Pelican Court (Cedar Cove #3)(4)
“I don’t,” Allison shouted. “As far as I’m concerned, this entire divorce is bogus.” With that she stormed out of the kitchen.
Rosie watched her daughter go, wishing she knew how to reach her. She wanted to put her arms around Allison and hug her and assure her that everything would be all right, but the girl wouldn’t accept any kind of closeness. At least not from her…
“Don’t worry about Allison,” her nine-year-old said. “She’s really glad about Dad coming home, even if it’s only for a few days at a time, but she wouldn’t let you know that for anything.”
Two
Sweat dripped down Grace Sherman’s face, and the intense heat of the mid-July afternoon plastered her T-shirt to her skin. She dipped her roller in the tray and smoothly spread light-yellow paint across her bedroom wall. She was a librarian and, despite all the books she’d taken out on home maintenance, she wasn’t much good at renovations and repairs. Dan had always insisted on looking after the house. Alone at age fifty-five, Grace found that life continued to thrust her into unfamiliar and challenging situations.
“I hope you appreciate what a good friend I am,” Olivia Lockhart said from behind her. She, too, worked at covering the dingy white walls with yellow paint. Cautiously, Olivia—her lifelong friend—moved around the furniture pushed into the middle of the bedroom, protected by old sheets.
“You volunteered,” Grace reminded her, using her forearm to wipe the perspiration from her brow. The room felt stifling and the air was still, even with the windows partially open.
After learning that her husband of thirty-four years, who’d been missing since the previous April, was dead, Grace had developed insomnia. She didn’t understand it. Olivia had suggested she repaint the room, thinking a different color might signify a new phase in her life. Pale yellow was a calm, optimistic color. Maybe her subconscious would get the hint. At the time it had sounded like a good idea, especially when her friend had offered to help. It was just the kind of thing Olivia would do. Over the years, they’d supported each other through everything from minor domestic crises to life-shattering events.
“I can’t believe I thought we could finish this in one day.” Olivia groaned. Straightening, she planted her hands on the small of her back. “I didn’t have any idea how much work this was going to be.”
“How about a glass of iced tea?” Grace was more than ready for a break herself. The two of them had been painting for what seemed like forever but was probably only an hour or two. Still, they’d had to move the furniture and do the prep work first—laying a drop cloth on the floor and taping the windows.
Olivia set aside her roller. “You don’t need to ask twice.”
Grace wrapped both paint-coated rollers in a plastic bag, then headed into the kitchen. By the time Olivia finished washing her hands, Grace had poured the iced tea into tall glasses. Buttercup, her golden retriever, scratched at the screen door and Grace absently let her inside. Panting, the dog lumbered into the house and stretched out under the table, resting her chin on the cool tile floor.
Grace slumped into the chair and released the kerchief tied at the base of her neck, shaking her damp hair free. She wore it shorter these days, since she no longer needed to worry about her husband’s likes and dislikes.
After witnessing Olivia’s pain years before, Grace had never wanted to go through a divorce, but when Dan disappeared she wasn’t left with any options. For financial reasons, it was the only practical choice.
That had been months ago now. Afterward, even learning Dan’s fate was anticlimactic. She was relieved that his body had been discovered, but she’d already endured the worst of the grief and guilt: the not knowing, the doubts, the recriminations—all of which had befallen her after Dan’s disappearance. So this sudden bout of insomnia didn’t make sense to her.
“This was the best idea you’ve had all day,” Olivia said, sinking down on the chair. “Besides putting on a Credence Clearwater Revival CD,” she added. They’d both gotten caught up in the music of their youth and hadn’t realized how hot and uncomfortable they were until the last song on the CD ended.
“We may not have the moves we did thirty years ago, but we aren’t ready for walkers just yet,” Grace said, and Olivia agreed with an easy smile.
“I heard about your latest decree,” Grace said, smiling across the table at her friend. They’d been working together all afternoon, but with the music playing they’d barely had a chance to talk.
“You mean the joint custody case?” Olivia asked.
Grace nodded. “It’s all over town.” This wasn’t the first time Olivia had made a controversial decision in the courtroom.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “At least Jack didn’t write about it in his column.”
So Olivia was going to bring Jack Griffin into the conversation. Good. Grace had been looking for a way to introduce the subject. He and Olivia had been seeing each other for more than a year, and Grace loved Jack for the simple reason that he’d made her friend happy. Once Olivia had started dating Jack, the local newspaper editor, she’d been…more relaxed. More lighthearted. Then, a few weeks ago, Jack and Olivia had a falling out, a difference of opinion, really—and they hadn’t spoken since. Olivia was miserable, although she wasn’t willing to admit it.