“But I—”
“I won’t rest until I know Ellen will be with someone who loves her. Promise me.”
Anne Marie could see that it would do no good to argue. “I promise.” She suspected the state would never allow it, but she had to calm the woman down and there was no other way to do it.
Dolores relaxed her hold on Anne Marie’s arm. “Thank you,” she breathed.
“You’re the one who’s going to raise Ellen,” Anne Marie said. “You’re going to get well and Ellen will go home….”
“Clarisse.” Dolores’s voice cracked.
Anne Marie already knew the second daughter was in prison.
“She’s as bad as her sister.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Dolores looked away. “Maybe I should’ve had tighter control of them when they were teenagers.”
“I…”
“I did my best but it wasn’t enough. They got in with a bad crowd and before I knew it, they dropped out of school and started doing drugs….”
“I’m so sorry.” Anne Marie wished she could think of something else to say. Something more useful.
“The state might try to give Ellen to Clarisse once she’s out of prison. Ellen can’t go with her, either. Understand?”
“I won’t let that happen.” Anne Marie had no idea how she was supposed to prevent it, should the state make that decision. She decided not to worry about any of this, since Dolores would probably live for years and would be taking care of Ellen herself.
As though suddenly exhausted, Dolores closed her eyes and fell back against the pillow.
Just then Ellen returned, escorted by one of the nurses, who left right afterward. Ellen held the plastic pitcher filled with ice and carefully set it on the stand next to the flowers. “Is Grandma sleeping?” she asked in a loud whisper.
When Dolores didn’t open her eyes, Anne Marie figured she’d either drifted off or was close to it. Their conversation had drained her of strength; she was, after all, recovering from surgery. And—perhaps even more of a factor—she’d been recalling the bitterest regrets of her life.
“I got ice,” Ellen said.
“She’ll thank you later,” Anne Marie told the girl. “But at least you had a chance to show her your test. Didn’t you see how proud she was of you?”
Ellen nodded reluctantly.
“We should let her sleep.”
“Okay.” Still Ellen didn’t seem ready to leave. “Would it be all right if I sat with her for a few minutes?”
There was only one chair by the bed, and Anne Marie was sitting there. Soon Ellen had climbed onto her lap. The even rise and fall of Dolores’s chest, the regular cadence of her breathing, lulled Anne Marie into closing her eyes, too.
She didn’t know how long she’d been dozing there when her head slumped forward and she realized Ellen had cuddled up in her arms with one cheek pressed against her shoulder. The child’s weight was warm and oddly comfortable, and she would’ve been content to stay that way for a while.
“Did Grandma Dolores tell you who my daddy is?” Ellen asked.
Anne Marie wondered what had prompted that question. “No…”
“Oh.” She sighed with disappointment.
“Do you remember him, Ellen?”
“No.” Ellen sounded so sad that Anne Marie wrapped her arm more securely around the girl’s thin shoulders. “He’s on my wish list.”
“Your daddy?”
“Yes, I want to see him.”
Dolores had said that Candace, Ellen’s mother, probably didn’t even know who the father was. Anne Marie didn’t want to encourage Ellen to pursue something that would bring her more unhappiness. But as Dolores had also said, you never knew. The man just might make an appearance in the child’s life when she needed him most.
“We can look on your birth certificate, I guess.” Perhaps the school had a copy, although Anne Marie wasn’t sure they’d show it to her.
“I have six wishes now,” Ellen stated proudly.
Six wishes.
Six reasons to hope.
“Are you ready to go home?” Anne Marie asked. It was nine o’clock now, and she was surprised they hadn’t been told that visiting hours were over.
“Okay.”
Ellen climbed down from her lap. “Thank you for bringing me to see Grandma Dolores.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thank you for telling me about the wishes, too.”
Anne Marie nodded. For some reason the gloom of depression had lightened and the image of Robert and Rebecca had receded. Holding this child in her arms made everything else seem less important, less immediate.
Dolores snored softly on. Anne Marie held Ellen’s hand and flicked the switch, darkening the room, and they returned to Blossom Street.
Chapter 16
Lillie Higgins was meeting Jacqueline Donovan, her dearest friend on earth, for lunch. She wore a beige linen skirt and a jacket that showed off the pearls David had bought her in Hong Kong. Lillie was well aware that some transgression had elicited her husband’s generosity.
The three-strand necklace was a guilt offering. She didn’t know what had happened while he was in the Far East—or with whom—and she preferred it that way. Her husband generally gave her expensive gifts when he felt remorseful about something. That something always involved another woman.
Lillie had rarely worn the pearls until after David’s death. Now it didn’t seem to matter. They really were lovely and it didn’t make sense to hide them in a drawer. She had no reason to feel guilty, so she’d begun to wear them regularly.
As she fastened the matching pearl earrings the phone rang. Lillie hesitated, tempted to let it ring. But Jacqueline was usually ten or fifteen minutes late, so Lillie decided to take the call.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Higgins?”
Lillie instantly recognized the voice of Hector Silva, the service manager at the BMW dealership.
“Hello, Mr. Silva,” she said, unable to disguise her pleasure.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’m phoning you.”
“On the contrary, I’m delighted.” And that was the truth. She hadn’t expected him to contact her, and this came as a marvelous surprise.
“I’m calling to thank you for speaking to Mr. Sullivan.”
“I’m sorry, who?”
“Mr. Sullivan owns the dealership. You phoned and left a message about me and the good service you received.”
“Oh, yes.” Lillie remembered that now. “You went above and beyond my expectations, and I wanted Mr. Sullivan to realize what a valuable employee he has in you.”
“Thank you again.”
“Mr. Silva, please, I’m the one who’s indebted to you.”
“Hector,” he said. “We agreed to use first names,” he reminded her.
She smiled at the genuine warmth in his voice. “And I’m Lillie.”
“I wanted to inform you, Lillie, that as a direct result of your comments I was named employee of the month for February.”
“Which you deserved.”
“I…ah…” He hesitated and seemed about to say something more. “I know it’s not—” Again he paused, as if unsure how to proceed.
“Yes?” Lillie’s heart was in her throat. It might be presumptuous of her, but she had the distinct feeling that he was about to suggest they meet again.
“I hope you have a pleasant day,” he finished in a rush.
“You, too.” She didn’t bother to hide her disappointment. Then, hoping to encourage him and let him know she’d welcome an invitation, she added, “Was there anything else, Hector?”
Her question was followed by a long pause. “Not really.”
“Oh.” She swallowed.
“Calling Mr. Sullivan was very nice of you,” he said, rushing his words again. “I hope you’re enjoying your new car.”
“Very much, thank you, Hector.”
“Goodbye, Lillie.”
&nbs
p; “Goodbye.”
He didn’t hang up right away and neither did she. Lillie closed her eyes, willing him to speak, willing him to suggest they see each other again. He didn’t, and after a short pause she heard him disconnect. Her heart sank about as far as it could go. Well, that was that, she supposed. It was probably for the best—although it didn’t feel that way—but she had to be reasonable. His social status was too different from hers and financially they were worlds apart. Hector understood that even if she didn’t.
If she had a relationship with him, her friends would think she’d lost her mind. Well, maybe she had. Maybe she was tired of all the pretense that surrounded her life. She’d loved her husband, but her marriage had been a sham. When David had his affairs, she’d politely turned her head and looked the other way. Lillie had carried the knowledge and the shame that the man she loved, and had been completely faithful to, treated his marriage vows as if they were merely suggestions.
She fingered the pearls at her throat. She remembered the night David had given them to her. He’d stood behind her as she sat at her dressing table and draped them around her neck. In that moment it was all she could do not to rip them off. Although David could well afford the pearls, their price had been too high.
She and Hector Silva were little more than acquaintances, but Lillie instinctively recognized that this man would never cheat on his wife. Unlike David, Hector was a man who took his emotional commitments seriously. Anyone might ask how she could possibly know this about a man she’d only met a few times. But Lillie knew. Call it intuition or whatever you wanted. She just knew.
Feeling melancholy, she sighed, removing the car keys from her purse. She wouldn’t hear from him again.
Lillie left the house to meet Jacqueline Donovan at the exclusive Seattle Country Club. The two of them had been members for years. They’d worked on any number of charitable projects together and been co-chairs of the Christmas Ball more times than she could recall.
When the news came that David and Gary had been killed in the plane crash, the one person Lillie had turned to for solace and advice had been Jacqueline. Barbie had her own intense grief to cope with and her sons to comfort; those three had formed a closed circle in the weeks after the accident. Jacqueline had stayed by Lillie’s side for days, helping her deal with the multitude of immediate decisions. Her love and concern didn’t end there, either. Jacqueline remained her friend while others had drifted away. She was also the only person Lillie had confided in about David’s affairs.
Lillie pulled up in front of the club building and was instantly greeted by a valet. He didn’t give her a voucher. None was necessary. Every employee of the club recognized her and her new vehicle.
“Ms. Donovan arrived two minutes ago,” the valet told her.
“Thank you, Jason,” she murmured and headed inside.
Sure enough, Jacqueline sat at their usual table, glancing over the menu. She wore her hair in her customary French roll and had chosen a Venetian glass necklace in teal and gold that stood out against her black pants and jacket. She put down the menu and smiled.
“It’s not like you to be late,” she said when Lillie joined her. She’d already ordered a bottle of their favorite wine, a New Zealand sauvignon blanc that the club kept in stock primarily for them.
“I answered the phone on my way out the door,” she said, reaching for the menu, although she practically had it memorized. Naturally, it didn’t include prices. A bill would be mailed at the end of the month with the accumulated charges.
“Nothing important, I hope.”
“Not really.” Lillie considered mentioning Hector but quickly dismissed the thought. Of all her friends, she trusted Jacqueline most, and yet…
A waiter came to their table, and Lillie decided on the Oriental salad; Jacqueline ordered blackened scallops.
“So,” Jacqueline said, swirling the wine in her glass. “What’s new with your Twenty Wishes?”
The last time they’d met for lunch, Lillie had been full of enthusiasm about her list. She’d talked nonstop, extolling the idea and describing her wishes—starting with the red BMW.
“The widows are meeting next week. We’re going to talk about our wishes and the progress we’ve made.”
Jacqueline sipped her wine. “This is such a good idea. Ever since you told me about it, I’ve been planning to make my own list.”
“You should,” Lillie said, nodding vigorously.
“It’s certainly given you a new lease on life.”
“You think so?”
“I haven’t seen you look this happy in years.”
She wanted to say something, to explain that the Twenty Wishes weren’t entirely responsible for this “new lease on life.” But she couldn’t; she had to accept that she wouldn’t be hearing from Hector again. Ironically, he was the embodiment of her most longed-for wish—a decent, honorable man. A man she couldn’t have. A wish she might never fulfill. The whole thing was just so hopeless.
“Actually, I’ve met someone.” Lillie couldn’t imagine what had made her say that. She wanted to snatch the words back the instant they left her mouth.
Jacqueline nearly tipped over her wineglass. “When? How? Who? You haven’t said anything about this!”
“It’s just that, well…”
“Yes?”
Lillie drew in a deep breath. “Before you get all excited, let me say this isn’t anyone you know.”
“He’s not a member of the club?” Much of their social life revolved around the country club, although both had plenty of friends outside it.
“No.”
“Why the big secret?”
“It isn’t a big secret. I should never have mentioned it.” Lillie could feel her face heating up. “Forget I said a word.”
“No way! You’re dying to tell me, I know you are. Spill it.”
“I’ve never been on a date with him, so there’s nothing to tell you.”
Jacqueline frowned. “Why not?”
“For one thing, he hasn’t asked and…and, well, I doubt he ever will, so there’s no point in discussing this any further.”
“He’s younger, isn’t he?”
“No! Wipe that silly grin off your face, Jacqueline Donovan. It’s not like that at all. He’s shy and I think he’d like to ask me out but he hasn’t.” She was saying more than she’d ever intended and desperately wished she’d never introduced the subject.
Jacqueline leaned back in her chair and a smile quivered at the edges of her mouth. “You should ask him out,” she insisted.
“What?”
“I mean it. In our generation, the men always did the asking, but times have changed. If you’re interested in this man—this stranger you refuse to tell your very best friend about—then all I can say is that you need to take the initiative.”
Lillie stared across the table at her, and Jacqueline stared right back. “I can’t!”
That went against every dictate of her upbringing. Ask Hector out on a date? It was a preposterous suggestion. An outrageous idea.
Jacqueline simply shook her head. “You can ask him, and you will. Or…or I’ll do it for you.”
At that Lillie giggled. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why is that ridiculous? You’re a lovely woman, Lillie, and a beautiful person besides. You deserve happiness. Isn’t that what the Twenty Wishes are all about? Going after the things you want in life. Places to see, people to meet, experiences to live. Don’t hold back now. Go for it!”
Could Jacqueline be right?
Without some kind of pledge from her, Jacqueline was never going to shut up about this. “I’ll consider it.” That was the best she could do for now.
“Good.” Jacqueline nodded, obviously pleased.
Lillie relaxed, wondering how she could possibly approach Hector. Oh, for heaven’s sake, what did she know about such things? If David was alive, she could’ve asked him. He was the one with all the dating experience. That thought prod
uced a hysterical giggle that she tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow.
Jacqueline regarded her closely. “What’s so funny?”
Embarrassed, Lillie shook her head. “You—saying I should contact my friend and ask him out.” She waved her hand. “I was just thinking— Never mind.”
“No, tell me,” Jacqueline insisted.
So she did, and soon they were both laughing.
The waiter brought their lunch and automatically refilled their glasses.
“You’re going to do it,” Jacqueline said firmly, leaving no room for argument. She reached for her fork.
“I—”
“Yes, you are,” Jacqueline returned. “You want to see this man, don’t you?”
Lillie gave a barely perceptible nod.
“If you need me standing by to encourage you, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Lillie felt a moment’s hope. No, it was impossible. Even if she did find the courage, she didn’t know what kind of outing to suggest. Perhaps a movie? Barbie seemed to be going to the movies a lot these days.
“You’re looking serious now,” Jacqueline said.
“He might refuse,” she blurted out. “I might’ve completely misread him.”
“So what?” Her friend shrugged as if this was an insignificant concern. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“But…”
“Would you stop,” Jacqueline said.
Lillie had yet to try a single bite of her salad. “You’re right, you’re right.” She picked up her fork, then laid it down again. “The problem is, we don’t have a single thing in common.”
“Except for the fact that you’re attracted to him and I assume he is to you.”
“Jacqueline, I am attracted to him. I really am. I go to sleep thinking about him. I yearn for him…” Her face flushed with embarrassment.
“Have you analyzed what’s so attractive about him?”
She knew the answer immediately. “Oh, yes—he’s kind and gentle and honorable. He loves his children and I’m positive he was a faithful husband.” Just talking about Hector was enough to bring tears of longing to her eyes.
“You want him?” Jacqueline whispered the question.
“Not the way you’re thinking.” This wasn’t merely physical desire, although he was a good-looking man and late at night she’d fantasized about his mouth, his hands…. What she felt was, above all, emotional—that need for true kinship, that recognition of another’s soul. She tried to explain her feelings to her friend.
Debbie Macomber_Blossom Street 04 Page 16