Marriage Matters - By Cynthia Ellingsen Page 0,150

love her.”

Chloe seemed to be listening closely, her gray eyes intent.

“They were best friends. But . . .” June looked up at the mantel. It was lined with photographs of their family over the years. Her gaze settled on the one of Kristine and Kevin, on a ski trip. Chloe stood next to them, just a little girl. “With him gone all the time now, your mother hasn’t had any idea how to handle it. She’s lost her anchor. And your mother is the type of person who needs to have an anchor.”

June looked out at the window. The snow was coming down hard. She said a silent prayer that Kristine would hurry up and come back home.

“We should call my dad.” Chloe shook her head. “Get them on the phone. Just get them to talk to each other.”

“We have to let your parents handle it on their own,” June said. “They can do it. I know they can.”

“What are you talking about?” Chloe practically exploded. “You never let anyone handle anything on their own!”

June looked down at her engagement ring. “A wise man told me that it’s time to trust that my family has the capability to figure out their own problems. I’ve really been trying to do that.”

“You decide that now? After something like that?” Chloe gestured at the door.

Inside, June’s heart was pounding. Yes, she was terrified for Kristine. Out there, alone, on a night as cold as this? It was simply foolish. What was the girl thinking? But June was not going to jump in a cab and troll the city streets until she found her, then drag her back home. She had made a promise to Charley. One that she intended to keep.

“I trust your mother,” June said. “And you, Chloe. I trust that you will make the right decisions in your life. I can’t do it for you.”

Getting up, Chloe paced the room. She walked over to the mantel and rested her hand against the garland. After a long moment, she stared at June. “I need to ask you something.”

June swallowed hard. Chloe looked angry. Did she know that June had influenced her engagement? She certainly hoped not. If that were the case, June doubted her granddaughter would ever trust her again.

“My dear,” she said, smoothing a couch cushion with a nervous hand, “you can ask me anything.”

“Why weren’t you nice to my father?” Chloe’s eyes blazed. “When he and my mom first got married?”

June started. Goodness. Talk about water under the bridge. “I’m not quite sure what you’ve heard . . .”

“When my father came to meet you for the first time, you wouldn’t even let him stay at your house.”

“Well, of course not,” June said. “I booked him a room at a lovely hotel. I couldn’t have him sneaking down the hallway, trying to get into your mother’s—”

Chloe held up her hand. “You didn’t approve of him. For years.”

“So what?” June would make no apologies for that. “Chloe, he wasn’t good enough for your mother.” She chuckled, reaching for the afghan draped over the back of the couch and settling it over her shoulders. “But I’ve learned something over the years—no one would have ever been good enough for my little girl.”

“You didn’t have to act that way,” Chloe said. “You did not have to treat him that way.”

June sighed. In Chloe’s eyes, she could see so much of Kevin. The hurt and confusion that settled there, in those early years. “I made a mistake. But Chloe, when you are a mother, you’ll understand . . .”

“I’m getting a degree that is heavily influenced by psychology.” Her voice was cold. “I think I understand how family dynamics work. But Grandma, I do have to say this—maybe the way you felt about my father didn’t give my mother the permission to love him the way he deserved to be loved.”

June’s mouth dropped open. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“I know how it feels.” Chloe’s forehead was scrunched up. Her eyes appeared to be fixed on the angel on the tree. “There was a time when I thought that, if the stars aligned and something crazy happened, Ben and I would end up together. But you made it very clear you would die if that happened.”

June scoffed. “I never said I’d die. I just said that . . .” Her voice trailed off. A prickle of fear clawed at her spine. “What, exactly, are you saying?”

“I don’t know.” Chloe shook her head. “I think I’m