Sweet Tomorrows (Rose Harbor #5) - Debbie Macomber Page 0,90

you far more,” I assured her, reaching for Jo Marie, needing her warmth and her comfort. She let me hug her and rested her head on my shoulder.

“That remains to be seen,” she whispered.

The woman knew exactly what to say to fill my head with concerns and questions. We hadn’t resolved the issue, nor had I made up my mind. All that had been accomplished in this heart-to-heart discussion was the knowledge I would lose no matter what I decided.

Nick’s parents arrived on Saturday afternoon. He met with them privately for the first part of the day. I was concerned and prayed long and hard that their discussion would go well.

Following the first counseling session, Nick had said very little of what had transpired. He grew sullen and quiet on the drive home. When we arrived back home, he hurried into the house. For a good five minutes I’d sat in the car debating if I should follow him or not. I didn’t. Once back at the inn I’d sent him a text, which he answered almost right away. He thanked me and said he needed time to sort through some things. No kidding.

I didn’t hear from him on Wednesday despite the three text messages I sent him. Then mid-afternoon he sent me one that said he was fine and I shouldn’t worry. Well, good luck with that. I worried.

Thursday he seemed more like himself. I stopped by and I helped him straighten up the house and clean it for his parents’ visit. He used every opportunity to be close and to touch me, telegraphing his desire to deepen our relationship. I wouldn’t let him kiss me and did my best to disguise how much his touch affected me. His fingers grazed my upper arm and I felt it all the way to the soles of my feet.

I had it bad, but I’d had similar feelings when dating Jayson and something close to that with James. I wasn’t doing this again and avoided him as much as I could, which he went out of his way to make difficult.

On Friday, just one day before his parents’ arrival, I did my best to encourage him through text messages and a brief phone chat. Although he didn’t specifically mention it, I knew the counselor had helped him prepare for this meeting.

Saturday I left Nick to spend time alone with his mom and dad. We agreed I would make a showing Sunday afternoon without setting a specific time. I wanted to be sure Nick and his parents had ample opportunity to talk before I arrived. I was anxiously awaiting Nick’s text following church on Sunday. It came earlier than I expected.

Where R U?

At the inn. U ready for me?

YES.

I smiled and headed out. Jo Marie was busy getting Mark settled. The drive from the hospital had exhausted him, and he’d spent most of Saturday in his room on the bottom floor. This afternoon she’d helped him onto the deck so he could sit in the warm sunshine. I knew after spending literally weeks in the hospital how good it must feel to breathe in fresh, clean air and look out over that amazing view of the Olympic mountain range. Sun, sea, and sky were as good as any medicine.

“I’m leaving now,” I told her.

Jo Marie knew the significance of this meeting for Nick. While she was concerned for me, she worried about Nick, too.

“I want a full report once you’re back.”

“You’ll get it,” I promised her.

Walking the few short blocks to Bethel Street, I was greeted by Elvis, who let out a welcoming bark when I came into view. His tail went into action, letting me know how pleased he was to see me. The feeling was mutual. I’d come to love this guard dog, although it was questionable as to how much of a guard he actually was.

Apparently hearing Elvis, Nick walked onto the porch. His relief was clear as his eyes met mine as I headed up the walkway. That one look, the bright way in which his eyes shone, told me the conversation with his parents had gone well. My relief was instantaneous. Nick reached for my hand, his fingers curling around mine, and led me inside the kitchen. His parents sat at the kitchen table.

Right away his father stood.

“Mom, Dad this is Emily…Em.”

Stepping forward, I extended my hand. “Emily Gaffney,” I said.

“Chuck,” Nick’s father said, “and my wife, Marie.”

It wasn’t hard to see the family resemblance. Chuck was over

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