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Alix answered her with a single word. “Butter.”
Margaret rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known.”
“Actually I came for yarn,” Alix said. She was automatically drawn toward the DK-weight yarn in soft pastel colors. Lydia had displayed them in bins close to the cash register.
“Do you have a project in mind?” Lydia asked, following Alix’s gaze.
Alix felt funny telling others about the baby. But this was Lydia, so she figured that made it okay. “It’s kind of a secret,” she began, “but Jordan and I are talking seriously about getting pregnant and I thought I should knit something for the baby.”
Margaret looked at Lydia. “I don’t suppose she happened to see the sign in the window.”
Lydia’s face flooded with irritation. “Margaret!”
“Well, Alix is smoking, isn’t she? All the evidence says it’s not good for a pregnant woman to smoke.”
“I know that,” Alix said, more defensively than she’d intended. “You can talk directly to me, Margaret. I’m standing right here. Besides, I’m not pregnant yet—and I only smoke five cigarettes a day.”
“That’s five too many,” Margaret said emphatically.
Margaret made overcoming an addiction sound simple. “Quitting isn’t easy,” Alix said. “It’s not just a matter of willpower, you know.”
“I’ve never smoked,” Lydia returned in that calming way of hers. “But I’ve heard that cigarettes are as addictive as heroin. We’d love to have you in the class, Alix, if you’d care to join.”
The thought tempted her; still, she hesitated. “When is it?”
Lydia told her.
Alix decided to consider it. “What’s the project?”
Lydia’s classes were always interesting, not only the projects but the people who signed up. It was through that first knitting class that she’d met Jacqueline, who’d become both mentor and friend.
“I was thinking of having everyone work on a sampler scarf with a variety of patterns,” Lydia explained. “From what I can assess so far, everyone’s at a different skill level. The scarf shouldn’t be too difficult for a beginner but it’ll offer a bit of a challenge for more experienced knitters, too. I think it’s going to be a lot of fun.”
A sampler scarf appealed to her. “How many people have signed up?”
“Just two so far, so there’s plenty of room.”
“What’s everyone quitting? Anyone else giving up smoking?”
Lydia shrugged. “Not that they said. And guess what? A man joined the class. His personal assistant found my ad in the phone directory.”
“A man?” That was intriguing. Apparently plenty of men were knitters, although they didn’t usually take classes. But then what did she know? She’d never actually met any and they had to learn somehow. So, why not a class?
“According to his assistant, he doesn’t currently knit.”
“What’s he quitting?”
Lydia looked uncertain. “She didn’t say, and I didn’t speak to him personally.”
“The lady who stopped in on Wednesday seemed almost distraught,” Margaret inserted. “She said something about a man, so I assume she’s either just out of a relationship or trying to end one.”
The group would certainly be varied, which made for a stimulating mix of ideas and personalities. “You know, it might not be a bad idea for me to do this. I’m going to need a scarf for this winter and I can work on the baby blanket when I’m finished.”
Lydia smiled. “It would be wonderful to have you in one of my classes again.”
“It sure can’t hurt, especially if you’re sincere about giving up smoking,” Margaret put in.
Rather than take offense at Margaret’s attitude, Alix let her remark pass. Lydia’s sister didn’t have the ease with people or the engaging manner Lydia did, but she was a kindhearted person. A little critical, true—not that she was wrong in this instance. No matter what it took, Alix was quitting cigarettes once and for all.
Alix lingered a while longer and purchased what she’d need for the class, then headed home to their cramped apartment. It was near the church, on a street off Blossom. They’d have to make other living arrangements before the baby arrived, since the apartment was barely big enough for two.
She made a Cobb salad for dinner, with grilled chicken strips, blue cheese, hard-boiled eggs and sliced pickled beets, one of her favorite vegetables. Jordan liked turkey bacon on his, but she’d added that to the grocery list because they were out of it. Just as she was putting the finishing touches on their dinner, Jordan walked in.
“Hi, sweetie,” he said, kissing her cheek. “How’d your day go?”
“Good.”
“Mine, too,” he told her. He sat down at their dining table. “Have you got a moment to chat?” he asked.
A formal request like that wasn’t typical, so this must be important. “Of course,” she said.
Jordan studied her as Alix left what she referred to as her alcove kitchen and sat down at the small table with the two chairs.
“Something wrong?” she inquired, feeling slightly nervous.
“Not really… It’s just that I got a call from my dad this afternoon. I must’ve spent an hour on the phone with him.”
Jordan and his father kept in close contact and spoke often, so the call in itself wasn’t unusual. “And?” she prodded.
“The family’s been trying to sell Grandma Turner’s house on the lake.”
That wasn’t new. After the funeral, the house had gone up for sale. The housing market was weak, and even lakefront properties weren’t selling. Grandma’s house was older, too. Alix felt the family was making a big mistake; she feared that in years to come they’d regret ever letting go of that wonderful home where Grandma Turner had spent her entire married life.
Alix loved the old house with its expansive front yard and wide flower beds. Grandma Turner had worked in her yard until the day before she died. She and Alix had developed a special friendship. Much of their time together was spent gardening, and the smell, the feel, of sun-warmed earth was something Alix would always associate with Sarah Turner. The older woman was everything she hoped to be one day: generous, gracious, accepting and loving.
Not only had Jordan’s grandmother welcomed her into their family, but when Alix had been uncertain about going through with the wedding, Sarah had taken her in and sheltered her.
“Did the house sell?” Alix asked.
“Not yet.”
Her immediate reaction was a feeling of relief. The price had been lowered twice, but still no takers. What would’ve sold quickly as little as a year ago lingered on the market now.
“Dad doesn’t think it’s a good idea to leave the house vacant for so long.”
Alix agreed, but she was worried about renting it out. “Is he going to put it on the rental market?” she asked warily.
“Not exactly,” Jordan told her. “Dad suggested you and I move there until a buyer’s found.”
Alix nearly squealed with delight. Not once had the thought occurred to her and yet it was the perfect solution. “Jordan, I’d love that!” Their apartment was so tiny they had virtually no storage space. Wedding gifts had to be kept at his parents’ home because there was simply nowhere to put them.
No similar enthusiasm showed in her husband’s eyes. “We need to think this through carefully, Alix. It sounds like a good idea now. I know you love the house, but there are complications.”
Alix was aware of those, but she didn’t care. Any inconvenience would be minimal compared to the benefits. “Well, sure, there are bound to be some changes,” she said. “For one thing, we’ll have to commute to the city every morning.”
“It’s more than that.” Jordan shook his head. “There’s no telling how soon it’ll be before someone makes an offer and the deal closes. Then we’d have to pack up and move out.”
“That’s okay,” Alix said eagerly. They didn’t have much furniture so it wouldn’t take long to move again. No matter how many—or how few—months they had in the house by the lake, it would be worth the inconvenience.
Jordan didn’t seem to hear her. “In addition to that, there’s no guarantee we’d find another apartment as reasonable as this one.”
“Can’t we trust the Lord to look after the details?” she asked. “Doesn’t it feel as if this is meant to be?”
“Alix, do you know how much work is involved in moving?”
He had to be joking! She’d moved almost every six months her entire life. Her parents could never manage to pay the rent and still afford booze. Eviction never seemed to faze them; there were always other houses, other neighborhoods.
Later, as a foster child, Alix had never lasted long with any family. By sixteen she was essentially on her own.
“Jordan,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “I do know all the work involved in moving.”
He frowned. “I can’t believe you’re serious about this.”
“But I am! I think it’s a great opportunity.”
He squeezed her fingers. “I know you loved Grandma Turner and she loved you, but I didn’t believe you’d actually be willing to move into her house. I mean, because of the distance and the fact that we’d have no guarantees…”
“What…what about rent?” Their budget was tight because they’d been saving every extra penny for a down payment on a house. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be Sarah Turner’s house with its extensive property. She’d seen the asking price and it was way beyond what they’d be able to afford.
Jordan shrugged. “The one advantage is that we’d be living rent-free.”
Alix threw her arms in the air. “That’s so generous! It’s perfect, Jordan! Just perfect. We’ll be able to save for our own house and when you get your raise, we can put that money aside, too.” Another advantage was Sarah’s furniture; much of it was still there. Whatever the family wanted had already been taken. The rest was left for whoever purchased the house.
“But you have to remember that utilities will be higher, and then there’s the cost of the commute.” He made these sound like monumental issues.
“I’ll take the bus,” Alix said happily. The house was on a bus route and she could always read or knit while traveling into the city, even if she had to leave extra-early in the morning. The afternoons wouldn’t be so bad. She actually looked forward to riding the bus.
“I’ll take public transportation, too, but there are certain days I’ll need the car and with the price of gas—”
“Weren’t you the one who just said we should leave the details to God?” she challenged.
“No, you did.”
Alix giggled. “Then I heard it from you first.”
“I never thought you’d go for this,” he said in a wondering tone.
“Jordan, we were married at the lake house. Aren’t you the romantic one in the family?”
“Yes, well…”
“There’s another benefit you’re forgetting,” she whispered seductively.
“What’s that?”
“We’ve been talking about me getting pregnant, right?”
“Right…when you’re ready.”
That was his subtle reminder that she had to quit smoking first.
“I should be soon. And Jordan, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we conceived our baby in a home that’s been in your family for generations?”
Jordan’s gaze held hers. “That does sound like a wonderful idea….”
Alix grinned. “I knew you’d think so.”
CHAPTER
5
Anne Marie Roche
Anne Marie and Ellen Roche hauled their suitcases up the stairs to the small apartment above Blossom Street Books. The flight from Paris had landed them back in Seattle midafternoon but it felt like the middle of the night to Anne Marie.
Nine-year-old Ellen had slept for most of the flight, but not Anne Marie. Instead, she’d cradled her daughter with one arm and reveled in each and every precious memory of their two-week vacation.
Even after nearly eight months it seemed unbelievable that she was now legally Ellen’s mother. A few words in front of a judge had made it so. In truth, the judge’s proclamation had been a mere formality. Anne Marie had become Ellen’s mother in her mind, in her heart, long before anything was official.
Almost a year and a half earlier, on Valentine’s Day, Anne Marie, together with three other widows, had made a list of twenty wishes. One of her wishes was to travel to Paris with someone she loved. That someone had turned out to be Ellen. A number of her wishes had come to pass, and some, like the Paris trip, had taken place in unexpected ways.
“Can we get Baxter now?” Ellen asked, racing out of her small bedroom, where she’d deposited her suitcase.
“In a little while.”
Anne Marie missed her Yorkie, too. Her friend Elise Beaumont—one of the group of Valentine widows—had looked after Baxter these past two weeks. Anne Marie had predicted that by the time they got back, Elise would recognize the benefits of canine companionship.
“I want to teach Baxter French,” Ellen said.
The girl had picked up phrases with surprising ease and was determined not to forget a single word.
“J’aime la France,” Ellen said.
“Moi, aussi.” Anne Marie remembered that much French, despite her exhaustion.
“S’il vous plaît, donne moi quelques bon-bons?” Ellen asked next.
“No, you can’t have any candy!”
“Ah, Mom…”
Anne Marie returned to her unpacking. “Let me put in a load of wash and then we’ll go get Baxter.”
Ellen went back to her bedroom and finished unpacking her own suitcase. Then she stored it beneath her bed, which was littered with souvenirs she’d purchased in Paris for herself and special friends.
Anne Marie was touched by the girl’s generosity. Ellen had spent all the money she’d saved from her allowance on trinkets for her school friends as well as Melissa, Anne Marie’s stepdaughter, and her baby boy.
After dumping a load of clothes in the washer and setting the dial, Anne Marie called Elise and asked if it would be convenient to collect Baxter. She was told they could come anytime. While she was on the phone she decided to check her voice mail. With pen and pad in hand, she prepared to listen to two weeks’ worth of messages. Among them, as she expected, were a number of calls from real estate agents.
The time had come to search for a home. The apartment above the bookstore had been fine when it was just her, but she had a daughter to consider now. Anne Marie had started looking and hoped to find a place this summer. With Ellen’s circumstances so changed, she’d delayed the move, wanting the child to feel secure in her new life.
There were four or five calls regarding houses in the neighborhood Anne Marie had chosen. She wanted Ellen to be able to attend the same school. Unfortunately, the homes in that neighborhood were older, and many were badly in need of updating and repairs. Anne Marie would have to pay for the work, and that added extensively to the cost.
To her surprise there were a number of hang-ups, as well. She generally didn’t get more than one or two a month, if that. After the third, she began counting and tallied seven. Someone seemed to be trying hard to get hold of her, although she had no idea who it might be.
Well, no point in worrying about it. Anyone this persistent was bound to try again. However, the fact that this person hadn’t left a message was a bit disconcerting.
“Is anything wrong?” Ellen murmured as she entered the kitchen.
“No, of course not. Why do you ask?”
“You’re frowning,” Ellen said, studying her, sensitive as always to her moods.
It meant that Anne Marie had to be careful not to overdramatize her emotions. “Everything’s fine. Now let’s go pick up Baxter,” she said, grabbing Ellen about the waist and tickling her.
The girl squealed delightedly.
Reaching for her purse, Anne Marie followed Ellen, who bounced down the stairs ahead of her.
Teresa, her full-time employee, looked up when Ellen burst into the bookstore. “I didn’t expect you guys to go out so soon,” she commented. She stood behind the cash register, opening the latest order from Ingram’s, a distributor. Cartons of books were stacked behind her, a good indication that business hadn’t slacked off while Anne Marie was away.
“We’re going to get Baxter,” Anne Marie explained. “We probably won’t be long.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“Exhausted,” Anne Marie told her.
“Ellen seems raring to go.”
That wasn’t unusual. But Anne Marie suspected jet lag would catch up with her soon.
“Can we say hello to Susannah?” Ellen asked.
“Of course, but remember if she’s with a customer we’ll have to wait.”
“Okay.” Ellen held the shop door open for her.
Susannah had two customers, but when she saw Anne Marie and Ellen, she smiled and waved.
“Lydia and Margaret don’t look busy,” Ellen said as she peered into the front window of A Good Yarn. Her small hands framed her face and she stared at the sleeping cat. “Whiskers misses Baxter, too, don’t you, Whiskers?” she asked. “Can we go in, Mom?”
“We can only visit for a few minutes,” Anne Marie cautioned. “Elise is waiting and so is Baxter.”
“Okay.”
As soon as they walked in, Lydia leaped to her feet. “Anne Marie! Ellen! Welcome home. How was Paris?”
Anne Marie sighed luxuriously. “Wonderful! Everything I’ve ever imagined and more.”
Lydia clasped her hands together and smiled warmly. “I knew it would be.”
“How did the neighborhood survive without us?” Anne Marie teased.
“It was a lot quieter,” Margaret called from the back of the shop where she sat crocheting. Then she broke into a huge grin. “And a lot less interesting, too.”
“I think Whiskers missed Baxter,” Lydia said.
“We’re going to get him right now,” Ellen told her. “I missed Baxter more than anyone.”
“I’d miss Whiskers, too.” Lydia turned to Anne Marie, her eyes shining. “Listen, do you have a moment?” she asked.
“Sure,” Anne Marie said. “What’s up?”
Lydia’s joy was contagious. “Brad and I are going to adopt. We’ve requested an infant.”
Anne Marie clapped her hands excitedly. “That’s incredible news.”
“I heard this morning that Brad and I have been approved by the state.”
“Did you speak with Evelyn Boyle?” She’d been Ellen’s social worker and Anne Marie had come to treasure the other woman, who’d been so instrumental in facilitating the adoption. She’d given Lydia Evelyn’s phone number weeks ago and had been wondering if anything had come of it.
Lydia nodded. “She’s been so helpful. We really appreciate the referral.”
“Any word on how long it’ll be before you can adopt a baby?”
“Not yet. Brad and I are prepared to wait, though.”
“Well, I hope it happens soon.”
“Me, too.” Lydia smiled happily. “We’re celebrating tonight. Brad’s taking Cody and me out to dinner.”
“Can we come, too?” Ellen asked.
“Ellen! No, we can’t,” Anne Marie chastened. “It’s not polite to invite yourself along.”
“I know, but I have a gift for Cody from Paris and I want to give it to him.”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Anne Marie reminded her and then, despite her best efforts, yawned. “I don’t think anyone’s mentioned jet lag to Ellen yet. I expect it’ll hit her in a couple of hours.” As for Anne Marie, her feet were dragging. Once they’d returned with Baxter, she was planning on taking a nap. Ellen would be tired by then, too—she hoped.
“I see you’re starting a new class this week.” The sign in the window had caught her notice and she found herself intrigued by the concept. Not that there was anything she needed to quit. She was satisfied with her life at the moment—more satisfied than she’d been since the early days of her marriage.
“Are you interested?” Lydia told her about the project she’d chosen. Anne Marie liked the sound of it, but a night class would be too difficult.
Maybe she could get the pattern from Lydia. She’d bought some beautiful yarn in Paris and a scarf would be the perfect thing to knit.
“Do you want to join the class?” Lydia asked. “Even if you’re not trying to give up any bad habits. Alix already signed up because she wants to quit smoking—again.”
“I’d love to—but I can’t leave Ellen by herself. I want to make the scarf, though.”
“I’ll be happy to help with the pattern if you run into any problems.”
“Thanks, Lydia, I’ll keep that in mind.”
As Anne Marie and Ellen left the shop, the little girl pointed across the street to the French Café. “Alix!” she cried. “I want to say hello to Alix.”
“Ellen, we’ll have to do that later. Besides, Alix is probably off work by now.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot….”
“Are you ready for Baxter?”
“Yeah!”
Ellen ran ahead of her to where Anne Marie kept her car in the alley behind the bookstore. She wondered if she’d have any problems after leaving it for over two weeks unused, but the engine fired immediately to life. Anne Marie backed carefully out of her parking space and onto Blossom Street.
As they arrived at Elise’s small condominium just north of downtown, Anne Marie called to let her know they’d be up in a minute. Elise and Baxter were waiting, and the instant Baxter caught sight of them he nearly did flips of joy. He barked and ran around, then leaped into Ellen’s arms.
Ellen hugged him close as Baxter spread happy kisses across her face and yelped excitedly all over again.
“I think he missed us,” Anne Marie laughed.
“Well, he certainly didn’t lack for attention here,” Elise said, smiling as she spoke. “I enjoyed his companionship so much I’ve decided to get a dog of my own.”
Anne Marie had hoped this would happen. Elise had gone through a painful grieving period after her husband’s death. It had been different, in some ways, from Anne Marie’s experience, since Elise’s husband—Maverick by name and maverick by nature, as he used to describe himself—had died of cancer. He’d lingered for several years, and Elise had said she was grateful for each extra day. Anne Marie’s husband, Robert, however, had died suddenly, unexpectedly, of a massive heart attack.
“Do you want a Yorkie like Baxter?” Ellen asked.
“I’m not sure just yet,” Elise said in a pensive tone. “I’ll go down to the Humane Society and see what dogs they have available. It seems to me that Maverick would want me to adopt a rescue dog. He always believed in second chances….”
Her gaze fell lovingly on the portrait of her late husband. He wore his cowboy hat and smiled directly into the camera. There was an irrepressible quality about him, Anne Marie thought. As though taking risks was all part of life—taking risks and accepting the consequences with a grin and a wink.
Anne Marie and Ellen left soon after. They’d brought Elise a gift of thanks for looking after the dog—a lovely blue silk scarf with a fleur-de-lis pattern. Ellen cradled Baxter in her arms, murmuring to him as they walked to the car. When they clambered into the backseat, Baxter curled up on Ellen’s lap and promptly went to sleep.
By the time Anne Marie pulled in behind Blossom Street Books, both Ellen and Baxter were napping soundly. It seemed a shame to wake Ellen, who looked up at her with drooping eyes.
“We’re home?” the little girl asked.
Anne Marie nodded. “Let’s go upstairs and tuck you into bed, all right?”
“Okay.”
Anne Marie helped her climb the stairs as the dog scrambled up ahead of them. Ellen fell asleep again within minutes. Anne Marie wanted to do a few chores before she took a nap herself. After transferring the wash to the dryer, she noticed the light blinking on her phone. Checking voice mail again, she discovered another hang-up.