Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)

Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5) Page 23

For Ellen’s sake, she chose more conventional makings of cherry tomato, shredded carrots, cucumber and green pepper. Then, because she couldn’t resist, she added crushed pretzels, guessing Ellen would enjoy that.

As she and Ellen set the table with a white cloth and some leftover St. Patrick’s Day napkins, Anne Marie explained who Brandon was and said he’d be coming over for dinner. Ellen seemed a little nervous about meeting him and, perhaps, about sharing their private time together.

There was a knock at the back door just as Anne Marie put the salad in the middle of the table. “That’s Brandon,” she said, walking to the door as Baxter barked excitedly.

Her stepson entered the small apartment, both hands behind his back. With a sweeping gesture, he produced a bottle of her favorite wine and a bouquet of flowers. He kissed Anne Marie on the cheek, then presented the flowers to Ellen. “You must be the lovely Ellen. These are for you,” he said.

Ellen gave Brandon a tentative smile. “I like flowers.”

“Are you going to thank Brandon?” Anne Marie asked.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Ellen.”

Anne Marie found a vase and helped Ellen arrange her bouquet. Then, without being asked, Ellen opened the silverware drawer and counted out what they needed, while Anne Marie got two wineglasses and one for juice. When they sat down to dinner, Ellen said grace.

Brandon’s eyes met Anne Marie’s as he bowed his head, and he murmured “Amen.” Ellen insisted on saying a prayer before all their meals. Her grandmother had taught her that and it always made Anne Marie wonder how the woman’s two daughters, presumably raised the same way, had turned out so badly.

Brandon raved about the casserole. “This is really good.”

“Secret family recipe,” Anne Marie told him with a smirk.

“Will you give it to my grandma?” Ellen asked, scraping up the last of the casserole from her plate.

“If you want me to.”

“I’d like it, too,” Brandon added. “Hey, I’ll give it to one of my girlfriends to make.”

“Hey, make it yourself.”

“Fine,” he laughed. “I will.”

They finished their wine; then Brandon and Ellen cleared the table, while she made a pot of coffee.

“May I go to my room and read?” Ellen asked. She’d just started the Laura Ingalls Wilder series and Anne Marie knew she was eager to return to Little House in the Big Woods.

“Yes, Ellen, you may.”

They watched as Ellen retreated to her bedroom, Baxter close behind. Brandon turned to Anne Marie, leaning casually back in his chair. “You’d make a good mother,” he said thoughtfully.

“Thanks,” she said, but it was a moot point. If she was going to have a child, there had to be a father, and she was nowhere near ready for another relationship. In a few months she’d be thirty-nine and soon after that it would simply be too late. She had no intention of doing what a few women she’d heard of had done—get pregnant via a willing “sperm donor,” a man who would play no role in their babies’ lives.

When the coffee had brewed she filled a mug for Brandon and one for herself before joining him at the table.

“Have you talked to Rebecca yet? My dad’s assistant?” he asked.

He certainly hadn’t delayed in getting to the point, even though she’d explicitly said she’d prefer not to discuss it. Anne Marie let the question slide for a moment as she busied herself with the cream and sugar.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Brandon said with teasing sarcasm.

She sighed, giving up. “The short answer is no. The long answer is I’m not sure I ever will. If she comes forward and acknowledges the child is Robert’s…then I’ll deal with it. Not before.”

“I can understand that,” Brandon said after a long moment. “I want you to know that Mel genuinely regrets what happened.”

Anne Marie shrugged it off. “How is your sister?”

“We talk every now and then. I have to say she seems a lot more serious now. More mature, you know?” He frowned. “When I called her last week, she told me she’s on the outs with Mom.”

That surprised Anne Marie. As far as she knew, Melissa and Pamela were close. Robert’s ex-wife lived in England, where she worked for an international hotel chain. According to Robert, her devotion to her career had led directly to their divorce. Pamela had accepted a position that involved frequent travel, even though Robert had asked her to wait until the children were out of school. She’d refused and left him and their family for months on end.

“What’s wrong between Melissa and her mother?”

Brandon shrugged. “She wouldn’t tell me. When I pressed the issue, she changed the subject. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, but she made it sound like she’s busy with school and she probably is.”

“She’s graduating this year, isn’t she?”

Melissa was completing an MBA program; she then planned to follow in her mother’s footsteps, moving into hotel management.

Robert had always been proud of his children, and he’d often said they were the only good thing to come out of his marriage to Pamela.

“Yeah, she should be done in June.”

“Is she still seeing Michael?”

“As far as I know. He’s a good guy. I like him better than any of the other guys my sister’s gone out with. Some of them were…well, put it this way.” He reached for his coffee again. “Melissa’s made some strange choices.”

Before Anne Marie could respond, Ellen stepped into the room, a pad and pencil in her hand. “Is having a goldfish a wish or a goal?”

“Well, it’s a little of both, I’d say.”

“Okay.”

“I thought you were reading,” she said.

Ellen looked down, a tendency she had when she was afraid she might be in trouble. “I was reading, but then I thought of another wish. I want twenty, the same as you.”

“I only have eleven written down so far.”

Ellen nodded. “Can I put dancing in the rain with bare feet on my list, too?”

“Sure.” Anne Marie grinned. “Just remember, there’s no need to rush. Think carefully about each wish.”

“Okay.” Ellen returned to the bedroom, muttering quietly to herself.

That interruption generated a series of questions about Anne Marie’s Twenty Wishes. She didn’t mind Brandon’s interest; in fact she was grateful for the change of subject and explained in detail what she and the other widows were doing.

A half hour later, after Brandon had finished his coffee, he left. It was eight-thirty, time to get Ellen ready for bed.

“Grandma sounded tired when I talked to her this afternoon,” Ellen said, sliding her nightgown over her head, thin arms raised.

“She’ll be tired for a long time. Heart surgery takes a lot out of a person. She’s going to need plenty of rest.”

Ellen seemed distressed by that. “But—”

“You’ll be able to go home to your grandmother soon,” Anne Marie promised quickly. She received daily updates on Dolores’s condition and everything was progressing exactly as it should. In two or at most three weeks, she’d be back in her own home, with a visiting nurse to look in on her. Ellen would be returning to the only stable life she’d ever known.

Pulling back the sheets, Anne Marie tucked the child into bed.

“Can we say our prayers?” Ellen asked sleepily.

“Of course.”

“Should I say the words out loud or should I just say them in my heart?” Ellen murmured. Most nights she’d prayed in silence, mouthing the words as Anne Marie watched.

“What do you usually do with your grandmother?”

“She likes me to say them out loud.”

“Then do it like that,” Anne Marie said. The child’s simple faith touched her, reminding her of a time when she, too, had prayed. Anne Marie couldn’t remember when she’d stopped or why. She’d just…gotten out of the habit, she supposed.

Ellen studied her. “You’re supposed to hold my hands and close your eyes. That’s what Grandma Dolores does.”

“All right.” She clasped Ellen’s hands in hers and shut her eyes.

Apparently she’d satisfied Ellen, because the youngster began to speak. “God, it’s me, Ellen, again.” She prayed for her grandmother and thanked God for her teacher and her friends and went through a long list of subjects, from hoping she’d do well on tomorrow’s spelling test to thanking God for her new green raincoat.

Anne Marie didn’t want to interrupt, but she was the one who’d supplied the coat, not God.

“And thank you most of all for Anne Marie, so I didn’t have to go to a foster home and amen,” Ellen whispered.

“Amen,” Anne Marie echoed. Her knees had started to hurt and she rose awkwardly to her feet. On impulse she bent over and kissed Ellen’s forehead. “Good night, sweetie.”

“Good night.”

About ten, she took Baxter for a five-minute walk, keeping the apartment in sight. When she got back, the phone rang; it was Elise Beaumont. “I wondered when we’d connect,” Anne Marie said after her initial greeting.

“Sorry to call so late.”

“That’s okay.”

“The last couple of times I stopped by the bookstore, you were busy.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to ask how the conversation with Rebecca Gilroy went.”

“Oh.” That question just didn’t seem to go away. “I heard you’re working for Lydia now,” she said instead.

“Don’t try to distract me. Have you spoken to Rebecca?”

Anne Marie didn’t understand why everyone seemed to think it was her responsibility to confront the other woman.

“You have spoken to her, haven’t you?”

“No.” She had good reasons for not contacting the woman who’d been sleeping with her husband—reasons that were no one’s business but her own.

Why would she want to talk to this woman, who’d likely given birth to Robert’s child?

Chapter 15

Anne Marie tossed and turned all that night, and when she got up at seven, she doubted she’d had even two hours’ sleep. Whenever she started to drift off, she’d jerk awake, unable to escape the image of Robert and his assistant together, arms and legs entwined. Anne Marie had only met Rebecca Gilroy a few times but remembered her well. Tall and curvy, auburn-haired and in her twenties. As she struggled to sleep, all she could see was the other woman with her swollen belly. Pregnant.

With Robert’s child.

Ever since the dinner with Melissa, Anne Marie had tried hard to keep busy, not to think, not to dwell on the pain that threatened to swallow her whole. But then it would come back, refusing to leave until she acknowledged it.

No, she wouldn’t confront Rebecca Gilroy. She couldn’t see the purpose of exposing herself to that reality if she could avoid it.