Summer on Blossom Street

by Debbie Macomber

  Vanessa sat on the sofa, arms still crossed as she glared suspiciously at Anne Marie—as if to ask what she’d been doing in the garage with Tim all that time.

  “Hello,” Tim’s mother said softly. “You must be Ellen.”

  “Mom, Dad, meet your granddaughter.”

  Ellen sidled close to Tim, looking small and uncertain.

  “My name is Mary,” Tim’s mother said, “but I hope you’ll call me Grandma.”

  Ellen gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  “I’m Thomas, and I’m your grandfather,” Tim’s father told her next.

  “I didn’t know I could have three grandmas,” Ellen said in a tentative voice.

  Anne Marie felt she needed to explain. “Ellen was living with her Grandma Dolores when we first met. After I adopted Ellen, my mother wanted to be called Grandma, too.”

  “Would you rather call me Mary?” his mother asked, glancing from Ellen to Anne Marie.

  Anne Marie decided to let her daughter answer that herself.

  “I’ll call you Grandma,” Ellen said after a bit.

  “That would be very nice.” Mary straightened. “I hope you like fried chicken because that’s what we’re having for dinner.”

  Ellen nodded.

  “When your daddy was a little boy, he loved my southern fried chicken.”

  Relieved, Anne Marie exhaled slowly. Tim’s parents were good people and it was clear that they loved Ellen already. Thomas stepped forward and thrust out his hand. “I’m Tim’s dad, and you’re Ellen’s adoptive mother?”

  She accepted it and returned his smile. “Anne Marie Roche.”

  “We appreciate your allowing us into Ellen’s life.”

  It hadn’t been an easy decision, but Anne Marie didn’t tell him that.

  “Ellen seems to be doing just fine, don’t you think?” Vanessa said sharply. This was her way of telling Anne Marie that her job was done and it was time to move along now.

  Taking her cue, she started to back away. “I’ll leave you all to become better acquainted. When would you like me to come for Ellen?” she asked.

  Tim narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going, are you?”

  “Please join us for dinner,” Thomas said. “We’d like to get to know you, too, seeing that you’re the one raising our granddaughter.”

  “Yes, well…” Anne Marie turned to Vanessa, unsure how to respond. She wanted the other woman to understand that she knew her place and had no intention of encroaching on her relationship with Tim.

  “Thomas,” Mary called from the kitchen. “I need you and Tim to move the picnic table out of the sun.”

  The two men promptly left and Anne Marie found herself alone with Vanessa, wondering what, if anything, she should say.

  Vanessa released a long breath. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Pardon?” Anne Marie felt awkward standing in the middle of the room, yet wasn’t relaxed enough to sit.

  “Just now,” Vanessa elaborated. “When you first arrived. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  “Oh, that,” Anne Marie said, pretending to have forgotten the complete lack of welcome. “Trust me, I understand. You’re in a difficult situation. We both are. The only thing we can do is deal with it, right?”

  Vanessa didn’t seem persuaded. “I guess, but it’s kind of hard.”

  “Yes, it is,” Anne Marie said. “Listen, I’ll stay a little longer, then make my excuses and leave. You and Tim can bring Ellen home later, or if it’s easier I can come back and pick her up. Whichever suits you best.”

  Vanessa nodded. “I’ll ask Tim.”

  “We can make this work,” Anne Marie told her, “but we need to keep the lines of communication open. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

  “Why should I?” Vanessa said aggressively. “Tim and I are going to be married.”

  “You shouldn’t be uncomfortable,” Anne Marie agreed. “And by the same token, I want Ellen to feel at ease with you.”

  “She already does.” Vanessa scowled, as though she expected Anne Marie to dispute that statement.

  “I appreciate how readily you’ve accepted Ellen.” Anne Marie wasn’t convinced that was true, but didn’t want to challenge the other woman.

  Vanessa gave the same exasperated sigh she had earlier. “You have no idea how difficult it is, sharing Tim with this child. What’ll happen when we have our own children?”

  Anne Marie didn’t have an answer for her. “The two of you will figure that out when the time comes,” she said. It was the best she could do.

  “Right,” Vanessa mumbled. “We will.”

  The two men returned, and Tim immediately went to Vanessa’s side.

  Rather than feel like an outsider, Anne Marie made her way to the kitchen, where Mary and Ellen were chatting amicably.

  “Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

  “Thanks, but I have everything under control. We’ll be eating in a few minutes.”

  Ellen sat on a bar stool at the counter. “Look, Mom,” she said excitedly. “Grandma Mary has a crooked little finger, the same as me.” She held her two little fingers together and displayed how they veered off, forming the shape of a V.

  “My father once told me they’re a sign of high intelligence,” Mary said.

  “Does Dad have those, too?”

  “He does.” Mary sent Ellen a smile. She took the chicken from the oven and arranged the pieces on a large platter.

  “I can carry that outside if you’d like,” Anne Marie volunteered. She wished now that she’d declined the dinner invitation. It was too awkward for both her and Vanessa.

  “Thanks. Ellen, why don’t you tell everyone dinner’s ready,” Mary suggested.

  “Okay, but can I show Grandpa something first?”

  “Sure,” Mary said.

  Ellen dashed into the living room while Anne Marie carried the platter of fried chicken outside and set it on the table. She’d just come back into the house when she heard Ellen scream.

  Anne Marie froze. She’d never heard her daughter scream like that. It was a cry of intense pain. In her rush to find Ellen, she nearly stumbled. Heart-wrenching sobs came from the garage.

  Anne Marie saw Ellen on the cement floor with Tim bending over her. Thomas stood in the background, his face pale.

  “What happened?” she cried, falling to her knees beside Ellen. The girl cradled her arm against her side and was in such pain she seemed to have trouble breathing. Sobs racked her thin body and she shook uncontrollably.

  “She fell off the motorcycle,” Tim said. “It was so fast I couldn’t reach her in time to catch her.” He was pale and shaken, too. “I think she broke her arm.”

  Anne Marie brought Ellen carefully into her embrace. “Call 9-1-1,” she shouted.

  Tim rushed into the other room.

  Anne Marie didn’t have a lot of medical experience, but it seemed to her that Ellen was going into shock. That was when she lost it, too. “What’s taking so long?” she yelled, fighting to hold back the panic.

  Thomas rushed into the house and returned with a blanket, which he wrapped around Ellen’s shoulders. Ellen’s sobs tore at Anne Marie’s heart and soon her own face was streaked with tears. She rocked Ellen, whispering words of comfort and reassurance as they waited for the paramedics.

  An eternity passed before she finally heard the siren. As soon as the medical personnel arrived, they took over, and within minutes Ellen was loaded into the aid car. Anne Marie rode with her; Tim followed in his vehicle.

  Thankfully the emergency room wasn’t crowded. Ellen was given something to relieve the pain, then sent to have an X-ray of her arm.

  The second her daughter had been wheeled out, Anne Marie whirled on Tim. “How could you let this happen?” she cried.

  He shook his head hopelessly. “It was all so fast…” he said again.

  Covering her face with both hands, she fought for composure. There was no point in blaming Tim
; Ellen could just as easily have fallen at home with Anne Marie.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He slid his arm around her shoulders. “So am I,” he said, pressing his head to hers. “I knew the instant she landed that she’d broken a bone.”

  At just that moment Vanessa walked into the cubicle. When she saw Tim with his arm around Anne Marie and their heads together, she exploded. “I knew it! I knew it! The minute I’m out of the picture you go after Tim…. So much for all that crap about not being interested in him. You’ve been after Tim from the day you met.”

  Anne Marie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She blinked in confusion. “What?” she asked.

  “You want Tim.”

  “Vanessa!” he warned. “Stop it.”

  “I won’t stop. Do you think I’m blind?” she demanded. “I saw how the two of you were looking at each other.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  A nurse stepped into the cubicle. “You need to keep your voices down,” she said. “If there’s a problem here, I advise you to take it outside.”

  Reluctantly Tim stood up. “Come on,” he said to Vanessa. “Let’s talk about this without half the hospital listening in.”

  They left and Anne Marie relaxed a little. She’d had enough of Vanessa’s hysterics for one day. Brushing her disheveled hair out of her face, she closed her eyes and wondered if she’d made a big mistake letting Tim into their lives. Just then, it seemed she had.

  Before she could brood any more on the situation, the technician was back with Ellen and a copy of the X-ray. “Looks like you’re going to get a cast,” he said to Ellen.

  Her daughter’s face was dry of tears now but her eyes were wide and curious. “Can I have a pink one?”

  “I’ll see what Dr. Sawyer has to say about that.”

  It took another hour before the arm was set and the cast in place. Ellen looked admiringly down at her arm, which was encased in a hot-pink cast, and smiled up at Anne Marie. “It still hurts really bad.”

  “I know it does, sweetheart.”

  Ellen scooted out of the chair. “Where’s Dad?”

  “With Vanessa.”

  Ellen said nothing, just stared at the floor.

  The assistant brought in paperwork for Anne Marie to sign. Once she did, they were free to go. Tim sat out in the waiting area and stood up when they appeared.

  Ellen showed no delight at seeing him.

  Tim knelt in front of her. “How’s my girl?” he asked.

  “Okay. I have a cast.”

  “So I see.”

  “If you’d take me back to my car, I’d appreciate it,” Anne Marie said wearily.

  “Of course. My dad lent me his. All I had at the house was the Harley.”

  Anne Marie didn’t care who the car belonged to as long as she got where she needed to go. On the drive back to the family home, she didn’t inquire about Vanessa. Frankly, she didn’t care where the other woman was; she was just grateful not to be dealing with her anymore.

  Anne Marie sat in the backseat with Ellen and got out as soon as he’d parked. All she wanted to do was escape, to get her daughter home.

  “Apologize to your parents for me,” she said, unfastening Ellen’s seat belt. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  Hands in his pockets, Tim stood helplessly by as Anne Marie led Ellen to her car. “If there’s anything I can do…” he offered.

  “There isn’t,” she said stiffly.

  “Can I phone you later and see how Ellen’s doing?”

  She didn’t mean to be rude but she couldn’t face him again that night. “I’d rather you didn’t. Tomorrow would be fine.”

  “Okay.” He accepted that without argument. “Remember to call if there’s anything I can do.”

  She nodded, but as far as Anne Marie was concerned Tim had done quite enough.

  CHAPTER 33

  Alix Turner

  “Alix, we need to talk.”

  Alix tensed. She recognized her employer’s tone of voice and it was ominous. Alix had already had a heart-to-heart with Winter Adams, owner of the French Café, a few days earlier.

  Alix had made a costly mistake this morning, her second that week. In both instances the entire batch of dough had to be dumped, wasting the ingredients and the time. Alix knew she was in the wrong, and she knew the mistakes had occurred because she was so agitated, mentally and physically.

  Although she’d gone several days without a cigarette, her body still screamed for nicotine. It was supposed to get easier, but it hadn’t. She knew why, too, but that didn’t help.

  “Are you going to fire me?” Alix demanded. She stepped into the office and held herself rigid, expecting the worst. It was what she deserved. If having to toss two different batches wasn’t bad enough, Alix had been irritable all week. She was afraid her employer had grown tired of her short temper, and what had happened this morning was the final straw. Winter obviously intended to let her go.

  She looked at Alix and sighed loudly. “It’s not what I want to do. If you recall, I asked you to take over as manager next week when I’m on vacation.”

  “But you’re doing it anyway, right?” Alix didn’t know why she felt the need to ask. Losing her job now would be disastrous. She and Jordan were living at the lake house, so with saving for a place of their own, increased transportation costs and much higher utilities, their budget was stretched to the limit. She’d had to give up cigarettes out of necessity as much as desire. She simply couldn’t afford to smoke.

  “No,” Winter returned thoughtfully. “You’ve been a wonderful employee until just recently. I’m hoping you can resolve whatever’s bothering you.” She looked directly at Alix. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  Alix swallowed hard and nodded. It was easy to blame her bad mood on her need for a smoke; however, the reason was more than her craving for nicotine.

  The cigarettes were a convenient excuse, but the underlying problem was her fear of motherhood. She yearned for a child; at the same time the prospect still terrified her. Jordan did his best to reassure her but Alix couldn’t help worrying about her abilities as a mother. Her husband was willing to take the risk, willing to believe they’d be good parents. Alix was the one who doubted.

  “I’ll work on a better attitude,” Alix promised as she left the office.

  “Giving up smoking isn’t easy,” Winter said sympathetically. “It causes mood swings and concentration problems—but with you I sense it’s more than that.”

  “It is,” Alix agreed.

  “Do you need some time to clear your head?” Winter asked.

  “Could I have an hour?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Removing her apron, Alix decided she’d take a walk. She set out for the small park close to Blossom Street, her strides brisk, her thoughts no less so.

  The day was overcast, dark skies threatening rain, but the weather suited her mood. The play section of the park was deserted. Alix sat on a swing and placed both hands on the chain, gently swaying back and forth.

  “Hi.”

  Alix glanced up to see Casey Marshall standing off to one side, looking morose. They’d talked a couple of times and understood each other, since they shared a similar background, with all the insecurities it engendered.

  “Hey, what’s got you down?” Alix asked, putting aside her own troubles.

  “I came to say goodbye.”

  “Goodbye?”

  “I’m going to my new foster home next week.”

  “So soon?”

  Casey bit her lip. “It’s a good place. Evelyn told me. The best, she said.”

  “I hated moving, too,” Alix told her. She remembered stuffing everything she possessed in a small suitcase, leaving behind friends, pets and life as she’d known it for those months or years. Settling in with a new family was always difficult. She’d hated starting over.

  “It’s just that…” Casey left the rest unsaid. She sat in the s
wing next to Alix and kicked at the ground with the toe of her tennis shoes.

  Alix didn’t need her to finish the thought. “It’s hard to leave Lydia and Brad, isn’t it?”

  Casey nodded. “They…they’re great. I know I sort of got pushed on them,” she murmured. “They want to adopt a baby… Everyone does, right?”

  “Right.” Alix couldn’t argue with the facts. Infants were quickly adopted and older children were often shuffled from home to home, family to family, never having the opportunity to put down roots in any one community.

  “When I first came to them, I…I didn’t want to be there. It was only supposed to be a couple of days. Lydia and Brad opened their home to me and…and their hearts, too. I didn’t want to like them, but I did. I do.” Sadness seemed to emanate from her as she stared down at the ground.

  “I know.” And Alix did. In the beginning she’d tried to blend in with her foster families, too, trying to prove she could be one of them, that she was worthy of love.

  “It didn’t work,” Casey continued. “Everything I did was a disaster.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” Alix was well aware of how hard Lydia had tried to make Casey feel welcome and part of their family.

  “It is!” Casey cried. “Last night I tried to surprise Lydia and make dinner and then the casserole boiled over and smoke was pouring out of the oven and the fire alarm started beeping and dinner was ruined.” She said this in one giant breath.

  “Did Brad or Lydia get upset?”

  Casey shook her head. “Brad made a big joke of it. He said the fire alarm should be called the dinner bell.”

  Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Alix smiled.

  “And Cody thought it was cool ’cause we had to order pizza.”

  “And Lydia?”

  Casey glanced away. “Lydia…put her arm around me and said I shouldn’t worry about it. Then she showed me where she keeps the bigger casserole dish so if I wanted to try again I’d know which one to use.”

  “So no one was upset with you.”

  Casey jerked her head up. “I was upset with me,” she countered. “This was my way of thanking them and the whole dinner backfired.”