Blossom Street Bundle (Books 1-5). Debbie Macomber
to ridiculous amusement, and our reactions were almost perfectly synchronized. Our giggles must have sounded hysterical. Margaret placed the tips of her fingers against her lips and refused to look at me. She made an effort to focus on what Dr. Wilson was trying to explain. None of it mattered. All I knew was that I had my life back. My beautiful, wonderful life was my own once again.
Not until we were outside the office did I think about Brad. “Margaret,” I said, gripping my sister by the arm as the happiness drained out of me. We stood in front of the elevator. Margaret must have heard the distress in my voice because her smile faded.
“What?”
“Brad … I was so cruel to him when all he wanted to do was help.”
Margaret was obviously struggling not to scream I told you so at me, but all she said was, “Talk to him.”
I’d missed Brad dreadfully and I longed to call him, but I couldn’t. He’d attempted to visit me twice more while I was hospitalized, but I’d refused to see him. He’d asked the nurse to deliver a letter to me. I knew if I read it he’d change my mind, so I’d asked her to take it away, sight unseen.
Later the nurse returned and told me Brad had been waiting for a reply and she’d been forced to tell him I wouldn’t read his letter. Now it all seemed melodramatic and senseless. I might well have ruined the most promising relationship of my life.
“I can try to talk to Brad, but I don’t know if he’ll listen.” I wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to see me again. My one hope was that he couldn’t very well ignore me when he made deliveries to my store.
Bright and early Tuesday morning, I was back in business. I can’t even begin to explain the thrill it gave me to walk into my shop and turn the CLOSED sign to read OPEN. Even the noise from the construction across the street couldn’t dampen my good mood.
Reality intruded with a list of instructions from Dr. Wilson. I was apparently a good candidate for this new drug treatment to prevent the growth of future tumors.
My morning was constantly busy as customers streamed into the store, all with questions as to why I’d been away for most of a week. It turns out that many of them had learned I was back—one person phoned another who called a third, and so forth. I can’t even describe how gratifying that was. Margaret had done her best to be helpful, keeping the store open for part of every day, but my customers were accustomed to dealing with me.
Margaret seemed to have enjoyed working at the store. As little as three months ago, I couldn’t have imagined thinking warmly of my older sister. I was deeply appreciative of everything she’d done for me.
At noon, when I had my first lull of the day, I glanced anxiously out the shop windows, hoping for a glimpse of Brad. When the big brown truck rolled to a stop in front of the floral shop, I nearly raced out the door. But the UPS driver wasn’t Brad.
“Where’s Brad?” I blurted out.
The replacement glanced over his shoulder at the abruptness of my question. “Brad is no longer on this route.”
“What do you mean he’s no longer on this route?” I demanded. It felt as if the sidewalk had started to buckle beneath my feet. I couldn’t believe Brad would do anything as drastic as this.
“Brad’s delivering in the downtown area now.”
I knew what had happened. “He requested a transfer, didn’t he?”
The UPS driver shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about that. Sorry.”
“Do you ever see him?” I asked, hoping to use the other man to relay a message.
“Not much.” He was preoccupied, and I was clearly detaining him, so I returned to my store, my steps dragging.
I knew that what I’d done to Brad was wrong. I’d badly hurt the one person who’d proved himself to me over and over. All I could do was hope it wasn’t too late to make amends.
41
CHAPTER
JACQUELINE DONOVAN
“Jacqueline.”
Her name seemed to come from far away.
“Jacqueline.” It was louder this time and she recognized Reese’s voice. Her eyes flew open and she stared up in the darkness to find her husband standing over her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. Something drastic must have happened for Reese to enter her bedroom in the middle of the night
“Paul just phoned—Tammie Lee’s in labor.”
“Now?”
“When did a baby ever decide to arrive at a decent hour?”
He obviously didn’t expect a response and she didn’t give him one. “What did Paul say?”
“Just that he’s been at the hospital since ten.”
A quick glance at her clock told her it was nearly five.
“She’s close to delivery,” her husband finished.
Jacqueline didn’t hesitate. She tossed aside the comforter and automatically reached for her robe.
“You actually want to go to the hospital?” Reese sounded surprised.
“Of course.” He could do as he damn well pleased and, as a matter of fact, had for the last twelve years of their marriage. But nothing he said would keep her away from the birth of her granddaughter. Already Jacqueline had thrust her feet into her slippers and started toward her bathroom.
“I’m coming, too,” Reese announced as if he anticipated an argument.
“Do whatever you want.”
He ignored her petulant remark. “Don’t take long,” he warned. “From what Paul said, it could be any time now.”
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” In the best of circumstances, that was a stretch, but Jacqueline was determined to keep her word. Exactly thirteen minutes later, she met Reese who sat in the car waiting. He had the garage door open and the engine running, ready to go.
They were silent on the ride to the hospital and Jacqueline wondered if his thoughts were the same as hers. It’d been on a night such as this that he’d rushed her to the hospital to deliver Paul. Her water had broken in the middle of the night and in a panic, fearing any movement might endanger the baby, she’d clung to Reese. Her one concern was to keep the cord from tangling around the baby’s neck.
In true heroic fashion, Reese had swept her into his arms, carried her to the car and driven to the hospital. Fortunately, there was virtually no traffic, since he took the corners at a speed any racecar driver might have envied. Then her hero had carried her into the hospital waiting area. Reese had stayed with her until Paul entered the world. Closing her eyes, she could still hear her son’s first high-pitched wail. At the time, it had been the most glorious sound she’d ever heard.
When they arrived at the hospital, they parked quickly. Together, walking side by side, they hurried into the lobby and were directed to the birthing center on the fifth floor.
At the reception desk, Reese gave their names to the nurse, who suggested they take a seat in the waiting room. While Jacqueline sorted through the magazines, Reese went to see if he could round them up a cup of coffee.
He returned five minutes later with two steaming cups. “It came out of a machine,” he said with a shrug.
At this point, Jacqueline didn’t care as long as it was hot and contained caffeine.
They sat two chairs apart in the deserted room and sipped their tasteless coffee. Half an hour and three magazines later, Paul appeared, wearing a light-blue hospital gown. He looked tired, but his eyes smiled when he saw them.
“Tammie