Read Back on Blossom Street Online
Authors: Debbie Macomber
Last year, when Matt lost his job, she’d done everything possible to hide the fact that her family was about
to lose their home. I’d been able to help them financially and was happy to do so, but Margaret—although certainly grateful—had difficulty accepting my gift.
“You’re very quiet all of a sudden,” Brad said as he exited the freeway. A few minutes later, we were driving into our neighborhood.
“I was just thinking about Margaret,” I told him with a sigh.
“Anything you want to discuss?” he asked.
I thought about it, then shook my head. “How about you? Anything
you
want to talk about?” I asked as we waited for the garage door to open.
“As a matter of fact, there is,” Brad said. Cody dashed across the street—after carefully looking both ways, just like we’d taught him. One of our neighbors, a stay-at-home mother, babysat our son for an hour every afternoon after school.
Cody collected the mail, handing it to Brad as we entered the house. Chase bounded frantically around us, and Cody let him out, into our fenced backyard.
“You had something you wanted to discuss?” I reminded Brad.
He lifted his head from the mail he was sorting. “You bet I did. What’s for dinner?” he asked with a grin. “I didn’t have time for lunch and your husband’s one hungry guy.”
Alix Townsend
S
aturday was one of those hectic days that sometimes overwhelmed Alix. She’d been with Jacqueline and Tammie Lee all morning, and by noon she was exhausted, although she still had a list of errands to run. Jordan would be away the entire day, taking the church youth group somewhere in eastern Washington to hear a Christian rock band. He wouldn’t return until much later in the evening. Normally she accompanied him, but this time she’d begged off.
She’d picked up some dry cleaning for Jacqueline, bought herself toothpaste and shampoo, and dropped off her library books. Since she’d always been a voracious reader, she spent an hour at the library, checking out a couple of new mysteries, a historical novel set in the Puget Sound area and a travel book about Australia. With clenched teeth she added a wedding guide to the pile.
Anne Marie from Blossom Street Books was still hosting the reading club she’d started earlier in the month. The book for April was the latest thriller by Brad Metzler.
Colette, who’d also joined, had already finished it and offered to lend Alix her copy.
It was now midafternoon and she had yet to have lunch, so Alix decided to eat at the French Café, where she got an employee discount. By the time she arrived, most of the lunch crowd had left. She walked up to the counter, chatted with Julie for a minute, then ordered her favorite turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee.
As she surveyed the room, Alix caught sight of Colette Blake near the back of the café. Colette had brought her knitting and seemed intent on that. Alix debated whether she should say hello. During their knitting classes, Colette said very little. She seemed sad and vaguely troubled, although she was never rude or unfriendly. Alix hadn’t really had much of a chance to know her; they’d sort of gotten off on the wrong foot and Alix blamed herself for that.
As she approached an empty table, Colette glanced up, saw her and smiled.
“Mind if I join you?” Alix asked impulsively.
“Please do.” Colette put her knitting down with a sigh of abject frustration. “Tell me again that this is supposed to be relaxing.”
“It will be, in time,” Alix promised, sitting across the table from her. “Be patient with yourself. I lost count of how often I started my first project over. There were days I wanted to chuck the whole thing.”
“But you stuck with it,” Colette murmured.
“And I’m glad I did.” Knitting had proved to be a turning point in her life. Back then, she’d had something to prove to herself. Refusing to quit had given Alix confidence in other areas, too. “It didn’t come easy to me, either. I thought that was because I’m left-handed but Lydia kept telling me knitters use both hands, so that
wasn’t any excuse. She said it often enough, I finally believed her. After a while, I got the hang of it. I finished the baby blanket and even knit Jordan a sweater. Okay, so the neckline turned out a bit sloppy, but he still wears it.” Alix smiled, thinking of her fiancé in that sweater. Now
there
was a real testament to Jordan’s love. Alix had wanted to rip the whole thing out and start over, but he wouldn’t let her. The yarn was ultraexpensive, too. Alix could never have afforded it on her own. Carol Girard from the class had given it to her. She’d refused any compensation for it, too. That kind of generosity had been a novel experience for Alix, and she’d never forgotten it.
“I’m not giving up, either,” Colette said with what sounded like renewed determination.
After swallowing a mouthful of her coffee, Alix continued. “I found that if I had something on my mind, it helped to sit down and knit. If I could free my mind for even a few minutes, I could sometimes settle whatever was bothering me.”
“Oh.” Colette’s shoulders slumped forward. “Knitting’s not really helping,” she said, staring down at her needles. “I might as well put it aside until after tomorrow. If I have to rip out this row again, I’m afraid the yarn will be completely frayed.”
Alix studied Colette and saw the lines creasing her forehead. She’d picked up her cup of tea and nervously clutched the delicate handle. Alix was afraid it might snap off in Colette’s hand.
“What’s happening on Sunday?” Alix asked. She didn’t mean to pry, but perhaps if Colette talked about her problem, whatever it was, she’d feel better. Alix was a good listener. Jordan had taught her the importance of sharing one’s troubles—and listening to those of others. Like Colette, she used to hold everything inside until it
felt like she’d explode if she didn’t do something to get rid of all those ugly emotions.
Perhaps surprisingly, Alix had also learned a few things from the pastor of the church that employed Jordan, the church she now attended. Pastor Downey used lots of homespun analogies and practical advice about living in the real world. Just last Sunday, he’d said that the grass wasn’t greener on the other side of the fence; it was greener where it was watered. Alix liked that so much, she wrote it down on the inside flap of her Bible. She considered it good advice for a woman about to be married. It was advice she wanted to remember.
“I…I’m going out to dinner with my former employer,” Colette explained haltingly.
“Is this your first date since you lost your husband?”
Colette shrugged and looked uneasy. “Sort of.”
Alix wasn’t sure what that meant but didn’t press for an explanation.
“It’s more a matter of
who
this date’s with that’s bothering me.”
Alix nodded, encouraging her to continue.
“I agreed to go and now I wish I hadn’t.” Colette stared out the window for a moment. Alix let the silence build. She’d learned from Jordan not to be afraid of the silences in a conversation.
She thought Colette was about to speak when Julie, who worked weekends, delivered Alix’s sandwich. Alix waited until Julie was out of earshot. She wondered why Colette would have agreed to this date when she was so clearly reluctant.
“Can’t you just cancel?” Alix asked. Problem solved. As far as she could see, there was no reason for Colette to be so worried about this. If she didn’t want to go out
with the guy, she didn’t have to. Women changed their minds all the time. Men, too, for that matter.
“It’s just that…I don’t know what to expect from him.”
“Why put yourself in this situation at all?” It didn’t make sense to Alix.
Colette broke eye contact, lowering her head. “Christian said if I went to dinner with him this one time, he’d never bother me again.” She spoke in a low, uninflected voice.
Alix was outraged. “That’s blackmail!”
“I suppose it is.”
“Suppose, nothing! You can’t let a man manipulate you like that.” Alix was getting worked up now. No way was a man taking advantage of Colette, not if
she
could help it. “You want me to deal with this loser?”
Colette smiled for the first time. “Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine.”
“How well do you know him?”
“I worked for the company for seven years, five of those as his personal assistant.”
Alix frowned, a little confused by the inconsistency of Colette’s reactions. “Is he the reason you left?”
Colette hesitated. “In a manner of speaking, yes, but it’s…more complicated than that.”
Alix wanted to say that
life
was complicated. She merely nodded, murmuring, “I understand,” although she didn’t really.
“I’ll go out with him because there’s something we should discuss… I’m just not sure I have the courage to do it.”
“Would you like to discuss it with someone else beforehand?” she asked. If Colette needed a willing ear, Alix was happy to provide it.
Colette considered her offer for a long time before she replied. “I appreciate it, but no…” Her expression was
sad, regretful, as if she badly needed a confidante but didn’t feel ready to trust anyone just yet.
“So you haven’t really dated since Derek died.” Alix didn’t know what else to say.
Colette shook her head. “I ran into a friend of his recently. He phoned a couple of times this past week and we’ve talked about getting together. Between his schedule and mine, it’s difficult, though.”
“By the way, I want to tell you again how sorry I am about your husband.” Alix was afraid she might’ve been somewhat insensitive during their conversation last Wednesday, the way she’d been going on about how she couldn’t bear the thought of losing Jordan when this woman’s
husband
had died. “It’s so tragic, and—”
“Don’t say that!” Colette’s mouth thinned and she bit her lower lip as if struggling not to cry.
Alix was completely confused now. “Why not? It’s what people say when there’s a death in the family.”
“I know….” She grabbed her purse and scrabbled for a tissue, eventually finding one and dabbing her eyes with it. “It’s hard to explain.”
Alix remained silent.
“I…I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Colette said, digging into her purse for a fresh tissue.
“Listen, it’s all right,” Alix said. “Whatever you tell me goes no further. One thing I can do is keep my trap shut. That’s a lesson I learned years ago.”
“Okay.” Colette gave her a watery smile. “I loved my husband and he was a good man. We were having fertility problems, and those problems affected our marriage. I wanted to see a specialist and Derek didn’t. He said he wanted children, but if it didn’t happen naturally, he was fine with letting it go. I wasn’t.” She paused and blew her nose. “The morning Derek fell from the roof, we’d had a
huge argument. He should never have gotten on that roof. He probably wouldn’t have if we hadn’t been fighting.”
“So now you feel responsible for what happened.” Guilt manifested itself in so many different ways. Alix had dealt with it often enough to know the tricks it could play.
“I do and I don’t. I begged him to call a roofing company. Derek wouldn’t hear of it. I hoped that if he cooled off and thought everything over, he’d see my point about fertility treatments, so I didn’t try very hard to stop him from doing the repair work himself.” She shrugged in a dispirited way. “He had all these new tools he really wanted to use, too. Some of them were Christmas gifts from me….”
“You couldn’t have known what would happen,” Alix said in a reasonable tone.
Colette nodded. “That’s true. But we had this…this issue between us. I wanted a family and Derek said he did, yet he wasn’t willing to take the next step to make children a possibility. I’m over thirty and I didn’t want to put it off any longer.”
“That’s understandable.”
Colette nodded again. “What I told everyone at our last knitting class is a lie.”
Alix tried to remember what Colette had said and couldn’t recall.
“My marriage wasn’t good anymore, even though I said it was. In fact, I was miserable and I suspect Derek was, too.”
“I’m sure you would’ve worked things out,” Alix said and reached for her sandwich, taking the first bite.
“I think we would have, too. Like I said, I loved my husband and I grieved for him when he died. I’m still grieving. But Derek’s gone and he isn’t ever coming back. Life goes on and I have to go on, too.”
“Yes, you do,” Alix said firmly. She took another bite of her lunch.
“It’s just the one date,” Colette said aloud, as if she needed to reassure herself. She’d obviously returned to the subject of her former boss.
“Do you really feel you need to go through with this?” Alix asked. Something had happened there, but Colette had dropped such obscure hints that Alix couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Probably an office romance gone wrong.
Colette nodded. “I’ll have dinner with him, and then it’ll be over, once and for all.”
“I say almost the same thing about the wedding,” Alix told her half-humorously. “It’s just the one day and once it’s over, Jordan and I can go on with our lives. My reward is that I’ll have a husband I love who loves me. If I have to stand up in front of a bunch of people I don’t know, if I have to pretend to be someone I’m not, then I can do that for one day.” Alix had said these words to herself so many times, it sounded as if she was repeating a pledge.
When she’d finished, she discovered Colette studying her. “This wedding’s freaked you out, hasn’t it?”
“You have no clue.”
Her friend laughed. “Wanna bet?”
They both smiled then.
“If you want, I can be at your place when the big bad wolf shows up,” Alix offered.
Colette cringed. “He’s not so bad. His name is Christian Dempsey.”
“Dempsey. Well, let me be the one to tell this Mr. Dempsey that he isn’t playing fair and that you refuse to be manipulated.” She’d do it, too—in a heartbeat—and enjoy watching the man’s expression.
“Listen, Alix, I can do this,” Colette said with more confidence than she’d shown before. “You’re right, you know. Talking helped. I don’t feel comfortable burden
ing Susannah with my troubles. I like Lydia a lot, and for a while we had tea together every morning, but we haven’t done that lately.”
Alix knew the problem there. “Margaret’s pretty needy these days.” That was certainly an understatement.
“I can understand why.” Colette smoothed out her knitting and smiled at Alix. “I’m so grateful you came in. I feel so much better.”
Hearing that buoyed Alix’s spirits. “I thought it was time we got to know each other.” She sipped her coffee, which had grown cool.
“What kind of sandwich is that?” Colette asked.
“Turkey with cream cheese and cranberries.”
Colette twisted around to read the menu board near the counter. “I was so stressed about this dinner tomorrow that I skipped lunch and now I’m ravenous.”
“Here,” Alix said and slid the remaining half of her sandwich over to Colette. “Have the rest of mine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Colette picked it up and took a bite. “Mmm. Delicious.”
“My favorite. Hey, listen. Tell me how your date with Dempsey goes, okay?”
Colette raised her eyebrows. “It’ll be fine.”
“Good, because if he tries anything I’ll break his kneecaps.”
Colette laughed then, and the sound drifted through the almost-empty café.