Blossom Street

“I like this,” Alix said and held up the jean skirt.

“I thought you would.”

“You can’t wear jeans to a fancy restaurant,” Jacqueline objected.

“It’s not the same as regular jeans,” Tammie Lee explained.

While they discussed what could be considered proper attire for a real restaurant, Alix drank her Coke, complete with floating peanuts.

An hour later, after she’d tried on several outfits, the three of them headed to the mall in two separate cars—Alix, still riding with Jacqueline. Inside one of the major department stores, Jacqueline sat and waited, while Tammie Lee carried outfit after outfit into the dressing room. Some of them Alix rejected out of hand, but a few showed real possibility. In the end, she chose a long black skirt and a white silk blouse with a swooping neckline and cuffs that buttoned at the wrist.

It was noon, and by then Alix was starved. She would’ve been happy with a hamburger, but Jacqueline suggested a sit-down place inside the mall. She insisted they try the delicate finger sandwiches with ultra-thin slices of cucumber. Alix ate her sandwich in two bites and had several more. She could’ve eaten out for a week on what Jacqueline paid for lunch. No wonder society women were so thin.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m exhausted,” Jacqueline said. “I just might let you two carry on without me.”

“You go home and put your feet up,” Tammie Lee told her. “I’ll take over from here if that’s okay with Alix.”

“But I do want to see Alix when you’re all finished with her.”

“I’ll call you myself,” Tammie Lee promised.

Left to their own devices, Tammie Lee and Alix made fast work of the remainder of their purchases, which included shoes and a silver necklace—all at Jacqueline’s expense. Alix would never have guessed how much she’d like Jacqueline’s daughter-in-law. Tammie Lee was fun and sweet and the nicest person she’d met in her entire life. Frankly, she didn’t know what Jacqueline found so disagreeable about her.

They stopped for a Coke at a fast-food restaurant in the food court. Because she was still hungry, Alix ordered a cheeseburger and fries to go with it.

Tammie Lee took one look at her and burst into giggles. “Make that two of everything.”

“I’m not going back to the same hairdresser.” Alix wanted that understood in case Jacqueline had forgotten her previous reaction to Ms. Desiree.

“I don’t blame you,” Tammie Lee said in a whisper. “Jacqueline wanted me to make an appointment with Desiree. So I did, shortly after Paul and I were married.”

“Did you come out looking like one of the Brady Bunch?”

“No,” she said with a silly grin, “I looked more like Don King. Every time Paul saw me, he laughed. I thought I’d die of pure mortification.”

Their order was ready, and they found a table in the middle of the seating area.

“Tell me about you and Paul,” Alix said as she unwrapped her cheeseburger.

“Oh, Alix.” Tammie Lee gave a breathy sigh. “I don’t know where to start. I never thought I’d leave Louisiana, but it’s amazing what a woman will do for love.” Her expression was dreamy. “I discovered it didn’t matter where I lived, as long as I could be with Paul. The heart takes on a will of its own, if you know what I mean?”

Alix did understand. The fact that she was in this mall was proof of that.

“If you don’t object, I’ll do your hair for you,” Tammie Lee offered.

“You will?”

“I might not have all the training Desiree does, but I’m fairly good. All my friends let me do their hair for proms and such.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“It’ll be fun.”

When Tammie Lee drove back to the house, Paul had returned from the golf course. He sat in front of the television with an empty plate in his lap and a milk glass on the end table.

“Hi, Tam,” he said and smiled at Alix. He jumped up from his chair and took the packages from Tammie Lee’s hands, kissing his wife on the cheek. “How’d the shopping go?”

“Great. This is Alix, your mother’s friend and now mine.”

“Hello, Alix.” Paul gave her the once-over, as if he wasn’t sure she was for real. “You and my mother are friends?”

“Yeah, we met in the knitting class.”

“Oh, right.” He nodded. “I remember….”

“I’m going to do Alix’s hair. She’s got a hot date tonight.”

“Sure, go ahead.” His attention had already drifted back to the baseball game.

Tammie Lee was as good as her word. By the time she’d finished, Alix felt like a candidate for Homecoming Queen. Staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Alix had to blink in order to believe the image was her own.

“What do you think?” Tammie Lee asked. “I … you made me pretty.”

Tammie Lee slowly shook her head. “You’re already lovely, Alix, but I have a feeling your Jordan knows that.”

Her heart did a little flip-flop at the way Tammie Lee said your Jordan, as if it was understood that the two of them were a couple.

Before long, Jacqueline arrived to give Alix her nod of approval. While Alix suspected she fell far short of the designer dress and fancy hairdo her friend would’ve preferred, she seemed to pass muster. Tammie Lee hadn’t used anything more than a curling iron and mousse, but she’d managed to arrange Alix’s plain straight hair in a natural wavy style that suited her better than anything she’d ever imagined.

After a moment, Jacqueline smiled.

“Do you think Jordan will like it?”

Jacqueline laughed delightedly. “My dear, he’s in for a real surprise.”

That evening while she waited for Jordan to pick her up at the apartment, Alix nervously paced the living room.

“Would you stop pacing,” Laurel snapped. She was parked in front of the television with a pint of cookie-dough ice cream, which she ate directly from the container.

The knock on the door nearly sent Alix into a panic. She closed her eyes and although she wasn’t a person who’d prayed a lot in recent years, she found a prayer on her lips now. More than anything, she wanted Jordan to see her as beautiful.

Holding her breath, she opened the door.

Jordan stood there holding a wrist corsage in a clear plastic box. His eyes widened as he stood staring at her.

“Say something,” she pleaded. “Anything.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “Wow, Alix, is that really you?”

“It’s me.” Holding back a smile would have been impossible. “You like it?”

“I like you,” he said and handed her the corsage.

This was the first time in her life anyone had given her flowers and nothing in the world could have pleased her more.

40

CHAPTER

“Whether I am knitting for myself or someone else, my passion for knitting enables me to express my creativity and produces a feeling of accomplishment.”

—Rita E. Greenfeder, Editor, Knit ‘N Style

Magazine

LYDIA HOFFMAN

Margaret decided to go with me to the meeting with Dr. Wilson at his office. He had all the test results and medical reports back now, and there seemed to be some confusion about the diagnosis.

Notoriously closemouthed, he did mention casually when I was released from the hospital that he’d asked a colleague to review the biopsy. That news, I suspect, was meant to encourage me. But in my heart, I knew the tumor was cancerous.

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” Margaret mumbled as we sat in the waiting area. It was the last appointment of the day, another sure sign of my prognosis, but I didn’t say any of this to Margaret.

Instead I leaned back and closed my eyes, wanting to block out the world. It was easy for my sister to suggest optimism. This wasn’t her life, her illness, her impending death. I couldn’t help wondering what her thoughts would’ve been had our situations been reversed. I bit back the words to remind her that she’d come running to me with her own recent scare. I was in that kind of mood right now. I could hardly keep from lashing out at the world and everyone close to me. The person who’d received the brunt of my anger, sadly, was Brad, and he was the last person who deserved it. But I refused to dwell on him or the regrets I felt whenever he crossed my mind. I’d done what I had for his own good. He would never know what it had cost me to send him away; I would carry the weight of that for the rest of my life, however short that might be.

My mother was another one I’d strived to protect. Margaret had, too. So far, we’d kept Mom in the dark. We’d concocted a story about my hospital visit having to do with a routine check-up. My mother had been all too willing to accept the lie.

Long before I was ready to confront the inevitable, Peggy came into the waiting area. This time she wasn’t holding that monstrosity of a medical file in her arms. “Dr. Wilson will see you now,” she announced.

I didn’t meet her eyes, although I heard hope and encouragement in her voice. I considered Peggy a friend, but that friendship wasn’t exclusive. She was wonderful to all of Dr. Wilson’s patients. I realized how difficult this must be for her, too. So often, she had to silently stand by and watch Dr. Wilson’s patients lose their battles with cancer. It wasn’t a position I envied.

Margaret was on her feet before I’d managed to put my magazine down and pick up my purse. I was certainly in no hurry to have my deepest fears confirmed.

Peggy led us into Dr. Wilson’s private office. His framed degrees lined the walls; he displayed a few family photos, which were artfully arranged on a credenza. The mahogany desk was polished and uncluttered, with my file set to one side. I’d been in his private office twice before, and each time I’d been devastated by his news. I didn’t expect anything different this go-round.

Dr. Wilson wasn’t in the room when we arrived, but he walked in directly behind us. My sister shook hands with him after a murmured introduction.

Dr. Wilson rolled out his big, high-back leather chair and sat down. He reached for my file, which he brought to the center of the table. He paused and then….

“The cancer is back.” I didn’t make it a question. The tumor was gone, but I was sure there’d be more, growing in areas not as accessible as this one had been.

“Is it?” Margaret asked and to my surprise her voice quavered slightly.

So often in our lives, I’ve wanted to prove to Margaret that I was right and she was wrong. Call it sibling rivalry. This time, however, I’d have given anything to be wrong.

As I’d said earlier, there was nothing to be optimistic about. The disease refused to leave my body. I opened my mouth to announce that I’d refuse treatment. I had neither the will nor the strength to face a third battle. Not without my father.

“Because of your history,” Dr. Wilson began, “I felt it was doubly important to be certain before I made a prognosis. I had the biopsy sent to the top brain cancer specialist in the country.”

I held my breath almost afraid to hope, certain the news would devastate me.

“What did he say?” Margaret asked, slipping closer to the edge of her seat.

“She agrees with me. The tumor was benign.”

“Benign,” I repeated, wanting to be sure I’d heard him correctly. The tumor was benign.

“Yes.” Dr. Wilson smiled at me but I was too shocked to react. “Everything’s going to be all right this time, Lydia. You’re cancer-free.” He stood up and walked over to an X-ray display panel on his wall. He removed two X-rays from inside an envelope and clipped them onto the lit panel. Taking out his pen, he pointed to the film. “This is the first X-ray we took and this is the one following the surgery.”

“Are you saying I won’t need radiation or chemotherapy?”

He shook his head. “No reason for it.”

I sat up straighter.

“It’s very good news, don’t you think?”

I was too numb to agree with him or even nod. Dr. Wilson’s voice faded as the realization slowly came. My life had been given back to me.

I’m not sure when I rose to my feet but suddenly I was standing. I covered my mouth and feared I was about to embarrass myself by bursting into tears. I noticed, to my astonishment, that Margaret was weeping. She rose and hugged me and started sobbing louder.

“You’re going to be all right,” she kept repeating. “Oh, Lydia, you’re going to be all right.”

Dr. Wilson was explaining a new medication he’d prescribed for me and the side effects, but nothing he said made sense just then. I was too happy to care.

Margaret and I both went from open weeping 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 Lee’s doing just great,” he told them. “The baby should be here within the hour.”

“Great.”

“Do you want to come in for the actual birth?” he asked.

“Me?” Jacqueline shook her head. This was a private moment between her son and his wife, and she didn’t want to intrude. Not to mention that births were messy …

“Of course. If you want,” Paul said, his expression filled with excitement. “Tammie Lee said you were welcome to be there, Mom.”

Jacqueline couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her son so happy. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather wait here, but you will let me know as soon as the baby’s born, won’t you?”

“You and Dad will be the first to know.”

Paul returned to Tammie Lee then, and it was just Jacqueline and Reese again. They ignored each other, sipping their coffee and thumbing through old magazines.

“Do you remember the night Paul was born?” Reese asked her unexpectedly.

Jacqueline laughed. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“I was so proud of you that night.”

“For giving you a son, you mean?”

“No … well, yes, I was happy to have a son, but I would’ve been equally pleased with a daughter.” Jacqueline nodded.

“What I meant was, you impressed me with your courage and determination.”

He sounded unaccountably serious, but Jacqueline had difficulty believing he’d ever been “impressed” with her. It struck her as an odd word to use.

“I remember how the other women in the labor room moaned and carried on and asked for drugs, but not you. Not my Jacquie.”

Dignified even in the face of unyielding labor pains—that was her, all right. Jacqueline knew he intended it as a compliment and sent him a brief smile. “Despite the pain, it was one of the best nights of my life.”

“Because of Paul.”

Jacqueline lowered her gaze. “Actually, no. Because of you.”

“Me?” He gave a clipped laugh, as if he didn’t quite believe her, either. She wondered when they’d started to doubt each other and then she knew. It had been about the time he’d begun his affair.

“As we were driving here I was remembering the night Paul was born.”

Reese nodded. “I was thinking about that myself.”

“Do you recall the way you carried me to the car? It was such a … swashbuckling thing to do. I wasn’t exactly a lightweight at the time.”

“Your hero,” Reese teased.

Sadness seemed to weigh her down. “You were my hero,” she whispered and to cover up how wretched she felt, she sipped the last of her coffee.

“But no more,” Reese murmured.

Her lack of response was as clear as agreement would have been. She looked away, struggling with her composure. A part of her wanted to ask why he found her so lacking that he’d turned to another woman, but the pain of it was too great. She feared that whatever he might tell her would hurt even more than knowing he was with someone else.

He didn’t say anything or glance in her direction.

It occurred to her then, sitting in this hospital waiting room with Reese, that perhaps this was the very moment she should say something. Perhaps she should offer an overture, try to bridge this gap between them. She’d loved Reese so much at one time. Oh damn, she might as well admit it: despite everything, she still loved him. Seeing the love Paul and Tammie Lee shared was almost painful for her because she recognized how much she’d lost. To outward appearances she lived a wonderful life. She didn’t need to worry about money, she had a lovely house, her friends were plentiful. Nevertheless, she was miserable and lonely.

“I …” Reese said when the distinct sound of a baby’s cry traveled down the hallway.

Startled, they stared at each other.

“Do you think that’s her?” Jacqueline asked, surging to her feet.

“I don’t know.” Reese was standing now, too.

“Maybe we should ask the nurse?” she suggested.

Reese took her by the elbow and they walked to the nurses’ station.

“We just heard an infant cry,” Reese told the woman, giving her their names.