Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (92 page)

“Sorry I'm late.”

“Actually, it worked out fine. Miranda,” he said, turning to his assistant, “would you take over for me?”

The other woman nodded and smiled at Olivia.

“Shall we go to my office?” Will asked.

“Please.”

He followed her inside, closed the door, then took a seat on one of his visitor chairs. Olivia took the other one, perching on the edge with her hands in her lap.

“I understand the repairs on Mom's house are just about finished,” Will said, introducing the topic she'd come to discuss.

“That's right. As you can imagine, Mom and Ben are eager to go home.” It was all her mother talked about these days—how soon she'd be back in her own kitchen.

“Of course they're eager,” Will said. “And I'm sure you and Jack are, too. Having them live with you couldn't have been easy.”

Her brother didn't know the half of it. Olivia and Jack had each gained at least five pounds with all the desserts Charlotte had baked in the past few weeks. Charlotte made it difficult to say no; she was persistent and
obviously felt hurt when they tried to decline her cookies, pies and cakes. Olivia's plan to freeze Charlotte's bounty hadn't worked; for one thing, they'd quickly run out of room. As well, the house had been thoroughly cleaned from top to bottom, and nothing was back in its proper place. When asked, Charlotte would gaze blankly at Olivia and assure her she'd put everything exactly where she'd found it. Olivia understood that her mother was only trying to help. She and Ben were considerate, too, giving her and Jack their privacy in the evenings by staying in their own part of the house. And they kept Harry's litter box in their en suite bathroom; most of the time Olivia wasn't even aware of his presence.

“From what I hear, Jack enjoys Mom's cooking.” Will didn't attempt to hide his smile.

“We both do and that's another problem. Mom takes great pride in feeding us huge meals. We haven't eaten this well since last Thanksgiving. The problem is, the feast's continued for five solid weeks. Mom's made it her mission to cook all our favorite meals—chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, every kind of dessert. I'm just glad we haven't gained
twenty
pounds each.”

“Olivia, you shock me. Where's your willpower? I've always thought of you as the one with self-discipline.”

“Me? I blame Jack. He keeps saying we should enjoy this while it lasts. Not only that, I hate to hurt Mom's feelings.”

“Well, they'll be going home soon.”

“I'm not so sure…” Olivia hesitated. “I know we've already talked about this, but these past few weeks have opened my eyes. It's made me realize that the situation is more urgent than we thought. We'll need to do something sooner rather than later about finding an assisted-living place.”

The smile disappeared from her brother's face, and Olivia knew what he was thinking. They'd decided a couple of weeks ago that Charlotte and Ben should go back to the house for the time being, while the two of them investigated other housing options. Will had even added a few extras to the kitchen upgrades as an early Christmas gift.

Olivia and Will hadn't lined up any seniors' residence visits yet, although they had a list of possibilities provided by Jack.

“What happened?” Will asked.

“Well, things appear to be escalating. For example, Mom washed several loads of the same clothes twice. She'd taken them out of the dryer and put them in the laundry basket and then the next morning rewashed the same load.”

Will frowned. “She forgot she'd already washed those clothes?”

Olivia nodded.

“That's just a mistake.”

“I'd think so, too, but as I said, it happened more than once.”

Will leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together. “Anything else?”

“I didn't keep a list, although now I wish I had. There've been a bunch of little things and some not-so-little things. Here's another example. Grace put aside a mystery at the library Mom said she wanted to read. Then Mom claimed she'd never heard of the book or the author.
Then
she misplaced it two or three times. Jack found it in the refrigerator once and—”

“The
refrigerator?
” Will seemed to find that especially humorous.

“We all got a kick out of it, but when she misplaced it
again, Ben found it tucked between the mattress and the box spring.”

“Like she was hiding it?”

“Exactly.”

Will shook his head.

“It might've gone undetected except that we started getting late notices from the library—and Ben kept complaining that the mattress was hurting his back. So he decided to look and…there it was.”

“Did Mom remember putting it there?”

“No. In fact, she forgot she was even reading the book.”

Her brother took a moment to mull this over.

“This is more than just a case of forgetfulness,” Olivia felt obliged to say. “As we've discussed, Mom is either suffering from dementia or in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's.”

“What about the appointment you made for her with the gerontologist?”

She threw back her head, groaning in frustration. “Mom forgot the appointment. Ben was supposed to take her, but either he forgot, too, or he fell asleep. We couldn't reschedule until after the first of the year.”

“Oh, no…”

“I reminded her that morning, too. I even put a note on the fridge.”

“Next time I'll take her,” Will suggested.

“Good idea, but, Will, it isn't just Mom. Obviously Ben hasn't been doing that well, either.”

Will brought his hands up to his face. “Okay, he didn't remember the gerontology appointment. What else?”

“All this trouble with his son over Mary Jo and Noelle has taken its toll. Ben tires so easily these days. He takes a nap every afternoon. A
long
nap.”

“Well, that explains missing the appointment.” He paused. “
Every
afternoon?”

“Yes, and Harry, too. It's the only time I see the cat. He crawls into Ben's lap and the two of them snooze away pretty much the whole afternoon, seven days a week. Ben's mind isn't as sharp as it once was, either. Mom shows more signs of memory loss, but Ben isn't far behind.”

Will exhaled slowly. “Are you saying you don't think they should return to the house at all? Not even for the short term?”

Olivia nodded regretfully. “I'm afraid Mom might forget to turn off the stove again and next time we might not be so fortunate.”

“Who's going to talk to them about this?” The way he asked implied that he wanted to nominate her.

“I thought we should tell them together.”

“Okaaay,” he drawled. “Do you have any idea about how to approach them?”

“Not yet. I think it might be wise to know exactly where they should move first, don't you? Or at least have some options to present. We have a list but I haven't got around to doing anything about it yet.”

Will sighed, then nodded. “If you want to make us some appointments, we—”

Someone knocked politely at the office door. Will looked mildly surprised. “Yes?” he called out.

Miranda opened the door a few inches. “Excuse me, but Shirley Bliss is here—”

Will was instantly on his feet, his face eager. “Shirley's here?”

“With Larry Knight.”

Will's smile faded as quickly as it had come. “She's
with Larry,” he muttered, as if he found the other man's name distasteful.

“They'd like to speak to you for a moment.”

“Sure, send them in,” Will said. He remained standing as Miranda ushered Shirley and Larry into the office.

Will made introductions; Shirley smiled and Larry shook hands with Olivia.

“I hope we're not interrupting anything important,” Shirley apologized.

“It's fine,” Will said. “Olivia and I were discussing a family matter. What can I do for you?”

Larry placed his arm around Shirley's waist. “We wanted to tell you in person that I've asked Shirley to be my wife.”

Olivia noticed that Will's smile looked decidedly forced.

“If it wasn't for you, I never would've met Larry.” Shirley held out her left hand and displayed a beautiful solitaire diamond ring.

“Have you set the date?” Will asked.

“Not yet,” Shirley said.

“But it'll be soon,” Larry added. “I've been alone long enough. I want Shirley with me.”

“I'm so grateful you asked me to attend that show at the Seattle Art Museum,” Shirley said, her expression radiant. “I almost decided not to go and I'm so glad I did.”

“Congratulations,” Olivia told the happy couple. If Will wasn't going to say it, she would.

“Yes, by all means. Congratulations,” Will said.

“We'll be in touch.” Shirley started out the door. “Bye, Will, Olivia.”

“Thanks again,” Larry said, turning to follow her out.

Will closed the door firmly behind them. “Shirley
was my date that afternoon and then Larry swooped in on her and—”

“Will,” Olivia said. “What's your problem? Anyone with eyes can see how much in love they are.”

“I know, I know. But I'd hoped Shirley would fall in love with
me!
”

“And why would she do that?” Olivia asked bluntly.

“Why? Well, because…”

“What do you have in common, other than the fact that you own an art gallery and she's an artist?”

“Isn't that enough?”

“Will, not
every
woman is going to fall at your feet in adoration.”

“Jeez, you sound like Miranda! I happen to like Shirley Bliss.”

“And you tried to charm her the way you did with practically every woman you've met, whether you were married or not.” That last remark was meant to remind him that he hadn't been a good husband. He'd cheated on his wife repeatedly, and Olivia didn't care what his excuses were.

“You could've gone all day without saying that,” Will snapped. “Okay, so I wasn't the world's best husband. I admit it. But my ego just took a major hit, and if I want to whine a bit I should be able to.”

“Okay, fine. Be a little boy for a couple of minutes and then get over it.”

He stood and walked over to the cabinet. “How about a glass of wine? I could use a drink.”

“Sure. Shall we invite Miranda to join us?” The gallery was closed by now and she was probably waiting.

Will shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Don't sound so enthusiastic.”

“We don't get along all that well,” he muttered as he
took down a bottle of red wine and three glasses. “She's a know-it-all, not to mention contradictory.”

“Then why do you keep her on?” Olivia asked, finding his attitude amusing. Her brother's relationship with his assistant fascinated her. They bickered and argued and she couldn't remember a time that Will had anything good to say about Miranda. And yet he continued to employ her.

“I tried to fire her.”

“Tried?” Olivia raised one eyebrow.

“Yeah. I was completely overwhelmed without her. Two or three days later, I asked her to reconsider and return to work. I could've hired someone else, but that would mean training that person, which is a lot of time and trouble.”

“Miranda came back, though.”

He grinned. “She seemed almost glad of it, too. The truth is, I don't really like her. Miranda's far too bossy. God save me from bossy women.”

“Really?”

“Well, not all bossy women,” he returned, and broke into a lazy smile. “Not you, my darling sister.”

Olivia shook her head and started toward the door. “Before I ask Miranda to join us, are we in agreement that Mom and Ben can't go back to the house?”

“Yes.”

“We'll talk to them together about moving into an assisted-living complex as soon as possible,” she said, summing up their discussion.

Will exhaled loudly. “Together? Can't you tell them and I'll back you up?” He grinned. “I was hoping we could do this good-cop/bad-cop style and I'd be the good cop.”

“No, we'll present a united front and go from there. Okay?”

“Okay, Madame Judge.”

Olivia ignored that and opened the door. “Miranda, would you like to have a glass of wine with us? We're celebrating Shirley and Larry's engagement.”

Will, who was pouring the wine, nearly toppled a glass. He caught it just in time to prevent it from tumbling onto the beige carpet.

Miranda came into the room. “You're happy about Shirley's news?” she pressed, looking at Will.

Olivia could see that the other woman wasn't easily fooled.

“I can boast that I was the one who introduced them,” Will muttered as he passed around the glasses.

“It wasn't going to work out for you, you know.”

“Why is it,” Will asked sharply, “that everyone enjoys telling me that? You think I haven't figured it out by now? But if Larry hadn't come into the picture, I believe she would've ended up with me.”

Miranda exchanged a glance with Olivia that said Will was delusional. Olivia recognized, even if her brother didn't, that he'd never had a chance with Shirley, whether he chose to accept that or not.

“You don't believe me?”

“Will, it isn't that. Let's enjoy our wine and drop the whole Shirley issue, shall we?” Olivia suggested.

It looked for a moment as if he wasn't willing to let it go. “Fine. Whatever.”

Miranda raised the wineglass to her lips but not before Olivia noticed that she was humming a song from the 1960s. If memory served her right, the first line was “Goin' to the chapel and we're gonna get married.” She burst out laughing.

“What?” Will demanded.

“Nothing,” Olivia said, making an effort to keep her composure. She liked Miranda. In fact, Olivia could see that Will's assistant was exactly the woman to rein in her brother's ego and keep him in line.