Debbie Macomber_Blossom Street 04 (16 page)

Lillie never learned exactly what had brought about the change, although she suspected that Tammie Lee, the Donovans’ daughter-in-law, had something to do with it. When Paul had first brought home his young bride from Louisiana, Jacqueline had been horrified. Tammie Lee, with her southern drawl, wasn’t the daughter-in-law she’d wanted.

Personally, Lillie had instantly liked the young woman. She was sweet and genuine and good-humored, even if she did talk about recipes for pickled pigs’ feet and boiled peanuts.

It’d taken Jacqueline months to accept the idea of her only son married to Tammie Lee and then gradually, the relationship between the two women had undergone a shift. Not long after that, the relationship between Jacqueline and her husband had improved, too. She and Reese had clearly achieved some sort of reconciliation.

For a while Lillie had been jealous. She wanted the same happiness Jacqueline had rediscovered in her marriage. She’d hoped for that kind of turnaround in her own—but it never happened.

And yet, it wasn’t too late for a change in her
life
. It wasn’t too late to fulfill a wish…

She’d do it.

She’d defy her upbringing and find a way to ask Hector Silva on a date.

M
onday morning Anne Marie was finishing up the sale of a hardcover novel for one of her favorite customers, Larry Barber, a retired accountant, when Lillie and Barbie entered Blossom Street Books. Mother and daughter had never looked better. In fact, Anne Marie caught herself staring. A transformation had taken place in both women and while it might not be apparent to anyone else, Anne Marie noticed. Trying to discern what was different about them, she decided it was a new sense of
life
. They seemed to shimmer with it.

They talked animatedly to each other while Anne Marie completed the sale.

As Larry signed the charge slip, Anne Marie smiled a warm welcome at her friends. He wasn’t in any hurry to leave. Since his wife had died, he was lonely and came to the store for conversation with Anne Marie as much as he did for reading material. When business was slow, Anne Marie didn’t mind. She knew what it was to be alone and to crave companionship. This morning, however, she was impatient to be with Lillie and Barbie.

Larry must have realized the other women wanted to talk to her and, reaching for his purchase, thanked Anne Marie and headed out the door.

The minute he left, Barbie shimmied up to the counter. “I found a belly dancing class,” she announced and threw her arms in the air as if she was about to give a demonstration.

“Belly dancing?” Anne Marie repeated. “You talked about that during our Valentine’s get-together.”

“It’s on my wish list,” Barbie informed her. “I’m so excited I can hardly stand it.”

Lillie rolled her eyes playfully. “My daughter sometimes shocks even me.”

Barbie waved off her mother’s comment. “Oh, honestly, Mother, I’ve wanted to learn how to belly dance for ages.”

“You never said anything to me.”

“I know—I thought about it a lot, but it seemed so…oh, I don’t know, silly, I guess. Then, when I read about a class at the Fitness Center, I decided to learn how to do this. I’m not putting it off any longer.”

“That’s great,” Anne Marie said. She had an announcement of her own. “I signed up for a knitting class.” On Saturday, Lydia had told her that the long-delayed beginners’ class would start the following Wednesday at twelve-thirty.

“Is Elise teaching the class?” Lillie asked.

Anne Marie nodded. Elise had told her that working at the yarn store had been one of her wishes.

These lists of Twenty Wishes were influencing all their lives—and those of others, too. For instance, Elise’s wish had been a solution to Lydia’s problem of teaching too many classes. It seemed that every time Anne Marie went
into A Good Yarn, Margaret was complaining that Lydia shouldn’t be taking on as much as she did. Now Elise would fill in as sales help when necessary and teach three classes. In addition to the beginners’ class, she’d be teaching a session on knitting with beads and another on felted purses.

For the moment, Anne Marie was content with the beginners’ class. Once she learned the basics, she’d venture out into more complicated techniques and projects.

Already she could see that knitting was something she’d enjoy. At noon she’d go and choose her yarn for the first class, two days from now. Timing would be tight, since Anne Marie was still joining Ellen for lunch on Wednesdays, even though the girl was living with her.

“I was thinking I’d have everyone over for dinner,” Lillie murmured, breaking into Anne Marie’s thoughts.

She must have responded with a blank look because Lillie immediately said, “For our meeting? To discuss our wishes.”

“Oh, right.”

“Is Thursday still okay?”

“Yes…” Anne Marie returned with some hesitation. “But remember Ellen will be with me.”

“That’s fine,” Lillie said.

“You’re sure?” Anne Marie could probably find someone to watch Ellen if she had to.

“Of course she can come,” Lillie was quick to tell her. “We’d love to have Ellen.”

Anne Marie grinned, remembering how intently Ellen had worked at compiling her own list. “Did I mention Ellen’s got Twenty Wishes, too?”

Mother and daughter shared a smile.

“My friend Jacqueline Donovan is making one, as
well,” Lillie added. “The minute I mention the idea to anyone, they decide to make their own. Jacqueline told me the first wish on her list is to ride a camel in Egypt and see the pyramids. She also wants to sleep under the desert sky.”

“Jacqueline? Camping?” Barbie said incredulously. “That woman likes her luxuries.”

“I know, that was my reaction, too.” Lillie shrugged in amusement. “Who knew?”

“I guess it’s like me and belly dancing,” Barbie said. “It was in the back of my mind, just a vague…whimsy, I guess you could say, but it didn’t enter my consciousness until I started working on my list of wishes. Sometimes I think we’re afraid to admit we want certain things. Especially things that contradict the image we have of ourselves.”

“Or the way others think of us,” Lillie said.

“Right.”

A customer walked in the door.

Lillie glanced over her shoulder and then back at Anne Marie. “Thursday night, then. Shall we say six?”

“I’m looking forward to it.” And she was. Her list of wishes was growing and it wasn’t as difficult to come up with ideas as it had originally been. All at once a whole world of wishes, of desires and possibilities, had opened up to her, ideas that had seemed beyond the scope of her imagination only a few weeks ago. Perhaps her heart had finally, gradually, begun to mend. She had fifteen wishes now.

12. Take a cake-decorating class and bake Ellen a huge birthday cake

13. Practice not-so-random acts of kindness at least once a week

14. Ride the biggest roller coaster in the world at Six Flags in New Jersey

15. Visit the Civil War battlefield in Gettysburg and then go to Amish country

That evening as Anne Marie put away the dinner dishes, Ellen sat at the kitchen table, doing her homework. Her ankles were demurely crossed, her entire demeanor intent.

Ellen had spoken with her grandmother before dinner, and so had Anne Marie. Dolores was regaining her strength. It wouldn’t be long before Ellen could return to her home and all that was familiar.

“Do you need me to go over your spelling with you?” Anne Marie offered as she wiped the countertop.

“No, thank you.”

“Don’t you have a test tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I already memorized all the words,” Ellen said proudly.

“On the very first day?”

Ellen nodded. “I did that after I took Baxter for a walk when I got home.”

Anne Marie wasn’t sure how Baxter would do when Ellen went back to her grandmother’s. The eight-year-old had completely spoiled him. Every day after the school bus dropped her off, Ellen ran up the stairs to their apartment and lavished Baxter with love and attention. Anne Marie walked her dog twice every day and once in the evening. Now, however, Ellen took over for her in the afternoon. Anne Marie used to take him to the alley behind the store. Not Ellen. She paraded him up and down Blossom Street with all the ceremony of visiting royalty. Needless to say, Baxter loved their excursions.

Cody, Lydia’s stepson, had recently come by with his
dog, Chase, and the two dogs and children had quickly become friends. The dogs made quite a pair; Chase was a hefty golden retriever and Baxter was tiny by comparison. Like many small dogs, Baxter wasn’t intimidated by the bigger dog’s size, and the two of them marched side by side, looking for all the world like Laurel and Hardy.

In addition to Lydia, Ellen had made friends with several of the other business-owners. It wasn’t uncommon for her to return with a carnation given to her by Susannah or a cookie from Alix at the French Café.

“Can I watch TV when I finish my homework?” Ellen asked, glancing up from her arithmetic.

“Okay.” Anne Marie was looking forward to sitting down in front of the TV, too. She’d gone to A Good Yarn on her lunch break to buy the necessary knitting supplies. With the extra classes and increased business, the shop was now open six days a week. Elise had helped Anne Marie select her yarn and needles. The choices seemed endless, and after much debate, she’d decided on a soft washable wool in lavender to make a lap robe for Dolores Falk.

Because Anne Marie was so eager to learn, Elise had taught her how to cast on and showed her the basic knit stitch. To her delight, Anne Marie had picked it up without a problem.

An hour later, Anne Marie and Ellen sat together on the sofa, watching the Family Channel. Wanting to practice what she’d learned, Anne Marie took out the needles and a skein of yarn.

“What are you doing?” Ellen asked.

“Knitting,” she said, adding “I hope,” under her breath.

“Grandma Dolores used to knit.”

Anne Marie nodded.

“She said she’d teach me.”

Again Anne Marie acknowledged the comment with a slight inclination of her head as she concentrated on casting on stitches.

“Is it hard?”

“Not really.”

“Can I watch you?”

“Sure.”

Ellen scooted closer and stared fixedly as Anne Marie attempted what Elise called a knitted cast-on. The term didn’t mean anything to her; all she wanted to do was get stitches onto the needle.

“That’s knitting?” Ellen said.

Anne Marie paused. “I think so.”

Ellen removed her shoes and stood on the sofa to get a better view.

Suddenly she bounded off the sofa and dashed into her bedroom. She was back an instant later with a pad and paper.

“What’s that for?” Anne Marie asked as the youngster skidded to a stop, barely missing the coffee table.

“My Twenty Wishes. I want to learn how to knit, too.”

Anne Marie grinned at her. “How about if I teach you what I know?”

“You mean
now?
” The girl’s eyes grew round.

“Why not?”

“Okay.” Ellen leaped back onto the sofa, sitting close beside Anne Marie.

“According to Elise…”

“Mrs. Beaumont?”

“Yes, Mrs. Beaumont. There are actually only two basic stitches. The first is called the knit stitch and the second is a purl stitch.”

“Okay,” Ellen said again, nodding sagely.

“So far, I just know how to do the knit stitch. I’ll learn how to purl in the first class.”

“You haven’t taken a real class yet?”

“No. I’m signed up, though.”

“Oh.”

“In other words, Ellen, I don’t know all that much, but I’m willing to show you what I can do. If you like it, I’ll take you to the yarn shop and let you pick out your own needles and yarn.”

“Really?” Ellen was beside herself with excitement. “
Really?
Really?”

“Yes, really,” Anne Marie responded, smiling.

For the next forty minutes, the television show was forgotten as Anne Marie showed Ellen what Elise had taught her that day. Ellen didn’t catch on as easily as Anne Marie, but she was, after all, only eight.

Anne Marie was pleased with the child’s determination to learn. Before the evening was over, Ellen was every bit as proficient as Anne Marie.

“I want to knit something for Grandma Dolores,” Ellen stated. “Something pretty.”

“What about a scarf?” Anne Marie suggested. She’d seen several exquisite ones at the shop. Elise had explained that these elaborate scarves had been knit using only the basic stitch she’d taught Anne Marie that very day.

“For her to wear to church,” Ellen continued excitedly. “I’ll give it to her when she comes home from the hospital.”

“That’s a very good idea.”

Ellen finished the row and was about to start another when Anne Marie noticed the time. The evening had
simply slipped away. It used to be that the hours she spent in the apartment moved so slowly she seemed aware of every passing minute.

“It’s nine o’clock,” Anne Marie said. “You should’ve been in bed half an hour ago.”

“Is it nine
already?
” Ellen protested, but she couldn’t hold back a yawn.

“I’m afraid so. We’ll knit again tomorrow night,” Anne Marie promised.

Ellen set down the needles and yarn and stumbled toward her room, yawning every step of the way.

“Call me when you’re ready for your prayers, sleepy-head.”

“Oh…kay.”

A few minutes later, Ellen called out that she was ready. They followed the same routine as when Ellen lived with her grandmother, which meant that Anne Marie listened to the girl’s prayers. She’d been saying them aloud for the last while.

Kneeling by the sofa bed, Anne Marie propped her elbows on the mattress, closed her eyes and bowed her head. Ellen’s prayers didn’t vary much. First, she asked God to help her grandmother get better. Then she asked Him to bless a number of people, Anne Marie and Baxter included, with lengthy descriptions of each. Finally, she gave thanks for the day’s small triumphs. At the end of the seemingly interminable list, she said “Amen.”

“Amen,” Anne Marie echoed. “Good night, Ellen.” She drew the covers more firmly around her and was about to get up when Ellen threw both arms around Anne Marie’s neck and hugged her tightly. “Thank you for teaching me to knit.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, hugging her back. Getting
to her feet, she turned out the light, then tiptoed out of the room. As was her habit, she left the door slightly ajar.

It wasn’t until Anne Marie had stepped into the hallway that she realized something—this was the first time Ellen had actually hugged her. The night Anne Marie had gone to Dolores Falk’s home, Ellen had fallen weeping into her arms, but that wasn’t a real hug. Not like the one she’d just received.

Anne Marie stood right where she was and savored the moment. She felt loved and needed in a way she never had before.

It was like the return of warmth after the coldest winter of her life.