness. “Whatever we decide, it doesn't need to be this very minute. We'll take things one day at a time.”

“Okay.” Justine sighed and rubbed her bare foot along the outside of his leg. “I was so afraid I was going to lose you.”

“Never,” he whispered. “I would never have let that happen.”

And yet Justine feared it almost had.