Debbie Macomber_Blossom Street 04 (22 page)

W
hen Barbie approached the ticket window at the movie complex, she was pleased to note that Tessa was handling sales again that night. As soon as she’d advanced to the front of the line, Tessa broke into a huge smile.

“Uncle Mark left a ticket for you.”

Barbie hesitated. “He bought my ticket?” So far, they’d met at the pool four times for the adult lap swim session—and that was it. Although they’d kissed that first day in the water, they hadn’t since. Not for any lack of desire, at least on Barbie’s part. But the circumstances weren’t ideal; their privacy the first time hadn’t been repeated, and she wasn’t interested in giving the seniors’ swim class an eyeful.

“It’s a
date
,” Tessa said, as if she needed to clarify.

“Please tell me we’re not seeing another horror movie.”

“No,” Tessa assured her. “It’s a courtroom drama. Lots of talking. You don’t have to worry about being scared out of your wits.”

But Barbie
was
scared. She’d fallen for Mark and fallen hard. The wheelchair didn’t frighten her, but the man who sat in it did. Their relationship wouldn’t be easy and the realities of a future with him were intimidating. Yet the strength of her attraction overcame her doubts.

He was slowly letting her into his life, and that thrilled her. As was her custom, she purchased popcorn and a soda and entered the theater.

“Howdy,” she said as she slipped into the seat directly beside Mark’s.

“Hi.” He didn’t look in her direction.

“Thanks for the ticket.”

“My pleasure.”

She tilted her bag of popcorn in his direction and he took a handful. “As Tessa pointed out, this is like a real date.”

“Aren’t we both a bit old for that nonsense?”

“I certainly hope not,” Barbie said. “My mother has a male friend and
they’re
dating.”

“You make it sound like high school.”

“Does it feel like that to you? In some ways it does to me.” In good ways. She woke each morning with a sense of happy expectation. Mark was in her thoughts when she drove to the dress shop and then at noon when she dashed to the fitness center. He’d never asked for her phone number, which she would willingly, gladly, have given him. It would’ve been sheer heaven to lie in bed and talk to him on the phone, like she had with her high school boyfriend. And then with Gary…

“Yeah, it feels like high school.” Mark snorted. “In all the stupid ways.”

“Mark!”

“I’m not a romantic.”

“No!” She feigned shock. “I never would’ve guessed.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” he said, his voice clipped. “I don’t expect this to last.”

“You’re obviously an optimist, as well,” she teased.

Mark still wouldn’t look at her. “I don’t know what you expect to get out of this relationship, because I haven’t got much to give.”

“Would you stop?” This little speech of his sounded rehearsed.

“Let me finish.”

“All right, have your say and then I’ll have mine.” She tilted the popcorn in his direction again.

He stared at it. “I can’t eat very much of that.”

“Why not?” He
had
eaten it earlier, so it wasn’t a food allergy.

“I have a lot of limitations, Barbie. For instance, I can’t eat whatever I want.”

“Few of us can eat whatever we want. You know what? Everyone has limitations. Okay, so yours are more obvious than some people’s. But I have several of my own, which I’m doing my best to keep under control.”

“Let me guess.” He pressed his index finger to his lips. “First, you have one hell of a temper.”

She laughed outright at that. “How kind of you to remind me.”

“What I’m trying to say,” he continued, “is that this relationship is doomed. You apparently get some kind of emotional kick out of flirting with me, and that’s fine. It’s good for the ego, and mine’s been in the gutter so long that this is a refreshing change. But I’m not a fool. A woman like you can have any man she wants.”

“Mark, I—”

“I don’t mean to be rude here. However—”

“Why not? It hasn’t stopped you in the past.”

He grinned. “True. Just let me finish, okay?”

She motioned with her hand. “Be my guest.”

“This is the way I figure it. For reasons beyond my comprehension, you’re attracted to me.”

“Is it a one-way attraction?” For the sake of her own ego, she needed to find out. “Answer this one question and I promise I won’t interrupt you again.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You already know. You pretty much turn me inside out every time I see you.”

Barbie clasped her hands, still clutching the bag of popcorn. “Do I really?”

“Barbie, please, you’re making this difficult.”

“Okay, sorry.” But her heart was leaping with joy.

“Listen, for whatever reason, you feel safe with me. I’m not a threat to you. I don’t know what went on in your marriage, and frankly, I don’t want to know. Whatever happened then or since has really rattled you. So a guy in a wheelchair’s a safe bet. Fine. The truth is, I can’t seem to forget you and I’m tired of fighting my attraction to you.”

“For your information, I had a very good marriage.” Barbie wasn’t sure where all this talk was leading. “I think you’re looking for an excuse to avoid a relationship with me.”

“Listen,” he said again, exhaling slowly.

“You’re ignoring what I just said.”

For the first time he glanced in her direction. As soon as he did, his eyes softened. “Okay. For now I’m willing to do things your way.”

“For now?” She wasn’t sure what that meant either. “Could you explain that?”

He sighed loudly. “We play this by ear. When you want
out, you get out. Don’t prolong it. Do me a favor and just leave, okay?”

Barbie had to think for a moment. “What about you?”

“If I want out, then I need you to respect my wishes in the same way that I intend to respect yours.”

That sounded fair. Still, she hated the idea of planning their breakup. “Can’t we just take this one day at a time?”

He didn’t respond.

“One
date
at a time?” she said and then leaned over and kissed his ear, running the tip of her tongue over the smooth contours and nibbling on his lobe. “One kiss at a time?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “I told you earlier—you turn me inside out.”

The theater darkened, and the previews started. Barbie put her popcorn and soda on the floor at her feet. To her surprise and delight, Mark reached for her hand and entwined their fingers. She leaned closer and a few minutes into the movie, rested her head on his shoulder.

Mark snickered softly. “Like I said, it’s high school all over again.”

“I don’t care if it is or not.”

In response, he raised their clasped hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand. A chill of pleasure slid down her spine.

At the end of the movie, she walked next to his wheelchair as they left the theater. She half expected him to ask her out for coffee. The movie might be over, but that didn’t mean their evening had to be. When he didn’t suggest it, she did.

“I can’t tonight.” He didn’t offer an excuse.

“Perhaps another night, then.” She did her best to hide her disappointment.

“Perhaps.”

“Will you call me?” she asked.

“When?” He didn’t seem pleased by the prospect.

“Tonight before you go to sleep.”

He frowned. “Barbie.”

“It’s a simple request. If you can do it, fine. If not…if not, I’ll lie awake all night wondering why you didn’t phone.”

“Just like high school.”

“Yes.” She wasn’t about to deny it.

He muttered something she couldn’t quite decipher and from the gruffness of his voice, she figured she was better off not knowing. “Give me your phone number,” he growled.

“Thank you.” Reaching inside her purse for a pen and pad, she wrote out her home number and tore off the sheet.

Mark crumpled it and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. “If you’re loitering here because you expect me to kiss you, don’t. I never kiss in public.”

She didn’t remind him that he’d kissed her at the pool and at the theater. “Want to go someplace private, then?”

He shook his head. “I’ll take a rain check on that.”

“Okay.” What she’d learned from their brief conversation before the movie was that Mark was as terrified as she was. He didn’t
want
to be attracted to her. He’d rather chase her away, only he hadn’t succeeded in that. Yes, he desired her, but he wouldn’t risk any kind of dependence on her. Insofar as he was willing to get involved, he wasn’t letting her any too close. She had a mental image of a heavily armed guard standing watch over his heart.

Several hours later, Barbie lay on her bed, waiting for Mark’s call. It was almost eleven before the phone finally rang.

“Hello, Mark.”

“Hi.” His voice was impatient. “I phoned like you asked me to. Now what is it you want to know?”

She hadn’t actually thought the call required a purpose. “What are you wearing?”

“I’m on to your game! You’re asking me that because you want me to ask
you
the same question.”

“I’m wearing an ivory silk gown.”

“Short?”

“No, full-length. What about you?”

“I’m not saying,” he muttered. “I don’t understand the point of this, and I’m not interested in silly games.”

“I want you to want me,” she said. “That’s all.”

“That’s
all?
” She heard him snort disbelievingly. “You don’t need to work nearly this hard.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Mark,” she whispered, nearly purring his name. “Loosen up. We hardly know each other. I thought we could use this time to talk, to get acquainted.”

He didn’t say anything for maybe ten seconds, although it felt more like ten minutes. “What do you want to know?” he asked again.

“What do you do?” She already knew, but wanted him to tell her, anyway.

“I’m an architect.” He didn’t elaborate or describe any of the buildings he’d designed. Nor did he say where he worked or where he’d gone to school or anything else regarding his professional life. Barbie was beginning to understand him. The less he revealed about himself, the less likely she was to hurt him.

“I have twin sons,” she said, moving the conversation into more personal realms.

“Identical?”

“Yes. My husband was killed in a plane crash three years ago.”

“I know. You aren’t the only one who uses the Internet. Both your husband and your father worked for a huge perfume conglomerate. You never said anything about that.”

“Why should I? Mom and I don’t really have anything to do with the company.”

“You do smell good most of the time.”

“
Most
of the time?” she flared.

“Chlorine isn’t one of your better scents.”

“I’ll have you know you’re the only man in the world who could get me into a public swimming pool. I live in mortal fear that my hair’s going to turn green in that over-chlorinated water and it’ll be entirely your fault.”

“Then don’t come.”

“Uh-huh. And miss getting splashed by you? It’s the highlight of my week!”

He laughed, and in her mind she saw the mercenary who stood guard over his feelings lay down one weapon in his arsenal.

They spoke for two hours. Before they said good-night, Mark admitted he’d been in bed a full thirty minutes before he phoned. He wouldn’t have called at all, he said, if not for the fact that he couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the thought of her waiting in bed taunted him until he couldn’t tolerate it anymore.

On Thursday afternoon, after her belly dancing class, Barbie met her mother for lunch. Lillie had already arrived at the upscale hotel restaurant and was reviewing the menu when Barbie joined her. Lillie did an immediate double take.

“My goodness, you look wonderful! I know it’s a cliché, but you’re positively glowing.”

“It’s just sweat. This belly dancing is hard work.”

“No, it’s more.” Lillie set the menu aside. “Is it that…man?”

“His name is Mark and yes, now that you mention it, he and I have been talking.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

Barbie was crazy about him, but she wasn’t ready to let her mother know that. She didn’t want to ruin their lunch; so far, Lillie had been accepting of the situation and Barbie wanted it to stay that way.

“I didn’t come to talk about Mark. I want to know how things are developing between you and Mr. Silva.”

Lillie smiled, her eyes warm. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to laugh.”

“Mom, I won’t laugh.”

“We’ve been bowling twice in the last week.”

“Bowling?”

“I’m good at it.”

“My mother’s a bowler. I’m calling Jerry Springer,” Barbie teased.

“Oh, stop it,” Lillie said and blushed.

“All you do is bowl?”

“Oh, heavens, no. We’ve gone for long walks and we attended a lecture at the Seattle Art Museum and signed up for a Chinese cooking class.”

“What I mean is, has he kissed you?”

Lillie lowered her eyes. “Yes. We might be over sixty, but we aren’t dead.”

“That’s for sure.” In fact, her mother looked more alive than she had in years. “I think this is great!”

“What about you and Mark?”

There wasn’t much to tell. “We’ve talked for the past three nights.” Mark had confessed he generally didn’t enjoy chatting on the phone. Still, they’d talked nearly two hours every time. Gradually, he was opening up to her and he became as engrossed in their conversations as she did.

When Barbie returned from lunch that afternoon, a large floral arrangement had been delivered. “Who sent the flowers?” she asked.

“Don’t know. The card’s addressed to you,” one of her employees announced.

Eagerly she removed the small envelope and tugged out the card. Mark had written his name, together with a short note.
This time the flowers really are from me.

T
he big day had finally come. Dolores Falk was going home after nearly a month away, first in the hospital and then a nursing facility. According to her physicians, the heart surgery had been a complete success and Dolores had many good years left.

Certainly Anne Marie had noticed a definite improvement in the older woman. Every day Dolores seemed to regain more of her strength and her spirit. She was as eager to get home as Ellen was to join her there.

Thursday morning at breakfast, Ellen talked incessantly about moving back with her grandmother. The instant she got home from school, she ran upstairs to pack her bag. Anne Marie could hear her telling Baxter that she’d visit him soon. Ellen had him repeat the tricks they’d practiced—rolling over and playing hide-and-seek with his tennis ball—a few times for good measure. “So you won’t forget,” she told him sternly.

Anne Marie drove the child to her old neighborhood. “Remember, your grandmother’s been very sick,” she cautioned her.

“I know. I won’t do anything to upset her,” Ellen promised.

She glanced at the girl sitting in the passenger seat, the dog on her lap. “You can come see Baxter whenever you want,” she said.

“Can I see you, too?”

“Of course.”

“Will you still be my Lunch Buddy?”

Ellen must’ve asked the same questions ten times since they’d been told that Dolores was being released. “Of course,” she said again.

“Goody.” And then as if she’d almost forgotten something important, Ellen added breathlessly, “What about Lillie and Barbie and Mrs. Beaumont? What about Lydia and Margaret and Susannah and Theresa?” she asked. “Will I be able to visit them, too?”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” Her friends and neighbors didn’t know yet that Ellen was moving back with her grandmother. As soon as they heard, they’d send their love to Ellen, and to Dolores.

“I’ll still knit every day,” Ellen assured her. She had a knitting bag now, the same as Anne Marie’s. Young as she was, the child had proven to be an adept knitter.

“Me, too,” Anne Marie said. She’d finished the lap robe for Dolores earlier and had given it to her during their most recent visit; she’d completed Melissa’s baby blanket, as well. For her third project she planned to knit Ellen a sweater and had chosen a simple cardigan pattern. The girl had picked out a soft rose-colored yarn. Ellen was working on a pair of mittens. She wanted to knit Anne Marie a sweater but Lydia had wisely suggested she knit one for Baxter first and then try a larger project. Ellen had agreed.

As she neared the street where Dolores lived, Anne Marie examined the neighborhood more closely than she had before. It consisted of mostly older homes, many of them in ill repair. Now Anne Marie couldn’t help wondering if this was a safe place for Ellen—or Dolores for that matter.

It’d been weeks since she’d seen the Falk home, which seemed even shabbier and more run-down now that she really looked at it. The front porch tilted, indicating the foundation had eroded on one side. The roof had a plastic tarp over part of it. Funny, Anne Marie hadn’t noticed that before. The yard needed some serious attention; the flower beds sprouted weeds and a lone rosebush struggled for survival, choked off by the encroaching lawn. A pang went through Anne Marie at leaving Ellen here. Yet, this was her home….

“After we say hello to your grandmother, I’ll need your help carrying in the groceries.” Before heading over to Dolores’s house, Anne Marie and Ellen had picked up some necessities. She didn’t think Dolores would be up to a trip to the grocery store anytime soon.

“Okay,” Ellen agreed. She’d already put Baxter in the back and unfastened her seat belt.

With a smile, Anne Marie watched Ellen dash out of the car and fly across the yard. She threw open the front door, then barreled inside. By the time Anne Marie entered the house, she found Ellen in her grandmother’s arms, both of them a little teary. For an instant Anne Marie felt like an intruder.

Dolores Falk looked up at Anne Marie. “I can’t thank you enough for taking care of my girl.”

“I was glad to do it,” Anne Marie said simply.

Holding on to her grandmother, Ellen said, “Anne
Marie’s still going to be my Lunch Buddy and she said I can see Baxter anytime I want. We’re growing seeds and she taught me to knit and we knit every night after dinner when I’m finished my homework.”

Dolores had heard about Ellen’s knitting at least a dozen times. The child was more animated today than Anne Marie had ever seen her.

Breaking away from her grandmother, Ellen raced toward the hallway. “I want to see my room!”

“I didn’t have an actual bed for her at my place,” Anne Marie explained. “She slept on a pull-out sofa.” She wished now that she’d purchased a bed for Ellen, but it hadn’t seemed logical at the time. She couldn’t possibly have known the girl would be with her a full month.

Obviously fatigued, Dolores sank into her recliner. “I’m just so grateful for everything you did.”

“I’m going to miss her.” The apartment, tiny though it was, would seem empty without her.

Ellen tore back into the living room. “Should we bring my clothes in now?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Anne Marie said briskly. For a moment she’d forgotten about Ellen’s bags and the groceries. “We got a few things we thought you’d need for the first couple of days,” she told Dolores. “Enough to last until you can get to the grocery store.”

Dolores seemed about to weep. “God bless you.”

Anne Marie shrugged off her appreciation and, with Ellen at her side, returned to her vehicle. Baxter, lying in the backseat, didn’t seem pleased to be left out of the action.

“Can I take Baxter for a walk?” Ellen asked as she pressed her nose to the car window.

“Help me first and then you can take him. Just be sure his leash is secure.”

“Okay.”

They collected Ellen’s various bags, unloaded the groceries and brought everything inside. Anne Marie sorted through the cartons of milk and juice, the vegetables, cereal, cheese and bread, and organized them as logically as she could so Dolores wouldn’t have any problem locating what she needed.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she asked Dolores once Ellen had come back with the dog.

“No, no—you’ve done far more than I would’ve thought to ask.”

Anne Marie moved toward the front door, reluctant to leave. “Ellen, finish your homework, okay?”

“I will.”

“See you soon,” Anne Marie said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

“Okay.” Ellen hugged Baxter goodbye, then ran across the living room to throw her thin arms around Anne Marie, holding tight. Her shoulders trembled with her sobbing.

“Hey,” Anne Marie said, bending down. “This is your home, remember? You’re back with your Grandma Dolores. Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah, but…” Ellen sniffled. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, but we’ll see each other often.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, and I always keep my promises,” Anne Marie said. “You know that, right?” She rubbed Ellen’s back gently as the child nodded. “In fact, why don’t I stop by tomorrow evening to see how everything’s going?” Glancing over at Dolores, she asked, “If that’s okay with your grandmother?”

“That would be just fine,” Dolores said.

Anne Marie left a few minutes later. As she drove away
from the bedraggled little house, she experienced an overwhelming sense of loss. For one wild moment, she felt a compelling urge to turn back. She couldn’t imagine what she’d say if she did. Ellen belonged with her grandmother; Dolores deeply loved this child.
So did she
. Anne Marie realized it with a shock that galvanized her.

She understood now that what she’d seen as affection, caring, a feeling of responsibility—all emotions she’d readily acknowledged—added up to one thing.
Love.

She loved this little girl and wanted to be part of her life for as long as she could.

“Well, Baxter,” she murmured, sighing loudly. “It’s just you and me again.”

Her Yorkie, who’d been sitting up in the backseat, turned in a circle several times, then dropped down. He curled up, nose to tail, and Anne Marie thought he seemed as despondent as she was.

When she reached her quiet apartment, she roamed from room to room, feeling restless. Dissatisfied. Living here was only supposed to be a temporary situation. The apartment was empty when she’d separated from Robert and it had seemed the logical place to live while they sorted out their differences. It really was time to look for a house, a home for her and Baxter. She might see if she could find one in the same area as Ellen, a fixer-upper she could keep for a while and then sell for a nice profit.

As she moved into the kitchen to prepare a sandwich, Anne Marie stopped abruptly, recognizing something about herself. She was different than she’d been a month ago. She’d gradually changed into a woman who could make her own wishes come true. A woman who was ready to move on with her life. This was the gift Ellen had given her. She’d opened Anne Marie’s eyes to the many ways
she’d been blessed, despite her losses, and the many possibilities that still existed.

Preparing for bed, she paused in the doorway to Ellen’s room. The bed was a sofa again, and Baxter had nestled on the cushion and gone to sleep, as if he expected the little girl to return.

The room was neat and orderly. Nothing of Ellen remained, and yet Anne Marie felt her presence. Many a night she’d stood right here, watching Ellen sleep. That ritual would come to an end now. But she couldn’t be sad about it because Ellen was where she wanted and needed to be, with the grandmother who adored her.

“Sleep tight, sweetie,” she whispered, then went to her own room to read before turning out the light.