It's Better This Way
Summer 2021
Dear Friends,
I really loved writing this book. I know an author is expected to say that about every book she writes. If you were to ask me why this one was special, I’m not entirely sure I could explain it, other than to say it comes directly from the lives of several of my friends. We are at an age when our children are grown and starting lives of their own. It’s time to coast, travel, and enjoy ourselves with our partners. Except in far too many cases, my friends have found themselves either divorced or widowed. Just when they were set to retire and do the things they had planned for years, all their dreams and hopes went up in smoke. At an age they never expected, they had to start again. I’ve watched what happened to them and their children, especially if they remarried. The family unit, as it once was, is forever gone. From these experiences was born the idea for It’s Better This Way.
This book is dedicated to Rick Enloe and Gino Grunberg. If you subscribe to the Welcome Home magazine, you will recognize Rick’s name, as he writes a regular column. Rick and Gino lead the church where Wayne and I attend. It’s better this way is something Rick says so often his family has threatened to have it etched on his gravestone. It’s a way of saying that life turns out the way it’s supposed to, one way or the other.
Thank you for your faith in me as an author to tell a good story and for investing your hard-earned dollars in this book. I hope you’ll come away blessed and encouraged, that although life sometimes slings mud at us, in the end, when we can see past the hurts: It really is better this way.
Your comments are always appreciated. You, my readers, have been the guiding force of my career. I appreciate everything you have to say. So thank you in advance. You can reach me online on my website, on Facebook, and on every other social media. Or you can write to me at P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.
Blessings,
It’s Better This Way is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Debbie Macomber
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
Ballantine and the House colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Macomber, Debbie, author.
Title: It’s better this way: a novel / Debbie Macomber.
Other titles: It is better this way
Description: New York: Ballantine Books, [2021]
Identifiers: LCCN 2020048070 (print) | LCCN 2020048071 (ebook) | ISBN 9781984818782 (hardcover; acid-free paper) | ISBN 9781984818799 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Domestic fiction. | GSAFD: Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3563.A2364 I87 2021 (print) | LCC PS3563.A2364 (ebook) | DDC 813/.54—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020048070
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020048071
Ebook ISBN 9781984818799
randomhousebooks.com
Book design by Dana Leigh Blanchette, adapted for ebook
Cover design: Susan Zucker
Cover image: Westend61/Getty Images
ep_prh_5.7.0_c0_r0
Contents
Cover
Author's Note
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Dedication
Ballantine Books from Debbie Macomber
About the Author
Prologue
Julia Jones sat at her desk, the divorce papers in front of her, shouting at her to pick up the pen, sign her name, and put an end to this insanity once and for all. Her heart ached, and she held her breath to the point that her lungs felt as if they would explode. Reaching for the pen, her hand trembled with the weight of what she was about to do. Closing her eyes, she set the pen back on the desktop.
She’d fought so hard to save her marriage. She loved Eddie. There’d never been anyone but her husband. When he tearfully admitted he’d fallen out of love with her, she intuitively knew he’d become involved with someone else, although he adamantly denied it. She could understand if another woman had fallen in love with her husband; Julia loved him, too. Even at fifty-three, Eddie was handsome, athletic, and charismatic.
Unwilling to give up on her thirty-one-year marriage, she pleaded with him to try counseling. To his credit, Eddie agreed, although reluctantly. However, after only five sessions, he said it would do no good. He admitted to the affair with a woman named Laura, someone he’d met on the golf course. He no longer wanted to make his marriage work. He wanted out to start a new life with this other woman.
Still, Julia was unwilling to give up. She was determined. Dedicated to her husband and her marriage. Even after Eddie quit counseling, she continued, seeking ways to build a bridge that would bring her husband back.
Back to their family.
Back to the good life they had created together.
Back to her.
They were a team. Or had been. Julia had shared nearly every important life experience with Eddie. Marriage. Children. The death of her father. Triumphs. Discouragements. He’d been her soul mate.
Julia met Eddie in college. They were young and in love, full of ambition, all set to make their mark in the world. They married, encouraged, and supported each other as they pursued their individual careers. Eddie became a professional golfer, and when his career faded, he became a country club pro and later opened his own shop.
Julia had graduated with a degree in interior design. Her own business had become a success, and she was a sought-after designer, working with contractors from across the state. After marrying and investing their talent and time in building their careers, they’d waited ten years to start their family. Julia was thirty-two before she had Hillary, and Marie a year later. Eddie loved his daughters. They were the pride of his life.
Even now, Julia didn’t know how this affair had happened. She’d been completely blindsided. She’d assumed they were happy. They’d been together all these years and were at the point when they were about to enjoy the fruits of their labors. Their nest was empty. Both girls were in college, Hillary was about to graduate, and Marie was a year behind her. The two shared an apartment near the University of W
ashington, where they attended classes. Hillary was studying to be a physical therapist and played tennis for the college team, just as Julia had while in school. Marie planned to be a respiratory therapist.
Even knowing her husband was involved in an affair, Julia had stubbornly held on to her marriage. Eddie was her best friend. He’d wept with her when her father passed, had been a good father and partner, cheering her successes and comforting her when she faced disappointments. They had been a team, each celebrating the other. They had a good life together, and she wasn’t willing to flush it all away.
Julia missed her father terribly. Dad would have been stunned and disappointed in Eddie. Countless times over the years, when life had thrown her an unexpected curve, he’d tell her: It’s better this way. He’d said it so often that before he died, her mother threatened to have it chiseled on his tombstone.
She remembered the first time he said it was when she was six. She’d been invited to her best friend’s birthday party, but had gotten the flu the night before, and couldn’t go. Disappointed, she’d wept in her daddy’s arms, and he’d comforted her by telling her it was better this way. She hadn’t believed him until the following Sunday, when she was feeling better and Heather brought her a piece of her special birthday cake. Later, her dad drove her and Heather to the circus, and they’d had a wonderful time. It had been better than sharing her best friend with everyone in her first-grade class.
Again and again over the years, when Julia had suffered disappointments—a prom date who disappeared in the middle of the dance, a missed business flight to New York—she would be naturally frustrated and upset, until she remembered her father’s words of wisdom.
Right then, with her marriage at stake, it didn’t feel like anything would ever be better again.
Hoping Eddie would come to his senses, Julia begged him to wait six months, praying with all her might that he would change his mind about this divorce. They would find their way through this. Start again. Forgive each other.
All she wanted was those six months, convinced he would come to his senses.
Eddie hesitantly agreed, although he made sure she was fully aware that this was his time limit. After six months, she would willingly sign the divorce papers. With a wounded heart, she promised to abide by his stipulation.
At Eddie’s insistence, they spoke with an attorney. Everything would be ready for when the time came. The settlement agreement had been amicably set in place. He kept his business and she kept hers. She promised, at the end of those six months, that they would put the house on the market. Julia would sell her dream home, the very one she had lovingly decorated. They would evenly split the profits. Of the furnishings, there were only a few pieces Eddie wanted.
Four months into the six-month waiting period, things had gotten ugly. It seemed Eddie’s lover had grown impatient and wanted matters resolved so they could move on together. She was eager for them to put down roots.
When Julia held firm to their six-month agreement, Laura got involved, forwarding Julia photo upon photo of her and Eddie together, dining out. Selfies on the golf course. Even one of them in bed together. As best she could, Julia ignored the pictures, refusing to take the bait.
When she refused to respond, Laura tried another tactic and sent her ugly text messages, reminding Julia that Eddie no longer loved her and wanted out of the marriage.
You are only delaying the inevitable.
You are being so selfish and mean-spirited.
Why are you beating a dead horse?
You’re a jealous witch.
For a couple weeks, Julia resisted, until she couldn’t take it any longer. Before she could stop herself, she responded with ugly messages of her own, letting Laura know exactly what she thought of her in words that made her blush now. She hated herself for lowering to Laura’s level. She regretted every word of those texts, furious with herself. She wasn’t that woman.
At that point, their daughter had gotten involved. Julia had never meant for her daughter to see those texts. When she did, Hillary had gone ballistic. Both their daughters were already furious with their father, and this behavior from Laura didn’t help.
Without Julia knowing what she had planned, Hillary confronted Eddie and Laura at Lake Sammamish on a family outing and called her every ugly name in the book. Using the same language Julia had used earlier. Not willing to tolerate Hillary and Marie’s outrage, Laura’s two sons verbally confronted the girls, and a shouting match ensued. Like a California wildfire, the situation had exploded, as both families attacked each other. Eddie got involved, demanding that his daughters respect his future wife. In the heat of the moment, he said words he would live to regret. If Hillary and Marie couldn’t accept Laura, then they could no longer be part of his life.
Unsure what to do, Julia once again consulted the counselor, seeking his advice. She could identify with her daughters’ outrage. She’d been angry, too, going through well-documented stages of grief, only in this instance the loss was the demise of her marriage.
Sitting in the counselor’s office, wringing a damp tissue in her hands, Julia explained what had happened.
“I’m so sorry, Julia.” His expression was full of sympathy. “I know how badly you wanted to make your marriage work.”
“I never meant for matters to get so nasty.”
“I know.”
“Should I sign the divorce papers?” she asked, praying he would give her the direction she needed.
He was silent for several moments and seemed to carefully consider his response. “I can’t tell you what to do. I will say this, though: Love that isn’t faithful has little value. It really isn’t love at all.”
With a heavy heart, Julia left the appointment, knowing what needed to be done.
She had put up the good fight. The time had come for her to lay down her sword and accept defeat. Eddie was never coming back. This was the end. It was time to let go.
Let go of her husband.
Let go of her marriage.
Let go of her dreams for their future together.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stared at the document in front of her, the words blurred through the moisture that clouded her eyes.
With her heart in her throat, she reached for the pen a second time and signed her name.
As she did, she told herself: It’s better this way.
Chapter 1
Nearly six years later
Julia woke, glanced at the clock on her nightstand, and wondered how long it would take for her to sleep past six. Old habits die hard, even though she no longer had any need to set her alarm. For more years than she could remember, she had risen at six every morning. Her business, West Coast Interiors, had been sold, and she was easing into retirement, working part-time as a consultant.
The decision to sell had been a weighty one and followed on the heels of her mother’s passing. As Julia neared sixty, she felt she had plenty of good years left. Then an offer had come through that was far and above her expectations. Julia didn’t feel like she could turn it down. She wasn’t ready to give up her work entirely, which was why she’d made continuing as a consultant part of the agreement. The buyers had asked her to stay on, as well. She could work as much or as little as she wanted. After finishing this latest project, she’d decided to take a few days off and test what semiretirement felt like.
This certainly wasn’t how she’d once anticipated retirement. There’d been a time when she’d hoped to travel the world with her husband. Julia longed to explore Europe and Asia. As of now, traveling alone held little appeal. Perhaps one day.
As she knew it would, her dream home had sold less than a week after it had been listed. So many changes had come into her life. After her divorce was final, she’d rented an apartment before making a decision on her new home. She knew she wanted to remain living in Seattle,
and possibly in the downtown area itself.
The city was her home and there had been enough upheaval in her life without facilitating another major life change. Her girls were close, as was her sister and her family. She waited a year to start looking, and then the search had taken on a life of its own.
For three long years, Julia was on an endless quest to find a place she felt she could call home. The Heritage was an older brick condo building, built in the 1960s, that was filled with warmth and character. So many of the newer high-rise buildings were steel structures, with little to no personality or charm. Set in the heart of the city, it was close enough for her to walk down to Pike Place Market for fresh produce and seafood. The 5th Avenue theater was nearby, as was plenty of shopping. As a bonus, there was a coffee shop next door, as well as several restaurants on the block.
The instant she stepped into The Heritage and viewed the large fountain in the center lobby, Julia sensed this was the place for her. The building, with only twelve floors, rarely had a vacancy. Julia was patient, and in time a unit became available. She’d lived here a little over two years now and loved the community of friends she’d made. Because it was an older building, The Heritage didn’t have many of the amenities of the newer condos that attracted the techies from Amazon and Microsoft. This move was a new beginning for her. A fresh start, and she had settled in comfortably.
Tying the sash on her silk robe, she wandered into the kitchen and brewed a cup of coffee. Lazy mornings generally happened only on Sundays, when she attended the late service at church. She needed to create a new schedule for herself—or, on second thought, no schedule at all.