74 Seaside Avenue

“Yes,” she whispered when his hand cupped her breast. “Very well.”

“Is there anything else you want to discuss?” Bobby asked after a long pause.

“What are we going to do about this Russian?” she asked, pushing his hands away so she could concentrate.

Bobby didn’t reply immediately; he seemed to be assessing his options.

“They’re Mafia?” she asked. “Russian Mafia?”

Bobby shrugged and when he spoke he avoided her question. “Vladimir’s a good player, one of the best, but I’m better.”

In many ways her husband was a humble man, but when it came to chess, he had complete and total faith in his abilities. That unshakable confidence in himself was what she’d found so appealing.

“Vladimir wants you to lose to him,” Teri speculated.

Bobby nodded.

“You told him you wouldn’t, right?”

At first he didn’t respond. Eventually, reluctantly, he explained. “Vladimir implied that if I didn’t lose to him, something would happen to you.”

The fiery burst of anger that shot through her was overwhelming. Teri blurted out a few words that apparently shocked Bobby. “I won’t let you lose to him,” she insisted furiously.

Bobby’s eyes revealed a tortured look. “The thing is, I can’t lose. I don’t know how to lose. All I know is how to win.”

“That’s why you’ve given up tournament play, isn’t it?”

His eyes met hers, and he answered with a slight incline of his head. “Vladimir will get what he wants. The longer I resist, the lower my ranking will go. Soon he’ll be ahead of me.”

While Teri understood his reasoning, she also realized it would never happen. The press was demanding a match between the two men and if he refused, Bobby would look like a coward, a loser. Although he hadn’t said so, her husband knew it, too.

Eleven

“Olivia! It’s a girl,” Grace Harding all but shouted through her cell phone.

“Kelly had the baby?” Olivia sounded groggy, as though she’d been asleep. If so, she was awake fast enough, and seemed as excited as Grace herself. This was one of the great things about having a best friend like Olivia. You could call her at any hour of the day or night. You could share bad news or good, and she’d always know what to say.

“I woke you up. I’m sorry.” A quick glance at her watch showed that it was eleven o’clock. Tears of joy made wet tracks down her cheeks. “Kelly phoned at nine to tell me she was in labor. I got here just in time to welcome little Emma Grace into the world.”

“Emma Grace,” Olivia repeated slowly. “What a lovely name.”

“She’s gorgeous.” Grace couldn’t stop talking. “She’s got the biggest, bluest eyes and—”

“Meet me at the PancakePalace,” Olivia broke in with a laugh. “We should celebrate.”

It wasn’t champagne Goldie would be pouring—more like decaf coffee. She’d probably bring them each a slice of coconut cream pie, as well.

For years Olivia and Grace had attended a Wednesday-night aerobics class, followed by coconut pie and coffee. This was tradition. The pie and coffee were their reward for stretching and sweating and leaping up and down. More importantly, Wednesday night was their time to catch up.

Even though they’d seen each other just the night before, it seemed right to share this moment with Olivia, who’d been a constant in her life since grade school.

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” Grace told her. She felt too keyed up to drive home and try to sleep, anyway. It wasn’t every day a woman had a brand-new granddaughter.

The next call she made was to Cliff; she remembered that he was in the barn, so she left a message. Then she phoned Maryellen, who of course already knew, and finally she drove from the birthing center in Silverdale back to Cedar Cove.

Grace’s heart soared as she rounded the curving road that edged the Cove. The lights of her hometown welcomed her, and she smiled as she drove past the library and down Harbor Street

to the PancakePalace. This had been their hangout, hers and Olivia’s, ever since high school.

Funny, those afternoons didn’t seem that long ago…. They were both grandmothers now, but inside they remained the high-school girls they’d been back then, confiding secrets and gossiping about their friends.

The PancakePalace had changed little in all those years. The menu was still the same; only the prices had increased. The booths had been reupholstered a number of times, but they were the same red vinyl as they’d been in the days of their youth.

Olivia’s car was in the parking lot and Grace could see her through the restaurant window. She was in their booth, the very booth where Grace had whispered her dreaded secret when they were high-school seniors. Olivia was the only person who knew Grace was pregnant when they graduated. Grace hadn’t found the courage to tell her parents until Dan had said he’d marry her. Then and only then had they broken the news to her family.

“You look far too young to be a grandmother,” Olivia said when Grace slid into the upholstered seat across from her.

“Five times over.” She had four of her own and was a stepgrandmother to Cliff’s granddaughter, April. And yet it wasn’t so long ago that she’d despaired of ever becoming a grandmother at all. That was when Maryellen was divorced and seemed to have no intention of marrying a second time. Kelly had wanted children but couldn’t conceive.

Now both her daughters were mothers, each with a boy and a girl—a wealth of happiness that overwhelmed Grace whenever she thought about it.

“Tell me everything about Emma Grace,” Olivia said.

“She’s a beautiful baby,” Grace began, “with lots of blond hair, those blue eyes and a scrunched-up red face.” She smiled at the memory of holding Emma. “She’s got a powerful pair of lungs, too.”

Goldie, their favorite waitress, approached the table, carrying a pot of coffee in one hand and two pieces of coconut cream pie in the other.

“Didn’t I see you here yesterday?” she asked as she set down the plates. “And it’s later than your usual nine-fifteen.”

“I’m a grandma again,” Grace announced proudly.

“Congratulations!” Goldie poured their coffee. “The pie’s on the house, girls.” She hurried off to see to another customer, one of the few so late at night.

“How’s Kelly doing?” Olivia asked, reaching for her fork.

“Excited. Jubilant.”

“That’s exactly how you were when you had Maryellen and Kelly.”

“And you with Justine and Jordan,” Grace reminded her, “and then later with James.”

Sadness flashed in Olivia’s eyes at the mention of Jordan, the son she’d lost.

“Okay,” she said a moment later, rebounding quickly. “Now that both Drake and Emma have made their appearance, it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time—” Olivia pointed her fork at Grace “—to plan your wedding reception.”

Grace instantly felt guilty about putting this off. She’d been so involved with her daughters and the births of the grandchildren that she’d delayed the reception again and again. “It’s been so many months now, I don’t think—”

“Nonsense,” Olivia countered, cutting her off. “Your entire family needs to celebrate. All the grandkids are healthy and happy. And you’re married to a wonderful man who adores you.” As if she’d suddenly realized Cliff wasn’t with them, Olivia sat up and looked around. “Speaking of Cliff…”

“He’s at home, or more accurately, in the barn. Sunshine decided to deliver her foal, so Cal and Vicki are both with him. It’s Sunshine’s first and Cliff wants to be sure everything goes okay.”

Olivia smiled softly. “A night of births…”

Grace nodded, feeling emotional. After a sip of coffee, she changed the subject. “Well, we know what my husband’s doing. How’s yours?”

“Jack’s snoring contentedly. The phone didn’t even wake him.” She shook her head.

“Your Sleeping Beauty,” Grace teased.

“Wait—we’re mixing up our fairy tales.” Olivia laughed. “All I know is that we both ended up with a happily ever after. However long that might be,” she added soberly, and Grace knew she was thinking of Jack’s heart attack two years earlier.

Grace could only hope he’d truly mended his high-cholesterol, junk-food ways. What she liked best about Jack Griffin, and there was a lot to admire, was the fact that he loved her friend. They were two of the most mismatched people she could imagine. And yet…it worked.

“Set a date for the reception,” Olivia urged her. “And I’ll help as much as I can.”

Grace nodded. Olivia was right; it was time to celebrate her marriage. They were never going to find a date that suited absolutely everyone. That was why they’d gotten married during a library conference Grace was attending in San Francisco. They both had busy lives, and so did their children. But instead of fitting their schedules to everyone else’s, they’d simply eloped. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and Grace had no regrets.

Except one. She hadn’t realized how upset everyone would be with her and Cliff. Even Olivia felt hurt. Cliff and Grace hadn’t meant to exclude anyone; all they’d wanted was to be together as husband and wife. A wedding reception would allow their family and friends to celebrate to their hearts’ content.

“How about two months from now? I’ll confirm with Cliff and let you know.” Grace dug into her pie, savoring the first bite. Coconut was her favorite although it was probably a bad choice from a health point of view. On the other hand, was there a good choice when you were talking about pie?

Olivia set down her fork and wrapped one hand around her mug. She stared into her coffee. “I thought you should know. Will’s in town. Mom called me this evening.”

Grace’s heart slowed to a dull, irregular beat. “Oh.”

“He showed up at Mom and Ben’s earlier today.”

“Okay.” This wasn’t the most intelligent response, but she couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

“Where’s he staying?” she finally mumbled.

“With Mom and Ben for now.” Olivia looked down at the table. “Apparently he’s going to look for an apartment.”

“You…you didn’t mention my house is for rent, did you?”

Olivia’s gaze shot to hers. “No way! You mean it’s still vacant?”

The house felt like a weight around her neck. A young navy couple, Ian and Cecilia Randall, had rented it on a month-to-month basis; they’d barely moved in when they received word of a transfer to San Diego. The rental property had sat empty for two and a half months.

The rental agent had told her that with the George Washington leaving port, the market was glutted with available properties.