Blossom Street Bundle. Debbie Macomber
“You should try it.”
“I might do that.” Anne Marie hadn’t eaten much of anything since Friday night. She was too thin as it was but she wasn’t hungry, and this latest incident had contributed to her lack of appetite.
“I was thinking of having a bite to eat myself. Join me,” Elise said.
It was more of a decree than a request; still, Anne Marie agreed. Elise was probably right—it would help to talk about this and to eat. With the glimmer of a smile she recalled Elise’s advice at the Valentine’s get-together. Theresa took over for her, and Anne Marie collected her purse and walked out with Elise.
“You should be wearing more than a sweater,” the older woman told her.
Anne Marie shrugged half heartedly. “You’re beginning to sound like my mother,” she murmured.
“From the look in your eyes, I’d say you need one.”
That comment brought immediate tears, which Anne Marie struggled to hide as she returned to the office for her jacket. She grabbed a tissue to wipe her nose, then tossed it in the waste basket. She certainly couldn’t talk to her mother about what she’d learned. Laura Bostwick would use it as an opportunity to harangue Anne Marie about the huge mistake she’d made in marrying Robert. Laura had disapproved from the start. Trapped in her own unhappiness, she seemed to take a malevolent pleasure in destroying other people’s joy.
Elise linked arms with her as they crossed the street. “You’re so thin now I’m afraid a strong wind will blow you away.”
“Oh, come on, Elise. Don’t exaggerate.”
“It’s a problem I wish I had,” Elise muttered. “When Maverick died, I’m afraid I buried my sorrows in food. Isn’t that ridiculous, considering how closely I watched his diet?” Unexpectedly she smiled. “He said he ate like a bird—flax seed, blueberries, wheat germ… Maverick had such a delightful sense of humor. I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever stop missing him.” She shook her head and brought her attention back to Anne Marie.
The French Café was the most popular restaurant on Blossom Street; even now, at almost two, it was crowded with lunchtime customers.
Alix Turner, who baked all the pastries, belonged to one of Anne Marie’s reader groups and often recommended the bookstore to others.
When it was their turn to order, both Anne Marie and Elise chose the squash soup. While they waited for the server to deliver their order, they sipped their coffee.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” Elise said.
“Why don’t we wait until after we eat?” Anne Marie murmured, not eager to discuss Robert’s infidelity.
Elise looked at her sternly. “Don’t put it off. Whatever happened is tearing you up inside. You’ll feel better if you share it—if not with me, then someone else. Frankly, I’m your best option.”
Anne Marie had to laugh; some of the things Elise said verged on egotistical. Fortunately she knew the other woman well enough not to take offense.
“Let’s talk about our Twenty Wishes instead,” Anne Marie said. “Are you working on your list?”
“I am.” Elise smiled. “I’m determined to go on a hot air balloon ride. That one’s at the top of my list.” She hesitated. “I have another wish….”
“Which is?”
“You promise not to laugh or try to talk me out of it?”
“Of course.” There was the matter of those red cowboy boots, for one thing.
“I’m going to get a tattoo.”
What? Elise? Anne Marie nearly swallowed her tongue. “Have you decided where?”
“There’s a tattoo parlor near the waterfront and—”
“No, I meant where on you. Your shoulder or—”
“Oh, I’m not sure yet. Maverick had one. On his right arm.” The older woman looked flustered. “But that’s enough about me. Tell me what’s troubling you.”
Anne Marie would rather avoid the subject altogether; at the same time she was grateful for the chance to talk about it with someone she knew and trusted. She sighed. “I had dinner with my stepdaughter Friday night.”
“I take it the evening wasn’t pleasant.”
“No… Melissa had recently gone to Robert’s office and discovered that his personal assistant had a baby.”
Elise straightened her shoulders. “A baby…” she repeated. “Is it Robert’s?”
Anne Marie shrugged. “I’d say it’s highly probable.”
Elise’s eyes narrowed. “But you’re not sure?”
“No.”
“You’re going to find out, aren’t you?”
“I…I don’t feel it’s my place to say or do anything.”
“Yes, it is!” Elise said adamantly. “Who better than you? Robert was your husband.”
“But…”
“And so far the identity of the father is pure conjecture.”
“Well, yes, to a certain extent. Apparently while Robert and I were separated, Melissa discovered her father and Rebecca in a, uh, compromising position. Nine months later, Rebecca turns up with a baby. What else am I to think?”
Elise pursed her lips. “It does seem suspicious. The only way to know for sure is to ask her.”
Anne Marie saw the wisdom of confronting Rebecca, but she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t convinced she’d ever have the courage to speak to her. “Brandon and Melissa are the ones who need to know.”
“You, my dear, were Robert’s wife. Yes, I’m aware that you’d separated. He behaved badly, and I’m positive that if he was here, he’d tell you how much he regrets everything that happened.”
“He didn’t want another family…. Perhaps he just didn’t want children with me.”
“Don’t say that,” Elise said sharply. “Don’t think it, either. If Robert was alive he’d be aghast at this news.”
“You never knew him.”
“But I know you,” she came right back. “From what you’ve told me, Robert loved you.”
“I thought he did.” All of a sudden Anne Marie couldn’t help wondering. She’d lost Robert to a heart attack and now the vision of the man she’d so desperately loved had been destroyed. Along with it, all her dreams of the future, the hopes and promises she’d hung on to during their separation, had fizzled out to nothing.
“Don’t leap to any conclusions until you talk to Rebecca yourself,” Elise warned her. “No one has more of a right to the truth than you.”
Elise made it sound so simple, so straightforward and uncomplicated.
The server brought the steaming soup, and Anne Marie inhaled the gingery scent. For the first time in days she felt like eating. Elise reached across the table and clasped her forearm.
“Promise me you’ll contact Rebecca and ask her. Do it for yourself,” Elise said.
“I can’t….”
“You can and you will,” the other woman insisted. “Don’t you remember what Scripture says? ‘The truth shall set you free,’ and until you know the truth you’ll be held captive by your fears and doubts.”
Anne Marie merely nodded as she tasted her soup. Delicious. They’d used coconut milk, she guessed, allowing herself to be momentarily distracted.
“Find