The Stillwater Bay Collection (Books 1-4): Stillwater Bay Series Boxed Set Page 4

  “What about Sunday then? Just go for a drive?”

  “Sure. Want me to order a picnic lunch?”

  “From Gina’s?” Jordan’s eyes lit up. “See if she’ll make her famous couscous salad again.” Jordan checked himself in the mirror and then grabbed his wallet, stuffing it in the back pocket of his pants. “I need to run, but I’ll meet you tonight. Oh, I made coffee.”

  Once he left, Charlotte finished getting dressed, chose a pair of dress sandals to wear, and headed downstairs, where half a pot of coffee waited. She poured herself a cup and then headed into her study.

  On Fridays she liked to take it a bit easy. She worked from home for the first few hours and then headed into her office downtown. Today she had a few proposals to read over, and then she’d meet Jenn over at Gina’s for coffee.

  The first thing she wanted to do was see what kind of help she could get Tyler’s wife, Sandy. With a new baby and a toddler, the poor woman was probably exhausted, and it wasn’t so much that she was needy, but just that she needed help—help her husband no doubt never thought to give her. Charlotte had never really liked Tyler—there was something about him that always set her on edge. She couldn’t put her finger on it . . . it might be the way he talked down to women, or how he expected Sandy to wait on him hand and foot, but the fact that he was one of her husband’s best friends didn’t help.

  Jordan and Tyler knew each other from college. There was a history she couldn’t break between them. So many times during the early years of their marriage, Tyler would show up on one of their nights out, or pop over late at night and stay for hours on end, drinking and being loud while she was trying to sleep.

  “Jordan’s glad I’m not needy,” she mumbled to herself. That bothered her, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. Of course she wasn’t needy; she never wanted to be one of those wives. But it was the way he’d said it. . . . What if something happened in their lives and she needed him? Would he find her bothersome? Irritating? Her independence and self-reliance were things he’d found attractive when they’d first met.

  She glanced at the time and picked up the phone.

  “Hey, girl,” she said once Jenn answered.

  “I was waiting for you to call.”

  Charlotte leaned back in her chair. “Really? Why is that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It’s Friday and you’re antsy without being in the office. What time are we meeting at Gina’s?” There was a teasing tilt to Jenn’s voice. Her best friend knew her way too well.

  “How about after you drop the kids off at school?”

  Charlotte waited for a few seconds while she heard banging on the other end of the phone.

  “What’s going on?”

  Jenn grunted and swore beneath her breath, and then Charlotte heard the phone drop. There was more muttering, a bit more swearing, and then the sound of running water drowned out anything else Jenn had to say.

  Charlotte waited, scenarios running through her head as to what had just happened. No doubt she burned her fingers or hand while taking cookies, some pastry, or muffins out of the oven. It was very rare that Jenn didn’t bake something first thing in the morning.

  “I forgot to use an oven mitt. Augh. Gina’s, after school, right?”

  “If that works.” That gave her time to get a little bit of work done, but not enough time to get swamped.

  “Totally works. There’s something I want to talk to you about too, so it’s great timing.”

  Charlotte perked up at this. “Oh, really? Like what?”

  “Just . . .” Jenn’s voice lowered. “Remember that thing I told you I was going to do?”

  Charlotte sat straight up in her chair. “You did it? I thought you were only thinking about it. Are you sure?”

  The sound of a long puff of air came through the phone.

  “No, I’m not sure. But I have to do something.”

  Charlotte leaned back in her chair. “What’s your end goal in all this? A wake-up call, or are you actually going to leave him?”

  Charlotte knew Jenn was unhappy in her marriage, but she honestly never thought she’d follow through with doing anything about it. Jenn and Robert were a team, similar to her and Jordan. They were the foundation of this town—Robert worked on the town council and Jenn took care of the volunteer committee for the summer fair—and to be honest, Charlotte wasn’t sure how to react right now: as a friend or as the mayor, who knew there would be huge consequences. Robert and Jenn were a team, and Charlotte needed them to remain that way, as callous as that sounded.

  “I . . .” Jenn paused. “The kids are up. Let’s chat later.”

  “Are you okay?” There was something in Jenn’s voice . . . something Charlotte hadn’t heard in a long time.

  “Just . . . later.”

  Charlotte heard Jenn’s kids in the background. Little Bobby’s voice was high-pitched, and from the loud thump she heard, she could picture him jumping off the stairs. Charity’s voice was a bit muffled, but Charlotte knew Jenn’s focus was now on her children. The way it should be.

  Charlotte hung up the phone and quashed a little tingle of jealousy as she thought of Jenn’s dedication to her family. Together, she and Jordan had made a decision years ago not to have children, a choice she’d never regretted. Her focus was on her town, on the families of Stillwater Bay. She knew that throwing their own children into the mix would only complicate matters. And when she made a decision, she embraced it with every fiber in her being. It was what made her so good at her job.

  Once, years ago, her mother had told her she never wanted grandchildren. At the time, Charlotte had been a bit annoyed, and accused her mom of taking her personal hesitations toward Jordan too far, but then she’d said something that shook Charlotte to the core.

  Don’t do to your children what we did to you. It’s not worth it. Love them enough to not put them through it.

  Charlotte grew up believing the feeling of love could never be trusted, that it never lasted and her mom was right. When she thought about Jordan . . . They worked well as a team, but that thing, that feeling that was supposed to be between a husband and wife . . . it wasn’t there anymore, and she felt a little empty inside because of it.

  Charlotte’s cell phone vibrated with a text message.

  Good time to call?

  She shook her head at the timing of her mom’s message before picking up her cordless phone and calling her directly.

  “I hope I’m not bothering you,” her mother said in her usual quiet voice.

  “Not at all. I was actually going to call you later,” Charlotte fibbed.

  “I’m sure I was on your list of things to do today.” The sigh from her mother had Charlotte clenching her teeth.

  “You’re never on my ‘list,’ Mother.” It was the same conversation they had every week. Her mother would sigh and claim she didn’t want to bother Charlotte, whom she knew had to be busy, and Charlotte would reassure her that she was never a bother.

  Every single time.

  “I was wondering if you’d both like to come by tonight for dinner?”

  Charlotte’s brows rose.

  “I was just there on Monday.” She made it a point to stop by the retirement home as often as she could.

  “Oh, I know. But. . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “But what?” This wasn’t like her mother. She rarely asked after Jordan, and when she did, it was only to be polite when others were around.

  “Well, you see, some of the ladies here . . .”

  The silence stretched on between them until Charlotte couldn’t handle it any longer.

  “The ladies what?”

  Her mother sighed. “The ladies would like him to come by with some of the kids again.”

  “Then have Dorothea Peters call the school. She did last time.” Dorothea was the manager of the Stillwater Retirement Home and had often requested that Jordan bring students over to interact with the seniors there. The kids would sing songs, put on plays, and
spend time with their family members.

  “Well, see, that’s the problem. She has, but Jordan hasn’t returned her calls.”

  “And you’re willing to spend an evening with him over dinner in order to convince him?” Charlotte doubted that very much.

  “Well . . . could you maybe talk to him?” The hope in her mother’s voice was almost too much.

  For some reason, her mom didn’t like Charlotte’s husband. She said it was her motherly intuition, that she knew the moment she’d first met Jordan and he’d forgotten to wipe his shoes on the doormat, but sometimes Charlotte wondered. Her mother took to most people, welcoming them with open arms . . . except the man Charlotte chose to be her husband. It didn’t help that when Jordan first asked her to marry him, he’d forgotten to honor the time-old tradition of asking her father, despite the fact that they were both old enough to make their own decisions and her mother and father had been divorced for more than ten years and barely spoke to each other. It didn’t matter—her mother was still deeply offended. And then, while she and Jordan were planning their wedding, her mother had wanted to be involved. Not realizing that there was a special way to handle her mother, Jordan had been up-front and reminded her that this wasn’t her wedding to plan; it was Charlotte’s. Throughout the years, things had not improved, and Charlotte had just learned to leave it alone.

  “Yes, I’ll talk to him.”

  “Good. Why don’t you come over for dinner then?”

  But not Jordan. Go figure.

  “I already have dinner plans. But I can pop over later today if you’re free.” Charlotte opened her calendar and looked to see when she had time in the afternoon.

  “Oh, that won’t work. There’s a Scrabble tournament today.”

  Scrabble.

  “Okay, well, how about I take you out for breakfast tomorrow?”

  “As long as you have time, dear. I don’t want to get in the way. You’re always so busy.”

  And here we go again.

  “Never too busy for you.”

  “Well, only if you’re sure. Maybe ask Julia to come too? It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her.”

  “Julia? Aren’t you still doing your weekly coffee with her?” Charlotte had first met Julia when the other woman had worked at the retirement home as the resident manager.

  “Well . . . we kind of put it on hold, with all the issues she’s been having with her boy and all.” Her mother hedged a bit on that sentence, and Charlotte picked up on it right away.

  “What do you mean, issues?” And why hadn’t Julia told her about this?

  “Oh, you know . . . he’s been getting blamed for all that disgusting artwork some kid is doing all over town. But it’s not him; it can’t be. He has issues, but he’s not a bad kid.”

  The graffiti was being blamed on Gabriel? Why didn’t Charlotte know about this? The last she’d heard, it was a small group of boys from another town on a joyride that had already ended weeks ago.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, of course I am. I may be old, but I’m not senile, you know.”

  There were two sides to the coin she called Mother: Either she played the role of being meek and mild and downright pathetic, or she took offense to any little thing. What had happened to the strong, utterly independent, opinionated woman who had raised her? The doctor said it was just old age and normal, but Charlotte wasn’t so sure.

  “I’ll give her a call and see if she can join us, okay?”

  “Well, don’t go out of your way.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom.”

  Pushing thoughts of her mother to the background, Charlotte turned on her computer and pulled up her e-mails. Systematically she went through them, labeling them in terms of importance and then placing them into folders to be dealt with later. She moved a number of them into Sheila’s folder and marked them as unread, knowing her assistant would handle them later on. She made sure to e-mail Jordan about her mother’s request, and then her thoughts turned to the dinner tomorrow night. It’d been a few days since she’d last chatted with Lacie, and Charlotte wondered how she was doing. She’d seen some notes from her assistant about Lacie volunteering to take on some family events this summer for the town, but Charlotte was worried that she was taking on way too much.

  As the pastor’s wife from Stillwater Faith Community Church, the largest church in Stillwater after the Catholic Church, Lacie was the person everyone went to when it came to women or mother issues in the community. Lacie not only helped to run a mothers’-day-out group during the week, but held parenting classes through the church as well.

  She picked up the phone to call the other woman and caught her just as she was heading out the door. When she asked whether Lacie had time to chat later, Charlotte found out Scott planned to come home early.

  “Is he sick?” she asked. Scott rarely left the church early. A few times, Lacie had grumbled about the fact that he seemed more married to the Church than to her.

  “No,” Lacie hedged.

  “Everything okay?” Charlotte didn’t want to prod too much, but she had a feeling she needed to.

  “Everything is good.”

  “Don’t you use that tone with me, Lacie Helman.” She hated when Lacie used her pastor’s-wife voice she’d perfected over the years. They chatted a bit longer before Charlotte asked, “Why don’t you come by Gina’s after Emily arrives? I’m meeting Jenn for coffee.”

  Once they hung up, Charlotte glanced down at an updated proposal on changes to their summer festival. She couldn’t wait for the festival to begin. This year would be their greatest one yet, and despite saying that every year, she really believed it. Jordan had some excellent ideas on how to better incorporate the school grounds this year, which worked great with their need to expand. The annual parade always started from the school parking lot and ended at the community center parking lot.

  There were so many activities planned this summer to help draw in vacationing families, and Charlotte was excited. The more families who came to Stillwater Bay for their holidays meant a better fiscal year for the businesses.

  And when everyone succeeded, she knew she’d done her job.

  Which reminded her, she needed to talk to Julia Berry, the owner of the Treasure Chest and one of her close friends. Julia was a godsend to her in more ways than Charlotte would ever admit. They’d gone through a few rough patches in their friendship, especially after they’d first met.

  Charlotte had literally bumped into the woman at the retirement home as Julia came out of her mom’s room, giggling like a schoolgirl. Her mom had taken to Julia, at that time the new resident manager, and that piqued Charlotte’s interest, since her mother didn’t take to many people anymore. Every time she went to visit her, her mother always had Julia at her side, whether it was in her room or sharing a pot of tea in the cafeteria. Eventually Charlotte asked the woman out to Gina’s for coffee one day, and they just hit it off.

  Their friendship grew over the next month or two, until suddenly Julia stopped taking her calls and made it very obvious she didn’t want anything to do with Charlotte.

  Charlotte didn’t let it bother her much. Things were tense at home, and Jordan had started to talk about looking for another job and moving, an idea Charlotte was dead-set against. Stillwater Bay was their home. Her home. She wasn’t moving.

  It wasn’t until a year or so later, when Julia came to the town hall to lease store space for her new shop, that they picked up their friendship again. They never really spoke of what had happened in the past, and anytime Charlotte mentioned Gabriel in passing, Julia would steer the subject away, until Charlotte realized their friendship would be social and not intimate. Which was okay with her. She had enough close friends, like Lacie and Jenn, who knew enough about her personal life; she didn’t need to pour her heart out to someone else.

  Charlotte wanted to talk to Julia about a business idea: She’d spoken with Ethan Poole, the manager of
the clubhouse up at the golf course, and he’d agreed to host a few of the more upscale items from Julia’s boutique that would appeal to women golfers. Charlotte was excited about the opportunity and knew Julia would be as well.

  With that added to her list of things to do, Charlotte pushed her chair back and smiled.

  Nothing made her happier than when she had reasons to focus on the town. Nothing.

  4

  GRACE BRYAR

  She’d never felt happier. Ever. Other than on her wedding day, but right now, in this moment, her life was . . . perfect.

  The widest smile spread across Grace’s face, and she giggled from the sheer joy that welled up in her heart.

  She was going to have a baby!

  The latest pregnancy test was in her hand, but the other two she’d taken this morning were on the bathroom counter, and all three had the same pink plus sign on them.

  John would most likely roll his eyes at her overdoing it on the tests, but she needed to make sure. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten a false positive, but surely three tests couldn’t be wrong.

  They couldn’t.

  Grace breathed in deep, letting the joy of this moment seep into her very soul. She was going to have a baby. After so many tries and disappointments, her wish was finally coming true.

  She couldn’t wait to tell John, but it needed to be at the right time. Maybe tonight . . . She could plan a nice dinner with dessert and give him a little present. . . . He would love it.

  She almost wished today were Saturday and she could celebrate by going shopping, maybe into a nearby town that had great baby shops. There was a store on Main Street that carried a few gift items, like rattles, booties, and picture frames, but she wanted something different . . . something really special. Like maybe some wool to make her own baby blanket and a journal that she could start writing in. She’d always wanted to write letters to her baby.