Back on Blossom Street (21 page)

Grandma Turner thought she was helping, but the old
woman didn’t realize how badly her words hurt. Jordan would never do that for Alix. In fact, he seemed almost relieved about canceling the wedding. What worried him most was facing his mother and telling her the whole thing was off. Alix loved Jordan, but it had become obvious that she wasn’t the right woman for him—and that he wasn’t the right man for her.

Lydia Goetz

I
was now standing guard over Margaret, and that was a real switch. From my teen years onward, I was the coddled one, fragile and sickly, and as a result, I developed the troubling habit of waiting for others to step in and take care of me. That didn’t change until my life finally stopped revolving around my needs, my desires—which happened when I opened the yarn store three years ago.

I’ve learned such valuable lessons about running a business and coping with people and making decisions. And that included everything going on in our family. I’d become my sister’s protector, and one manifestation of
that was shielding her as much as possible from what was going on with Mom. Margaret had enough to deal with in taking care of Julia—and herself.

Because of this, Margaret was taking a lot of time off work. I let her go as often as she felt necessary, which wasn’t easy for me. Some days I didn’t even get a lunch break. It was one customer after another until the end of the day. Thankfully, I loved what I was doing! I still love it.

This Wednesday morning in early May was unusual—because Margaret had nothing to say. My sister’s always been quick to share her opinions, wanted or not. She showed up for work and hardly said a word. Questions hovered on the tip of my tongue. I knew Julia had joined a support group for crime victims—which I’d learned from Hailey.

At first it irritated me that my own sister hadn’t given me this latest update. But vocal as she is, especially about other people’s actions, Margaret can be intensely private about her own life and affairs. I supposed she would eventually have mentioned this counseling group of Julia’s; at least I hoped so.

As if she’d been reading my thoughts, Margaret approached me where I was taking inventory. This particular wool was one of my favorite brands and it felted beautifully. I could hardly keep it on the shelves. The key is choosing the right colors and with hundreds of choices from which to select, I’d been experimenting, bringing in new shades.

“I’m going to need time off this afternoon,” Margaret announced bluntly. “That isn’t a problem, is it?”

“It’s the shawl class,” I reminded her. I counted on my sister to be there in case customers stopped by.

“Yes, I know, but this is important.” I heard the defensiveness in her voice.

I bit off the words asking my sister how much longer
she’d be requiring time away from work. “I’ll manage,” I told her, although I didn’t look forward to running the class while waiting on customers.

Margaret’s reluctance to explain worried me. At one point she’d talked about hiring a private detective, but if she’d done so, I wasn’t aware of it. I hoped—trusted—that Matt had talked her out of it.

After an interminable pause, Margaret answered my unspoken question. “Julia’s going into police headquarters at three to identify the defendant in a lineup,” she said.

“The police caught him?” You’d think Margaret would’ve said something!

“Detective Johnson believes this is the one,” she muttered. “He’s in a lineup so Julia can get a good look at him.”

My immediate concern was for my niece and how she’d react to seeing her attacker again. “How’s she handling that?”

Margaret didn’t betray her feelings easily; nevertheless, I could see she was nervous. “Matt and I talked to her this morning. We told her the
suspect
—” she spat out the word “—can’t hurt her again. I assume he’s already behind bars.”

I didn’t tell my sister that just because he’d been brought in for a lineup didn’t necessarily mean he was in jail. Of course, everything I knew about police procedure I’d learned on
Law & Order.
I did realize that a lot depended on Julia’s ability to make a positive identification. Then and only then would the suspect be charged.

“Julia’s stronger now than at any time since the attack,” Margaret went on. “Matt and I are going with her.”

“Is there anything I can do?” I asked, grateful that my sister and brother-in-law would be with my niece. I wanted to help Margaret through this crisis, but felt powerless to do anything more than give her the time off she needed.

She shook her head. “I appreciate your being so understanding about all of this,” she said brusquely.

I didn’t let on how perturbed I’d been earlier. I certainly would’ve liked more notice but guessed she hadn’t been given much herself. And her acknowledgement, her thanks, meant a great deal to me. “You’ll call and tell me what happened, won’t you?”

Margaret nodded. “I’ll call you from the police station.”

By the time the members of my class started to arrive, Margaret was gone for the day. Alix didn’t show up, which surprised me. I’d never known her to miss a class. I was sorry she wouldn’t be joining us; her presence always made our knitting sessions livelier.

“I haven’t talked to Alix since last week,” Colette told me.

“Me, neither,” Susannah said. “But last time we met, Alix was almost finished with her shawl.”

I remembered that, too. In fact, she’d purchased yarn for another project, a felted purse. Still, it wasn’t like Alix to stay away, even if she’d completed a project. My guess was that wedding plans were keeping her extra busy.

“I read an article about people knitting with wire,” Susannah commented as she sat down at the table and brought out her knitting. After a slow start, she’d done well with the shawl.

I’d heard of wire-knitting, too. “I guess some people get desperate to knit,” I said, trying to be funny. “Some poor knitter was probably stuck somewhere without a yarn store and broke into her husband’s tool kit.”

Colette didn’t laugh the way I’d expected.

“Seriously, though, I’ve seen some lovely jewelry made with gold wire,” I said.

“Really?” Colette finally looked up from her knitting. Her own shawl was coming along, though not at any great speed. I’d hoped she’d be nearly finished by now. Next
week was our final class and she had more than half the shawl yet to knit.

“Anyone heard from Alix in the last few days?” Colette asked a moment later.

She seemed concerned suddenly, although when I’d first mentioned Alix I hadn’t sensed any uneasiness in her.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her in a while,” I said slowly. Alix usually dropped in two or three times a week. She’d long been more than a customer; we were friends.

Friends.
And then it hit me. “You know what we need to do, don’t you?” I said in a rush, wondering why I hadn’t thought of it earlier. “We should hold a wedding shower for Alix.”

“Great idea,” Colette agreed. “Just us—her knitting friends.”

“How about next Wednesday, since that’s our last class,” Susannah suggested.

I nodded. “That would be perfect. We’ll make it a surprise.”

Everyone agreed enthusiastically. We discussed knitting-related gifts—pattern books, yarn in a color we knew she liked, a gift certificate for the shop.

“We could order a cake from the French Café,” Susannah said. “Alix might even end up decorating her own cake.”

We all found that amusing, especially in light of the problems she’d had over her wedding cake. She’d talked about it one afternoon when she’d come by for yarn. She’d sounded depressed about the decision Jacqueline and Susan had made regarding it. I tended to side with Alix, but not wanting to cause any discord, I said nothing to her or to Jacqueline.

“Has anyone else planned a shower for her?” I asked, certain there must be others.

“Tammie Lee Donovan,” Colette said. “Alix brought it up the last time we worked out at Go Figure.”

That made sense. Jacqueline’s daughter-in-law was a good friend of Alix’s. And I recalled that Jacqueline had, in fact, mentioned the shower. Tammie Lee had invited all their friends from the country club, where both couples were prominent members.

“She didn’t seem that excited about it,” Colette added.

“I don’t think she knows a lot of the women who frequent the country club,” I said. “She’s probably feeling a bit apprehensive.”

Colette’s mouth turned down in a sympathetic grimace. “Yeah. She’s afraid she’ll be out of her element.”

“There’s another shower being held by the ladies at the Free Methodist Church the week before the wedding,” Susannah said.

“That’s nice,” I murmured.

“It would be if it were someone other than Alix,” Colette said.

“Is she uncomfortable about this one, too?” Susannah asked.

Colette hesitated. “That might be an overstatement. But she seemed kind of shocked people would do that for her. I think she’s afraid she might forget someone’s name.”

That was a problem I could easily identify with. A lot of people come to my shop, and while I make an effort to remember all their names, I sometimes forget. It’s embarrassing to admit, especially when they’ve been to A Good Yarn a few times.

“It isn’t like Alix to miss our workout sessions,” Colette said. “But we haven’t gone together since last week. She’s not answering her phone and she wasn’t at work today.”

I was beginning to feel worried, even a little scared.

The bell above the door chimed then, and in walked Jacqueline Donovan. She marched purposely toward the back of the store, where the rest of the class had gathered. And she looked…unlike Jacqueline. Her hair was actually disheveled, her mascara smudged and her raincoat badly wrinkled. Appearances are important to Jacqueline, and I’d never seen her like this before.

She glanced at the table and her shoulders sagged. “Oh, dear.”

“What is it?” I asked, but I could guess. She was searching for Alix.

Her next words confirmed it. “When’s the last time any of you saw Alix?” she asked.

We all looked at one another. “Last week for me,” Colette admitted. “We were talking about her just now, wondering where she is.”

“Have you heard from her?” Jacqueline demanded, turning to me.

“No—not recently. Has anything happened?” I was convinced there must be something seriously wrong for Jacqueline to leave her house with less than a full application of cosmetics and several pieces of expensive jewelry, not to mention a perfectly pressed coat.

Jacqueline seemed indecisive, then shook her head. “I don’t know yet,” was all she’d tell me. She remained stubbornly tight-lipped. If anyone had an opportunity to talk to Alix, it would be Jacqueline, since Alix lived in the Donovans’ guesthouse. Surely Jacqueline needed only to cross the lawn and knock on the door. This told me Alix hadn’t been home. And that meant trouble.

“If you see her,” Jacqueline said urgently, “
promise
you’ll get her to phone me.”

“Of course.” That would be an easy promise to keep. I was truly worried now, without knowing exactly why.

Jacqueline left and as soon as the door closed, the three of us exchanged anxious looks.

“Now I’m
really
wondering what’s wrong,” Susannah muttered, stopping long enough to count the stitches on her needle.

“Maybe holding a wedding shower isn’t such a good idea, after all,” Colette began.

Before I could respond, the phone rang. I hurried over to the counter, hoping the caller would be either Margaret or Alix. It was Margaret.

“How’d it go?” I asked.

“His name is Danny Chesterfield,” my sister said.

It sounded like a nice name, the name of someone pleasant, an upstanding citizen, not a hardened criminal.

“Danny Chesterfield,” I repeated slowly. “Did Julia recognize him?”

“Right away,” Margaret told me with a hint of pride. “As soon as they marched the men into the room, Julia grabbed my hand.”

I wish I could’ve been there to reassure Julia, too.

“She called out Danny’s number even before all the men turned to face us.” Margaret snickered derisively. “And guess what—first thing he did was get a lawyer.”

Of course he would.

“Detective Johnson says he belongs to a gang of car thieves that target certain cars. Apparently, Danny’s been in enough trouble through the years that there’s no chance he’ll get off lightly.”

“Good.” Like my sister, I wanted this criminal behind bars, the sooner, the better.

“I can already see a difference in Julia,” my sister told me. Margaret sounded more carefree than she had in weeks.

“Where is she now?” I asked, hoping to talk to her, if only for a minute. It couldn’t have been easy to confront
this felon. Even though he couldn’t see her behind the glass, Julia saw
him
and with his face in full view, she would’ve felt the terror and helplessness all over again. I was proud of what she’d done and wanted her to know it.

“She went over to a friend’s house,” Margaret announced triumphantly.

I wondered why my sister’s tone held such a note of pride—and then it came to me. Since the carjacking, Julia had refused to get behind the wheel of a car.

“Julia
drove?
” I asked breathlessly.

Margaret, who so rarely laughs, did. “Yes. By herself.”

“Oh, Margaret, that’s fabulous!”

“It’s over,” she said soberly. “At last this nightmare is over.”

I prayed my sister was right.

Colette Blake

S
usannah had a doctor’s appointment, so Colette was opening the flower shop on her own Friday morning. As she approached the alley doorway, she noticed someone squatting there, puffing away on a cigarette. A plume of smoke rose from the hunched figure.

“Alix?” Colette couldn’t keep the relief out of her voice. “Is that you?”

Slowly Alix Townsend rose to a standing position, then dropped the cigarette and ground it out. Colette was filled with questions. Everyone had been talking about Alix and no one seemed to know where she’d been for the past four days.

“What are you doing here in the alley?” Colette asked, unlocking the door.

“I need to talk to you,” Alix said gruffly and followed Colette into the back of the shop.

“It’s so good to see you,” Colette told her, ignoring her rudeness. She flipped on the lights and punched in the code to shut off the alarm. Walking to the front of the shop, she turned over the Closed sign. Susannah liked to
prop open the door, which she saw as an invitation for customers to come in and browse. Her “open-door policy” had been successful, too; equally enticing were the buckets of fresh flowers she arranged along the sidewalk.

Colette left the door open; she would set everything up when she’d finished talking to Alix. This was going to be a busy day for her. After work, she’d be joining Christian and his aunt for dinner. Although she was reluctant to admit it, Colette was looking forward to the evening. It’d been more than a month since she’d seen Christian and despite everything, she craved the sight of him.

“What’s up? Is there anything I can do for you?” Colette asked, but what she really wanted to know was where Alix had been and why. Her friend looked as if she hadn’t slept in a week. The smudges under her eyes spoke of misery and exhaustion.

“I came to cancel the wedding flowers,” Alix said abruptly.

This was a shock, but Colette tried not to show it. “Are you changing the order?” she asked. “Or canceling it altogether?”

Alix’s eyes were shadowed. “Canceling.”

Susannah would be disappointed. The Turner wedding was a huge order and had come with a substantial down payment. Although she’d hold a certain amount back, it would still be a loss.

“So you and Jordan have decided to call off the wedding?” Colette asked, finding this hard to believe. Colette knew how much Alix loved him. In fact, Colette envied her friend the close relationship she had with her fiancé.

“As of last Tuesday, the wedding’s officially off,” Alix said blandly. Colette stared at her. Despite Alix’s no-big-deal attitude, this must be ripping her heart out. It also ex
plained why no one had seen her all week. Colette noticed that Alix’s hands were shaking, although she tried to hide it by shoving them in her pockets.

“The paperwork’s in the office,” Colette said in a noncommittal tone. She led Alix there, out of view of anyone who might be looking in the shop windows. As soon as they were alone, she breathed, “What
happened?
”

Alix tried unsuccessfully to pretend it was a small thing. “Jordan and I agreed it was for the best, that’s all.”

“Oh, Alix, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, rejecting Colette’s sympathy. “Anyone looking at the two of us could see it was a mistake.”

Colette didn’t buy that for a minute.

“I was living in a fool’s paradise,” Alix went on. She climbed up on a stool while Colette prepared a pot of coffee. After a few minutes, the rich, tantalizing scent drifted through the small office.

“I’m not the right woman to be a pastor’s wife,” Alix said. “Thank goodness I recognized that before it was too late.”

Colette was stunned. “But…”

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” Alix was saying.

“Where
were
you?”

Alix stared down at the hardwood floor. “I took a few vacation days and went to see a…family friend. Then, yesterday afternoon, I started looking for someplace to move. I applied for a few other jobs, as well.”

“But why?”

When Alix glanced up again, Colette winced at the pain in her eyes. “I can’t stay around this neighborhood with Jordan here. It would hurt too much to see him nearly every day and I would, you know.”

That was true enough. Colette had run into Jordan at the French Café a number of times. Even if he and Alix made an effort to avoid each other, it would be almost impossible.

“I figure I need to get away from here,” Alix concluded.

Colette felt like weeping. Alix was her
friend,
one of the best she’d ever had, and couldn’t stand the thought of losing her. Trying to remain calm—or at least appear that way—Colette leaned casually against the side of the desk, hands behind her, ankles crossed. “You and Christian’s aunt are the only people I’ve told about the baby,” she said. “And do you know why that is?”

Alix met her gaze and after a moment shrugged. “You and I work out together—or we used to.”

“No,” Colette said flatly. “I knew you wouldn’t judge me. In fact, you told me that yourself, and you were right. I could talk to you when I couldn’t talk to anyone else. You listened to me. You cared and you didn’t make me feel guilty or stupid.”

Alix bowed her head. “Thank you,” she whispered and her voice cracked with pain. “That means a lot to me. But the wedding is off. Jordan and I agreed a few days ago to cancel everything. The only reason I’m here now is to take care of business before I find a new job and someplace else to move.”

“Does Jacqueline know about this?”

“I haven’t talked to the Donovans yet.”

“Have you decided where you’re going?”

“No,” she said, “but that’s not a problem. As a kid I changed neighborhoods more often than a moving van.”

Colette dredged up the energy to smile. So Alix was going to run away. Well, she’d been on the run, too. And what she’d learned in the last months was that the person she was running from was herself. Not Christian, not her circumstances, but herself.

Alix was quiet for several minutes. “Susan doesn’t think I’d make Jordan a good wife and she should know.”
Alix tried to make it sound like a joke, but Colette wasn’t amused. “You have to admit she’s more of an expert on this than either Jordan or me.”

“I don’t agree.” Colette rested her hands on her hips, struggling not to reveal her irritation. “Don’t you understand how
comfortable
you make people feel?” she asked. She turned around and grabbed two mugs from the shelf. She filled them with coffee, handing one to Alix. “You’re the
perfect
wife for Jordan and if he hasn’t figured that out, he isn’t half the man I thought he was.”

Tears glistened in Alix’s eyes as she cradled the steaming mug. “You’re a good friend.”

“I’ll be shocked if Jordan lets you leave the neighborhood. He’s smart enough to know what he has.”

Alix put her coffee down on a nearby worktable and sniffed. “I wish that was true.”

“Alix, are you here?”

The sound of Jordan’s voice obviously shocked Alix and she slipped off the stool. Eyes wide, she cast a pleading look at Colette.

“Alix!” he repeated.

When she didn’t respond, Colette stepped out of the office. “She’s in here.” If Alix looked unkempt, it was nothing compared to Jordan. He must’ve slept in his clothes, because everything he had on was a mass of wrinkles. He hadn’t shaved in days, and his hair stood on end.

Jordan entered the small office, standing squarely in the doorway. Alix realized she was trapped and Colette saw the panic cross her face.

“How’d you know I was here?” Alix demanded, her voice angry and defensive.

“A friend of mine saw you. He came to get me,” Jordan told her.

Alix had backed all the way up against the wall.

“Alix!” Jordan’s entire body sagged in relief. “Alix, for the love of heaven, where did you go? I’ve been sick with worry. I called everyone I could think of…. I didn’t know what to do when I couldn’t find you. No one—not even Jacqueline or the people at the café—knew where you were.”

“I spent a few days at your grandma Turner’s.”

“Grandma’s?” He seemed bewildered; clearly it had never occurred to him to call his own grandmother.

Colette felt like an unwanted third party and would gladly have left the room if Jordan hadn’t blocked the entrance.

“That’s where you went?” Jordan shook his head. “Why?”

“I love your grandmother,” Alix said.

“I love
you,
” Jordan told her. “Alix, I can’t let you walk out of my life. I’d be the biggest fool who ever lived if I did. You tried to tell me how unhappy you were, only I wasn’t listening. I thought… Oh, I don’t know what I thought. The wedding’s nothing,” he said. “Nothing. You’re all that matters. You don’t want the big wedding, then it’s out. Done with, canceled, forgotten. If you want a small ceremony with family and a few friends, that’s what we’ll have. But please marry me. I need you.”

Alix remained rigid, frowning as if she didn’t believe him.

Colette wanted to give her a shove in Jordan’s direction. But Alix stood exactly where she was.

Jordan removed the diamond ring from his pocket and held it out to her. “Let me put this back where it belongs—on your finger. Just like you belong with me, and I belong with you.”

Colette could feel Alix weakening as she looked down at her left hand. “You need to listen to me,” she said in a low voice.

“I will, as God is my witness,” he vowed.

“Then I’d like to be married by the lake on your grandmother’s property.”

“That can be arranged,” Jordan said immediately.

“With your family and a few of our friends.”

“Done.”

Alix frowned again, as though she felt he’d given in too easily and she wasn’t sure she could trust him.

“Nothing’s more important to me than being with you,” Jordan whispered.

Tears flowed down Alix’s cheeks then, and she moved slowly toward Jordan. A second later they were locked in a fervent embrace.

Colette wanted to give them some privacy. Making her way past Jordan and Alix, she tiptoed out of the office, closing the door. She felt happier just knowing they were back together. However, Colette didn’t envy them the task of breaking the news to Jacqueline and Susan Turner. She was certain they’d be delighted the wedding was on, but less pleased about the kind of event it was going to be.

That morning’s encounter left Colette in a melancholy mood for the rest of the day. The satisfaction she felt for them seemed to emphasize the bleakness of her own life. She was eager to see Elizabeth—and to be with Christian, although there was virtually no chance of a happy resolution there.

The dinner invitation said she should arrive at six. Colette was ready much earlier than that, but she trotted down the stairs to her car with only ten minutes to spare. She drove to the house on Capitol Hill and was struck again by the beauty of the stately home with its white pillars and sweeping grounds. She noticed immediately that Christian’s car was nowhere in sight. She’d hoped to time her arrival so he’d already be there.

The same woman, Doris, who’d answered the door
previously did so this evening. “Miss Elizabeth is waiting in the library,” she told Colette.

It all sounded very formal. Colette was led to the other room and sure enough, Christian’s aunt was sipping tea by the fireplace. “I’m so glad you decided to accept my invitation,” Elizabeth Sasser said, rising awkwardly to her feet.

“You also invited Christian,” Colette said in a gently chiding voice.

“I did,” his aunt agreed. Her eyebrows rose in an expression Colette couldn’t quite decipher.

“You decided to play the role of matchmaker.”

“Yes, I’d thought… Well, it’s neither here nor there. Christian declined.”

He’d said he would but Colette had hoped he’d change his mind. She was overcome by a deep sense of disappointment, which she tried to conceal. She assumed she’d succeeded until she caught a look in the old woman’s clear blue eyes.

“I’ll try again on another occasion,” Elizabeth said matter-of-factly. “And next time I’ll be more clever about it.”

Colette laughed and slipped her arm through the other woman’s. Together they walked slowly into the formal dining room, where the table was set with the finest china and crystal. Everything looked flawless and yet to Colette it seemed incomplete without Christian.

“Sit down, my dear,” Elizabeth said.

Colette took her seat.

“I brought out some photographs you might like to see.”

“Of your travels?” Colette asked.

Elizabeth smiled as Doris came into the room, carrying two lovely salads, heaped with fresh scallops, shrimp and large chunks of Dungeness crab. “No, not my travels, although Charles and I did enjoy seeing the world. We
had wonderful adventures….” Her face softened for a moment, as if she’d forgotten where she was. Then she roused herself. “These pictures are of Christian as a youngster.”

Colette rested her hands in her lap and it took her pulse a moment to return to normal. Even then, she couldn’t entirely trust her voice. “I’d enjoy that very much.”

Elizabeth raised her eyes to Colette’s. “I thought you would.” With a mischievous smile, she continued. “Now, tell me a bit more about yourself. You said your family lived in Colorado?”

Colette nodded and the conversation flowed from then on.

The evening was pleasant; the meal was superb and the conversation over coffee afterward was stimulating. Later, studying photographs of Christian as a child and a teenager, Colette felt his absence with a sharp longing that was very different from the way she still missed Derek. That grief was like a dull, familiar ache. This new sensation was…pain.

“Next week,” Elizabeth murmured as Colette prepared to leave. “I—”

“Next week,” Elizabeth reiterated. “And I’ll make sure Christian comes.” She pinned Colette with narrowed eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Colette was well aware that Elizabeth already knew the answer to her own question, but she didn’t respond immediately. And when she did, she simply told the truth. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’d like that.”