The Shop on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #1)

The Shop on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #1) Page 43

“Not you,” Laurel said with complete confidence. “You’re too strong for that.”

Alix didn’t see herself as strong, but it pleased her that Laurel thought so.

“You’d never let anyone hurt you or use you the way John used me,” she whispered.

“Get over him,” Alix said for the thousandth time. She couldn’t understand why Laurel had clung to a man who’d treated her so abominably. It didn’t make sense, especially when she hadn’t seen any sign of him in months.

Laurel looked away.

“You need to get out more,” Alix told her.

Her roommate sighed unhappily. “I don’t like anyone to see me when I’m so fat.”

“Then stop eating.”

“You make it sound easy, but it isn’t, you know. It’s hard to stop.”

“Then take a walk every day. Walk instead of taking the bus. You’ll be surprised at how quickly the fat will melt away with a little exercise.”

“Like you know anything about needing to lose weight! You’re perfect.”

Alix hadn’t realized her roommate had such a high opinion of her figure, but she was far from having a perfect body.

“Do you think you’ll marry Jordan?”

Alix brushed aside the question with a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, right.” She grabbed her purse on the way to the door, but hesitated after twisting the knob. “Promise me you’ll get out today. It doesn’t do any good to sit around here and mope.”

“All right.”

Alix had just stepped out when Laurel stopped her. “Alix, thank you.”

“For what?”

The question had apparently caught Laurel off guard. “For being my friend.”

“Sure. No problem.”

It seemed odd for Laurel to thank her, but Alix let the comment slide as she headed for the video store. Without Laurel there to keep her company, the days dragged. She felt guilty now that she hadn’t talked to her roommate lately. In her own estimation, Alix hadn’t been a good friend, but then Laurel had been pretty unpleasant, so she’d avoided her as much as possible. Any time Alix had tried to talk to her, which wasn’t often, Laurel had put her off. Her roommate’s one solace seemed to be ice cream. Alix considered her weak-willed, but now she saw how easy it was to judge. That morning’s conversation was the first they’d had in weeks, and she was feeling more sympathetic toward her.

During her lunch break, Alix returned to the apartment, hoping to coax Laurel out. Maybe Laurel would be inclined to exercise if Alix offered to walk with her. To her surprise, Laurel wasn’t there. She didn’t keep tabs on Laurel’s work schedule, and her hours seemed to change from week to week. Either Laurel was at work right now or she’d taken Alix’s advice.

On the off-chance that Laurel was out walking, Alix started down Blossom Street, hoping to run into her. When she did find Laurel, however, she wasn’t alone.

Jordan was with her.

They sat on a park bench in a shady area of the church grounds. Their heads were close together and they seemed engrossed in conversation.

Alix’s initial reaction was anger, followed by a surge of jealousy. All those questions about Jordan had been a way of finding out about him so she could steal him away. Alix was half-tempted to march over and let it be known that she didn’t appreciate her roommate butting in on her boyfriend. This was what she got for sympathizing with Laurel, for making an effort to help her.

Then she watched as her roommate broke into tears, buried her face in her hands and hunched forward. Jordan placed his hand on her back, and although Alix was too far away to hear, it looked like he was praying with her.

This was one of the qualities she loved about Jordan. There didn’t seem to be anything she couldn’t tell him. He genuinely cared for people and longed to comfort them. She had no right to be jealous. Nor did she have a single reason to doubt Jordan. Not once had he misled her or abused their friendship.

They’d talked about the meaning of trust and after the incident with the pastor’s daughter, he’d asked her to trust him. It’d been easy to assure him she did—but at the time he wasn’t touching her roommate. Determined to put her promise into action, she turned away and went back to work.

Just before closing, Jordan came to the video store. “How about a coffee when you’re through?” he said.

“Sure.” She couldn’t help the burst of happiness she felt.

He suggested they meet at Annie’s Café and she agreed. He was in a booth, with two cups of coffee waiting by the time Alix joined him.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Fine. How about yours?” She gave him a sharp look, despite everything she’d promised herself earlier. If he’d been talking to Laurel, she wanted to know why.

Jordan didn’t answer right away. “Do you have something on your mind?”

“Should I?” She tried to make a joke of it, then decided that wasn’t fair. Holding her mug with both hands, she stared down at the steaming coffee. “I saw you and Laurel earlier.”

Jordan didn’t offer an explanation. “That bothers you?”

She shrugged. “It did at first, but then I thought…well, that’s your business, not mine. I don’t have any hold on you.”

“You’re only partially right.”

“How’s that?”

He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. His mouth gently grazed the inside of her palm. “You have a very strong hold on my heart.”

“Oh.” From any other man it would have sounded corny, but not Jordan. “Are you going to tell me what you and Laurel were talking about?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Are you going to trust me?”

She stared at him hard and long. Every instinct demanded that she find out what she could. Yet at the same time, she longed to believe him. Finally, with a smile, she nodded.

She hoped it was the right decision. Because a betrayal by Jordan would hurt more than any other betrayal she’d suffered in her whole life.

CHAPTER 43

CAROL GIRARD

C arol stood in the doorway of what would’ve been the baby’s nursery, and her eyes fell on the empty crib with the mobile dangling above it. Tiny zoo animals hung from a small umbrella with a music box attachment. She didn’t know why she was torturing herself like this. Nothing was going to change.

Doug came and stood behind her. “I’ll call and arrange for the department store to pick up the furniture.”

“No…don’t. Please.”

“But…”

“I made an appointment with an adoption agency.” She said the words in a rush, as if to convince him that this was the logical next step.

She felt Doug tense.

“We can’t give up now,” she implored. She couldn’t forget her need for a child. She’d tried. She’d had to accept the fact that there would be no biological child for her, but she couldn’t entirely let go of their dream. “I want so badly to be a mother. I need to be a mother. Just like you need to be a father…”

Doug’s shoulders sagged and he didn’t speak.

“I have to do this,” she pleaded. They’d discussed adoption any number of times, but always as a last resort. Carol had held on to this last thread of hope, and yet she’d feared Doug’s reaction. He’d been so quiet lately; she could feel him withdrawing from her emotionally and she couldn’t endure it.

“You’re sure you want me to go to an adoption agency with you?” he asked.

“Of course! It’s important that we prove we’re good candidates as adoptive parents.”

Her husband’s mouth thinned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think having a crib and a change table is going to sway an agency to choose us as potential parents.”

“I know, but it can’t hurt. I want the agency to see that we’re ready, and that we could take a baby at any time.”

He turned away from her, walked into the living room, and stood in front of the large picture window that overlooked Puget Sound.

“You don’t want to go to the interview?” Carol asked as she joined her husband. They stood side by side without touching. Like Doug, she kept her gaze trained on the waterfront.

“How much is this going to cost?”

Carol didn’t have an answer for him. The initial interview required a five-hundred-dollar deposit and as for the actual adoption, she didn’t know. “It costs as much as it costs,” she said. Whatever it was, she didn’t care.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you have any idea how much we’ve already invested in this quest for a child?”

She didn’t and furthermore it didn’t matter. As far as she was concerned, money was of little consequence. “Not really.”

“There’s a limit,” Doug said starkly, “and frankly I’ve reached it.”

“All right, then,” she snapped. “I’ll go back to work if that’s what you want. The only reason I didn’t suggest it earlier is because I thought the adoption agency would prefer a stay-at-home mother, and that might put us closer to the top of the list. But I’ll go back to work if you want me to.”

Doug turned to face her. “This is exactly what I mean,” he shouted. “We’re no longer a couple. Everything we do revolves around a baby. We used to laugh together, go out, have fun.”

“We still do,” she countered, but when she searched her memory, she realized he was right.

“I’ve been as patient with this whole process as I can stand.” Anger vibrated from him. “It costs too damn much and I—”

“In other words, money is all you’re worried about?”

“If you’d allow me to finish,” he said slowly, enunciating each word, “you’d have heard me say that the emotional price is too damn high.” He shook his head. “I can’t stand seeing you go through this pain and turmoil when the procedures don’t even work—injections five times a day, seeing the doctor every forty-eight hours…. It’s taken over your life. Our lives.”

She agreed the toll on their emotions, especially in the last few months, had been extreme. One day she was filled with despair and the next, riding a wave of hope and optimism. That was when she’d assumed Rick’s baby might be available to them. The only avenue left open to them now was adoption. They had to try. Doug couldn’t mean they should stop!

“Now you want to drag us through yet another emotional quagmire and, Carol, as much as I love you, I don’t think I can do it.”

“You have to,” she cried.

“Why?” he shouted. “Why is it always about you and your need for a baby?”

In all the years of their marriage she’d never heard Doug use this tone of voice with her. “I—it’s for us.”

“Not more than five minutes ago, you admitted the baby was for you. It’s all about your need to be a mother. You, you, you. What about me, Carol? What about my needs? What about my wants?”