“What did you buy?” Hutch asked when she rejoined him.
She opened the bag and proudly revealed her booty. “I’m going to learn to knit socks.”
“Terrific.”
“Do you like the colors?” she asked.
“You bet.” He smiled down at her—and kept smiling.
For that matter so did Phoebe. Although they were surrounded by thousands of cheering fans, they were gazing only at each other.
“I thought I’d knit them for you,” she whispered.
He didn’t say anything, but reached for her hand and entwined their fingers, his grip hard. She squeezed back, wanting him to know she shared the intensity of his feelings.
“Excuse me, guys,” Alix said, hurrying past.
“Oh, sorry,” Hutch said, standing up so Alix and Jordan could get by.
“Where are they off to in such a hurry?” Phoebe asked no one in particular.
“No idea,” Margaret answered, her fingers moving the crochet hook with speed and dexterity. She seemed to be working on an afghan. Casey was crocheting, too, and Lydia was knitting. What most impressed Phoebe was that Lydia could knit without even looking at the needles. Phoebe, on the other hand, watched every single stitch for fear of making a mistake. The thought of having to rip out a row traumatized her, although she’d been forced to do so often enough.
A few minutes later, Alix was back, this time without Jordan. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she stepped over Phoebe’s feet. “All of a sudden I had to get to a restroom.” She slipped past the couple sitting next to them.
Jordan followed soon after, apologizing as he did. He carried one hot dog and a soda, and when he sat down beside Alix, Phoebe noticed that the two of them were sharing the meal. Living on a youth pastor’s salary probably made it difficult to splurge on dinner out two nights in a single week.
Phoebe knew from class yesterday that they’d squabbled, although she didn’t know about what. Apparently that had happened before she’d arrived. At the end of class, Jordan had stopped by to pick up Alix as usual. He’d stood by the door, looking depressed, not at all his normal outgoing self.
As soon as Alix saw her husband, she’d set her knitting down and rushed to his side. For a long moment, all they did was stare at each other—and then Jordan had reached out and grabbed Alix with both arms, hugging her close.
Later that evening, just as she and Hutch had gone off in different directions, Phoebe caught sight of Alix and Jordan in a burger place, their heads together, eating and talking animatedly.
Obviously whatever strain had existed between them yesterday afternoon had passed.
Tonight’s game ended with the Mariners winning at the bottom of the ninth. The crowd was jubilant as they poured out of Safeco Field. Walking hand in hand, Phoebe and Hutch made their way to the parking lot, where Hutch had left his vehicle.
For the first time that evening, he seemed somewhat withdrawn. She didn’t need to ask what was troubling him—the lawsuit against Mount Rainier Chocolates. He’d occasionally mentioned it, never disclosing very much. She’d also seen an article about the lawsuit in the paper, but it hadn’t provided any more information than she already had.
“How about a cup of coffee at my place?” she suggested.
He smiled at her and nodded, making a visible effort to resume his cheerful attitude.
She swallowed painfully. She was going to confess that she’d misled him—and everyone in the knitting class—about her fiancé. She should never have let the pretence go on for this long.
But when she was with Hutch there were so many other things to talk about. Still, he’d recently commented on the fact that she didn’t have any pictures of her fiancé around the condo. For a moment his remark had jarred her, until she remembered that he thought Clark was dead.
She trusted that he’d forgive her this foolish deception, which had taken on a life, a momentum, of its own.
She also hoped that after tonight’s confession, he’d feel free to share his worries over this lawsuit. In her opinion, the entire matter was frivolous, a waste of time. But whenever she’d asked him about it, Hutch had brushed aside her questions and said his attorney was handling it. He always added that he wasn’t really worried. Only he was. That seemed very clear tonight.
Once they were at her condo, she put away her yarn purchase, ground fresh beans and made a small pot of coffee, just enough for two cups.
She joined Hutch in the living room and handed him his mug.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she began softly.
Hutch stiffened, almost as if he knew what was coming—although he couldn’t possibly. “Okay,” he said. “Is it serious?”
She nodded. “I’ve been lying to you.”
Hutch carefully set his mug on the low table beside him. “I’d rather deal with the truth now than later.”
She took a sip of her coffee, then glanced down. “When I signed up for the knitting class, I told everyone I was engaged and that my fiancé died.”
“So he’s not dead?” Hutch frowned and anxiety flared in his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re married.”
Despite her nervousness, she smiled. “No, he’s not dead and I’m not married. It’s nothing like that.”
His shoulders slumped with relief.
“I was engaged and in love with a man who…” She paused, finding it difficult to continue. “I broke off the engagement two months ago, when I discovered he’d been arrested for solicitation.”
Hutch pressed his hand over hers. He didn’t say anything.
“It happened before this, too. I took him back the first time…”
“The first time you knew about,” he commented.
“Exactly. I have to suspect there were other instances.”
“Oh, Phoebe.”
“He managed to convince me it would never happen again, and I believed him.” She didn’t mention the pressure she was under from both Clark’s family and her own to forgive and forget.
“I’m sorry.”
She licked her lips, which felt dry and cracked. “I did what I had to do, ended the engagement, and although it was painful I don’t regret it, not for a second.” Telling Hutch about Clark’s most recent attempt to get her to take him back would only upset him. Phoebe decided to say nothing.
“So when you enrolled in the Knit to Quit class, it was because you were trying to stop loving your fiancé?”
Lowering her head, Phoebe nodded.
“Has it helped?”
She looked up at him and grinned. “More than you’ll ever know. I was crushed, devastated, humiliated, angry. I realize now that while I did love Clark, his actions killed all the feelings I had for him.”
Hutch brought her close and touched his forehead to hers. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I couldn’t lie to you any longer.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, lightly, tenderly, in a way she’d come to adore. His gentleness stirred her more than a dozen passionate caresses. Slipping her arms around his neck, she raised her mouth to his and they kissed for a long time, each kiss connecting them on a deeper level. She leaned against his shoulder, her head spinning with desire. Hutch’s breathing was ragged.
They sat like that, satiated and at peace, for a while.
“Tell me about the lawsuit,” she finally said.
Hutch exhaled. “There isn’t much to tell.”
“You’re worried, though.”
“I am. My attorney’s agreed to fight it but he’d prefer that I settled out of court. I refuse to do that. It would be like an admission of guilt. However, my attorney feels I’m taking a terrible risk letting this case go to trial.” Hutch was silent for a moment. “The suit’s raised a lot of interest nationwide. If I lose, it opens the door for other people to sue the larger companies, claiming chocolate is addictive. And what about alcoholics suing wineries? Or prescription-drug abusers blaming the pharmaceuticals? You see what I mean. There�
�s a lot more at stake than meets the eye.”
“Is it worth all this angst?” she asked, siding with his attorney. In this particular instance it might be best to simply pay off this idiotic woman and be done with it.
“I don’t know,” he admitted with some reluctance. “I turned down their first settlement offer. I can’t see handing over such a large chunk of cash just to make this go away. When my attorney suggested we might be willing to settle, the plaintiff came back with an even higher demand.”
“Greed does nasty things to a person.”
“No kidding. Besides, who’s to say I won’t be sued again next week, next month, next year? It’s dangerous either way. I’d rather confront this head-on and have it dealt with once and for all.”
Phoebe sighed. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“There is.”
“What?” she asked eagerly.
He folded her in his embrace. “Let me hold you for a few more minutes,” he whispered. “When you’re in my arms I can’t think of anything else.”
Hutch might not be as eloquent as Clark had been, but his words were sincere. His emotions were real.
CHAPTER 29
Anne Marie Roche
This was going to be difficult; Anne Marie could see it already. As Tim had repeatedly reminded her, she was the one who’d insisted on being present when Ellen met Vanessa. That was certainly true, but Anne Marie didn’t think meeting at the Mariners’ game for Stitch and Pitch night—meeting “accidentally on purpose”—was such a brilliant idea. She’d agreed to do it his way, although it went against her instincts.
That had been her first mistake. They’d arrived at the game as planned and were headed toward their seats when Tim had called out to them. He’d made a pretense of just noticing them.
The evening had gone downhill from there.
Vanessa had been openly hostile to Anne Marie. To Ellen she’d been patronizing and saccharine sweet. The worst part, as far as Anne Marie was concerned, was that Tim didn’t appear to perceive anything amiss with Vanessa’s behavior. To all outward appearances, he seemed to feel the meeting couldn’t have gone better.
In Anne Marie’s opinion, the whole experience had been a disaster. Now that they were home and Ellen was preparing for bed, she had a chance to mull over the events of the evening.
“Mom,” Ellen called from her bedroom. “I’m ready.”
Time for their nightly ritual. Ellen climbed into bed with Baxter cuddled next to her. Anne Marie knelt on the floor so Ellen could say her prayers.
“Did you enjoy the baseball game?” Anne Marie asked.
“It was all right.”
It wasn’t for Anne Marie, but she couldn’t tell Ellen that.
The girl looked guilelessly up at her. “I thought you were Tim’s girlfriend.”
Doing her best to sound calm and serene, Anne Marie smiled down at her daughter. “Tim and Vanessa are a couple.”
“Oh.” Ellen frowned. “But he took you out to dinner by yourself, remember?”
Anne Marie wasn’t likely to forget. “Vanessa was there,” she half-lied. Perhaps not in the physical sense but in every other way Tim’s girlfriend had been with them.
“You didn’t tell me about her.”
Anne Marie realized she didn’t actually know very much about the other woman. “I guess I should’ve told you earlier,” she said.
In a short time Ellen had grown close to Tim. She admired him and talked about him incessantly. Along with Brad, Mark and Hector he was a positive male figure, and Anne Marie wouldn’t say or do anything to jeopardize that special relationship.
“I know meeting Vanessa was a surprise.” Tim had wanted to be the one to introduce Vanessa to Ellen, and Anne Marie had agreed. In retrospect it would’ve been a hundred times better if she’d been able to lead up to the subject of this other woman. She wished now that she’d suggested it and regretted that she hadn’t.
“You like Tim, don’t you?” Ellen asked.
For fear her voice would give her away, Anne Marie nodded instead.
“And he likes you?”
“Yes,” she said, “just not in a girlfriend-boyfriend way.”
“Oh.” Clearly Ellen was disappointed as well as confused.
Who could blame her? “The person Tim really loves is you,” Anne Marie murmured.
“Me?” Ellen’s eyes flashed with delight. “I like him, too. He makes me laugh and takes us neat places.”
“Yes, he does. Besides, Tim knew your grandmother and your other mom.” Anne Marie didn’t believe it was her place to inform the child that she was Tim’s biological daughter. She’d leave that to him—at a mutually acceptable time and place. This evening had taught her a valuable lesson. She wasn’t about to let Tim blurt out the news without first laying the groundwork.
Ellen’s dark eyes widened. “He knew my Grandma Dolores? How come I never met him till now?”
Anne Marie wasn’t prepared to answer that question. She’d already stretched the truth about as far as it would go. “You’ll need to ask Tim the next time he stops by.”
“Will Vanessa be there?”
“Probably. You like her, don’t you?”
Ellen shrugged. “She’s okay, but she talks to me like I’m a baby.”
“She’ll learn,” Anne Marie assured her and prayed that was true. “Vanessa’s a very nice person.” She almost gritted her teeth as she said it.
Ellen seemed to consider that and then nodded. “She must be if Tim loves her.”
Good point. Anne Marie hadn’t thought of it in those terms. Out of the mouths of nine-year-olds…
“You’re right.” Anne Marie reached for Ellen’s small hands and closed her eyes, prepared to listen while the child said her prayers. These sometimes went on for three or four minutes. She asked God to bless Anne Marie first, then listed all her friends from school and day camp, followed by her Blossom Street friends and finally Tim. She hesitated and added Vanessa to the list.
“Amen,” Ellen said, opening her eyes.
“Amen,” Anne Marie echoed and kissed Ellen’s cheek. She stroked Baxter’s silky fur, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Restless and unsure, Anne Marie folded her arms and paced the kitchen, mulling over the conversation with her daughter. The truth was, she’d been hostile toward Vanessa. Well, maybe not hostile, but certainly not hospitable. She resented the other woman, who’d ruined the perfect scenario she’d created for Ellen, Tim and her.
Anne Marie was shocked to discover how strong her feelings for Tim were. She hadn’t expected that in the beginning. But the transformation in her attitude had been gradual. He’d been so good, so natural, with Ellen. Anne Marie had watched him closely, initially unwilling to trust him, yet he’d earned her trust. Earned it to the point that she’d lowered her guard. She’d half convinced herself she was falling in love with him.
When he’d told her about Vanessa, she’d been angry and embarrassed, but in retrospect she understood that Tim had been in a difficult position. He’d already sprung the news that he was Ellen’s biological father. He’d tried to be fair, giving Anne Marie a chance to get used to that reality before he introduced Vanessa into their lives, as well. Whether it was the best way to handle the situation didn’t matter. What was done was done.
Unfortunately her relationship with Vanessa had started badly. They were both at fault, because both felt threatened. If it was ever going to be made right, Anne Marie would need to reach out to the other woman.
The next morning, she decided to get in touch with Vanessa as soon as possible. She’d have to ask Tim for her phone number; she’d call him later. After taking Ellen to day camp, she opened the bookstore. She was still counting cash into the till when she saw Tim standing at the door. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night.
“Good morning,” she greeted him cheerfully.
He frowned.
“It isn’t a good morning?”
she teased, smiling at him.
Slowly he smiled back. “It is now,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to be in such a happy mood.”
“Why not?”
He scratched his head. “Vanessa didn’t feel things went well last night.”
Anne Marie broke a roll of quarters and added them to the register drawer. “They didn’t, but I take responsibility for that.”
“You do?”
“I wasn’t as…friendly as I might’ve been to Vanessa. I owe her—and you—an apology.”
Tim just stared at her, as if he wasn’t sure he should believe what she’d said. “You?”
“I should’ve taken Vanessa’s feelings into account more. She felt I’d intruded on her territory, didn’t she?”
“Well…yes, something like that.”
This next part was the most difficult. “You were right—I’m afraid I read more into the situation between you and me than I should have. That probably caused a certain amount of animosity in our initial meeting.” She was embarrassed to admit this, but he already knew. It wasn’t as though she’d done a good job of hiding her feelings.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said, eager to change the subject. “If you’ll give me Vanessa’s phone number, I’ll call her and see if I can make amends. I’m sure she feels as awkward about what happened at the game as I do.”
Tim stepped closer to the counter as he scribbled a number on the back of his business card. “Can you tell me exactly what did happen?”
Anne Marie shrugged. “It was nothing really. Just undercurrents between the two of us.” Basically they’d stared daggers at each other. It had been a juvenile display that Anne Marie regretted.
“What did Ellen think of Vanessa?” Tim asked.
Anne Marie didn’t answer immediately. “She told me that if you love Vanessa, she must be very special.” No need to mention the comment about Vanessa speaking to her as if she were a baby.
Some of the tension seemed to leave Tim’s shoulders. “She actually said that?”
“She did.”
Summer on Blossom Street Page 25
