Summer on Blossom Street

by Debbie Macomber

  Tim had suggested meeting at the fountain in the center of the park. Sure enough, there he was, sitting on the circular stone edge. Children raced around the park, their glee and excitement infectious in the afternoon sun.

  He stood as they approached, and Anne Marie’s heart felt lodged in her throat.

  “Hello,” Tim greeted them, his gaze focused on Ellen.

  Not understanding, the girl looked up at Anne Marie.

  “Hello, Tim,” she managed to croak out.

  When she didn’t say anything further or make any effort to introduce him, Tim bent down and thrust out his hand. “You must be Ellen. My name is Tim.”

  Ellen edged closer to Anne Marie. “This is Baxter,” she said, motioning toward the Yorkie, who stared curiously at Tim.

  To Anne Marie’s frequent annoyance, Baxter barked up a mighty storm with just about everyone he encountered for the first time. Not with Tim, though. The small dog quietly and without reservation accepted him as a friend.

  “Mom said she’d buy me an ice cream,” Ellen announced.

  Tim’s smile was gentle. “What a great idea. I’ll get ice cream for all of us. Why don’t you two sit here and I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay.”

  He started walking toward the nearby ice-cream vendor’s cart, glancing back to send them another reassuring smile.

  Anne Marie lowered herself to the stone bench, half listening to the melodic splashing of water behind her. Her mouth had gone dry and it felt as if her tongue was glued to her teeth. Normal conversation seemed impossible. She didn’t know how she was going to get through this ordeal without Ellen sensing that something was very wrong.

  “Who’s Tim?” Ellen asked, sitting next to her. She brought Baxter onto her lap and waited for Anne Marie’s explanation. If only there was an easy explanation!

  “A friend,” Anne Marie said again, surprised she was able to answer at all.

  Ellen didn’t speak for a moment. “Is he your…boyfriend?”

  Because she hadn’t come up with anything better, Anne Marie nodded. “Sort of.”

  That appeared to satisfy Ellen. “I like him.”

  “You’d like anyone who bought you ice cream,” Anne Marie teased, hoping to make light of the girl’s immediate acceptance of Tim.

  Ellen giggled. “No, I wouldn’t.” She petted the Yorkie, who’d curled up in her lap. “Baxter likes him, too.”

  The little traitor, Anne Marie mused. “I saw that.”

  As promised, Tim was back within minutes, carrying three ice-cream bars. Ellen placed Baxter on the ground as he doled them out. “Thank you,” she said, polite as always.

  Unwrapping the bar, Ellen looked at Tim, her head slightly tilted. “Mom says you’re her boyfriend.”

  Tim’s eyes met hers.

  “Sort-of boyfriend,” Anne Marie corrected.

  “Would you like that?” Tim asked Ellen, then took the first bite of his ice cream.

  Ellen nodded. “You’re okay.”

  “Just okay?” he said, pretending to be insulted. He grinned at Anne Marie, who smiled back stiffly.

  Ellen laughed. “Baxter thinks you are, too.”

  “A dog with infinite good sense.” Tim continued to eat his ice cream and had it half-consumed before Anne Marie had even removed her wrapper.

  “Is there anything you want to ask me?” Tim directed the question to Ellen. “Since I might be dating your mother,” he added.

  She nodded again. “Do you have a job?”

  “I do,” he told her. “I work at an insurance agency with my father. Dad’s retiring next year and I’ll be taking over the business once he does.”

  Ellen looked at Anne Marie for clarification. “He’s got a good job,” she explained simply. “He works in an office.”

  Ellen’s attention returned to Tim. “Do you drink?”

  Anne Marie was shocked by that question. Surely Ellen couldn’t recall her own mother’s drinking—could she? She’d never indicated that in any way.

  “I used to a long time ago but I don’t anymore,” he said in a solemn voice.

  Ellen licked her ice cream while she thought about his response. “That’s good.”

  “It is for me,” he agreed.

  “Do you love Jesus?”

  “Ellen,” Anne Marie whispered, worried that the questions were getting too personal.

  “I do,” Tim answered. “But I don’t always go to church like I should.”

  Ellen accepted that. “Do you like animals?” she asked without a pause.

  Tim nodded. “I had a dog as a kid.”

  “Like Baxter?”

  “Not exactly. He was a big black Lab named Caesar.”

  “Do you have any pets now?”

  Tim took her rapid-fire questions in stride. “A cat named Bozo.”

  Ellen giggled delightedly. “That’s a funny name for a cat.”

  “Bozo’s a funny cat.” Tim crossed his legs at the ankles. He seemed relaxed, at ease, comfortable with the girl’s interrogation.

  Thankfully, Ellen’s questions had distracted him—and Ellen herself—from the fact that Anne Marie had hardly said a word. She couldn’t. If either of them so much as looked at her, Anne Marie was afraid she might just grab her daughter and take off running.

  “Do you like kids?” Ellen asked next, studying Tim intently.

  “I like them a lot.”

  “Little girls, too?”

  “Little girls, too, especially pretty ones like you.”

  His answer made her smile, revealing front teeth that were still a bit too big for her mouth. Anne Marie couldn’t help noticing that Ellen’s dark hair and eyes were nearly a reflection of Tim’s.

  “Have you ever thought about having a father in your life, Ellen?” he asked.

  Anne Marie shot him a warning frown.

  “That’s on my list!” She set the stick from her ice-cream bar carefully on the fountain’s edge. “Mom and I have a list of twenty wishes,” she said. “Do you know about it?”

  Tim shook his head. “Do you want to tell me?”

  “Okay.” Ellen was always eager to talk about her wishes, almost as though she was trying to convert everyone she met. “Mom and her friends made these lists of twenty wishes. I made my own list and a bunch of my wishes already came true. I wanted to learn to knit and I did. Mom showed me how and I made a scarf for my Grandma Dolores. She died.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.”

  “She’s up in heaven with Jesus now. She loved Him, too. Just like us.”

  “I bet she’s watching over you from up there,” Tim said sympathetically.

  “That’s what Mom said.”

  “Anything else on your list?”

  “Lots! We went to Paris. We were supposed to go last Christmas, but then there was a problem with our airline, remember? It was on the TV news and everything, so we had to wait until this summer, but that was even better. I have a new wish now.”

  Anne Marie couldn’t remember her daughter ever being this open with someone who was virtually a stranger.

  “What’s your new wish?” Tim asked her.

  “To learn French. I say a new word every day. Baxter knows that Viens ici means come here.” The dog raised his head and she laughed. “See? The chien understands.”

  “Good for you. Both of you.”

  “I’ve signed her up with a French tutor,” Anne Marie said. She’d found one through Teresa, who seemed acquainted with just about every teacher in the school district. “I’m going to be taking lessons, too.”

  Tim’s eyes softened as he glanced at Anne Marie. “You’re a terrific mother,” he said in a low voice.

  “I try.”

  “Do you have a list of wishes?” Ellen demanded.

  “Not yet, but I already know what I’m going to wish for.”

  Anne Marie looked at him suspiciously as Ellen chattered blithely on. “Barbie and Lillie and Elise have wish lists, too,” she was saying.
<
br />   “Friends of yours?” Tim asked, turning to Anne Marie.

  She nodded.

  “Barbie met Mark,” Ellen continued. “He’s in a wheelchair and they’re in love. And Lillie met Hector.”

  “Does she love him, too?”

  “Yes!” Ellen said loudly. “They hold hands in public.”

  Tim tried to restrain a smile. “Tell me more about your wishes.”

  “Okay.” Ellen’s expression was solemn. “I signed up for karate classes. That was one of my wishes.”

  “How’d it go?”

  Ellen wrinkled her nose. “Too many boys. They can be mean, you know.”

  Tim nodded gravely. “I heard that.”

  “Do you have kids?” she asked.

  His eyes darted to Anne Marie. “Not yet, but I’d really like to be a daddy one day.”

  “A man needs children,” Ellen said with all the wisdom of her nine years.

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Children are important.”

  Once again Tim glanced at Anne Marie. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  “Oh, there’s something else on my list. I nearly forgot. Only…only this wish hasn’t come true yet.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I want to meet my dad.”

  Anne Marie placed a protective hand on Ellen’s shoulder.

  “Your dad?” he repeated slowly.

  Ellen bent down to scoop up the dog and held him close. “Everybody has one, you know.”

  “I know,” Tim said quietly. “Did anyone ever tell you anything about him?”

  Ellen shook her head sadly. “I don’t even have his picture.”

  That was a blessing as far as Anne Marie was concerned.

  “I’m sure he wonders about you, too,” Tim said. “I bet if he knew he had such a lovely little girl, he’d be very happy.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “I’m positive.”

  Before this could go any further, Anne Marie said, “Ellen, why don’t you play on the swing set while Tim and I visit?”

  “Okay. Can Baxter come with me?”

  “He should probably stay here for now. You can take him on the merry-go-round later, okay?”

  “Okay,” she agreed readily enough, then dashed off to play with the other children.

  “Enough about the father business,” Anne Marie said with barely restrained anger.

  Tim raised both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I didn’t bring it up. She did.”

  “You led her on.”

  “I don’t want to argue, Anne Marie. It’s clear to me that Ellen is curious about her father. That’s the reason you called me in the middle of the night, isn’t it? Ellen asked you questions you couldn’t answer.”

  Anne Marie ignored him.

  “She’s a delightful child,” Tim said, his gaze resting fondly on Ellen.

  No one needed to tell Anne Marie that. Reluctantly she handed over the baggie of hair she’d collected from Ellen’s brush. That was all he required, Tim had said, to establish paternity.

  He slipped it inside his pocket. “You’ve done a wonderful job with her.”

  “Her grandmother deserves most of the credit. Ellen’s only been with me for a year or so.”

  “Nevertheless, she seems happy and well-adjusted.”

  If he thought he could flatter his way into their lives, he was mistaken. “Thank you,” she said coolly.

  “I appreciate that you allowed me to meet Ellen.” He hesitated. “With your permission I’d like to meet again.”

  She held herself rigid. “When?”

  “Whenever it’s agreeable with you.”

  She looked at him narrowly. “Don’t be so accommodating. It confuses me.”

  He grinned and his smile emphasized the laugh lines around his mouth and beside his eyes. Under any other circumstances she would’ve found him charming and attractive. She couldn’t lower her guard with him, though. Not yet, and maybe not ever.

  “Anne Marie,” he said, his expression serious. “I hope you’ll let me take you both out on another…date.”

  “I’ll consider it.” Anne Marie wasn’t willing to make any promises beyond that.

  “I am your boyfriend, remember? Your sort-of boyfriend, anyway.”

  She scowled at him.

  Ellen had waited her turn for a swing and then joined the other kids, kicking her feet in the air as she soared higher and higher. Children’s laughter rang through the park, and Anne Marie recognized the distinctive sound of her daughter’s high-pitched giggle. After several minutes, Ellen raced back to the fountain. Baxter barked when he saw her, his tail wagging madly.

  Tim got up as she approached. “It was very nice to meet you, Ellen. And I hope all your wishes come true.”

  “Me, too. Especially the one about my father.” She wrinkled her forehead.

  “What’s the matter? You don’t want to meet him?” Tim asked, obviously bewildered.

  “I do, but I asked Mom what she thought he looked like and she said he probably had big warts on his face.” She giggled again.

  Tim slid a look toward Anne Marie. “Did she, now? What else did she have to say?”

  “It was a joke,” Anne Marie rushed to add.

  “That he had really big feet.” Ellen raised her leg. “Feet as big as a clown’s.”

  “Personally, I doubt that’s true,” Tim said, squatting so the two of them were at eye level. “My guess is that your father’s a handsome prince who’d like nothing better than to sweep you and your mom off to a magic kingdom.”

  Ellen’s dark eyes rounded with pleasure. “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “That would be so cool!”

  “Yes, it would,” Tim agreed and, straightening, he looked at Anne Marie. “Don’t you agree?” he asked. And then he winked at her.

  CHAPTER 18

  Large or small, all types of women’s bodies are beautiful and I want to give knitters permission to express their beauty through what they make and wear.

  —Joan McGowan-Michael, www.whiteliesdesigns.com and author of Knitting Lingerie Style (2007)

  Lydia Goetz

  I’d noticed subtle changes in Casey since I’d taken her to see her brother, Lee, last Monday. A week had passed, and she’d begun spending more time with the family, instead of hiding in her bedroom with the door closed.

  Without being asked, she’d set the dining-room table one night. I was pleased—and surprised—but I didn’t dare comment. She started doing her homework at the kitchen table, too. All this had taken place since seeing her brother. His encouragement, and his talk about going to college and getting a job so he could send for her, had given her hope. I prayed everything would work out for Lee and consequently for Casey.

  Monday night, I served my special meat loaf, from a recipe Margaret had shared with me. She hadn’t gotten it via any of the usual methods today—cookbook, magazine or the Food Channel. Instead, my sister had heard about it at her hairdresser’s. Like Margaret, I’ve discovered that some of the best recipes come by word of mouth. It had certainly proved true in this instance. Her meat loaf had become a family favorite.

  It was a cool and rainy afternoon and because I was home all day doing housework, I didn’t mind having the oven on, even if it was almost the middle of July.

  I’d been to see my mother earlier that morning, having switched days with Margaret, and then after summer school, Casey had hung around me most of the afternoon instead of attending day camp. I thought she might want to make cookies again, but she declined. She asked if she could bake a cake instead. I agreed, and we found a recipe for an apple upside-down cake in my cherished old Joy of Cooking. It turned out really well, too.

  Again without being asked, she set the table for dinner and called Brad and Cody once everything was ready.

  “Janice phoned me this afternoon,” Brad said as he loaded his plate with a helping of peas and mashed p
otatoes, followed by a thick slice of meat loaf.

  Cody’s mother hadn’t contacted them since school was dismissed for the summer. I’d been figuring we’d hear from her sooner or later.

  “She wants to see Cody tomorrow afternoon.” Brad turned to me and then our son.

  “That’s nice,” I said in what I hoped was an encouraging voice.

  “What do you think about seeing your mother, buddy?” Brad asked, ladling gravy over everything on his plate.

  Cody shrugged. “Do I have to spend the night?”

  “Not unless you want to.”

  Cody seemed torn. “She doesn’t have any computer games and she doesn’t like Chase. Can I see her and hug her and go home again?”

  I hid a smile. Cody was more concerned about being away from his Xbox and his dog than spending time with his mother. And I couldn’t really blame him. Although he was only ten, he knew what Janice was like. He showed her the same level of interest she’d given him.

  Casey frowned as she listened to the exchange. “I thought Lydia was your mother.”

  “She is,” Cody said, smashing peas with his fork and mixing them into his potatoes. “I have two moms.”

  “I married Brad when Cody was eight,” I explained to Casey.

  “Why don’t you have more kids?” she asked.

  I set my fork beside my plate. “As a result of the chemo and radiation used to treat my cancer, I can’t have children.”

  “That’s why you applied for adoption?”

  I nodded. The subject of my infertility wasn’t as painful to me as it’d once been. For years I’d been convinced that even if I found a man willing to live with the uncertainty I faced as a two-time cancer survivor, my inability to bear a child would kill any hope of marriage. And then I’d met Brad Goetz…. I counted my blessings every day. My feelings of inadequacy had diminished because of his unstinting love and support. And since we’d set our adoption plans in motion, I’d been feeling almost serene.

  Casey was quiet after that, as though the conversation distressed her.

  “Cody’s going to be with his mother tomorrow afternoon. Would you like to come by the yarn store after school?” I asked her as we finished our meal.

  At first Casey didn’t realize I’d spoken to her. “Me?” she asked as she looked around the table.