8 Sandpiper Way

“Getting a medical clinic up and running,” Corrie said excitedly.

This was news, and Roy couldn’t believe she was just telling him now. He’d been home for a couple of hours. “Hey! That’s great.”

“Buffalo Valley is growing and they need a clinic. Hassie claims it’s divine providence that brought Linnette to their town.”

He nodded, pleased that Linnette would be using her education. She’d worked hard to become a physician assistant and it’d be a shame to see all that effort go to waste. Roy had said she’d eventually go back to medicine, and he’d called it right.

“She’s thrilled about this opportunity. You might give her a call later.”

“I might,” he agreed, although it was always Corrie who did the phoning.

Roy had never been comfortable expressing emotion or, for that matter, being on the receiving end. Nevertheless, he loved his wife and his children, all three of them. They made him proud. Even Mack …

There was a knock at the door, but before Corrie could open it, their son stepped into the house. A blast of cold air came in with him.

“Whatever you’re cooking smells great,” he said appreciatively, rubbing his bare hands.

Corrie cradled his face and kissed him loudly on the cheek.

“That was the right thing to say,” Roy told him with a grin. “Not that it isn’t true,” he added swiftly.

Mack guffawed. “Good save, Dad.”

Roy lifted his hand in acknowledgment but didn’t get up. He’d injured his back years before and as a result had taken early retirement from his job with the Seattle police. His back still caused him pain, which he did his best to ignore. Some days he succeeded at that better than others. This was one of his less successful days.

Mack pulled out the ottoman and sat down near his father. “I stopped by the Cedar Cove fire station this afternoon.”

Roy straightened. This was what he’d been waiting to hear. He wanted to ask if Mack had been chosen for the position, but was patient enough to let him make his own announcement.

“Good grief, Mack,” Corrie cried. “Don’t keep us in suspense!”

“The captain said there’s a letter waiting for me in Seattle.”

“Oh.”

Corrie’s obvious disappointment echoed Roy’s. He’d hoped a job in Cedar Cove would bring him and Mack closer. They’d come a long way in the last two years but, as Roy was the first to admit, they still had a long way to go.

“Why the sad looks?” Mack asked. “My application’s been accepted! Effective December fifteenth, I’ll be working for the Cedar Cove Fire Department.”

Corrie covered her mouth with both hands and shrieked with delight.

“Congratulations, son,” Roy said. Leaning forward, he slapped Mack on the shoulder. Despite his more temperate response, he was no less elated than his wife.

Corrie’s eyes gleamed. “Of course you’ll stay with us until you find a place to rent.”

“Actually, no.”

“No?” Corrie frowned. “But … we’re your family. Where else would you live?”

“The thing is, I’ve found a place.”

“So soon?”

“Yes, and it works out great. Would you believe I’ll be living in Linnette’s old apartment? Will Jefferson’s subleting it, and I’m assuming his lease.”

“You?”

“Where’s Will going?” Roy asked. “He’s barely moved in. You mean to say he’s moving out already?”

“He purchased the Harbor Street Gallery.”

That was old news. Big news when it happened, because it had looked as if the gallery was about to close its doors for good. No one wanted that. The entire community had breathed a collective sigh of relief when Will Jefferson decided to buy it.

“Yes, we know about Will taking over the gallery,” Corrie said. “He’s not leaving town, is he? After all this, it would be a shame if he turned over the management to someone else.”

“Nothing like that,” Mack explained. “Apparently the gallery has a small apartment that’s been used for storage during the past few years. Will couldn’t see any reason to pay rent when he already has a place he could live.”

“I didn’t know the gallery had an apartment.”

“Me, neither,” Roy said. “It’s got a second story, though, so it doesn’t really surprise me.”

“Up until now it’s been crammed full of junk. Will’s been working all weekend to get it cleared out. At last count he’d made three trips to the garbage dump. He’s having painters come in on Monday.”

“The place could probably use updating, don’t you think?” Corrie asked.

“I’ll help him whenever I can,” Mack said.

From habit Roy nearly spoiled everything by making some disparaging comment about Mack’s carpentry skills. Thankfully, he stopped himself in time. His son was a capable carpenter; not only that, he’d worked as a painter and part-time post-office employee. He’d done a dozen other jobs since he’d dropped out of school.

“Will said he’ll eventually buy his own place, but at this point, he’s content to fix up the apartment.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Roy murmured. “Makes sense to stay on the premises.”

“That’s the cop in you talking, Dad,” Mack said with a laugh.

Corrie laughed, too. “So when are you moving into Linnette’s old apartment?” she asked.

“As soon as I can make the arrangements. The lease is up in a few months and that’ll give me time to decide what I want to do—buy or continue renting.”

“Good idea, son.”

Mack met his eyes and they exchanged a smile. This was progress, real progress, for both of them.

The oven timer went off, and Corrie returned to the kitchen.

“Let me set the table,” Mack offered, following his mother.

Roy reached for the paper but he didn’t see the words in front of him. Instead he pondered the state of his children’s lives. Gloria was doing well. Linnette was going to start a medical clinic in Buffalo Valley, North Dakota. And now Mack was taking on a responsible job with the Cedar Cove Fire Department.

Roy didn’t think life could get much sweeter than this.

Seven

“She’s going to be fine,” Cliff Harding said, standing behind Grace as she prepared their morning pot of coffee. He placed his big hands on her shoulders in a comforting gesture of love and concern.

Grace pressed her hands over his and wished she felt as confident as he seemed to be. Olivia, her best friend, her life friend, had cancer. The word struck terror in her heart. This wasn’t the first time a friend, someone she cared about, had been diagnosed with breast cancer. But this was Olivia, who was as close to Grace as a sister. They’d been best friends from the moment they’d met in first grade.

They’d seen each other through every life crisis—from Grace’s teenage pregnancy to her first husband’s suicide. From the death of Olivia’s son Jordan to her divorce. They’d been through so much together, nearly every loss a woman could experience. Olivia knew Grace better than anyone. And Grace knew Olivia.

But cancer. Grace wanted to scream, to howl, to weep. She felt helpless, impotent, with no idea what to say or how to support her friend. Her fears for Olivia overwhelmed her.

Cancer was so unfair. It didn’t make sense. This shouldn’t be happening to a woman as conscientious and positive and kindhearted as Olivia. She was the one who watched her diet religiously. She took her vitamins every morning without fail. She exercised and looked after herself emotionally and spiritually. What more could she possibly have done?

“You going to the hospital?” Cliff asked, although he already knew the answer.

“I told Jack I’d sit with him while … while they do the surgery.” She turned around and slid her arms around Cliff’s waist and hid her face in his chest. A shiver went through her.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Cliff whispered soothingly, stroking her hair. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I won’t be able to relax until we know for sure the cancer hasn’t metastasized.” So far, the tests were encouraging, but until the surgery was done, they wouldn’t know whether the cancer was localized and her lymph nodes were clear. Grace wanted reassurance and she wouldn’t rest until she heard the physician say the words.

Even when things were at their worst, Olivia had always seemed to be in control. From the time they were in grade school, Grace had admired her. Young as she was, Olivia had been so well put-together, so smart and organized. She wore crisp dresses with Mary Jane shoes and perfect pigtails. In high school she’d been elected a class officer every year. She was popular, intelligent, capable and her peers recognized it and sought her out.

But that lifelong sense of control had abandoned Olivia now.

When the coffee finished brewing, it was Cliff who got two mugs and filled them both. He handed the first one to Grace. “Would you like me to go with you?”

Grace’s immediate reaction was that she would’ve liked nothing better. Then she remembered that Cliff had a meeting with a horse breeder he’d been looking forward to seeing for weeks. His willingness to reschedule the appointment touched her deeply.

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine—and so will Olivia.” She forced a smile, sipped some more of her coffee and then walked back to their bedroom to change out of her night-clothes. As she sorted through her wardrobe, she wondered what one wore to an event like this. Her normal attire at the library was a cotton turtleneck pullover with a jumper. She had quite a few jumpers, some of which she’d sewn herself. In the end, she opted for tan khaki slacks and a rust-colored V-neck sweater over a white polo shirt.

Grace couldn’t imagine why her outfit seemed so important, yet somehow it was. She wondered if this could be a way of distracting herself from Olivia’s surgery. Or perhaps it was a more complex psychological phenomenon, like … like suiting up for battle. Because this was battle, even if she was going to be standing on the sidelines.

When she arrived at the hospital, she discovered that Olivia had already been checked in and given a sedative before the surgery.

As Grace entered her hospital room, Olivia raised her head and glanced at the door. Grace hesitated. Seeing her dearest friend so vulnerable nearly brought her to tears. But the last thing Olivia needed was for Grace to turn into an emotional wreck. Swallowing the giant lump that blocked her throat, she managed to grin. “Hello there,” she said with a heartiness she was far from feeling.

“Grace,” Olivia whispered. “I told you it wasn’t necessary to come. I should’ve known you’d never listen.”

“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else,” Grace said. “I need to be here—if not for your sake, then my own.”

Olivia’s eyes were serious and she nodded slightly. “Thank you.”

Grace reached for her friend’s hand and they held on to each other the way they had countless times through the years.

“Where’s Jack?” Grace asked after a moment, wondering why Olivia’s husband wasn’t with her.

“He went to get coffee,” Olivia explained. Their eyes met and Olivia bit her lip. “The coffee’s just an excuse. He’s not dealing with this well.”

“Hey, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a pillar of strength myself.”

Olivia smiled.

“This is crazy, you know?”

“The cancer?” Olivia asked.

“Well, that, too. But I was talking about something else.” Grace paused to take a long breath, trying not to cry. “You’re the one with cancer. Jack and I love you and so do Will and Charlotte and your kids. We’re all willing to do whatever we can to help you through this. Unfortunately, we’re falling apart, at least Jack and I are.” She laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. “The crazy part is that you’re the one who’s comforting us.”

Olivia dismissed her words. “Nonsense.”

“Look at me, Liv,” Grace said, dashing tears from her face. “I’m a mess. I want this to go away.”

“You think I don’t?” Olivia teased. “I never thought it would happen to me. There’s no history of breast cancer in my family. I eat right, exercise, get my yearly checkup and yet here I am. This isn’t fair, is it?”

“Cancer usually isn’t.”

They continued to hold hands, still clinging to each other when Jack walked in holding a foam coffee cup. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night and was as pale as Olivia.

An orderly stepped into the room directly behind him. “We’re ready for you now, Ms. Griffin.”

“I’m ready for you, too,” Olivia murmured. Her gaze moved from Jack to Grace and she gave them both a reassuring smile. “I don’t want either of you to worry.”

“Right,” Grace lied.

“It is what it is,” Olivia said.

That sounded too much like resignation to Grace. This wasn’t the time for acceptance; it was a time to fight.

Jack walked by Olivia’s side, holding her hand, with Grace trailing behind. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I know,” Olivia whispered back.

The orderly rolled the entire bed out of the room and down the hall to the surgery center.

“Everything’s going to be just fine,” Grace reiterated aloud because she needed someone to say it, even if that someone was her.

“Yes,” Jack said.

By unspoken agreement they moved toward the surgical waiting area. Jack sat in one of the upholstered chairs, which were clustered into groups of four and six. He drank his coffee as he stared into the distance. Right now they were the only people there and had chosen the chairs closest to the door.

“Did Olivia wonder why I took so long getting the coffee?” he asked, looking in her direction for the first time.

“If so, she didn’t say anything to me,” Grace assured him, although it wasn’t the complete truth.

A sigh rumbled through his chest. “I decided to go to the hospital chapel,” he said, his voice low. “I’ve done a lot of things I’m not especially proud of through the years. I wasn’t sure I had the right to ask God for anything.”

“I know what you mean.” Grace had plenty of lapses herself, plenty of misgivings about her own right to ask.

“I took my chances and asked God to be with Olivia,” Jack said. He leaned forward and splayed his fingers through his hair. “I want to do every single thing I can for her.”

“You already are.” Falling in love with Jack Griffin, marrying him, had changed Olivia’s life, bringing her more happiness than she’d ever expected. This man had stood by her and always would.

Grace glanced at her watch, astonished to realize it’d been less than ten minutes since the orderly had come for Olivia. Time seemed to creep by; Grace felt conscious of every second. When another five minutes had slowly passed, Olivia’s daughter, Justine, and her mother, Charlotte, walked into the waiting area. Charlotte, as usual, toted an enormous knitting bag.

“Is Mom in surgery?” Justine asked.

Grace nodded.

Charlotte sat down next to Jack and automatically pulled out her knitting. “It calms my nerves,” she announced to no one in particular. Her fingers worked at an impressive speed, and Grace tried to guess what the multicolored yarn would become.

“I wish I could’ve seen her before the surgery,” Justine said, pacing restlessly.

“It’s all right, dear,” Charlotte said calmly. “Your mother knows how much you love her. She knows you would’ve been here if you could.”

Justine continued pacing. “I used to think I didn’t really need my mother.” She sounded close to tears. “I was so confident that I knew what I was doing.” She gave a little shake of her head. “Mom never liked me dating Warren Saget. She didn’t trust him. I think in some ways I went on seeing him out of spite, just so I could prove how wrong she was.”

“Justine,” Charlotte said quietly, setting her knitting down in her lap. “All daughters go through that with their mothers. Olivia did with me, as well. It isn’t until we’re mothers ourselves that we understand.”

Justine folded her arms. “She was right, you know—about Warren, about me loving Seth and … and everything else. I need her in my life. Leif needs his grandma and so does our new baby.” She flattened her palm against her stomach.

Grace had recently learned that Justine was pregnant with her second child and knew Olivia was ecstatic.

They all grew quiet for several minutes. In the distance Grace saw workers setting up Christmas trees and hanging decorations. She’d forgotten that this was the first of December.

Charlotte was knitting steadily, her fingers slowing to a more relaxed pace. “I told Ben this morning that we should cancel the cruise. I want to be with my daughter.”

“Grandma, Mom would be furious if you did that,” Justine said. “You and Ben have been planning this vacation for months.”

“Yes, I know, but …”

“Go, Charlotte,” Jack told her. “Justine’s right. Olivia would be upset with you for staying home.”

“I realize that. Still …”

Charlotte didn’t finish what she was about to say. Her eyes brightened and she smiled as Pastor Dave Flemming joined them in the waiting area.

“Oh, Pastor,” Charlotte murmured in relief. “I’m so pleased you were able to make it.”

“I’m glad to do it,” Dave said, sitting next to Charlotte.

“Olivia’s in surgery now,” Jack explained. “Everything depends on whether the cancer has spread. We won’t know exactly what we’re dealing with until we know that.”

“Whatever happens, I wanted to tell you I’m available anytime. All you need to do is call.”

“Thank you,” Justine said.

“Would you like me to pray with you now?”

“Please.” It was Charlotte who answered. She set aside her knitting needles and bowed her head.

Justine sat beside Grace and closed her eyes. Seeing how shaken she was, Grace took the younger woman’s hand in her own. Justine held on tightly.

Pastor Flemming’s prayer was brief, but it brought Grace a sense of peace. She didn’t know what the outcome would be, but for the first time she was ready to leave that with God.

When Pastor Flemming finished, the small group whispered, “Amen.”

The prayer affected them all. Jack looked more composed and so did Justine. Charlotte picked up her knitting needles. Grace found herself breathing normally again.

They chatted amicably with Pastor Flemming for a few minutes until he said, “I’ve got a meeting, so I’d better leave now.” He got to his feet.

Jack stood, too. “I can’t thank you enough for stopping by.”

The pastor nodded and patted Jack’s shoulder affectionately. “We can’t always know what the future holds, but we know Who holds the future.”

“That we do,” Charlotte concurred, her fingers busy.

“Remember,” Pastor Flemming said, “if there’s anything you need, day or night, call me.”

“Thank you again,” Grace told him, grasping his hand as they exchanged goodbyes. “Please pray for her.”

“Of course,” he promised. “Olivia is in my prayers, as she is in yours.”

He left soon afterward and the small gathering continued their visit, newly energized or so it seemed to Grace. As they talked, Jack reached sheepishly inside his pocket for a hand-held gadget.

“What’s that?” Justine asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Video poker,” Jack mumbled. “Bob Beldon bought it for me. He said it’d help distract me while Olivia’s in surgery.”

Justine planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You mean to say my mother’s fighting for her life in there and you’re going to sit here playing video games?”

“Uh …” Jack hesitated, then nodded decisively. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Oh.” Justine paused. “Do you think they have those in the hospital gift shop?” she asked, breaking the tension.

Grace burst into laugher, and so did Justine and Jack. Charlotte looked up, but didn’t seem to understand the joke. They were still chiding one another when the surgeon entered the waiting room.

Simultaneously they all stood, their laughter instantly cut short. Every eye was on Dr. McBride.

The silence seemed to pulse through the room.

“We were fortunate to have detected the tumor when we did,” he began.

“Do you mean it hasn’t metastasized?” Grace asked in a hushed voice.

“No, it doesn’t look like it. The margins seem to be clear. We’ll have to wait for the final diagnosis to be sure, but we sent tissue down to the lab during surgery, and according to the pathologist, there appears to be no lymph node involvement.”

“Thank God,” Jack whispered. And then, as if his knees had given out on him, he sank back into his chair.

Tears formed in Grace’s eyes and she hugged Justine. Sniffling, Justine hugged her back.

“I knew it all along,” Charlotte said righteously. She, too, sat down and once again her knitting needles started clicking. “I told you, didn’t I?”

“Olivia’s oncologist has scheduled a regimen of chemotherapy and radiation treatments for her,” the surgeon said.

Grace hardly heard a word after that.

Her friend had always been a survivor. Cancer was just one more obstacle Olivia would surmount with her unyielding grit and determination.

Eight

Dave Flemming left the Bremerton Hospital and drove directly back to Cedar Cove for his meeting with Allan Harris. The attorney had asked to see him before Thanksgiving, but with his busy schedule and the holidays pressing in on him, this was the first opportunity Dave had found.

Harris’s office was off Harbor Street. Dave parked as close as he could, which happened to be two blocks away. At some point over the weekend, Christmas decorations had begun to appear. Evergreen boughs stretched across Harbor from one lamppost to another, strung with twinkling white lights. Every year the holiday season seemed to sneak up on him. He didn’t have time to consider what this added expense would do to the family’s already tight budget. Frankly, he preferred not to think about it.

The wind off the cove was cold and Dave hunched his shoulders against it as he walked up the steep hill to the office. When he stepped inside, Geoff Duncan, Allan’s legal assistant, glanced up.

“Hello, Geoff,” Dave said, holding out his hand. He knew the young man casually. They’d talked once or twice after Martha Evans’s death. Allan Harris had been in charge of Martha’s legal affairs; he was a man the older woman had trusted.

“Pastor.” Geoff got up, his own hand outstretched. A moment later, Dave turned to a row of pegs and hung up his coat.

Geoff was a likeable young man with a firm handshake. He dressed professionally in a suit and tie, and his demeanor was low-key, unthreatening. A good attribute for someone in a small-town legal practice, Dave thought.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Harris phoned a few minutes ago and is tied up in a meeting,” Geoff said. “He didn’t think he’d be more than fifteen minutes. Would it be possible for you to wait?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Wonderful.” Geoff rubbed his palms together. “Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?”

“No, no, I’m fine. Thanks, anyway.” Dave strode over to the small waiting area and sat down. No one else was in the office. He rested his ankle on the opposite knee and reached for a three-month-old issue of Sports Illustrated.

“Actually,” Geoff said, following him. “I was hoping for a chance to talk to you.”

“Sure.” Dave closed the magazine. “How can I help you?”

“I don’t know if Allan mentioned it or not, but I’ve recently become engaged.” The young man’s lips tilted in a pleased smile.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Geoff’s smile grew wider. “I feel like the luckiest man alive because Lori Bellamy’s agreed to marry me.”

The Bellamys were major landowners on Bainbridge Island. Dave had heard the name any number of times through the years because of the family’s many philanthropic projects. If he remembered correctly, the Bellamys owned a theater and various prime pieces of waterfront in the downtown area of Winslow.

“When’s the wedding?”