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deserves to be brought into a whole family,” Kelly said stubbornly.

      Grace wondered if it’d do any good to point out that she wasn’t the one who’d splintered the family unit. Dan had walked out on her, not the other way around.

      Then, as if she’d been waiting to deliver the final punch, Kelly reached for her purse and removed a shiny piece of rolled paper.

      “What’s that?” Grace asked.

      “A picture of your grandchild.”

      Grace’s heart started to pound faster. “You had your ultrasound?”

      Kelly nodded. “Here’s your grandbaby, Mother.”

      This technology hadn’t been available when Grace was pregnant with the girls. She studied the circular array of lines and squinted, barely able to make out the baby’s form.

      “Oh, my goodness,” Grace whispered, awed by the sight.

      “That’s Dad’s grandbaby, too,” Kelly said.

      Grace’s heart sank.

      “Tell me you’ll wait before you file for divorce.”

      “Kelly…”

      “Please?”

      Grace sighed. “All right, but just until after the baby’s born. Deal?”

      Kelly gave her a relieved smile. “Deal.”

      Thirteen

      Olivia Lockhart left the Boeing 767 and stepped off the jetway. She was just returning from San Diego and a one-week visit with her son, his wife and their new baby. Isabella Dolores Lockhart was born in the wee hours of May eighteenth. The following morning, unable to stay away a moment longer, Olivia had boarded a plane for California. In seven short days, she’d fallen completely in love with her first grandchild.

      Collecting her luggage, Olivia glanced around, wondering if Justine was late. Her daughter had volunteered to pick her up at Sea-Tac Airport and was normally punctual. Her suitcase in hand, unsure what to do, Olivia walked over to the bank of phones.

      “Looking for a familiar face?” a man asked from behind her.

      Olivia knew the sound of her ex-husband’s voice as well as she knew her own. “Stan! What are you doing here?”

      “What else? I came to collect you.”

      “But Justine—”

      “I asked her to let me do the honors.”

      Olivia couldn’t help feeling surprised. She rarely saw Stan and they didn’t speak all that often. At fifty-six, he was still vital and handsome, and she smiled as he kissed her cheek, then relieved her of her bag. She’d vowed to love this man all her life—and despite the divorce, still did. It was a love that continued to this day because of everything they’d once meant to each other. Because of what they’d had—and what they’d lost.

      “I thought this would give you an opportunity to tell me about the baby. How’s James?”

      After her visit, Olivia felt reassured. “I don’t think we need to worry about James.”

      “You like his wife?”

      “Very much,” she told him. “I have pictures of the baby. Oh, Stan, she’s adorable.”

      “Don’t tell me you’re turning into one of those silly grandmas with a purse full of pictures.”

      “In a heartbeat. I’ve waited a long time for this.” Most of the friends they’d once shared were grandparents several times over by now.

      Together they headed toward the short-term parking on Sea-Tac’s lower level. Olivia told him about the baby as they went, barely paying attention as Stan paid for parking and led the way down the escalator. They walked along the row of parked cars until he suddenly stopped in front of a red convertible.

      Olivia did a double take. Stan in a BMW? A convertible, no less. Leave it to her ex-husband to buy a convertible in a city that had three solid months of rain every year!

      “When did you get this?” she asked, not even trying to disguise her amusement.

      “Do you like it?”

      “I absolutely love it! You’ll put the top down, won’t you?”

      “If that’s what you want.”

      He was smiling as he slid into the front seat. He started the engine and made a real production of lowering the top. When he’d finished, they were both laughing. “This reminds me of that beat-up old convertible you had in college,” Olivia said between giggles. “Remember when the top got stuck halfway up?”

      They talked comfortably throughout the drive. As they waited at a light, Olivia showed her ex the first photographs of their granddaughter.

      “Born May 18th,” Stan reminded her. “That’s the day Mount Saint Helens blew, isn’t it?”

      As if either one of them was likely to forget. They’d driven to Portland for the weekend. Stan was attending some engineering conference and while he went to meetings, Olivia had taken the three children over to Lloyd Center. The shopping mall, with a skating rink in the center, had fascinated eight-year-old Jordan. Olivia had tried to shop, but with three children constantly underfoot, it’d been an impossible task and she’d finally given up. After renting skates for herself and the kids, she’d spent a delightful day. Then early Sunday morning, when they were to drive home, Mount Saint Helens had the first of several volcanic eruptions. Plumes of hot gasses, ash and rock had shot sixty thousand feet into the sky. The falling ash had made the drive back to Cedar Cove nerve-wracking. For several hours, they’d been trapped on the Interstate with three whiny, frightened children in the back seat. Olivia had been no less terrified.

      “You do remember May 18th, 1980, don’t you?” Stan asked.

      In response, Olivia shuddered elaborately. She’d never been happier to get home. The drive had been a nightmare, but time had a way of erasing the sharp edges of that memory. In later years, whenever the trip was mentioned, it was done with drama and lots of laughter.

      “She’s beautiful,” Stan said, staring at the color photos while they waited for the light to change.

      “James is happy, and Selina’s perfect for him. She’s just the kind of wife he needs.” As the youngest, James had been badly spoiled—even more so after the death of his brother.

      Stan had worried about their son. She knew that, but James was an adult now and made his own decisions. Often Olivia disagreed with what he chose, such as joining the military. Without a word to either one of them, he’d enlisted. Now he was married and a young father. This, too, had been accomplished without consulting either parent.

      “I’m glad to hear that.” Stan did sound relieved.

      Olivia had liked her daughter-in-law instantly. They’d talked on the phone several times, but those brief conversations hadn’t given her a clear picture of her son’s wife. Selina belonged to a large extended and well-to-do family who’d welcomed Olivia with the same enthusiasm that they had James and the new baby. There were dinners and celebrations every night of her visit. James was genuinely happy. He and Selina lived in a suite of rooms at his in-laws’ home and amazingly, the arrangement seemed to be a success. Olivia was impressed by the amount of Spanish he’d learned since he’d met Selina. She’d quickly realized that Selina’s family had been part of the attraction for her son. James had been only ten at the time of the divorce, and although both Olivia and Stan had tried hard to make the split as amicable as possible, their son had suffered. Every child did. Olivia saw the results of divorce every day in family court.

      “How’s Justine doing?” Stan abruptly changed the subject.

      “Why? What did she say when you talked?”

      “Not

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