Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (133 page)

“Merry Christmas,” Christie said, her voice choked.

“Why are you crying?” James asked, drawing his wife into his
arms.

“I…I always wanted a…dog.”

“I know.”

Christie threw her arms around James's neck.

Teri took the basket out of Beth's arms. “Thank you so much for
bringing over the puppy.”

“I was happy to,” Beth said. “I know this little girl will have
a wonderful home, so thank
you.
”

“Our pleasure,” Christie murmured.

James kissed her forehead. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he said
again. “I thought we could name her Chessie.”

“Chessie! Of course.” Christie laughed.

“You'll get your gift later,” she promised in a husky
voice.

James turned three shades of red. “I'll hold you to that,” he
said. “Now come and meet your dog.”

Fifteen

A
fter dropping off the puppy at the
Polgars', Beth headed back to her house on Christmas Tree Lane. She'd enjoyed
her brief visit with Bobby and Teri and James and Christie. The two couples were
obviously devoted to one another. Watching them all working together, assembling
toys for the triplets, reminded Beth of those early years with Kent. Finances
had been tight back then, but they'd managed; their happiness had more than
compensated for the luxuries they'd done without. She missed those times, and
yes, she missed Kent, too.

On the way home Beth felt empty inside. For three years she'd
pretended she was happy. Pretended she'd rather live her life without Kent. It'd
all been a lie.

And now it was too late.

The girls would be getting ready for evening services at the
church and the three of them would arrive together. Kent had said he might
attend, as well, but she knew he'd sit with Danielle, not with Beth and the
girls. That made sense, but it was another blow she wasn't ready to deal
with.

While waiting at a red light, she saw the open sign at Mocha
Mama's. Because she didn't want to return home until she'd regained control of
her emotions, she decided to go in. Stopping for a quick cup of coffee would
give her a chance to sort through her feelings, to better understand what was
happening and accept the reality that she had lost Kent for good. The life
they'd once had was truly over.

She pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine.
Sitting in the car, she pressed her hand over her eyes as unfamiliar and
unwelcome emotions swirled through her. This Christmas was nothing like she'd
anticipated. For weeks she'd looked forward to her children's visit. She'd
carefully planned events, shopped, wrapped gifts, cooked their favorite meals.
What she realized now was that she'd done it for Kent, too. Since he was coming
to Cedar Cove for the holiday, she'd wanted to remind him of what they'd had. Of
everything that was gone now, but could…perhaps…be recovered. She hadn't even
acknowledged this to herself. Not really.

What made it all so impossible was Danielle. Facing the ghosts
of Christmas past, back when she and Kent were so much in love, only depressed
her now.

When Beth entered the coffee shop, she saw that it was nearly
deserted. A teenager stood behind the counter, playing a handheld game. He
didn't seem to notice he had a customer.

“Hello! I'd like a decaf Americano,” she said briskly.

Startled, the kid glanced up. He blinked and reluctantly set
aside his game. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks.” She paid, adding a nice Christmas tip, and waited
for her coffee.

A couple of minutes later he delivered it in a to-go cup, which
was fine, although she wasn't in any rush to leave. Carrying it with her, she
chose a table by the window, one that overlooked Harbor Street.

She gazed out at the serene and yet festive view of the town's
main street. Garlands were strung across it. Silver bells dangled from the
lampposts, and the town had never seemed more inviting. A light dusting of snow
glistened on the large Christmas tree, which blinked red and green lights,
outside city hall, while Christmas carols were broadcast from the bell
tower.

“I wondered if that was your car outside.”

Stunned by the familiar voice, Beth turned. Kent stood next to
her small table, although she hadn't seen him come in.

“What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly.

“I decided to take a drive—”

“Where's your friend? Danielle?” she interrupted.

“At the Thyme and Tide. Resting. And, Beth, she really is a
friend.”

Sure she was. Ex-husbands usually traveled with
friends.
But apparently the headache was real.

“She took a couple of aspirin and is lying down.”

Beth cupped her hands around the paper cup, the heat of the
coffee stinging her palms. “I hope she feels better soon.”

“She'll be fine.” Without waiting for an invitation, Kent
pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.

“You want a coffee, sir?” the kid behind the counter called
out.

“Sure. I'll have whatever she's having,” he said.

“You got it,” Mr. Gameboy said with a promptness he hadn't
demonstrated earlier. Maybe her generous tip had something to do with it.

“You looked deep in thought when I walked in,” Kent said,
relaxing against the back of the chair. He extended his legs into the aisle,
crossing them at the ankles. He seemed so comfortable, so calm, as if he hadn't
a care in the world.

Beth stared at her ex-husband, unable to grasp how he could
remain so unaffected by what had happened between them.

Perhaps Beth was the only one who had regrets, who wanted to
examine the reasons their marriage had failed. What did it matter, anyway? she
reflected darkly. Kent was with Danielle. He'd moved on, and she should,
too.

“Beth?” he said, breaking into her thoughts.

She looked over at him, wondering what he'd just said.

“You worried about something?”

“Of course not,” she said, forcing a brightness into her voice.
“Why would you think that?”

“You never were much of a liar.”

Beth shrugged, knowing it was true.

“Why are you out here, anyway?”

“I dropped off a puppy. A Christmas gift.”

He seemed to be waiting for her to explain why she hadn't gone
directly home. If she knew the answer to that question, she wouldn't be sipping
blistering hot coffee and feeling as if the entire world was against her.

“So, how long have you and Ted been…friends?”

“Oh, for some time now.”

“Is it serious?”

“No.” She managed a nonchalant smile. “Perhaps I should've
clarified that. I routinely see Ted on a professional basis—and yes, we've been
out socially.” She didn't mention the few kisses they'd shared because, frankly,
it wasn't any of his business. When it came to
his
friend, she'd rather not know.

“But it could develop into something serious?” he asked.

This was even more difficult to answer. “I suppose. If we both
wanted it to.”

“And do you?”

She stared down into her coffee to avoid looking at him.

“No.” Then she quickly shook her head. “Well, maybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeated slowly.

“It depends.”

“On what?” he prodded.

Beth straightened. “I'd rather not talk about Ted and me. I
didn't ask you about Danielle.”

“True.” He nodded. “All right, what
do
you want to talk about?”

“Do we need to talk about anything?”

He hesitated. “I guess not.”

The kid brought over Kent's coffee and he paid for it. He was
about to take his first sip when Beth warned him, “Careful, it's hot.”

Kent sipped his coffee guardedly and grimaced. “You're
right.”

Beth took another sip of her own coffee, which had cooled
slightly. “The puppy I delivered—it was to the Polgars.”

“Polgar. That's an unusual name. As in Bobby Polgar, the chess
champion?”

“Yes, he lives in Cedar Cove.”

“Bobby Polgar lives here?” Kent arched his brows, clearly
impressed.

“His wife is, or rather was, a local hairdresser. She's a
wonderful, wonderful person.”

“You mean to tell me Bobby Polgar married a beautician?” Kent
grinned, as if the idea amused him.

“Don't say it like that. Teri's perfect for Bobby and now they
have triplet sons....”

“And they took a puppy?”

“Actually, no. The puppy was for Teri's sister.”

“What did you want to say about the Polgars?” Kent asked.

“I…I was remembering how it was with us when the girls were
little.”

“We talked about that earlier.”

“We did,” she agreed. “Those early Christmases, the basement
apartment, those silly gingerbread decorations I sewed.”

“What you're really saying is that you wonder what happened to
us.”

So Kent was the one brave enough to lay it on the table, the
subject neither of them had been willing to broach until now.

Beth suppressed the urge to say it was too late. All of a
sudden, she didn't want to dig up the past anymore, a past that was full of
hurts and slights committed on both sides. If they dug too deep, she didn't know
what they might uncover. Anyway, what was the point? They weren't together
anymore. He had a new life and so did she.

Another part of her, the more rational part, recognized that
unless she knew why her relationship with Kent had dissolved, history might
repeat itself. If she did fall in love with Ted, she could revert to the same
pattern that had destroyed her marriage to Kent.

“I don't think we can or should assign blame,” Kent said,
sitting up. He leaned forward and extended his arms, cupping his coffee between
his hands. “So…I guess we should figure out what went wrong.”

Beth swallowed hard, unsure where to start. She couldn't.

“Do you want to go first?” he asked. Kent, too, apparently
found it difficult.

“No. You go.”

“All right.” He took a breath. “Once the girls got their
driver's licenses, they didn't seem to need me anymore. They had their own
lives. And that's the way it should be.”

“A father's more than a chauffeur,” she said with the glimmer
of a smile. “But I know what you mean. They were becoming adults, so our role as
parents changed.”

He nodded. “And you had your career, while I had mine.”

“At some point, without even being aware of it, we lost sight
of what's important,” Beth said. “And then it became a matter of pride, as if
the most vital thing was proving how little we needed each other.”

He nodded again.

“You stopped attending college social functions with me, and I
retaliated by not attending your business dinners.”

He lowered his gaze. “I'm sorry, but I found them boring.”

“They were.” She'd be the first to admit it.

“You always made them fun, though—in a slightly scandalous
way,” he said, grinning. “I got all the gossip. We'd stand in a corner and you'd
tell me the most inappropriate stories.”

“And you'd embarrass me by laughing at the most inappropriate
times,” she reminded him, and had trouble not breaking into giggles right
then.

They looked at each other in silence.

“We both got absorbed in our lives, apart from each other,” he
finally said.

“We became strangers who happened to be married.”

“I can't think of a single defining incident, an event that
triggered the end of our marriage. Can you?”

“Not really.” It was more an accumulation of grudges, of minor
slights and careless acts. Oh, there were plenty of small decisions Beth had
made through the years. Decisions that seemed inconsequential, insignificant.
For some reason she thought of the morning Kent had asked her to drop off a
letter at the post office. It was on her way to the college, while he was
driving in the opposite direction. She told him she couldn't because she was
running late. Really, how much time would it have taken? A minute? Two? Kent
hadn't complained. He'd dropped off the letter himself.

Then there was the night she'd phoned and asked Kent to pick up
bread and milk on his way home from work and he forgot. Such a little thing, but
it had annoyed her no end.

At some stage she must have decided to ask nothing more of
Kent. Was that when the pettiness began? When they turned to a silent battle of
wills? How ridiculous they'd been. How silly and selfish and juvenile. No wonder
their marriage had crumbled into pieces....

Beth visualized the slights, the put-downs, the irritations on
both sides as pebbles, each a small stone in the growing pile that eventually
crushed their marriage. Kent was right; it hadn't been any one thing. Nothing
big. No infidelity. No drugs or alcohol abuse. No money problems.

“Folks,” the teenager said. He stood in front of their table
with a tray and a white rag. “We're closing now.”

“Oh.” Feeling disjointed, Beth looked up.

“Normally I wouldn't mind staying while you finished your
coffee, but it's Christmas Eve and my grandma's at the house.”

“No problem,” Kent said. He took one last drink of his coffee
and left the cup on the table. “Thanks, and merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Beth echoed. She left her cup behind,
too.

Kent walked her to her car. He seemed to have more he wanted to
say. Beth knew she did. Perhaps later…

“I'll see you at the church in twenty minutes,” Kent said. He
tucked his hands inside his pockets. “Bob at the B and B told me where it
is.”