Chapter Six
Marsha stood there, hardly able to believe she was standing face-to-face with the woman who’d destroyed her life.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said softly, backing away from the grave. “I didn’t think you’d be here. I’ll leave.”
Marsha watched as the woman backed away, noting how much younger she was than her and how pretty she was, too. She was shorter than Marsha and curvy, and her long dark hair hung down her back. She had pretty brown eyes and wore little make-up. She couldn’t be any more the opposite of Marsha if she’d tried.
“Were you at his funeral?” Marsha blurted out. “I don’t remember seeing you there.” She had no idea why she was talking to this woman, but she wanted answers.
The woman stopped and stared at her. “No. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
A laugh escaped Marsha’s lips. “I wouldn’t have known who you were if you had come. You see, I didn’t know anything about you. But apparently, you knew about me.”
The woman looked uncomfortable. She slipped her hands into her jacket pockets. She looked very professional, wearing black slacks, a yellow blouse, and a striped blazer. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Do you still work in the Malibu insurance office?” Marsha asked. The woman looked as if she’d just come from work.
“Yes. I’m an insurance agent there. I’m not an owner, though, like the others, but I earn a good living.” She stood up a little straighter, obviously proud to have accomplished becoming an agent.
“I see.” Marsha’s eyes went to Craig’s grave. The headstone wouldn’t be ready for weeks, so only a small name plaque stood up from the ground to mark his grave. The flowers from the funeral still lay on the ground, most of them dead. She looked back up at the woman.
“If you knew about me, why did you continue to be with Craig?” Marsha asked her.
The woman took a step closer. “I never meant for any of this to happen,” she said apologetically. “I didn’t pursue him. Craig was so kind and giving. He helped me prepare for my license test and we grew close. When I became pregnant, he insisted on taking care of me. I never asked him for anything.”
Marsha’s heart was breaking into tiny shards with every word the woman said. Why would Craig pursue this woman when she was at home every night waiting for him? They’d never even fought. And she’d always been there for him.
“Well, you ended up pretty well off, if you ask me. A house in Malibu? Seems rather extravagant, don’t you think?” Marsha’s tone was cruel, but she couldn’t stop herself. She hated that this woman had shared a relationship with her husband.
“The house was all Craig’s idea. He wanted me and Max to have a nice life. I never expected anything from him,” she said. When Marsha only stared at her, the woman continued. “I got the letter from your lawyer. I’m searching for a place I can afford, and I hope to be out of there soon. But it’s hard. I need to be near Max’s school and my work, and Malibu is very expensive.”
Max. The boy’s name was Max. Anger seethed inside of Marsha. It was easier hating this woman and her son if she knew nothing about them.
“That’s not my problem,” Marsha snapped. “Craig made no arrangements for you and your son in his will. What little there is belongs to me.”
The woman stared at her, but she didn’t look angry. She looked defeated. Marsha would have felt compassion for her if she hadn’t been her husband’s mistress.
“That necklace you’re wearing. The heart with the diamonds,” Marsha said. “Craig gave me the exact same necklace five years ago for our anniversary. When he placed it around my neck, he said he was giving me his heart. Did he tell you the very same thing?”
The woman reached up and touched the necklace hanging there. Tears filled her eyes.
“That’s what I thought,” Marsha said sharply. “You see, we were both lied to.” She turned away and heard the sound of the woman hurrying down the hill.
Standing there at Craig’s grave, Marsha should have felt better after telling that woman off. Instead, she felt empty.
“See what you’ve done?” she said to Craig. “You’ve hurt so many people, and you’ve turned me into a shrew. I hope you’re happy.” Marsha spun around and made her way back to her car.
***
Marsha went home and crawled into bed. Her day had been so awful that she just wanted it to end. She cried not only for her loss but for how angry and bitter she felt. Marsha had never been a mean person, but Craig’s betrayal had brought out the spitefulness in her. And she had no idea how to make those horrible feelings go away.
By morning, Marsha was exhausted. She’d slept fitfully, rethinking everything she’d said to the woman and seeing her reactions over and over again. Why had she engaged in a conversation with the woman to begin with? What had she hoped to accomplish? And why had she tried so hard to hurt the woman just because she’d been hurt? Marsha felt stupid and mean and spiteful—and she hated those feelings.
Marsha knew she should shower and go into the gallery to work, but she was so drained she just couldn’t. She’d been so proud of herself for working all week and keeping her feelings stuffed below the surface. She’d thought she could work her way out of all the pain Craig had caused her. But after seeing that woman again, she knew she had to find a way to let go of her anger and bitterness. And she wasn’t going to do that by working at the gallery—yet another place that reminded her of Craig’s betrayal.
Marsha needed to go away.
As she sipped her coffee, she watched the sun burn off the morning fog to reveal the green-blue water. The idea of leaving for a while grew on her. Here, she was surrounded by memories. It was difficult to sort out her feelings when everything reminded her of Craig. Cleaning out his clothes and personal items hadn’t taken his essence from the house. The paintings they’d chosen, the colors on the walls, and even each piece of furniture had Craig’s mark on them. She needed to go somewhere that wasn’t connected to Craig in any way.
Having made up her mind, she texted Kristi that she wasn’t coming to work that day and then turned off her phone. She didn’t want to explain herself to her friend. She just wanted to leave.
Later that day, Marsha threw some clothes in a suitcase and tossed it in the back of her car. She had no idea where she was going, but she needed to get away and clear her head.
Feeling determined, Marsha went to the bedroom to grab her purse. Turning to leave, the diamonds in the broken necklace on her nightstand winked at her. She glared at it, then snatched it up and slipped it into her pocket. She locked the house, got into her car, headed to Highway One north, and left her problems behind her.
Or so she thought.
As Marsha drove along the scenic highway, she didn’t take in the beautiful views. Instead, her mind mulled over everything that had happened since Craig’s death.
She knew now that he’d lied to her about going to the Monterey office since he didn’t own it anymore. Instead, Craig had gone to spend a few days at the Malibu house with his son—who she now knew was named Max—and that woman.
How many times throughout the years had he lied to her? Dozens? Hundreds? Over a nine-year period, it must have been a huge number.
“You could have just left me for her,” Marsha said aloud. “That wouldn’t have hurt as much as finding out about all this now.”
But Marsha knew it would have hurt greatly. They tried for ten years to have a child until Craig finally told her they had to stop obsessing over it. If it happened, then he’d be thrilled, but if not, he was fine, too.
“I love you, and only you,” he’d told her. “Together, we have enough to fill our lives.”
Right, Marsha thought. Because by then, he had already gotten another woman pregnant and he no longer needed his wife to have a baby. He had the best of both worlds. A wife at home who adored him and a lover who’d had his child.
The pain in her heart was almost too much to bear.
On top of everything, Craig left her in a pinch for money to support herself. All these years, she thought they were doing well financially. But his having to sell two of the businesses proved they weren’t. Why couldn’t he have told her they were spending too much money? They’d always been a team, so why had he blocked her out?
Selling the Malibu house was a must. She couldn’t afford the payments or the taxes. It had to go. And the woman in the house would have to go with it.
Marsha stewed over her problems half-way up the coast. She had thought she’d try to get to Monterey and stay in the beautiful hotel and spa on the harbor that she and Craig had stayed at many times before. But the idea of it made her stomach twist into knots. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to stay anywhere she’d spent time with her husband.
Halfway to Monterey, as she neared Pismo Beach, Marsha suddenly grew tired. All her anger had zapped her of any energy she’d had. A small billboard on the side of the road showed a beautiful, large Victorian house sitting on a hill overlooking the ocean. The Clifftop Inn Bed & Breakfast it stated in large letters. It looked charming and inviting, so when the road appeared for the inn, Marsha turned left and drove down the long, tree-lined driveway, hoping they had a vacancy for the night.
The inn was even more beautiful than the picture on the billboard. Marsha pulled her car around to the parking lot and turned it off. The large Victorian house stood three stories high with a turret on each side in the front. It was painted a soft yellow with white trim. Window boxes were filled with colorful flowers, and rose gardens sat under the windows as well. Marsha could tell it had originally been a home, but at some point, someone had added a long stretch of house in the back and extended it to add another Victorian-style building. Another addition contained a cozy-looking restaurant, which was open, and it looked like there were rooms above that. As the sun set over the ocean, warm lights glowed from the inn’s windows, giving it a welcoming look.
Marsha pulled her suitcase and a smaller bag out of the trunk and rolled it down the cobblestone walkway to the entrance. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, and there were only a few people in the attached restaurant, so she hoped that was a good sign they’d still have a vacancy.
Walking through the glass and wrought-iron door into the large, tiled entryway, Marsha gazed around her. There was a staircase on one side climbing up to the second floor, a dining room on the left, and an elegant living room on the right. The entryway also had a fireplace, and a beautiful glass chandelier lit the area. It was gorgeous.
“Can I help you?” a young woman asked, standing behind a small desk straight ahead of Marsha. She smiled at the woman. She was tall and slender with dark hair and blue eyes and looked to be in her early twenties.
“Yes,” Marsha said, walking up to the desk and pulling her suitcase behind her. On the wall behind the desk were several photos of the inn throughout the years. One large black and white photo showed it as only a house, probably back when it had been built. “I was hoping to rent a room for the night.”
The woman smiled. “You’re in luck. We have several available. Would you like a room on the first or second floor? The view on the second floor is the best.”
Marsha immediately liked the girl whose name tag read Melinda. “Definitely the second floor,” she said. “Do all the rooms have fireplaces?”
“Absolutely,” Melinda said. “This part of the inn was built in the early 1900s by my great-grandfather. It was his house until his son turned it into an inn. Back then, all the rooms needed a fireplace for warmth. But they’ve been converted to gas fireplaces now.”
“That’s lovely,” Marsha said. “Does your family still own the inn?”
She nodded. “My parents do. My mom inherited it from her parents.”
Marsha loved that. A family business that was passed down through the years. It was so rare these days.
“Here’s your key card,” Melinda said. “You’re in room 202. We have an elevator down the hallway. I can help you bring your luggage up.” The girl walked around the small counter and took ahold of Marsha’s bag.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” Marsha said.
“We always escort the guests to their rooms,” Melinda said, taking the lead down the hallway.
They came to a small elevator that looked like it was built in the early 1900s.
“Don’t worry,” Melinda said, laughter in her voice. “It only looks old. We actually added the elevator in 2000. But my parents wanted it to fit in with the décor.”
Marsha followed her inside and it only took a few seconds to reach the second floor. She then followed Melinda down the hallway and to the right to the front-facing bedroom.
“Here we are.” Melinda took Marsha’s key and opened the door, then allowed Marsha to go inside first.
Marsha looked around the room. It was a cozy space with a queen bed, a dresser and desk, and a small bathroom attached. Two sets of double windows flanked the brick fireplace. “It’s adorable,” Marsha said, turning back to Melinda. “I love it.”
“Great. I hope you enjoy your stay. We serve breakfast from seven to ten each morning, and if you stay longer, you can buy lunch and dinner over at the restaurant. Of course, there are many nice restaurants in town as well.”
“Thank you.” Marsha reached into her purse to give Melinda a tip, but the woman waved her hand at her.
“No tip necessary. Service is all part of the price.”
Well, thank you very much,” Marsha said.
“Oh, and if you find you want to stay longer, let me know,” Melinda said as she stood in the doorway. “We have openings all weekend and next week. It’s a little slow this time of year. And if you want to walk on the beach tomorrow, there’s a staircase that goes down the cliff to it. It’s quite a workout but worth it.”
“Thank you, Melinda.”
The girl smiled and closed the door.
Marsha turned back and looked at the room. It was an absolute gem. She felt better right now than she had since Craig died.
She set her bag on a chair beside the bed and pulled out her toiletries. After placing those in the bathroom, she changed into a silky pair of pajamas and dropped onto the bed. She could read a book on her iPad, watch television, or just do nothing. How lovely was that?
Turning on her phone, she saw dozens of messages from Kristi. Marsha sighed. Kristi was worried because she hadn’t heard from her. Marsha thought about ignoring the messages but felt bad about making Kristi worry. She hit her friend’s number in her favorites and waited.
Kristi answered the phone on the second ring. “Marsha! I was so worried about you. I even stopped by your house after work, but you weren’t there.”
“I’m fine,” Marsha said. “Didn’t you see my text saying I was going to stay home today?”
“I did. But I was still worried. And you weren’t home,” Kristi said.
“Thank you for worrying, dear, but I’m fine. I decided to get away for a few days,” Marsha told her. And as she looked around her room, she was so happy she had. “Since Mari and Kevin will be working the weekend, I didn’t think I needed to tell you I was gone.”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. Finally, Kristi spoke. “I wish you had told me. I was so worried. So much has happened to you lately that it scares me when I don’t know if you’re safe.”
Marsha was stunned by her words but even more surprised by hearing her best friend crying. “I’m so sorry, Kristi. I really am. But you don’t have to worry about me. I won’t do anything rash, I promise you. Yes, it’s been tough these past couple of weeks. That’s why I decided to get away. I couldn’t think straight in my house. It has too many memories.”
“I get it,” Kristi said, no longer crying. “It’s just,” she hesitated. “Your twentieth anniversary is on Monday, and I was afraid it might have put you over the edge.”
“Ah.” Marsha understood now. They were supposed to have been going on a cruise the next week to celebrate their anniversary. With everything happening, Marsha had asked Jeffrey to cancel the cruise and try to get a refund. But quite honestly, Marsha had forgotten all about their anniversary being on Monday. Her mind had been miles away from that.
“I’m fine,” Marsha reassured her friend. “I’m somewhere safe—beautiful, actually—and I intend on coming home soon. I just needed time to myself.”
“Okay. I understand,” Kristi said, sounding like her old self again. “I won’t bother you this weekend. But please let me know if you need anything at all.”
“You are always the first person I call, believe me,” Marsha said.
They said goodbye, and Marsha collapsed on the bed. She needed this. She needed time to think without any interruption or thoughts about her predicament. And as her eyes studied the room once again, she was so happy she’d come upon the perfect place to relax.
At least for a little while.