“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.
“Mom,” Olivia said, “would you mind terribly if I didn’t join you this New Year’s Eve?”
“Oh, you have other plans?”
Olivia looked at her quizzically; her mother seemed pleased by the prospect of spending the evening alone. “Justine asked me to watch Leif so she and Seth could be at the restaurant.”
“By all means, Olivia, you stay with Leif. Don’t worry about me.”
“Would you like me to drive by and pick you up?” Olivia asked.
“Nonsense,” Charlotte returned. “I might have a date of my own, you know.”
Olivia smiled. Charlotte had men friends, but no beaus. Her friends had encouraged her to pursue a second relationship, but Charlotte had refused. Life was simpler that way, she’d always said.
Following her divorce, well-meaning friends had tried to set Olivia up with various men. Had circumstances been different, she might’ve been interested. But at the time, she was in no condition to get involved with anyone, and she knew it.
In addition, Justine and James had needed her. Her world and theirs had just collapsed, crushing them under the weight of their combined grief. For a long time afterward, the three of them had been emotionally crippled. They’d needed time to recover, and it hadn’t happened quickly or easily.
In their own ways, they’d each succeeded. James had joined the Navy and married Selina. In the military he’d found security, and Selina had offered him the unconditional love he so desperately needed.
Justine had faltered for years, and had managed to convince herself that she wanted neither a husband nor children. Thankfully, Seth Gunderson had convinced her otherwise.
For her part, Olivia had found satisfaction and joy in her position on the bench. Meeting Jack had been an unexpected bonus. He’d brought laughter and spontaneity back into her life. With him, she could relax the rigidity that she’d so carefully incorporated into her daily routine.
Her throat thickened with sudden emotion. She owed Jack so much, and she’d nearly thrown it all away. She’d nearly destroyed the relationship that gave her so much pleasure.
It dawned on her then that she hadn’t heard from him all day.
Later that night, after her family had left, Jack did phone, but their conversation was brief. He was flying back the following weekend, and they arranged a dinner date at the Taco Shack, his favorite restaurant. Olivia had to admit she was growing accustomed to reading a menu on a wall.
After she talked to Jack, Olivia made a pot of tea and sat in front of the Christmas tree, reveling in a peaceful hour or so before bed. It had truly been a wonderful Christmas. The only improvement she could add to the day was Jack, and he’d already promised her they’d be together the following year.
The phone chimed in the distance, and for a moment she was tempted to let it ring. In retrospect, she wished she had.
“Merry Christmas,” she said before glancing at caller ID.
It was Stan. “Same to you, sweetheart.” He sounded cheerful.
She resisted the urge to correct him—to tell him she wasn’t his sweetheart and never would be again. “Hello, Stan. I imagine you want to talk to Justine and Seth, but they’ve left.”
“No,” he said, “I’m calling to talk to you.”
She didn’t comment.
“I wanted to ask you out for New Year’s Eve.” Before she could object, he added, “Think about the two of us having dinner at the Space Needle, with champagne and ballroom dancing, just like we used to.”
Clearly he had her confused with his second wife. When she was married to Stan, they could never have afforded such extravagance. “I’m sorry, but I already have plans.”
A momentary pause. Then he said, “Not with that newspaper fellow. Tell me you’re not serious.”
Olivia bit her tongue to keep from defending Jack. It wouldn’t do any good. “If you must know, I agreed to watch Leif for Justine and Seth.”
“You did?”
She almost confessed that Jack would be at a retreat with some of his AA friends, but quickly decided that was more information than her ex-husband needed to know.
“That’s great,” Stan said, sounding jovial now. “I’ll join you. We’ll put Leif down for the night, drink champagne and dance. It’ll be like old times, just the two of us.”
“I don’t think so.”
Stan chuckled. “You can’t keep me away from my only grandson, and it’ll be the perfect opportunity for us to talk. Give me a chance to prove myself, Olivia. I made a mistake and I’ve paid for it. It’s time to put the past behind us. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
Olivia released a sigh. “I’m sorry, Stan, but you’re sixteen years too late.”
* * *
Christmas had been a miserable affair for Rosie. Allison was in a rotten mood most of the day because neither Rosie nor Zach could afford to buy her the computer she wanted. Eddie had been disappointed in his gifts, too, but he’d put on a brighter face than Allison. Rosie wondered when their children had become so terribly, terribly spoiled.
That Saturday, two days after Christmas, Rosie and Zach met to divide the monthly bills. Until the divorce, Zach had always managed the money and had done an excellent job of handling their finances; now they shared this unpleasant task. The divorce had cost them both dearly and continued to do so.
Zach had brewed a pot of coffee when she arrived at the house. The bills were spread out across the kitchen table, organized alphabetically. She noted that dishes were stacked in the sink and the living room needed to be straightened. From the look of the carpet, no one had vacuumed since before Christmas. She wasn’t about to mention his failings as a housekeeper, however, considering that she wasn’t much better.
“When we’re finished there’s something I need to discuss with you,” he said. He reached for the coffeepot and automatically filled two mugs, which he brought to the table. He set hers down, then pulled out a chair across from her.
Studying the tense look on his face, Rosie decided she’d rather deal with whatever was bothering him first and get it over with. “What?” she said, picking up her mug.