Back on Blossom Street (19 page)

Margaret had talked about how much she missed our mother, and I knew now that we’d be missing her more and more.

Alix Townsend

W
hen Colette met her at Go Figure, Alix could tell that she was worried about something. For that matter, so was Alix. They completed their workout routine and then went for a drink at a nearby restaurant.

“You’re looking very thoughtful,” Colette said, sipping her herbal iced tea.

“You are, too,” Alix said. She wasn’t about to let Colette’s uncharacteristic silence that morning slip past without comment.

“Is everything all right between you and Jordan?” Colette asked.

Alix shrugged, dismissing the comment. Her relationship with Jordan was strained at the moment; it’d all started with the wedding cake and escalated from there. She’d avoided him since then and he seemed to be avoiding her, which only complicated matters. “We had a…difference of opinion. It’s no big deal.”

Colette studied her. “What about?”

Alix reached for her iced coffee and took a deep swallow before answering. “What else? The wedding.”

Okay, so it was an actual argument, not merely what you’d call a friendly difference of opinion. Alix had been good and angry, and she hadn’t been afraid to let Jordan know how badly he’d disappointed her. Now, though, their disagreement was about more than the wedding.

Alix didn’t doubt that Jordan loved her. That wasn’t the point. The problem was he hadn’t listened; worse, he hadn’t heard
anything
she’d said. Because of that, Alix had been forced to surrender herself one more time at the altar of this blasted wedding.

“What about you?” Alix asked. She wasn’t spilling her guts if Colette wasn’t willing to do the same. That was what friends did.

Colette sipped her tea. “I won’t be dating Steve Grisham again.”

Alix sat up. This was news. “That’s the detective, right?”

“Right.”

Alix had no time for what she sarcastically called the boys in blue. She didn’t know even one who didn’t lie through his teeth. Not only that, they saw what they wanted to see. She’d gone down on a bogus drug charge because of her roommate. The cop had been ready to believe the lie as long as it added to his arrest record. Alix didn’t plan to forgive either him or her onetime friend.

She knew Colette had recently met Steve for a fancy dinner. Alix didn’t have that much experience with detectives, but she figured they weren’t any better than the cops on the street. Out of respect for Colette’s dead husband, Alix hadn’t shared her opinion of the police. “Did Columbo put the moves on you?”

Colette grinned. “No, but I talked to his ex-wife and learned a few things that…I didn’t know and, well, it was obvious this was never going to work out, anyway.”

Alix wasn’t convinced Colette should listen to the ex.
Still, she tended to believe it was a mistake for Colette to date any man other than Christian Dempsey when she was so clearly in love with him.

“Don’t you think the ex-wife might have her own agenda?” Alix asked.

Colette shrugged. “If it was someone else, I might think so, but not Jeanine. We were good friends once, the four of us, and then Derek got transferred and we didn’t see as much of them. Now I wonder… Jeanine was always friendly but there were times she seemed distant. I thought it might’ve been me. She never talked about it. But it turns out Steve’s been unfaithful for years, so it all sort of makes sense now. Besides, he’s just a little too smooth, a little too…practiced, especially around women.”

“Does Columbo know you don’t plan to see him again?”

Colette shook her head. “He’ll get the message soon enough.” She sipped her iced tea again. “Enough about me. You’ve been in a bad mood all day. Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Alix explained her ongoing disagreement with Jordan, and described the incident the previous week.

“You can’t let Jacqueline and Susan treat you like this,” Colette exclaimed.

“Easy for you to say,” Alix muttered. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried.

There was a brief silence, then Colette asked, “You’re close to Jacqueline, aren’t you?”

Alix nodded. She used to be, but lately she wasn’t so sure. Jacqueline was protective and a real advocate in ways Alix treasured, but when it came to this wedding, she had a will of iron. She made very clear that she was the social expert, and her ideas were not to be ignored.

“Talk to her one-on-one,” Colette suggested. “Remind her that it’s
your
wedding. Tell her you appreciate everything she’s done but you feel like the wedding’s not about you anymore.”

Colette was right; any reference to the wedding these days was enough to make her cringe. This couldn’t go on. Alix was at odds with Jordan and just about everyone else involved with this wedding. It was time to mend some fences….

When they finished their drinks, Colette went out to do errands and Alix took the bus home. Since the guesthouse was behind the main house and next to the garage, Alix saw right away that both cars were there. Reese’s golf clubs were leaning against his trunk.

Alix knew she had to talk to Jacqueline
today.
This wedding belonged to her, and as much as she valued everything the Donovans and Turners were doing, she could no longer remain silent.

She knocked at the back door and then entered. Reese was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in hand, his newspaper propped up against the floral centerpiece. He smiled at Alix.

“How’s the bride-to-be?” he asked with his usual cheer.

Alix shrugged and gave him a wry grin in response. “Reese, I need to talk to Jacqueline.”

“She’s on the phone in my office,” he said.

Typical. Jacqueline had more friends and acquaintances than anyone Alix knew. “Is it okay if I wait?”

“Of course.” Reese glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a golf game in half an hour. Do you mind if I leave you here?”

“Not at all.”

Reese stood and retrieved his sweater. “Grab a coffee if you want,” he offered.

“Thanks. Already had one.”

Reese left with a jaunty wave, and Alix wished him a good game.

Having once worked as the Donovans’ housekeeper, Alix automatically folded the newspaper and placed Reese’s cup in the dishwasher. She wiped down the counter as she waited for Jacqueline to finish her call. Then she decided she should probably let her know she was in the house. Not that she wanted to rush her or anything; Jacqueline could talk as long as she liked. In fact, the more time she spent on the phone, the longer Alix had to prepare for their conversation. She tried not to think of it as a showdown—just a congenial but necessary discussion with a friend.

Walking down the hall to the office, Alix heard Jacqueline speaking and stopped when her name was mentioned.

“I can’t believe you’d suggest something like that,” Jacqueline said, sounding irate.

Alix froze. She hadn’t come to listen in on a private conversation and yet, when she heard her own name, she couldn’t make herself leave.

A few minutes later, she realized that the person on the other end of the line was none other than Susan Turner.

“Jordan doesn’t have any such concerns, does he?” Jacqueline asked, obviously dismayed.

A pause.

“I should think not.” Jacqueline seemed satisfied with the response, whatever it was.

Alix breathed a bit easier.

“You don’t need to tell me Alix is unconventional,” Jacqueline said next. “That doesn’t mean she won’t make Jordan a good wife.”

It felt as if the floor had just dropped.
So that was it.
Susan didn’t think she was the right wife for her son. Alix had suspected as much and now her suspicions were confirmed.

“Of course, Jordan will be a senior pastor one day,” Jacqueline said. “And Alix will—”

Whatever Jacqueline intended to say was abruptly cut off.

Alix didn’t want to hear any more of this conversation. She knew what Susan was saying and to be fair, it was a question she’d asked herself a dozen times since the engagement.

What kind of pastor’s wife would she be?

Apparently, her future mother-in-law had her doubts. Alix didn’t blame Susan Turner; she had concerns of her own in that department. Jordan was the only one who seemed convinced that she was perfect for him and his ministry.

In light of her current feelings, that was a real laugh. What had she been thinking when she agreed to marry Jordan? What
was
she thinking? For the past couple of years, everything had been going so well. Jacqueline and Reese had given her a step up in life. They’d provided a home and part-time employment. Not only that, Reese had helped her with tuition to culinary school. Then she’d been hired by the French Café. During that whole time, she’d been dating Jordan. And—during that whole time—she’d been blinded to the truth.

Good things don’t last.
Not for women like her.

Alix had been riding a wave, but that wave had crested and she was about to be swept into shark-infested waters. Women like her, girls with her background and her past, weren’t destined for a decent life. They ended up on the street, society throwaways, refuse. No better than garbage headed for a dump.

Alix hurried into her small guesthouse and placed her hands over her ears to block out the voices that were shouting at her. This was “stinking thinking” at its worst.
Those ugly, frightening demons of hate seemed relentless, determined to push her into the gutter. To punish her.

Damn, she needed a cigarette. The craving was worse than ever and she
deserved
one. She wanted one, she needed one, and she didn’t care if anyone saw her with it, either.

She walked down to the corner store and bought a pack, shocked at how expensive they’d gotten since she’d quit. She wasn’t even out of the store before she tore open the pack and pulled out a cigarette.

Her hands shook as she struck the match. Already she could feel a sense of calm and anticipation. Lighting the cigarette, she inhaled deeply and nearly choked. It tasted like shit.

“Damn.” She tossed it on the ground and stomped it out as if she were Smoky the Bear wiping out the first forest fire of the season.

Her cell chirped. She removed it from her purse to see who it was, frowning when Jordan’s name showed up on caller ID. She wasn’t in the mood to talk to him. Or anybody else, either. They’d parted on shaky ground and had ignored each other ever since. Feeling the way she did just then, Alix didn’t know what she might say.

She was tempted to turn off her cell; she didn’t but she waited a few extra minutes before she listened to her messages. There was only the one.

“Alix, it’s Jordan. Call me, all right?”

She didn’t.

He phoned again an hour later as she sat alone in her dimly lit room. And again she waited for his message.

“Alix,” he said, his voice more than a little exasperated. “I know you’re screening your calls. This is crazy. We need to talk. I’m going over to my parents’ and Mom’s invited you to dinner, too. She said there’s something she wants to talk over with us. Call me.”

Alix nearly threw the phone across the room. She knew what Susan wanted to discuss.
Her.
The question being raised was whether Alix would be an appropriate wife for Susan Turner’s son, the minister. The good boy who was about to marry the bad girl. Well, screw them all.

Alix fell on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. What she ought to do was pack her bags and leave. That was it. She’d walk away. Let them think what they wanted. She didn’t care anymore.

To her surprise, she fell asleep and when she woke it was dark outside. It took her a moment to recognize the sound of someone knocking. Disoriented, she sat up and let her eyes adjust to the dark before she stumbled over to the door. She turned on the light and saw Jacqueline, hands cupped around her face as she peered in through the small window.

Alix opened the door.

“Alix?” Jacqueline asked, looking worried. “Is everything all right?”

“Sure,” she said. She pushed the disheveled hair out of her face. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

She didn’t tell Jacqueline she’d turned off her cell. “I was asleep.” That was the truth, after all.

“Jordan called me to see if you were home.”

“Oh.” Jordan again. Good, let him worry. “What time is it anyway?”

“Nine.”

“At night?” Alix couldn’t believe it. She’d been asleep for hours.

Jacqueline nodded. “Come on over to the house and let’s talk. You must be starved. When did you last eat?”

Alix couldn’t remember; still, she wasn’t sure she was in the mood to deal with Jacqueline’s concern. “What’ve you got?”

Her friend laughed. “Your favorite.”

“Macaroni and cheese?”

“That, too.”

Alix hesitated. The voices weren’t shouting at her as loudly as before, but they were still there, reminding her that she’d never be good enough for Jordan. She refused to listen. Jacqueline was right, though; she
was
hungry.

Stepping outside, she closed the door and followed her to the house.

“Reese said you stopped by to talk to me this afternoon.”

“Yeah.” Alix yawned before dismissing the need to have the conversation she’d planned hours earlier. “Nothing important.”

“You didn’t stay long,” Jacqueline commented as she led the way into the main house.

“No… I waited for a few minutes and you were still on the phone. Like I said, it wasn’t all that important, so I went out for a while.”

Jacqueline stopped, lean closed and sniffed the air. “Do I smell cigarette smoke?”

“Ah…”

“I suppose you were with a smoker?”

Alix shrugged. She couldn’t lie but she was willing to stretch the truth when necessary.

“Smoking’s such a disgusting habit. I’m so grateful you gave it up.”

“Yup,” Alix agreed. “Me, too.”

Colette Blake

C
olette read the simple handwritten invitation a second time. The gold-embossed card had arrived in the mail that afternoon. It was a request for Colette to join Elizabeth Sasser for dinner on Friday night. Elizabeth wrote with a fountain pen and her handwriting was much like the woman herself: blunt and forthright. Although it was technically an invitation, the card read more like a summons.

Despite her reservations, which had to do with her knowledge of Christian’s recent activities, Colette was eager to visit the older woman. She’d liked Elizabeth immensely and felt she’d developed a sense of Christian as a motherless boy, then a disillusioned teenager and an angry young adult. Christian was confident enough to stand up to his father and fight for his own choices in life. Colette appreciated the courage that must have taken and it made her wonder why he was risking everything now, why he was violating the principles he believed in for foolish gain. Colette could hardly imagine what his great-aunt would think when Christian was arrested. He would be sooner or later, and it would devastate her.

As Colette climbed the stairs to her apartment, she found herself smiling, anticipating an evening with the woman she’d come to admire on so brief an introduction. At this point, Elizabeth and Alix were the only people who knew about the baby. The other day, she’d felt movement for the first time and was looking forward to sharing this news with Elizabeth.

Yesterday, Steve had phoned and left a message on her cell. Coward that she was, Colette hadn’t returned his call. She would, though, and now, thanks to Elizabeth, she had a legitimate excuse to turn him down. She hoped he’d figure out that she was no longer interested in seeing him. If she needed to spell it out, she would, but she’d rather avoid a confrontation. It wasn’t as if they’d been dating seriously.

As she entered her apartment, Colette turned on the local news, a habit she’d gotten into. The television was company in the evenings. Putting aside the mail as the news reader described a four-car pileup, she rummaged through the refrigerator, seeking inspiration for dinner. While she decided, she opened a container of yogurt and ate that, half listening to the news story. No fatalities in that highway accident, she was glad to hear.

When her phone rang, she assumed it was Steve again. But caller ID didn’t indicate a number and after hesitating only a moment, she reached for the receiver. “Hello,” she said, half expecting some form of sales pitch.

“It’s Christian.”

The immediate joy, mingled with dread, utterly confused her. He’d promised not to have any contact with her and so far—other than his note about Steve—he’d kept his word. He hadn’t called or come to the shop in more than a month.

She’d been relieved.

She’d been disappointed.

She didn’t know what she felt for him anymore. She didn’t
want
him in her life, and at the same time she dreamed about him nearly every night.

“Hello.” She tried to sound disinterested and wondered if she’d succeeded. She’d rather Christian didn’t suspect she was so thrilled to hear his voice. Yet that was the feeling that quickly overwhelmed every other reaction.

“Your card came….”

“I wanted you to know,” he said with reluctance. “But that wasn’t part of our agreement, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.” If he was guilty of breaking his word, she was equally guilty for being so pleased to hear from him. She’d never admit that, though. “How did you learn about Steve?” she asked. “Did you have him investigated?” The real question was: Why would he?

“No,” he replied tersely. “I know someone who used to be a friend of his.”

“Oh.” Colette wasn’t convinced she should believe him.

“Are you still seeing Grisham?” Christian demanded.

It was none of his business, and yet he might have saved her untold heartache. “No.” She didn’t offer any more explanation than that.

“Good.”

The silence between them made her nervous. Finally, Christian asked, “How are you, Colette?”

“I’m very well.” She wondered if he’d called to find out about her and Steve. No, more likely something had happened. “Have you…are you—you know?” She couldn’t say it. She was afraid he was about to be arrested and had turned to her for some kind of help or perhaps comfort.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said. “I’m not in jail yet.”

She was annoyed that he could joke about it, although
he’d provided the information she’d been trying to find out. “Is there a reason for your call?” she asked curtly. Keeping an emotional distance was the only way she had of protecting herself.

“As a matter of fact, there is. I understand you recently met my aunt Elizabeth.”

Colette was instantly defensive, not wanting him to know she’d sought out the other woman. She probably should’ve realized that Elizabeth would talk to Christian about her visit.

“I delivered one of the weekly floral arrangements you ordered for her,” Colette told him. She wasn’t going to admit anything beyond that.

“I see.”

Her shoulders were so tense, they ached.

“My aunt Elizabeth is pretty special, isn’t she?”

“I really liked her.” There was no point in denying it.

“So my suspicions were right.”

“I beg your pardon?” Colette said. “What suspicions?”

“You received a dinner invitation from her, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?” Had Elizabeth told him about that, too?

“Because I also got one.”

It had never occurred to Colette that Elizabeth had invited anyone else, least of all Christian.

“I should’ve guessed,” he murmured.

“Guessed?” she repeated irritably. “Guessed
what?
”

“I hope you realize that my sweet, old-fashioned aunt is playing matchmaker,” he explained. “I received an invitation from her and she says she won’t take no for an answer.”

“What made you assume I was involved?” Colette asked.

“Because my dear aunt has never insisted I come to dinner before.”

“So you knew something was up.” He was far more perceptive than she’d been and she felt a bit foolish, considering how easily Elizabeth had recognized her feelings for Christian.

“She made it fairly obvious,” he said wryly.

“Have you asked her about it?”

“Yes, and my aunt was uncharacteristically quiet. She did admit she’d invited a ‘special guest’ and it was someone I already knew…very well.”

Colette’s face burned with embarrassment. His aunt had probably suggested Christian knew his dinner companion
intimately.
“I see,” she mumbled.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’ll come up with some excuse to decline.”

Instantly contrite, Colette felt she couldn’t let him do that. “No, no. I’ll decline.”

“I appreciate the offer, but it’s not necessary.”

“She’s
your
aunt,” Colette said. “She loves you. She’s only doing this because she wants…well, she wants to see you—” Colette searched for the right word “—happy,” she finished.

“That’s interesting,” Christian commented.

“What is?” She hated that the defensiveness was back in her voice.

“That you’d learn this much from a simple flower delivery.”

“Oh.” Colette’s throat was suddenly dry. “Yes… She, uh, invited me in for tea.”

“And you accepted?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else you told her?” he asked pointedly.

“If you’re referring to the ongoing investigation regarding your illegal activities,” she said stiffly, “then the answer is no. I didn’t breathe a word.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“How could I? How could I break this lovely woman’s heart?” she blurted out. “Christian, if for no other reason than your aunt, you need to get out of this.”

His hesitation was brief, and when he spoke he sounded regretful. “Don’t you think I would if it were possible? I’m sorry, Colette. I’d give just about anything to turn back the clock. But it’s too late now.”

“Christian—”

He cut her off as if he’d lost interest in the conversation. “I suppose my dear aunt told you the story of my less-than-happy childhood?” he asked.

It wouldn’t do any good to press the subject of his pending troubles, so she dropped it. “Some,” Colette admitted, instinctively realizing that he’d hate her knowing about that part of his life.

“I was afraid of that.”

Colette thought about the deep affection his aunt had for him. She yearned to tell him how grateful she was for that hour with Elizabeth. During their visit, she felt she’d come to understand Christian in ways that would never have been possible otherwise.

“No doubt she bored you to death with stories of my love of maps.”

“She mentioned it.”

“Just how long were you there?”

“Oh, not that long.”

“Apparently, long enough to let her think you and I were involved.”

“I didn’t! I promise.” Colette had told his aunt about their one-night stand and the result. She’d also said that they weren’t seeing each other anymore; she’d claimed—convincingly, she’d felt—that it was for the best. Apparently, Aunt Elizabeth didn’t believe her.

“
You
go to dinner with her,” Christian said. “I assure you, she’ll enjoy visiting with you far more than she would me.”

“That’s not true,” Colette countered. She could see that this was quickly becoming a clash of wills. “Arguing is ridiculous. You’re the one who’s related to her, not me, so you should accept her invitation.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it is ridiculous. Nevertheless, I gave you my word.”

“I absolve you from it for that one evening,” she told him. She refused to be responsible for disappointing the older woman. “We’ll both go to dinner and be done with it.”

He considered her suggestion. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. It would only encourage her. Unless you’ve had a change of heart.” At her hesitation, he laughed. “That’s what I thought. No, it’s better that we not have anything to do with each other.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” she answered sadly. Her instincts about Christian were accurate; it would’ve been a mistake to tell him she was pregnant with his baby. A painful mistake.

“Go to dinner with your aunt,” she reiterated.

“Perhaps I will.”

They left it at that, and a few minutes later, Colette closed her phone. Nothing had been decided. Not until the night of the dinner would she know whether or not Christian planned to go.

The next morning Colette woke feeling depressed. The baby fluttered within her womb and she pressed her hand against the slight bulge. She loved this child with a swell of emotion that produced unstoppable tears. For her own sake and the sake of the baby, she’d keep her secret, but eventually Christian would need to know. She dreaded the day she’d have to tell him and decided to wait as long as she could.

Tuesday afternoon after work, when Colette met Alix at Go Figure, she casually brought up the conversation.

“Christian phoned,” she said as she stepped out of the dressing room. She’d noticed a pack of cigarettes in Alix’s open purse and wondered when her friend had taken up smoking. Maybe the cigarettes belonged to someone else, she told herself. She hoped so, anyway.

Alix stared at her with an intensity that made her squirm.

“We both heard from his aunt,” Colette explained. The music pounded, fast-paced and energetic. She wanted to get started on their routine, but Alix wasn’t budging. Colette regretted saying anything.

“He wants to see you again, doesn’t he?” Alix said triumphantly.

“No.” Colette shook her head. “Like I told you, we both received invitations to his aunt’s for dinner.”

“Are you going?”

When Colette nodded, Alix immediately smiled. “Good answer.”

The music had a hypnotic effect on Colette as she threw herself into her exercise routine. All the while, she could feel Alix watching her, silently encouraging her to give Christian another chance—give
herself
another chance. But Alix couldn’t possibly understand that the situation was hopeless. And Colette couldn’t tell her.

Once they’d finished, changed clothes and walked outside, Alix pulled out the pack of cigarettes and lit one up.

“When did you start smoking?” Colette asked, making an effort not to sound as disapproving as she felt.

“Saturday.” She inhaled deeply. “I don’t want to talk about it, all right?”

“But—”

“I need to smoke until after this wedding business is done. I’ll quit then.”

“If you say so.” Colette sighed. Then she realized she’d been oblivious to Alix’s problems. “You want a cup of coffee to go with that?”

“Don’t have time,” Alix answered with a shrug, blowing out a stream of smoke.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. “I’ve been so absorbed in my own life that I wasn’t paying attention to what’s happening in yours.”

With a shake of her head, Alix dismissed her concern. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s big enough for you to take up smoking, so clearly
something’s
happened.”

“Not yet it hasn’t,” Alix said cryptically, then tossed the half-smoked cigarette on the sidewalk and squashed it with the toe of her boot. “Listen, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss it.”

“Whatever you say.”

Alix actually grinned then. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Colette asked.

Alix didn’t look nearly as confident now. “I don’t know,” she said. “Ask me again next week.”