1105 Yakima Street

Lori was right, and he couldn’t dispute that. The sooner they found a new place, the better.

Seven

Rachel wasn’t sure that seeing Bruce was a good idea. He’d been persistent, however, and after several conversations about it, she’d finally given in. They’d agreed to meet at the Pancake Palace after work. When she arrived, a few minutes late, Bruce’s car was already parked out front; he’d probably shown up right at five. She wondered if he’d told Jolene where he was going, and doubted he had. Bruce liked to keep the peace. After all, he’d let his daughter take charge of his life and their marriage. Rachel was astonished that she’d stuck around as long as she had. The situation was emotionally unhealthy for all three of them.

Rachel parked several spots down from his car, hesitated for a moment, half tempted to flee, and then locked up. When she entered the restaurant she saw Bruce immediately. He’d chosen a booth facing the door. He smiled as he stood to greet her. Funny how a simple smile could affect her so strongly. She smiled back, accepted his kiss on the cheek and slid into the booth across from him.

“Hi,” he said eagerly, his eyes filled with longing. He stretched his arms across the table and clasped her hands as if he needed to touch her. “You look fantastic.” “Thanks.” She’d taken extra care with her hair and makeup, although she tried not to have high expectations about this meeting.

“You’re feeling better?” he asked. “No problems with the pregnancy?”

“None,” she assured him.

“Everything okay at work?”

She nodded. The past five days, following the fiasco at the salon, had been relatively calm. Jane hadn’t been happy with her afterward, and Rachel couldn’t blame her, but fortunately there’d been no further reference to it.

One night recently when she hadn’t been able to sleep, Rachel had gotten up for a glass of milk and found Nate in the kitchen. They’d talked for almost an hour. He’d been sympathetic, although never intrusive. During this conversation with Nate, she’d realized with greater clarity than ever why Bruce acted the way he did. He hated confrontation and would do anything to avoid it. He coped by ignoring conflicts and tension, by wishing them away. He didn’t want to be caught between his wife and his daughter. She couldn’t fault him for preferring to keep the peace, but his approach didn’t work.

“You need to look after yourself and the baby,” Bruce was saying.

Alicia, the waitress, appeared in her pink uniform with the starched white apron. She automatically poured Bruce a coffee.

“Decaf for me,” Rachel told her.

“Coming right up. How about a piece of pie to go with that?”

“None for me,” Bruce said.

Alicia scowled at him. “I wasn’t asking you. She’s the one who could use a little meat on her bones.”

“No, thanks,” Rachel said, squelching a smile.

Alicia set the coffeepot on the table and started to enumerate the day’s selection of pies. “We got apple, blueberry, coconut cream and peach. The apple’s my favorite but you choose.”

“I …” Rachel looked at Bruce, who was grinning from ear to ear, apparently approving of Alicia’s tactics.

“Apple, it is,” the waitress announced, picked up the coffeepot and hurried into the kitchen.

“She’s almost as bossy as Goldie,” Bruce said, chuckling.

Goldie had been at the Pancake Palace forever, while Alicia, who’d started there maybe twenty years ago, was a relative newcomer.

Actually, a piece of apple pie did sound good. With all this stress—the pregnancy, the separation, the emotional upheaval—Rachel had lost weight she could ill afford to lose.

Alicia reappeared with the decaf and a thick slice of apple pie. “Enjoy,” she said.

“I will.” Rachel reached for her fork but didn’t try even a bite. She needed to hear what Bruce had to say, why he’d wanted to meet. Clutching the fork, she waited until Alicia was out of earshot. “You asked to see me.”

“Yes. It’s time you came home,” Bruce said starkly. “You’re my wife and I love you. You living somewhere else—it’s just plain wrong.” His voice fell. “I worry about you and the baby.”

She knew he meant every word, but nothing about their situation had improved. Judging by the incident at the mall, Jolene was as angry and caustic as ever. Rachel wasn’t wanted nor was she appreciated by her stepdaughter, and her husband wouldn’t deal with the girl’s hostility. Rachel refused to return to an environment that was unhealthy for her and her unborn child.

“What’s changed?” she asked. With great precision, she set the fork aside and studied Bruce.

He cupped his mug with both hands and stared down at it. “I have.” He took in a deep breath. “I failed you as a husband by choosing to ignore the obvious. I hoped the two of you would work it out on your own instead of doing what I could to help. If you come back, I promise I won’t let Jolene say or do anything disrespectful.”

“Bruce, that isn’t enough. I’m sorry but this isn’t going to be resolved just because you tell Jolene to respect me.” Besides, he might be able to control his daughter while he was in the house, although she doubted it, but there were plenty of times when she and Jolene were alone.

His sigh revealed his impatience. “Okay, tell me exactly what you want.”

“I want,” she said emphatically, “to get to the root of the problem and that means seeing a counselor. A family counselor,” she specified. “A professional trained to deal with situations like this.”

“Okay.” He drew out the word.

His reluctance was evident. He’d said yes to counseling a little while ago but it was obviously the last thing he wanted. Bruce had never been keen on the idea of pouring out their personal troubles to a stranger. For her part, Jolene had been violently opposed from the first. It was one of the factors that had led to Rachel’s leaving. “I’ve heard that before and nothing happened. I’d make an appointment and you’d find a reason to cancel or forget or—”

“I only canceled the one time.”

“You said you’d make the next appointment but you didn’t.”

He glanced down at the table. “I—I’ll go. No more excuses. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring you home.”

Rachel reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “That’s a start.”

“But I can tell you right now that Jolene won’t go,” Bruce continued. “And I don’t know how to get her to agree.”

“Still, a trained professional can teach us how to deal with her.”

Bruce frowned. “You really believe that?”

“Of course. Don’t you?”

He held her look for a long moment, then shook his head. “I’ll go because it’s what you want, but I don’t hold out a lot of hope that someone neither of us knows is going to help in this situation.”

“In other words, you think counseling is a waste of time?” She spoke slowly, letting him know how much his comment discouraged her.

“The thing is, Rachel, if Jolene begs off, which she already said she intends to do, what will we get out of counseling?”

Sometimes Rachel had to wonder which one of those two was the parent. Bruce had more or less told her everything she needed to hear. Without even sipping her coffee or taking a bite of the pie, Rachel slid out of the booth. What was a waste of time was meeting Bruce. Despite what he’d said, nothing had changed, nor would it. Bruce just wanted their lives to go back to what he thought of as “normal”—the way they’d been this past year. But Rachel would no longer tolerate Jolene’s behavior toward her.

“Where are you going?” Bruce asked, standing, too. He grabbed for her hand as if to stop her.

“All you care about is talking me into moving back home, and you’ll say whatever it takes. Sweeping our problems under the carpet isn’t going to work.”

“I said I’d go to counseling,” Bruce insisted.

Rachel was sure he’d attend one or two sessions, but then he’d find some excuse to cancel. Jolene would simply refuse to go, and Bruce would be powerless to make her. Rachel wasn’t willing to accept half measures. When and if she moved back home, their circumstances had to be completely different.