Free 1105 Yakima Street by Debbie Macomber

them.
    Rachel parked several spots down from his car, hesitated for a moment, half tempted to flee, and then locked up. When she entered the restaurant she saw Bruce immediately. He’d chosen a booth facing the door. He smiled as he stood to greet her. Funny how a simple smile could affect her so strongly. She smiled back, accepted his kiss on the cheek and slid into the booth across from him.
    “Hi,” he said eagerly, his eyes filled with longing. He stretched his arms across the table and clasped her hands as if he needed to touch her. “You look fantastic.”
    “Thanks.” She’d taken extra care with her hair and makeup, although she tried not to have high expectations about this meeting.
    “You’re feeling better?” he asked. “No problems with the pregnancy?”
    “None,” she assured him.
    “Everything okay at work?”
    She nodded. The past five days, following the fiasco at the salon, had been relatively calm. Jane hadn’t been happy with her afterward, and Rachel couldn’t blame her, but fortunately there’d been no further reference to it.
    One night recently when she hadn’t been able to sleep, Rachel had gotten up for a glass of milk and found Nate in the kitchen. They’d talked for almost an hour. He’d been sympathetic, although never intrusive. During this conversation with Nate, she’d realized with greater clarity than ever why Bruce acted the way he did. He hated confrontation and would do anything to avoid it. He coped by ignoring conflicts and tension, by wishing them away. He didn’t want to be caught between his wife and his daughter. She couldn’t fault him for preferring to keep the peace, but his approach didn’t work.
    “You need to look after yourself and the baby,” Bruce was saying.
    Alicia, the waitress, appeared in her pink uniform with the starched white apron. She automatically poured Bruce a coffee.
    “Decaf for me,” Rachel told her.
    “Coming right up. How about a piece of pie to go with that?”
    “None for me,” Bruce said.
    Alicia scowled at him. “I wasn’t asking you. She’s the one who could use a little meat on her bones.”
    “No, thanks,” Rachel said, squelching a smile.
    Alicia set the coffeepot on the table and started to enumerate the day’s selection of pies. “We got apple, blueberry, coconut cream and peach. The apple’s my favorite but you choose.”
    “I…” Rachel looked at Bruce, who was grinning from ear to ear, apparently approving of Alicia’s tactics.
    “Apple, it is,” the waitress announced, picked up the coffeepot and hurried into the kitchen.
    “She’s almost as bossy as Goldie,” Bruce said, chuckling.
    Goldie had been at the Pancake Palace forever, while Alicia, who’d started there maybe twenty years ago, was a relative newcomer.
    Actually, a piece of apple pie did sound good. With all this stress—the pregnancy, the separation, the emotional upheaval—Rachel had lost weight she could ill afford to lose.
    Alicia reappeared with the decaf and a thick slice of apple pie. “Enjoy,” she said.
    “I will.” Rachel reached for her fork but didn’t try even a bite. She needed to hear what Bruce had to say, why he’d wanted to meet. Clutching the fork, she waited until Alicia was out of earshot. “You asked to see me.”
    “Yes. It’s time you came home,” Bruce said starkly. “You’re my wife and I love you. You living somewhere else—it’s just plain wrong.” His voice fell. “I worry about you and the baby.”
    She knew he meant every word, but nothing about their situation had improved. Judging by the incident at the mall, Jolene was as angry and caustic as ever. Rachel wasn’t wanted nor was she appreciated by her stepdaughter, and her husband wouldn’t deal with the girl’s hostility. Rachel refused to return to an environment that was unhealthy for her and her unborn child.
    “What’s changed?” she asked. With great precision, she set the fork aside and studied Bruce.
    He cupped his mug with