Back on Blossom Street

by Debbie Macomber

  I hoped he was right.

  Matt opened the screen door for us even before we made it to the top step. He’s a big man, tall and thick-waisted now that he’d reached middle age. I remember when my sister first started dating him in high school. I’d been half in love with him myself. My sister had chosen well; I liked and admired Matt.

  “This is a nice surprise,” Matt said, leading us into the house. He kissed me on the cheek, and he and Brad exchanged handshakes.

  Margaret stepped out of the kitchen, a dish towel tossed carelessly over one shoulder. She looked instantly suspicious. “What’s this about?” she asked.

  “Sit down.” My brother-in-law gestured toward the sofa, ignoring Margaret’s lack of welcome. He turned off the television and, with his usual hospitality, offered us a drink.

  We declined. Brad and I sat close to each other on the sofa. I folded my hands over my knees and waited for my husband to speak.

  “I hope you’ll excuse our coming without any advance warning,” he began.

  “Of course,” Matt said, glancing toward Margaret. “You’re welcome anytime.”

  Reluctantly, my sister sat down on the oversize chair beside Matt’s recliner. A wicker basket next to the chair was filled with her knitting. I recognized the pattern; it was the prayer shawl the class had knit together. Everyone, even Colette, had finished by now. Everyone except Margaret.

  “Lydia told me something this evening that worries her, and it involves you,” Brad said. “I’ll let her explain.”

  Both Matt and Margaret turned their attention to me. I looked at Brad, wanting him to do it. But apparently it was up to me. I leaned toward my sister, silently pleading for her forgiveness.

  “Alix came to me the other day,” I said after an awkward moment.

  As soon as I mentioned Alix’s name, Margaret crossed her arms and averted her eyes.

  “You know what she told me, don’t you?” I asked softly.

  Matt looked over at his wife, who remained stubbornly silent, her lips pursed, her eyes flashing lightning bolts at me.

  This was exactly what I’d feared. “Do you think I care what happens to Danny Chesterfield?” I blurted out, which I’m sure confused my brother-in-law even more.

  “What’s that creep got to do with anything?” Matt demanded of his wife.

  Margaret ignored him and continued to hold my gaze.

  “Don’t you realize you’re putting your entire family at risk?” I cried. “You could end up in prison!”

  Matt stormed to his feet. “Would someone tell me what the hell’s going on here?”

  Brad stood, too. “Margaret’s trying to hire a hit man to injure Danny Chesterfield.”

  The room went completely still as Matt digested those words. Then, as if the weight of this was more than he could carry, he sank into his chair, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  Margaret had yet to utter a single word.

  Finally, Matt straightened and turned to his wife. “What are you thinking?” he asked, his voice weary and discouraged. There was no anger in his question, only pain and confusion. “Why can’t you let this go?”

  For the first time since I’d started speaking, Margaret’s gaze left mine. “I refuse to rest while that man walks around free to hurt someone else’s daughter. Since our justice system has seen fit to release him, I don’t have any choice but to take matters in my own hands.”

  “Have you hired someone?” Matt asked, raising his voice, something I was sure he rarely did.

  “No.”

  “Tell me the truth.”

  “I haven’t,” Margaret snapped. “Alix wouldn’t help and I didn’t know anyone else to ask.”

  “Did you plan to stop there?” Matt pressed.

  Her brief hesitation was followed by a muffled response. It sounded like “no.”

  This didn’t surprise me. When Margaret wants something done, she finds a way to make it happen.

  Shocking us all, Julia stepped out of the hallway. “Mom! What have you done?”

  I’d hardly seen Julia since the attack and noticed the changes in her right away. She’d lost weight and cut her long blond hair. While the physical injuries had healed, I knew she still struggled with the emotional damage.

  Margaret responded defensively, a typical reaction when she was caught. “Were you eavesdropping?”

  “Yes.” Julia didn’t bother to deny it. “I couldn’t help it. I heard Aunt Lydia and Brad stop by and I was coming to say hello when I heard what you’d done.”

  “This doesn’t concern you,” Margaret said resolutely.

  Julia almost laughed. “How can you say that? I’m the one who was attacked. I’m the one who was dragged out of that car and thrown down on the road.” She paused to glare at her parents. “I watched cars all around me slam on their brakes. They were trying to avoid running over me. That’s what I dream about, being unable to move, paralyzed with fear on the street. The cars are all racing toward me, and they can’t stop in time.”

  “Oh, baby.” Matt stood and put his arms around his daughter.

  Julia stifled a sob. “Mom, I can’t deal with your anger anymore,” she cried. “It wasn’t you who went through this. It was me.”

  “I can’t stand to see you hurt,” Margaret said, pleading her case. “I hate the man who did this to you.”

  “You hate him enough to destroy all our lives?” Julia spun away from her father, hands tightened into fists at her sides. “Your anger isn’t helping me, Mom. Don’t you see that? It’s hurting me. Each and every day I have to deal with my own pain and yours and Dad’s, too. It can’t go on…it can’t.” She covered her face with both hands and broke into heart-wrenching sobs.

  Unable to bear seeing my niece weep like that, I joined her parents, putting my arms around the three of them. When we finally broke apart, Julia sat on the ottoman next to her mother. She reached for Margaret’s hand and clasped it in her own.

  “It’s time we talked,” Julia said, sounding more adult than any of us.

  “I made a mistake,” Margaret admitted in a voice that was barely audible.

  “No,” Julia said and shook her head dramatically. “I’m glad you did this, Mom, because it’s brought everything to a head. That’s what had to happen and so far it just hasn’t. Everyone’s so afraid of talking about the…accident and I need that. You and Dad need it, too. We all do,” she said, looking toward the hallway.

  Hailey came out from the shadows, her sweet face streaked with tears. Slowly she walked into the room and sat on the sofa with Brad and me. I drew her close and she leaned against me.

  “Everyone’s so angry,” Julia continued. “We all pretend there’s nothing wrong, but there is. We can’t go on ignoring the fact that I was attacked. I could easily have been killed—but I wasn’t.”

  “I thank God you survived,” Margaret whispered.

  Matt nodded.

  “Afterward I didn’t feel like I wanted to live, and you and Dad got me help. The counselor and I talked a lot. I learned that the feelings I had aren’t uncommon. The counselor said lots of victims feel like I did.” She took a deep breath. “I’m getting better now, and I’ve learned so much. I want everyone to know that.”

  Tears spilled down Margaret’s cheeks.

  “Mom,” Julia said, looking up at her mother. “I was angry, too, so angry I actually wanted to die. I hated Danny Chesterfield the same way you do, but I’ve seen what that anger’s done to you. I’ve seen what it’s done to me.”

  Margaret nodded, wiping her face with one sleeve.

  “Anger takes too much energy, too much effort,” Julia said.

  I wondered when my niece had got so smart and realized this wisdom was a by-product of her pain.

  “After I was released from the hospital, I was obsessed with hurting him back. Thinking of ways to make him suffer was how I got through those first few weeks. I’d go to sleep at night and dream about throwing him into moving traffic and watching
him scramble for his life like I did. I’d dream about standing there, watching him cry for help and then walking away and listening to his screams when he was hit by a car.”

  My sister bowed her head and instinctively I recognized that her daughter’s words had struck a deep chord in Margaret.

  “Then one day I was with some friends,” Julia said, her voice dropping. “They asked me to do Relay for Life.”

  She smiled at me and I nodded, remembering the wonderful time we’d had together.

  “My friends were raising money to save lives,” Julia went on, “and while they were making a positive difference, I was plotting, dreaming, thinking about vengeance.” She lowered her eyes as though ashamed. “I understood then that I didn’t like the person I was becoming.”

  Tears filled my eyes and I tried to hide how intensely Julia’s words had affected me. I saw that everyone else was equally touched. Julia’s wisdom moved me, impressed me, and again I understood that this wisdom had come at a terrible price.

  “Mom.” Julia brought her mother’s hand close to her own heart. “I probably won’t ever be the same person I was before the carjacking and in some ways, that’s good. But the one I’m worried about now is you.”

  Margaret lowered her head, unable to look her daughter in the eye.

  “I need you to let go of your anger because I’m afraid I might never completely heal if you don’t. Can you do that, Mom? Can you do it for me?”

  Slowly Margaret raised her head. “I can try,” she whispered.

  “That’s all I ask,” Julia said.

  Mom and daughter hugged.

  Hailey excused herself and briefly left the room, returning with a box of tissues, which we all needed. Soon we were laughing and crying at the same time. That’s how it is sometimes. The laughter can be as healing as tears.

  Brad and I went home soon afterward and Margaret walked us to the door.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. It came as a surprise when she hugged me. Before she stepped back, she said close to my ear, “I’m going to be all right now.”

  I knew it was true. We all would.

  CHAPTER 36

  Alix Townsend

  The morning of June second, Alix woke up and remembered that this was her wedding day. She felt a sense of profound joy—but it was a joy mingled with sheer terror. Standing up in front of all those people, even though there’d be far fewer than the number originally invited, terrified her. But despite her fears, she wanted to do this, more than anything in her life. She loved Jordan and knew he loved her, but she wasn’t unrealistic about marriage; love didn’t mean there wouldn’t be conflicts and problems. The difference was that if you loved each other, the way she and Jordan did, you could resolve those conflicts and find solutions to the problems.

  Alix was too nervous and excited to have breakfast. At nine, Tammie Lee drove her to Grandma Turner’s house, which was already stirring with activity.

  Reese and Jacqueline had canceled the orchestra they’d hired for the country club reception; with Alix and Jordan’s permission, they’d arranged for a five-piece band instead. The sound system people were getting everything set up.

  The tent was raised, and the folding chairs stood inside in neat rows. Jacqueline had insisted on white wooden chairs with padded seats at a cost Alix didn’t even want to think about. The caterers had arrived and were preparing the food. The French Café had delivered the wedding cake, a traditional cake Alix had baked and decorated herself. As a surprise for Jacqueline, she’d used a sweetened cream cheese frosting.

  Susannah and Colette were there, too, working on the flower arrangements. They were filling large baskets with white roses, yellow daisies and sprigs of fern. Smaller bouquets of the same flowers were attached at the end of every row. The effect was simple, springlike and elegant.

  The minute Alix caught sight of Colette, she flew across the grounds. “I can’t believe you’re here,” Alix murmured, throwing both arms around her. The last Alix had heard, Christian still hadn’t been located. Colette had kept a vigil with Christian’s aunt since his disappearance became known, and Alix hadn’t expected her to come to the wedding.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Colette assured her, hugging her back.

  “Christian?” Alix whispered.

  Colette shook her head. “Nothing new.” She looked tired but seemed to have found some measure of peace.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Alix said. “It means a lot to me.”

  Colette smiled at her. “Oh, Alix, you’re going to be a beautiful bride.”

  “I’m about to be married.” Alix giggled with happiness and headed toward the house, where Jacqueline and Reese were waiting for her. Family drifted in and out; someone had brought a large coffee urn and Jordan’s relatives came in to help themselves to cups of coffee. Someone mentioned that Grandma Turner had decided to rest for a while. Alix didn’t want to disturb her.

  “The hairdresser’s here,” Jacqueline announced, ushering Alix into the house.

  Alix glanced at her warily.

  “Don’t worry.” Jacqueline must have read the look in her eyes. “It’s not Desiree.” Early in their friendship, Jacqueline had taken her to an expensive hairstylist named Desiree; this was the famous makeover disaster they still laughed about. “Desiree said I couldn’t pay her enough to work on your hair again.”

  Alix grinned. Desiree wouldn’t want to hear what she thought of her, either. “Just as long as I have final approval.” She wasn’t about to go through her wedding looking like one of the boys from that 1970s TV series, The Brady Bunch.

  Jacqueline nodded and led her to the bathroom. In short order her hair was washed and blow-dried, curled and sprayed. Alix stared at her reflection and decided she rather liked this more mature version of herself.

  “Is Grandma Turner still resting?” she asked. Any number of people had been in and out of the house all morning.

  No one seemed to know. Her bedroom door remained shut. Alix had brought over her wedding dress earlier in the week and Grandma had insisted on hanging it on the back of her door.

  Still in her housecoat and slippers, Alix approached the bedroom. Her knock went unanswered. If Grandma Turner was sleeping, it was time to wake her. The photographer would be there soon and Alix wanted Grandma in the pictures.

  After knocking a second time, Alix quietly opened the door, to see Jordan’s grandmother sitting in the rocking chair by her bed, her Bible in her lap. The shawl Alix had knit was draped around her shoulders. It looked as if the old woman had been reading her Bible and fallen asleep.

  “Grandma,” Alix whispered, trying not to startle her.

  Sarah Turner didn’t respond.

  Kneeling in front of her, Alix reached for Sarah’s hand and swallowed hard when she discovered the fingers were stone-cold.

  Alix knew that Grandma wasn’t asleep.

  She was dead.

  She’d died that morning, reading her Bible and wearing her prayer shawl.

  Sobs filled Alix’s chest and she laid her face against Grandma’s lap as she struggled for composure. When she could breathe evenly again, she lifted her face, gently touched the old woman’s cheek and rose to her feet.

  Alix stepped quietly out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. The first person she saw was Jacqueline.

  “Please find Jordan for me,” she whispered brokenly.

  “What’s the matter?” Jacqueline asked.

  “Just get Jordan. Please.”

  Jacqueline started to tell her it was bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding, but Alix’s expression obviously stopped her. “I saw him a little while ago. I’ll look around.”

  She left, returning with him a few minutes later. Jordan frowned when he saw Alix still wearing her housecoat and slippers. He was in his tuxedo. “Is something wrong?”

  Alix nodded and took his hand. Together they entered his grandmother’s bedroom. Jordan knew instantly.

  “I think s
he’s been dead a couple of hours,” Alix told him. Her voice faltered, and when she could speak again, she asked in a hoarse whisper, “What should we do?”

  Jordan sat on the edge of his grandmother’s bed and lowered his head as the realization hit him. “My grandmother loved you, Alix. I don’t know why the Lord chose to take her home this morning, but He did. Everyone’s here. It seems to me that this was exactly what Grandma was waiting for—to see us happy and to have all her family around her. We’re getting married today. Grandma would want us to. Her love is here.”

  Jordan stood and wrapped his arms around Alix, then briefly buried his face in her shoulder. “I’ll tell my parents.”

  While Jordan went in search of his family, Alix removed her wedding dress from his grandmother’s door and slipped into it. She went out into the kitchen, beckoning to Jacqueline and Tammie Lee. They found a private corner, and while she explained the circumstances, Tammie Lee fastened the buttons in the back of Alix’s dress.

  Larry and Susan Turner rushed into the house and Jordan brought them to the bedroom, where Alix joined them a few minutes later. Jordan’s mother had dissolved into tears.

  Jordan placed his hand on his father’s shoulder as Larry slumped on the bed.

  “What about the wedding?” Susan jerked up her head. “We can’t cancel it at the last second like this. We’ve already canceled it once and—”

  “Mom, it’s all right. Alix and I have decided to go through with the ceremony.”

  His mother sniffled loudly and nodded.

  “She went so peacefully,” Larry whispered. He looked down at his mother, her Bible open on her lap, and a fleeting smile touched his lips. “When my time comes, I want to leave this earth just the way she did.”

  “Oh, Larry,” Susan cried. “How can you say that? You’d think your mother could have timed it better, wouldn’t you?”

  “We don’t make those decisions, Susan,” her husband reminded her. “It was God’s timing.”

  “I don’t care whose timing it was, it was bad.”

  Larry simply shook his head.