Read Online Secrets on Cedar Key by Terri Dulong - Free Book Online Page B

clouds. I realized that the grief I had been feeling since the loss of Andrew had lightened. Did this mean that I no longer mourned his passing? Or even worse—did it mean I no longer loved him? Was the anger and betrayal that I felt able to supersede any love that we may have shared over twenty-six years of marriage? I had no answer for that.
    I took a sip of tea and then glanced at the papers in my lap, scribbled notes from the information that James Coburn had given me.
    I wondered if Bianca Caldwell had continued her teaching career after her daughter was born. Since she had not touched much of the money that Andrew had contributed, I assumed that she must have continued to work. I also wondered if any other family was involved in Fiona’s life. Perhaps an aunt or a grandmother. Although I realized that it was probably natural for her to want to speak with me, the thought of it left me uneasy. What, exactly, would she be hoping to hear about the father she had never known? With the anger and betrayal that I was dealing with, I wasn’t at all sure I was the person to give her a clear and unbiased picture of this man.
    I glanced at my watch and was surprised to see it was already noon. And here I sat, still in my shorts and tee shirt, no shower taken and no desire whatsoever to go into the yarn shop in two hours. It was then that I remembered the dinner date I had agreed to with Worth. This held no appeal for me either.
    I got up, went inside, and called my mother.
    â€œAre you very busy at the shop today?” I asked.
    â€œNot especially, no. Why?”
    I fibbed about not feeling so well, which really wasn’t very far from the truth. Except that my symptoms were more emotional than physical.
    â€œOh, don’t worry about coming in, Marin. Chloe and I are just fine here, and I can close around four.”
    I breathed a sigh of relief. I just wasn’t up to going there and pretending everything was fine, and I still wasn’t ready to discuss what I’d learned this morning.
    â€œThanks, Mom. Oh, and could you do me a favor? Could you tell Worth that I’m not feeling well? I was supposed to join him for dinner this evening . . . but . . . maybe you could ask him if he’s free on Friday evening . . . I’ll take a rain check.”
    â€œI’ll take care of it. Now, lie down and get some rest.”
    Â 
    I wasn’t sure if it was because I felt guilty about not going into the yarn shop or because I just needed to keep busy, but I spent the afternoon preparing dinner for my mother and me.
    Comfort food. That was what I needed, and I proceeded to put together a batch of homemade macaroni and cheese. Putting that aside to slip into the oven later, I then prepared a salad and placed it in the fridge.
    I began removing all the ingredients necessary from the cabinets to make a chocolate cake. But not just any chocolate cake. Decadent. Sinful. So delicious it would send my taste buds into orgasm.
    By the time I poured the rich, dark batter into the cake pans, the entire kitchen was filled with the wonderful scent of chocolate. I had even melted a pound of truffles from Berkley’s shop to include in the batter. I carefully put the pans into the preheated oven, closed the door, stood back, and let out a deep sigh.
    I hadn’t even tasted it yet, and already I was sure my endorphin levels had notched up a degree. No doubt about it—chocolate had a way of easing a woman’s sadness. Who knew—maybe it could even promote world peace.
    I was just about to make myself another cup of tea when the phone rang and I answered to hear my eldest son’s voice.
    Oh. My. God. It suddenly hit me that eventually both of my sons would have to be told and learn the truth about their father.
    I pushed aside my concern as my motherly voice took over. “Jason. How nice to hear from you. Everything okay in Atlanta?”
    â€œYeah, fine. Just calling to see how you’re