“Do you think Bob had something to do with his death?” she asked next. She didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to consider what that would mean for Peggy.
Roy walked back to the other side of his desk and sat down. “I don’t know, but I’m not ruling it out.”
Olivia’s Christmas was all planned. Justine, Seth and Leif, as well as her mother, would be at her house for dinner by midafternoon. Olivia had invited Jack, too, but unfortunately he’d already made arrangements to join Eric and Shelly and the twins in Reno.
“Next year we’ll be together,” Jack promised. He’d stopped at her place early Christmas morning, before he left for the airport. She gave him her gift—a first edition of H. L. Mencken—and he set his gifts for her under the tree.
“Promise for next year?” she asked, when he’d kissed her farewell.
“Promise.” Jack gathered her in his arms and kissed her again.
Olivia felt the warmth of that kiss all the way to her toes, and when he’d finished, her head was spinning. They were only now recovering their ease and comfort with each other, although they remained a little on edge, afraid of toppling the delicate balance.
For her part, Olivia was careful. Neither of them had discussed Stan, although her ex-husband still called her often—always for what appeared to be legitimate reasons.
Stan was smart. He wanted back in her life and he was a patient man. For the moment, he was letting things slide, doing nothing overt. Olivia knew her ex-husband, though. At some point, when he figured the time was right, Stan would swoop in.
“Will you be here for New Year’s Eve?” she asked, looking up at Jack. The thought of spending the night playing Scrabble with her mother held little appeal, although it’d been their tradition for almost a decade. If Jack could join them, it would turn an otherwise routine evening into something truly entertaining. Charlotte loved Jack as much as Olivia did.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I already made other plans.”
Her smile faded, and her heart thudded to an abrupt halt. “Not with another woman, I hope?”
He chuckled and appeared to be amused by her small display of jealousy. “It’s not what you think. I volunteered to be part of a retreat for Alcoholics Anonymous. I’m sorry. If I’d thought about it, I would’ve cleared it with you first.”
She had no right to make that kind of demand on him. “It’s not a problem. I…I’ll miss you.”
Jack kissed her one final time. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
Olivia walked him to his car and waved as he drove off. She wouldn’t see him again until after the first of the year. Sadness settled over her. And so did a measure of regret. The difficulties in their relationship had come about because she’d allowed herself to get caught up in Stan’s sudden need for her and the nostalgia she’d felt for their past. A past that couldn’t be retrieved…
Olivia shook off her somber mood, and Christmas was wonderful. With her mother’s help, Olivia’s turkey turned out golden-brown and succulent. Although he was still too young to appreciate Christmas, Leif was thoroughly spoiled by Olivia. Stan had dropped off his gifts earlier in the week.
They opened their presents after brunch, and it was an hour full of laughter and exclamations of pleasure. The contrast between Jack’s gifts to her and Stan’s seemed very telling to Olivia. Jack had bought her a small framed black-and-white photograph of the Cedar Cove lighthouse, one of Jon Bowman’s pictures. He’d also given her a new Cross pen, to replace the old one she’d used for years. Stan had bought her a diamond pendant, an “any woman” sort of gift. It seemed oddly impersonal, although Justine immediately made her put it on.
At three o’clock, the small party telephoned James and Selina in San Diego and eighteen-month-old Isabella chattered away. Unfortunately, little of what her granddaughter said was decipherable to Olivia. What did come across was that this was the first Christmas her granddaughter understood that she had two grandmas. Selina assured Olivia that Isabella loved her gifts: a talking doll with its own baby carriage.
“I wish you’d invited Dad,” Justine told Olivia privately in the kitchen while scraping the dinner dishes.
“I thought about it,” Olivia confessed. She had, but she was afraid it would encourage Stan, which was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I hate it that he spent the day alone.”
Olivia swallowed down a sense of guilt, but later she reminded herself that if Stan was alone on Christmas Day, it was the result of choices he’d made sixteen years ago. He was the one who’d walked out on their family, on her and their two surviving children. Despite her sympathy for him, and her residual affection, she couldn’t get too involved in comforting her ex-husband, even if he was in the throes of a second divorce. Knowing Stan, that would lead to willfully mistaken impressions; besides, she had other priorities now.
“Seth and I are hoping to spend New Year’s Eve at the restaurant,” Justine said casually, without looking at Olivia.
If that was a hint that her daughter needed someone to watch Leif, Olivia was more than ready to volunteer. Jack had plans, so the only person she worried about upsetting was her mother.
“Let me check with your grandmother, but if she doesn’t mind, I’ll stay with Leif.”
“Really, Mom?” Justine was obviously relieved. “I don’t feel right leaving him with a sitter yet.”
Olivia didn’t blame her. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Her mother sat with her feet up in front of the fireplace, knitting what seemed to be a man’s sweater, although she hadn’t said who it was for. Possibly Seth, but that didn’t seem likely. If it was, Olivia assumed her mother would’ve finished it before Christmas.
Sitting down next to Charlotte, Olivia took in the scene around her. A fire flickered in the fireplace and the Christmas stockings that had hung on the mantel were down now, empty and spread across the coffee table. Seth held his sleeping son cradled in his arms; he, too, had dozed off. Christmas music played softly from the CD player and the lights on the tree sparkled. It was about as perfect a Christmas as she could remember.