Blossom Street Bundle. Debbie Macomber
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.
With Baxter on his leash, Anne Marie walked Ellen to the bus stop, where a small group of youngsters waited, her eyes smarting from lack of sleep. She took her dog home and did a few household chores before going down to the bookstore at ten and officially opening it.
Lillie was there at five after. As soon as she saw Anne Marie, she frowned. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” Anne Marie said wryly. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Is something wrong?” Lillie asked.
“I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No, but thanks for offering.” She wasn’t going to discuss this with one more person, even a friend as caring and sympathetic as Lillie.
Anne Marie turned on her computer to do an inventory check while Lillie roamed the shelves. A little while later, she brought an armload of books to the counter; she was a voracious reader and usually purchased hardcovers. Anne Marie could count on Lillie to buy as many as ten books a month. Her most recent selection included a couple of romances. This was a switch; her friend tended to read mysteries and thrillers. Anne Marie added up her purchases, which Lillie paid for with a debit card.
“Have you spoken to Elise lately?” Lillie asked as she slipped her card back into her wallet.
“She called last night.”
“Did she mention her Twenty Wishes?”
Elise and Anne Marie had chatted about a number of things; however no topic had stayed in her mind beyond the first one Elise had brought up. “Not really.”
Lillie shook her head. “We really need to meet again and update one another. I’ve taken action and I know you have, too. Sharing our lists would be an encouragement, don’t you think?”
Anne Marie wasn’t convinced of that, but arguing about it required more energy than she had. Lillie suggested a day and time, and Anne Marie agreed. “We’ll meet at my house next Thursday, the twenty-seventh,” Lillie said, consulting an elegant little calendar she pulled out of her purse.
Anne Marie agreed to that, too.
“Barbie told me you’re looking after a young girl,” Lillie said next. “That’s wonderful!”
Anne Marie was beginning to feel guilty accepting all this praise. The fact was, had there been any other alternative for Ellen, she would’ve been grateful.
“My wishes are coming along nicely,” Lillie said, continuing the conversation. “I’m taking this very seriously, you know. It was exactly what I needed.” She sighed. “I find myself thinking more and more about the things I’d like to do, to experience.” She placed one hand over her heart. “I have a sense of…of expectation that I haven’t felt in years. It’s like I’ve finally given myself permission to do what I want.”
Anne Marie hadn’t felt any of that. Most of her wishes had to do with recovering from Robert’s death. To sing, to laugh, to dance. None of those had come to pass yet and in her current frame of mind, she wasn’t sure they would.
Feeling obliged to say something, she said, “Did I tell you I bought scrapbooking supplies and a binder for my wish list?”
Lillie straightened. “You did, and I like the idea very much. I’ve been planning to do it myself.”
“You should,” Anne Marie urged. She didn’t hold an exclusive on the idea.
“I think we’d all profit from making a Twenty Wishes binder, don’t you?”
Anne Marie nodded with a tired smile.
Lillie left a few minutes later, carrying two large bags, and the day crawled from that point on. Anne Marie could hardly make the effort to smile. She could’ve phoned Theresa to fill in for her but didn’t. Ever since Ellen had come to live with her, she’d called on her three part-time employees again and again. Since her other two were college students, they were in class on and off during the day. She didn’t want to take advantage of Theresa’s kindness, although she would gladly have gone upstairs and crept into bed, craving the oblivion of sleep.
When the school bus dropped Ellen on Blossom Street, the girl dashed into the bookstore, her eyes sparkling. “I got an A on my spelling test!”
Anne Marie tried to show her how pleased she was and wondered if she’d succeeded.
Ellen didn’t seem to notice her exhaustion. “Can I show my grandma?” she asked eagerly.
“I…”
“You said we could visit her again on Tuesday, remember?”
Unfortunately Anne Marie did. “Sure,” she said, taking a deep breath. Too many promises made to Ellen had been broken, and she refused to be guilty of that herself. Robert had promised to take her to Paris one day. And he hadn’t. He’d promised to love her and be faithful. He hadn’t done that, either.
She allowed Ellen to bring Baxter down to the store, and the two of them curled up in one of the big chairs. Ellen spelled each of the words from her test for the Yorkie, who appeared to listen intently.
At four Steve Handley arrived. He usually worked from four to six Monday to Wednesday and four to eight on Thursday and Friday. He often closed for her, and Anne Marie trusted him implicitly.
As soon as she’d handed everything over to Steve, she, Ellen and Baxter retreated to the apartment. Not up to making dinner, Anne Marie heated yesterday’s leftover casserole for Ellen, adding an apple and a store-bought oatmeal cookie. Her own appetite was nonexistent.
The child ate silently, then placed her dishes in the sink.
“Are you ready to go?” Anne Marie asked.
Ellen turned to face her, eyes wide and hopeful. “I can visit Grandma Dolores?”
“You certainly can.” God would bless her for this, Anne Marie told herself.
Ellen raced into her room and hurried back with her spelling test clutched in one hand. All the way to the hospital Ellen talked excitedly, about Baxter’s progress with his new tricks and how she’d almost spelled puzzle with one z and a hundred other things she planned to tell Dolores. Anne Marie felt wretched. She’d been so consumed by her own troubles that she’d failed to realize how desperately the child missed her grandmother.
Ellen needed reassurance that Dolores was on the mend and that everything