“I’m sorry.” He reached across the table and took her hand in a consoling gesture.
“His name—my fiancé’s friend—is…oh, it doesn’t matter. I thought, you know, that if I showed him I was getting on with my life that he’d…that he would, too.”
Hutch waited a moment, then said, “Apparently he wasn’t ready to hear that.”
Shaking her head, she frowned. “He went ballistic.”
Hutch felt that was excessive. The guy’s friend was dead. It wasn’t as though Phoebe could dedicate the rest of her life to the memory of the man she’d loved.
“Was he especially close to your fiancé?” he asked.
She didn’t meet his gaze and simply nodded. “I’m still so upset that I don’t really want to talk about it.”
Hutch respected that. “Then we won’t. Let’s discuss something cheerful instead.”
She grinned weakly. “Do you have any ideas?’
He’d considered this earlier. “What about a trip to the beach this weekend?” he asked. “My family owns a condo in Westport.”
Hutch hadn’t been there in years. His sister and her family were the only ones who really took advantage of the place. His mother made the trek once every summer with a few of her friends. Hutch figured he should have a turn, too.
Phoebe instantly brightened. “I’d love that.”
He did want to clear up one thing. “Not to worry—there are three bedrooms. No pressure.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“Hey, my masculinity’s suffering here. I was hoping you’d be so tempted by my wild sexuality that you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me.”
Phoebe laughed.
“I wasn’t joking.”
“Yes, you were.”
He laughed, too. “Well, maybe, but not all that much.” Hutch wanted to be far more than friends. Still, he’d never coerce her into a sexual relationship, although the subject was on his mind constantly.
“A weekend at the beach sounds like exactly what I need.” She smiled at him gratefully. “It would be wonderful to get away for a couple of days.”
“Then I’ll make the arrangements. I’ll pick you up Saturday morning at eight if that’s not too early, and we’ll drive back Sunday afternoon.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll do the cooking.”
“No need. There are wonderful restaurants in town.”
“Please, I insist. I make a good seafood linguine.”
“If you want to cook, fine, but it really isn’t necessary.”
“Yes, it is. And I’ll make brunch on Sunday. My cheese omelet will melt in your mouth.”
Hutch couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Maybe we should leave tomorrow instead of waiting for the weekend.”
For the first time all evening, Phoebe looked relaxed and carefree. “I’d love to,” she told him, “but I have clients scheduled.”
“And I have meetings.”
“Then Saturday it is,” she said.
“Saturday it is,” he echoed. “And it can’t come soon enough.”
CHAPTER 20
Anne Marie Roche
Ellen packed her overnight bag as if she intended to spend a month with her new grandmother instead of overnight. “Should I take Thierry?” she asked Anne Marie, holding the stuffed teddy bear she’d purchased in France.
“I doubt he’ll fit in your suitcase,” Anne Marie told her, standing in the doorway of her daughter’s room. “I think you’ll be able to survive one night without him, don’t you?”
“Okay,” Ellen said, trying to zip up the small suitcase that bulged on both sides. Baxter slept on the bed, curled up tightly, snoozing away the Friday afternoon.
Anne Marie stepped inside the room. “Maybe I should help you close that.”
“I can do it,” Ellen insisted, and sure enough, she managed to pull the zipper all the way around, although it was a struggle. Turning, she smiled triumphantly at Anne Marie. “See?”
Anne Marie’s mother had agreed to keep Ellen overnight. This wasn’t the first night Ellen had spent with her Grandma Laura. Her mother’s wholehearted support of the adoption meant a lot to Anne Marie, especially since their relationship had been a difficult one for some years.
“We’re going to watch movies and have popcorn and then tomorrow Grandma Laura’s taking me to the Pacific Science Center and she said I could ride on the monorail.”
“You’re going to have fun on Saturday.”
“What are you doing?” Ellen asked. Apparently the thought had only now entered her mind.
“Well…” Anne Marie had a full schedule, too. “To start with, I’m seeing Tim again.” She’d purposely made it sound like a date. Although they were meeting at a restaurant, this wasn’t a social engagement. Tim had gotten the test results back and had asked to talk to her privately. “Then I’m—”
“I like him,” Ellen said, interrupting her. “He’s funny.”
Anne Marie responded with a wobbly smile. “He is very nice,” she agreed reluctantly. Intent on changing the subject, she quickly added, “Then on Saturday afternoon, when I’m finished at the bookstore, I’m going out with a real estate agent to look at a couple of houses.”
Ellen’s face fell. “I don’t want to move. I like it here.”
Anne Marie was well aware of her daughter’s feelings, which was why she’d delayed leaving the neighborhood. Ellen loved their tiny apartment and the friends she’d made on Blossom Street. For most of her life, she’d been shuffled from foster home to foster home, and then to her Grandma Dolores’s.
Understandably Ellen craved permanence and stability, and Anne Marie intended to provide that. Whenever they’d discussed moving from the apartment, Ellen had seemed apprehensive, so Anne Marie had waited. She was trying to handle this carefully to avoid undermining Ellen’s still-fragile sense of security. She’d hoped to find a house this summer and move in by the time school started. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Once we’re in our new house we’ll never move again,” Anne Marie promised.
She could tell that Ellen didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
“What else are you doing?” the girl asked.
“Saturday afternoon I’ll pick you up and we’ll go see Melissa, Michael and the baby. Brandon’s coming, too.”
Ellen broke into a smile and clapped her hands. “Oh, goody!”
In the course of the past year, Anne Marie’s relationship with her stepdaughter had gone from hostile, on Melissa’s part, to one of mutual affection and shared confidences. Robert would be thrilled to know that the two women he’d loved were now close friends. His son, Brandon, had always been a supporter of Anne Marie’s and that hadn’t changed.
“You ready to head out?” Anne Marie asked.
Nodding, Ellen dragged the heavy bag off her bed.
On the drive over to her mother’s house, Anne Marie reminded Ellen about her manners, although it wasn’t really necessary, since Ellen was a well-behaved child. Anne Marie stayed only long enough to get her settled. They hugged goodbye and then Ellen stood in the front window, Grandma Laura behind her, waving wildly.
Nerves twisted Anne Marie’s stomach as she got closer to her destination. She was meeting Tim Carlsen at a restaurant near his insurance agency—and as far from Blossom Street as possible.
Forty minutes later, she parked on the street Tim had mentioned. She saw him pacing in front of the old-fashioned diner, waiting for her. Glancing at her watch, she noted that she was right on time, almost to the minute.
Tim’s eyes met hers as she crossed the street.
“Let’s go inside,” he said abruptly.
“Fine.” She didn’t know whether the DNA result was good news, or even what defined good in this situation. All she could tell was that Tim seemed uneasy. That could mean he’d learned he was Ellen’s biological father—or that he wasn’t.
They found a booth and slid inside, sitting opposite each other. The w
aitress brought over a coffeepot and Anne Marie righted her mug, as did Tim. He and the older woman exchanged fond greetings; he was obviously a regular and well-liked, which didn’t surprise Anne Marie.
“So?” she asked anxiously. “What did you find out?”
Before he could answer, the waitress returned with menus and said, “The special today is chicken-fried steak. Cook uses a recipe he got from his grandmother who was from Texas,” she announced proudly. “The soup’s split pea.”
After she left, Tim asked, “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head and then, as if to denounce her as a liar, her stomach growled loudly enough for him to hear.
He grinned. “The soup’s homemade. I know, because I had it for lunch.”
His smile intrigued Anne Marie. “All right, I’ll have a bowl of the soup, but only if you eat something, too.”
He agreed and when the waitress came back they placed their orders. A moment later, Anne Marie repeated the question that had been burning in her mind ever since his phone call. “So you got the results?”
Tim nodded, took an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Ellen’s my daughter,” he said without preamble.
Anne Marie went numb. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, how she was supposed to react. The first emotion that struck her was fear.
“I’d like to remind you that Ellen’s legally my daughter now,” she finally managed. “You have no rights as far as the courts are concerned. You—”
Tim raised one hand to forestall her. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of trying to take her away from you or proceeding with any form of legal action.”
Anne Marie sighed with relief. “Thank you.”
Staring down at the table, he unwrapped his silverware, setting it and the paper napkin aside. “I don’t mind telling you the results shook me,” he said in a low voice.
“I thought you already knew.”
He glanced at her. “I suspected, but having that suspicion confirmed jolted me. All the emotions I felt—well, it was kind of a shock.”
“How do you mean?”
He fidgeted with the fork, running his finger over the tines. “Well, for one thing, I felt tremendous guilt at having abandoned Candy.”
“As I recall, you didn’t even know she was pregnant.” Because of that, he had no reason to feel guilty, in her view anyway.
“That’s true,” he said. “But Candy tried to let me know and that’s been bothering me.”
Anne Marie looked at him steadily but didn’t speak.
“I had a long talk with my sponsor.”
“Your sponsor?”
“Sorry. In Alcoholics Anonymous, part of the program includes having a sponsor, someone who’s successfully stayed clean and sober. That person listens and encourages when needed.”
“Of course.” She should’ve known that was what he meant.
Tim set his fork aside and reached for the spoon. “Knowing I have a child threw me more than anything else since I entered rehab.”
“I imagine the guilt and regret is only natural.”
“I want to make it up to Ellen somehow and yet I know I can’t,” Tim said. “I have a beautiful, intelligent, delightful child I can’t even acknowledge and it’s killing me.” He plowed his hand through his hair. Anne Marie recognized the agony in that gesture.
As if he suddenly realized what he’d said, his gaze shot to her. “Please don’t misunderstand me. I don’t blame you. Not in the slightest. If it wasn’t for you in Ellen’s life, I’m sure she wouldn’t be as healthy and happy as she is now. After Dolores died, Ellen could’ve ended up who-knows-where. I can’t even be sure I would’ve found my daughter if not for you or had the chance to confirm that Ellen’s my child.”
Despite everything, Anne Marie was beginning to feel sorry for him. “Did your sponsor help you sort through all these emotions?”
Tim responded with a nod. “What he said about acknowledging my feelings made sense. At the same time, the fact that Ellen’s my own flesh and blood hasn’t sunk in.”
“Yes, well…”
“I’ve only seen Ellen once and I love her. I mean, I love that little girl. There are years of my life that are more or less a blur. Years I squandered on stupid, destructive behavior. And yet out of that whole mess came Ellen. Precious, innocent, perfect Ellen.”
“I guess that’s why they say God works in mysterious ways.”
Tim laughed. “That’s for sure.”
The waitress arrived with their meals, Anne Marie’s soup and chicken-fried steak for Tim. They paused long enough to sample their food.
After taking a few bites, Tim put down his fork. “Would you allow me to see her again?”
Anne Marie hesitated, caught between contradictory impulses— compassion for Tim and fear for herself.
“Not alone or anything. You’d always be there.”
Anne Marie knew that once this door was opened, there’d be no closing it. After a moment, she said—felt she had to say—“I think that would be fine.”
For an instant she saw tears glistening in his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You’ve been kind and generous when I haven’t deserved either.”
“We’ll go about this very slowly,” she warned.
“However you wish.”
“Ellen believes you’re my boyfriend, and I feel we should let her continue with that assumption.”
“I agree,” Tim said. “How soon before I can ask you two on another date?”
“When would you like?”
“Would this Sunday work for you?”
Anne Marie smiled. “That would work very well.”
“I have a sailboat,” Tim said eagerly. “Would you and Ellen enjoy going out on the water with me?”
Anne Marie wouldn’t presume to speak for her daughter, but she knew she herself would love it. “Sounds great.”
“It’s docked at Lake Washington. I could meet you at the bookstore. Say one-thirty?”
“We’ll be ready.”
Tim ate with renewed vigor. When he’d almost finished his meal, he stopped and looked directly at Anne Marie. “Thank you,” he said again. “For everything.”
“Thank Ellen. She’s the one with the list.”
“Her twenty wishes.”
“Yes. She wrote down that she wanted to meet her father.”
“And she has.” Tim picked up his coffee. “This can’t be easy for you,” he said. “I promise I’ll never abuse your trust or break your rules.”
“I believe you,” she told him. “Besides, you’re the one who reminded me that a child needs a father.”
He smiled knowingly.
Anne Marie ate some of her soup and then answered questions about her history with Ellen. She wasn’t sure why, but she told him about Robert and how she happened to meet shy, reticent Ellen. Like Ellen’s finding her father, Anne Marie’s connection with her daughter had started with her own list of twenty wishes.
“Ellen quiet?” Tim said. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“She’s gradually come out of her shell.”
“Tell me more about her. Tell me everything you can remember.”
Anne Marie did, and before she knew it, almost two hours had passed. “Oh, my goodness, I’ve been talking up a storm.” She laughed. “No, make that a hurricane.”
“I’ve enjoyed every word,” he said contentedly. His interest was genuine and his love for the daughter he’d never known had touched her heart.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked.
Like her, he seemed reluctant to part.
“Okay.”
“I’ll take you by the agency where Dad and I work.”
She nodded, curious about everything concerning her daughter’s father.
Tim paid for their meals and they strolled down the street. When they came to the agency, he pointed to the names printed on the door. “I hope Ellen and my parents will get the opportunity to meet on
e day,” he said casually. Then, as if he feared he’d said something he shouldn’t, he added, “Only if you agree, of course.”
“Eventually,” she said, willing to consider it.
“They never lost faith in me,” he said. “While I was using, they were tough. They didn’t approve of the choices I was making and yet, when I hit bottom, my father was there for me. Mom, too. They’re the ones who arranged for me to enter rehab.” He hadn’t told her much about what he referred to as his “wasted years.”
“At the time I wasn’t capable of doing anything for myself. I needed help and like I said, my parents were there.”
“They sound like wonderful people.”
“They are. I’m very fortunate. A lot of addicts and alcoholics don’t have the family support I do. It’s made all the difference to me.”
“You’ve been clean and sober for eight years?”
“By the grace of God, nearly nine. For me, it’s one day at a time and it always will be. I attend AA meetings at the rehab center every Thursday night. It’s encouraging for people going through rehab to see someone who’s successfully completed the program and stayed clean all these years.”
They wandered back to where Anne Marie had parked her car. “Thank you for a good evening,” she said. It had been, in more ways than he probably realized.
Tim opened her car door. “You’re welcome. And…thank you.”
He stood on the curb, lifting one hand in a small wave as she pulled away.
Driving home, Anne Marie felt reassured, free of the worry and fear she’d experienced only a few hours ago. She hadn’t been prepared to like Tim Carlsen, but she did.
She actually liked him quite a bit.
CHAPTER 21
Teaching a child to knit is one of the greatest joys a knitter can experience.
—Karen Thalacker, author of Knitting with Gigi and Gigi Knits…and Purls. www.gigiknits.com
Lydia Goetz
I’d taken a rare Saturday off and wouldn’t you know it, the day was gloomy and overcast. Brad and I had told the kids that if the weather was nice, we’d rent bikes so they could ride around Green Lake. Casey’s eyes got big when we mentioned it, and I learned she’d never done anything like that. Brad and I generally walked; the three miles around the lake was good exercise and we enjoyed the scenery with its aura of peace and serenity.
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