Silver Linings (30 page)

They loaded the box into the car and headed back to Seattle. Next week she'd destroy the rest. Katie was determined.

It'd been nearly a month since Mark had left Cedar Cove. I'd more or less adjusted to life without him, although the days felt empty. Mark was constantly in my thoughts and prayers. I couldn't help wondering if he'd been able to get into Iraq, and if he had, whether he was safe. My prayers centered on him, praying for his safety and for God to send him back to me. Praying gave me little comfort. I'd prayed daily for Paul, too, and despite all my petitions to God I'd lost my husband. The one positive aspect of prayer was that it gave me an outlet for my worries.

I resisted the urge to contact Bob Beldon for news of Mark, certain that if he heard anything he would be in touch with me. On a positive note I'd started my spin class and loved being more physically active. The funny part was that by the time I finished my hour workout I felt incredibly weak and found it almost impossible to walk. Despite my daily exercise taking Rover out, I was sadly out of shape.

Another benefit of the class was that I made friends with Dana Parson, who was around my age, married, and had a couple of kids. Her husband worked at home, which enabled her to take the spin class while her son and daughter napped in the early afternoons.

I continued to get plenty of bookings for the inn. If I kept at this pace I might actually show a profit by the end of the year. Monday I had a rare free morning to myself. My guests from Sunday had left and my next guests weren't due to arrive until later that evening. It was a couple from Kansas City who'd come to visit their son who was stationed at the navy base in Bremerton.

Rover was eager for his walk and waited impatiently for me to finish my morning tasks. “All right, all right, I'm coming,” I assured him, shaking my head. I'd spoiled this dog and had no one to blame but myself.

As soon as I got his leash, Rover did a happy dance and hurried to the door, looking over his shoulder as if to say it was about time. I attached the lead and started outside, surprised by how chilly the weather had turned. It was October now and the wind was whipping up the leaves. I'd no sooner raked up the multicolored foliage when a new batch would obliterate my yard again. It was a never-ending chore.

I started chugging up the hill, following the same two-mile path I took every day with Rover. The sky was overcast and the wind swirled up the leaves as I wrapped my raincoat more securely about me. Although it was relatively early in the month, there was evidence of Halloween all around. Several neighborhood yards were decorated with jack-o'-lanterns displayed on porch steps and a few angel-hair spiderwebs spread over low-lying bushes. One house had a scarecrow in the front yard with bundles of hay at the base and a few cornstalks.

Rover and I approached the street where Mark had lived. Ever since he'd left I'd avoided walking past his house. The
FOR SALE
sign out front upset me and I thought it best to keep away from the reminder that he was gone. Not that I needed anything to prompt my memory. I felt his absence each and every day.

For whatever reason Rover decided to turn down Mark's street that morning, determinedly tugging me in that direction. “That's not part of our walk,” I reminded him.

Rover wouldn't hear of it. He glanced over his shoulder as if insisting this was the way we should go.

“Oh, all right, if you must, but Mark isn't there. You know that, right?” I might not need a reminder, but it seemed Rover did.

Rover's short legs gathered speed and he urged me along. By the time we approached the house I was struggling to hold him back. When we got to the driveway that led to Mark's shop, Rover let out a sharp bark as if he expected Mark to come out and greet us.

“He's not here any longer,” I reminded him a second time, as Rover strained against the leash.

Then I noticed it.

The
FOR SALE
sign in front of the house had a large band slanted across the front that said
SOLD
.

I stopped and studied the sign as if it could fill in the details. For whatever nonsensical reason I'd held out hope that the house would remain on the market until Mark returned…if he ever did.

Seeing that sold sign had a curious effect on me. I placed my hand over my heart as if to protect it from the sense of loss. This was one more indication that I needed to let go of Mark. I was surprised Bob hadn't told me. Right away I wondered if there were other things he hadn't told me about Mark and this mission he'd undertaken.

By the time I returned to the inn I was frazzled and upset. Rover was as well, because I hadn't taken him on the full two-mile trek the way I normally did, cutting short our time.

The first thing I did once we were back was put water on to boil for tea.

This was one of those times when I needed my mother. I hated to admit how fragile I felt, when the sale of the house was something I should have expected. Mark's house had been on the market for a little over a month; I just hadn't anticipated it would sell this quickly.

Once the tea was ready I sat down at my small kitchen table, reached for my cell, and punched the number that would connect me with my family.

Mom answered on the third ring. It took her that long to get to her landline in the kitchen, depending, of course, where she was in the house. Although my mother had a cell phone, she rarely kept it with her, and my dad never seemed to have his phone charged.

“Jo Marie!” she said. “It's good to hear from you.”

“Hi, Mom.”

My greeting was followed by a short hesitation. “You heard something, didn't you?” Right away she sensed something wasn't right. “I can hear it in your voice.”

I'd said all of two words; I'd tried to hide my distress, but apparently not well enough.

“I need a little pick-me-up talk with my mother,” I told her. I leaned forward, set my elbow against the tabletop, and pressed my hand against my forehead as I struggled within myself.

“What's up?” she pressed. “Did you hear from Mark?”

“No, nothing like that.” There was no need to hide what had upset me so badly. “I took Rover out for his walk this morning and he insisted we turn down the street where Mark's house is.”

Mom hesitated for just a brief second. “It sold, didn't it?”

Sometimes it was like she could read my mind. “Yes. I know, it's irrational. This is what real-estate people do: they sell houses. And he listed it with a company that has a reputation for selling quickly.”

“And you're upset.”

“I know. It's ridiculous. It was inevitable…it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Mom's voice softened. “We feel what we feel. Don't discount your heart. It isn't about what's right or wrong, Jo Marie. You're experiencing a loss; it makes sense that you'd be upset. The sale is one more connection to Mark that's been severed, so naturally it's going to affect you. It would anyone, so stop beating yourself up.”

My mother was right. I shouldn't berate myself. I swallowed against the thickness that clogged my throat. “I'm so afraid I'll never see him again.” There, I'd said it out loud. I was afraid and the fear was strikingly familiar to what I felt when Paul left for Afghanistan.

“Jo Marie, are you crying?”

“I'm trying not to.” But it was hard, especially when my throat was tight and tears stung my eyes. “I'll be fine…”

“Of course you will,” she said soothingly. “No word from him? Nothing?” she asked again, lowering her voice, as if afraid if she said the words too loud that it would upset me even more.

“Not a thing. But I'm doing well.” Or I thought I was until this morning. “I've made a couple of new friends.”

Again the briefest of pauses before she asked, “Male or female?”

“Mom!”

“Sorry. I've heard you mention Dana, but I didn't know if that was a man or a woman.”

“Woman. We're in spin class together.” Dana and I often stopped off at Starbucks after the class and ordered a skinny latte. We both felt the need to unwind before returning home. I could laugh with Dana and I needed a friend who would lift my spirits.

Mark could be a real pest at times but what stood out in my mind was all the times we'd argued and laughed together, often in the evenings when we sat on the deck and talked. I missed those times.

I missed Mark. Oh how I missed him.

Mom and I chatted for several more minutes about this or that. Nothing important, just girl talk. I was grateful to have a mother who understood me so well. She was able to pull me out of the mire of self-pity better than anyone, and I knew I could be honest with her about my feelings.

No sooner had I hung up the phone when my doorbell chimed. I checked my watch and realized it was too early for my guests to arrive. Rover was already at the front door when I got there, his tail wagging. Whoever had decided to make a call was clearly a friend, otherwise Rover would be on his guard. How the dog could tell before seeing who was at the door was beyond me.

I wasn't surprised to find Bob Beldon standing on my porch. His eyes met mine and his look was dark and serious. I opened the door further in silent invitation for him to come inside.

“I know why you're here,” I said, leading him into the living room.

Bob followed me and took a seat on the sofa. He wore a jacket and his hair was damp with small droplets of rain. I was grateful I'd taken Rover out earlier.

He held my gaze. “So you know. I wondered if you'd been by the house yet or not.”

“When did it sell?” I didn't mention that it'd been nearly a month since I'd last walked past Mark's house.

“I believe the offer came in over the weekend.”

“I expected it to take longer.” The real-estate market had been slow the last few years, and in the back of my mind I'd hoped several more months would pass before an offer came in. Not that it mattered. One month or three or longer, eventually someone else would be living where Mark once had.

“It was a good offer,” Bob explained.

“If the offer only came in over the weekend, then why did the sold sign go up so quickly?” That usually took a while—it had when I purchased my Seattle condo and then later the inn.

“It was a cash sale. The closing will happen sometime this week and then I'll be bringing you the check.”

Although Bob had told me Mark wanted me to donate the funds from the house, I had yet to decide what to do with it. In an effort not to think about it, I asked him another question. “Do you know anything about…the new owners?”

Bob shook his head. He sat close to the edge of the sofa cushion and braced his elbows on his knees. “I stopped by for more than just to update you about the house.”

“Oh?” A chill came over me, although the inn was warm and cozy.

Bob looked down at the carpet. “Peggy wanted to come with me but got hung up in some volunteer meeting at the library. She said I should come without her, otherwise it might take us another week or two before both of us could connect with you.”

Whatever it was he had to say must be serious. I stiffened, certain he was about to relay bad news. “You heard from Mark?” I didn't bother to hide my anxiety.

Bob shook his head, but he didn't meet my eyes.

“You heard from someone who knows about him?” I asked, eager for him to get on with whatever he had to tell me.

Bob nodded.

“And?” I didn't understand why he wanted to keep me in suspense unless it was something he dreaded telling me. “It's bad news, isn't it?”

“It's news. Not good. Not bad. Mark made it into Iraq.”

“Did he locate his friend?”

“Ibrahim, I…”

Too eager to wait, I plowed ahead. “Yes, yes. Did he find him? Is he alive? Ibrahim, I mean, not Mark? If so, how soon can he get him and his family out of the country? Is it possible to bring Ibrahim and his family to the United States?”

“Jo Marie,” Bob said, and held up his hand. “I don't have answers to any of those questions.”