92 Pacific Boulevard Page 13


Mary Jo shook her head as if anything to do with David Rhodes distressed her. “I’d rather not discuss him,” she said tersely.

“Of course.” He supposed it wasn’t polite to bring up such an unpleasant subject.

“I’m embarrassed by how gullible I was,” she went on, “and how willingly I accepted his lies.”

Mack just nodded. Mary Jo was the one who’d said she preferred not to talk about Noelle’s father, but once she’d started she couldn’t seem to stop.

“He fed me all this garbage about loving me and wanting our baby. He claimed to be thrilled that I was pregnant, and he said that once he had his finances straightened out, we’d get married.”

She became more agitated as she spoke. Mack wanted to assure her that it wasn’t necessary to tell him all this. But she was in mid-rant, and he couldn’t get a word in.

“Then, of course, I didn’t hear from him for weeks on end. I even put off taking the birthing classes because when we did speak he told me how much he wanted to be with me when the baby was born. Yeah, right. And then—” she paused and took in a shuddering breath “—then he told me he’d be in Cedar Cove for Christmas with his family, which, as we both know, was another big, fat lie.”

She scowled. “His father and stepmother were on this cruise, and when I arrived in town there was no one, and I had to depend on the kindness of strangers. You’d think by this time I’d be smart enough to question anything he said. But did I? Oh, no, I swallowed that lie like all the rest.”

As if she could no longer sit still, she vaulted to her feet. “After Noelle was born, Ben let David know he had a daughter. You might expect him to contact me, but not so.” She started pacing, her arms tightly crossed. “Not that I wanted to hear from him, mind you. I might be a slow learner but once I figure something out, I don’t forget.” She wagged her finger at Mack. “I never want to see or talk to David Rhodes again as long as I live. I mean that.”

“Well, I—”

“I refuse to accept a penny from Ben Rhodes, either. He offered, you know. His son’s a real problem to him. Ben didn’t say that outright but I could tell. I thanked him—it was a lovely, gracious thing to do—but Noelle isn’t his responsibility. She’s David’s. I don’t expect him ever to do the right thing, though. Neither does Ben. Otherwise he wouldn’t have offered.” Another quick breath. “I did let him set up a trust fund for Noelle, but that’s all.”

Mack waited a moment before he attempted to speak. When her tirade was apparently over, he ventured a comment. “In my opinion, Noelle’s better off without David in her life.”

“I agree with you! Not that I have any worries there. He doesn’t want anything to do with her—or with me. Which is just as well. But one thing’s for sure.”

“What’s that?”

She nodded once, in a slow, stately movement. “I won’t be so easily fooled again. Men aren’t to be trusted, especially the good-looking, sweet-talking kind. Like David—you could frost a cake with his words!”

“Your brothers—”

“Don’t get me started on them,” she broke in. “Linc’s a stubborn know-it-all, and as for Mel and Ned, they’re oblivious. A woman who got involved with one of my brothers would need her head examined.” She paused long enough to breathe. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers. They’ve been wonderful about Noelle, but they’re clueless.”

“Well, I—”

“Oh, I shouldn’t have said that,” Mary Jo blurted out. “It’s just that they’re at the garage all day and aren’t exposed to females in the workplace. Except for women who bring their cars in, of course. And they’re always impressed.” She rolled her eyes.

“I was impressed with Linc, too, when I met him.” Mack felt he had to tell her this. He and Linc had talked for a good thirty minutes after the aid car had taken Mary Jo and Noelle to the hospital. At the time, Mack had been excited, and so had Linc. He was an uncle now and thrilled with the idea.

“Of course you’d side with my brothers,” Mary Jo muttered. “You’re a man.”

“Well, I—”

“No, I’m finished with men. Done. Forever. You know what they say, once burned and all that. Well, I’ve got third-degree burns and there is no way in this lifetime that I will ever trust a man again.”

Mack didn’t like the sound of this. “What exactly does that mean?” he asked.

The look she shot him said it all. “You don’t want to know.”

“Actually, I do.”

“No, you don’t, because you’d feel obliged to defend the male gender and it would only end with us agreeing to disagree. You can’t tell me anything Linc hasn’t already said.”

“Like what?”

Crossing her arms again, she sighed loudly. “That all men aren’t like David.”

“They aren’t.”

“I realize that. My dad was a wonderful husband and father, and there are still a few decent men left in this world. Cliff Harding, for example.”

He noticed he hadn’t been mentioned but decided not to take it personally. “If you believe that,” he said, “then why are you finished with men?”

“Because,” she said, leaning forward, “I know there are good guys. That’s not the problem. The problem is being able to tell who’s good and who’s a jerk. Unfortunately, my jerk detector is clearly out of whack.”

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

“Nope. Because you know something? David wasn’t the first.”

Mack’s eyes narrowed.

“I mean…I never went as far…got as involved with a man the way I did with David. But before I met him, there was a guy at work who completely charmed me. Not until later did I discover he was married. We never really went out or anything—I just had lunch with him or a drink after work. Nothing more than that. But I had no idea he was lying, too. Lying by omission, anyway.” She glanced at Mack over her shoulder as she paced. “Other women seem to have that filter, you know, the instinct that tunes them in to a man’s motives. I don’t, so I can’t trust myself with men. Another relationship isn’t worth the risk.”

Setting down his coffee cup, Mack mulled over her words. “So I guess that’s it.”

“That’s it. I have my daughter, and from now on it’ll be just the two of us. As soon as I find another job, I’m going to get an apartment and move there and live on my own, free of my brothers and free of men entirely.”

Mary Jo looked over at him as if daring him to comment.

“This wouldn’t be a good time to ask you out on a date, then, would it?”

Her head reared back in surprise and she smiled. “Are you sure you mean that?”

Mack grinned up at her. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Ten

Grace Harding was working in her small office at the library when Sally Overland, a recent hire, knocked politely at her half-open door. Grace wondered how she’d be able to concentrate on the endless stack of paperwork if she was constantly interrupted. The morning was already gone, and she’d hardly made a dent.

“Come in,” she called. None of her other assistants would’ve waited for permission.

Sally stuck her head in the door. “There’s someone by the name of Olivia who’s here to see you. She said she’s a friend.”

Grace leaped to her feet, nearly upending her chair. “Olivia’s here?”

Sally, who was young and somewhat lacking in confidence, widened her eyes. “Yes. I hope I did the right thing. I told her you were busy, but she said you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind.”

Sally stepped aside and Olivia entered the office wearing her long black wool coat and a bright red knit cap.

Grace walked around her desk and gave her closest friend a careful hug. Olivia was pale, but then she had been for months. Pale and thin…and now bald.

“What are you doing here?” Grace demanded.

“What do you mean?” Olivia asked in the same tone of voice. “I brought back a library book and wanted to see if you’d had lunch yet.”

“No. Do you feel good enough to be out and about?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” Olivia stated with perfect logic. “Where would you like to go?”

“You choose,” Grace said. She knew Olivia didn’t have much of an appetite and whatever appealed to her was fine with Grace.

Olivia shrugged. “Anyplace will do. What sounds good is a cup of tea.”

“That’s all?”

“Maybe some soup.”

“Pot Belly Deli?”

“Great.”

Olivia smiled, and Grace grabbed her coat, scarf and purse. Together they headed toward the main library door. Grace quickly told Sally where she’d be.

Although the deli was less than three blocks away, Grace insisted on driving. She didn’t want Olivia to risk catching a chill while her immune system was compromised because of the cancer treatments. Nor did she want her to get tired out from the walk.

Just before Christmas, Olivia had been hospitalized with a massive infection. A shiver of fear skittered down Grace’s spine at the memory of how close they’d come to losing her. No, she wasn’t taking any chances.

“You’re treating me as if I’m made of porcelain,” Olivia complained, but not too strenuously, Grace noted.

“Don’t waste your breath arguing.”

“You always were bossy,” Olivia said as she slid into the passenger seat.

“Uh-huh.” Grace wasn’t about to let her friend have the last word.

Thankfully, she found a parking spot directly in front of the deli. It was late enough that the noon crowd had left, so they had their pick of tables.

As soon as they were seated, Grace smiled at the young waitress. “What’s your soup for today?”

“Cream of broccoli,” the girl, who didn’t look more than eighteen, told her.

“We’ll both have that,” Grace said.

“With tea,” Olivia added. “Earl Grey, please.”

The girl made a notation on the pad and disappeared. Once she was out of earshot, Olivia leaned forward. “Mom’s got the best broccoli soup recipe. I think she had it here first and then went home and created her own version. My mother should have a cooking show, don’t you think?”

Grace laughed. “Can’t you picture it? Chef Charlotte making muffins and chatting up celebrity guests.” She removed her scarf and unfastened her coat, then folded it over the back of her chair. “She’d be terrific. And she can make anything taste wonderful.”

Olivia nodded, smiling. “She believes in cooking with quality ingredients—and love.”

“I’ve only seen your mother in passing since the cruise. She had a good time?”