Blossom Street

“I wish I could do as well in my job search,” she murmured dejectedly.

Elise arrived moments after Bethanne, and they sat across from one other and compared socks. Elise had knit socks before and turned the heel, but never on two circular needles, which requires a different technique.

“This is a lovely job,” I said, studying Elise’s work. Every stitch was perfectly formed. I felt she was a very purposeful knitter—and I had the impression that was exactly how she went about her life, too.

Courtney was the last one to get there. She rode her bike and parked it outside the shop, chaining it to the light post. I could tell she’d lost more weight. I wanted to say something about how good she looked, but I was afraid my compliment might embarrass her.

“Sorry I’m late,” Courtney said, bursting into the shop like a sudden squall. She removed the helmet and shrugged off her backpack as she took her seat. Within a minute or two she was set up with her knitting, ready to learn.

“How did everyone do?” I asked. We’d already reached the most difficult stage of knitting socks and that was the gusset. In my opinion, the technique has been simplified by the two-needle method, but there are still knitters who prefer the four or five double-pointed needle approach. I know that socks can also be knit on a single 40-inch needle in what is known as the “magic loop” method; personally, I’m most comfortable knitting and teaching with the two circular needles.

I carefully examined everyone’s half-completed first sock and found that my students had done very well. We always went through this procedure, almost a little ritual, even if I’d already seen their work. There was something satisfying about it, maybe because of the way it formally acknowledged everyone’s effort. Sitting with them, I described the next step of the process, then left them to knit.

“I just wish getting a job was this easy,” Bethanne commented, knitting the stitches from one needle to the other.

Elise looked at her. “I’ve been giving this matter of a job some thought. Where have you applied?”

“Everywhere,” she cried, and her voice fell with discouragement. “Everywhere I can think of,” she amended. “The truth is, I hate not being available for my children.”

“Your children are old enough to be on their own, aren’t they?” Margaret said, feeling free to leap into the conversation despite helping a paying customer. “I’ve got two daughters,” she continued, oblivious to my frown, “and I leave them.”

Bethanne considered that for a moment. “Do you feel good about it?”

Margaret shrugged. “Actually, their father’s home this summer and I’m glad of it. We’d both rather he was working, but he’s been able to spend time with the girls and gotten much closer to them.”

“Well, to be honest, I’m afraid to leave Annie alone,” Bethanne said. I saw Courtney give her a quick glance. “Annie’s not … quite herself and … well, after the upheaval in their lives, I’d rather be around to keep an eye on her. It isn’t that I don’t want to work—I do! But at the same time, I want to give an employer my best and I won’t be able to do that if I’m constantly worried about what’s happening at home.”

I remembered how hard Brad found this situation as a single father. Cody was eight this year, and he hated the idea of going to day care, but he was too young to be on his own.

“So, Elise—you said you’d been thinking about this?” Bethanne murmured.

“I have.”

“I’ve given it my best shot,” Bethanne said, shaking her head. “I’ve applied for everything from waiting tables—I’m so grateful they didn’t hire me—to a receptionist for a dentist. And just about everything in between.”

“You really weren’t interested in that job at the dentist’s either, were you?” Elise asked.

“Not really.”

Elise laughed. “That’s what I thought. No one will hire you with that attitude.”

“But I need a job—and soon—otherwise I’m going to end up homeless,” she said grimly.

I knew that must be an exaggeration; still, I understood how worried she was about finances. I wished there was enough business so I could hire her myself, but there wasn’t and I couldn’t.

“Every time we talked about this, you said your only real skill was throwing parties, especially kids’ birthday parties.”

There’d been various discussions about the parties Bethanne had planned for her children through the years. She obviously did have a knack for it.

Bethanne nodded, with a woeful shrug. “Unfortunately, no one’s going to hire me to do that.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Elise said.

Bethanne’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?” she asked breathlessly.

“My grandson’s birthday is coming up soon,” Elise continued. “My daughter’s a talented woman, but she doesn’t have a creative bone in her body. I’d like to hire you to help her with Luke’s birthday party.”

Bethanne immediately sat up straighter. “You mean to say you’d actually pay me to do this?”

“Within reason, yes,” Elise assured her. I gathered Elise didn’t have much extra cash, so I found this extremely generous.

“I have lots of wonderful ideas for little boys.” Bethanne was excited now. “What does Luke like?”

“Currently, it’s dinosaurs.”

“Perfect. I’ll get dinosaur eggs, fill them with prizes and bury them. The boys can go on a dig, if that won’t damage your daughter’s lawn or garden. Otherwise I’ll simply hide them.”

Elise smiled. “That sounds good. And I’ll find out if it’s okay to bury the eggs.”

“I know!” Bethanne said happily. “I could make a dinosaur cake, too—it can’t be that hard. Luke’s probably way beyond Barney, but I’ll bet he’d enjoy a purple cake.”

Last year about this time, I’d knit Cody a sweater with a big dinosaur on the front and he’d loved it so much, he’d slept with it on. The memory brought a twinge of pain that I did my best to ignore.

“I’d be happy to help with the party,” Bethanne said, but then her enthusiasm dwindled. “It’s just that I don’t think I’d be able to support myself by throwing kids’ birthday parties.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Elise said again.

“Amelia’s about to have her first birthday, and I know Jacqueline’s hoping to make an event of it,” I threw in for good measure. “I’m sure if you approached her with a few ideas, she’d hire you.”

“Do you really think so?” Bethanne looked around the table for encouragement. Everyone nodded and made encouraging remarks—even Margaret.

“I know so.” I’d never seen Bethanne more animated. Jacqueline had the money to pay for something really special, too. “Call her. I’ll give you her number.”

“I will,” Bethanne promised. Her needles clicked energetically as she started describing possibilities for little Amelia’s party. “How about a teddy bears’ picnic? Or a storytelling party? Or—”

Margaret walked over with the phone number written on a sheet of paper. My sister is nothing if not efficient.

“I can help you,” Courtney offered. “I mean, if you need an assistant, and Annie and Andrew are busy. Most days I have a bunch of free time and you wouldn’t have to pay me or anything.”

Bethanne’s eyes filled with tears. “That is so sweet of you.”

“Honestly, I’m glad to do it.”

Bethanne glanced from one woman to the next. “Thank you all so much. Especially you, Elise. You’ve given me a wonderful idea and I just love it. This is something I’m really, really good at, and I know I can make it a success.” Impulsively she put down her knitting and sprang up to hug the older woman.

I was delighted by her brand-new confidence and wanted to cheer her on. “I was impressed with the music video party you threw for Annie when she turned twelve,” I said. Bethanne had told us about this a few weeks ago. “I can just imagine how much fun those girls had dressing up as their favorite rock stars and then having a video made of them singing to a karaoke machine. What a wonderful keepsake.”

“Or the pirate party for Andrew when he was seven,” Courtney added. “It was so clever to actually bury treasure at the beach.”

“It was fun drawing up the treasure maps,” Bethanne said, smiling. “One for each boy. The treasures were quite elaborate, too. I’d collected junk jewelry, and bought chocolate coins and eye patches. It was a great party. In fact, it was that party that made me realize how much I enjoyed this. Over the years, I’ve helped some of my friends with their kids’ parties, but I never dreamed anyone would actually pay me for doing it.”

“That was Andrew’s favorite party, he says. I mean, he still talks about it.” Courtney grinned. “I wouldn’t have minded a party like that myself.”

Elise nodded. “And it’s absolutely perfect for little boys.”

“Thanks.” Bethanne nodded. “Grant got involved, too. He bought a huge toy parrot and dressed up as Long John Silver.”

I could see that remembering her husband in those better times was making her feel nostalgic.

“I think Elise might really be on to something here,” Margaret said. “There’s a market for this kind of—”

The door opened, interrupting her, and in walked a distinguished-looking older gentleman. I don’t get many men in the shop. There are definitely male knitters, but most of the yarn I sell is to women.

Elise raised her head up when the bell chimed and went pale. “Maverick,” she whispered.

“Hello, everyone,” he said without the least hesitation. He seemed completely at ease in the shop, although not all men are comfortable in such a female environment. “I’m here for Elise.” He looked in her direction and I noticed the way his eyes softened. “I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d give you a ride home.”

“I—I’ll be a while yet,” she said, blushing. Flustered, she dropped a stitch and then did a marvelous job of picking it up again.

I enjoyed watching the two of them. They might be divorced, but it was plain they still had strong feelings for each other. This was an intriguing development—and not something Elise had mentioned. I suppose I’d had an image of a professional gambler and to be honest, Maverick didn’t fit the picture. With his white hair and beard, my first thought was that he resembled Charlie Rich, the country singer. On closer examination, I saw that he was taller and more solidly built.

“Don’t rush on my account,” Maverick told her. “I’m parked outside. I’ll wait there.”

Elise gazed down at her knitting. “Ah … okay.”

The class continued for another fifteen minutes and then gradually, one by one, my students left, chatting about next week’s session. I found it interesting that the entire group had decided to knit socks for men. Bethanne’s were probably for her son. Courtney had said hers would be a gift for her dad. And Elise? My guess was that her ex-husband would receive them.

“That was a wonderful suggestion Elise had for Bethanne,” I commented to Margaret as I straightened the class area. I still felt good about what had happened; it seemed like a step toward real friendship.

Suddenly I saw that my sister was crying.

“Margaret?”

She brushed the tears away, obviously upset and embarrassed that I’d seen them.

“What is it?” I asked, despite my earlier resolve. “Tell me.”

“We got a notice in the mail yesterday,” she said in a voice so low I had to strain to hear. “Matt didn’t know I saw it. He takes care of all the bills, and I just assumed we were managing all right. I’ve cut back as much as I can. I know he has, too, but apparently … Oh, Lydia, we’re so far behind on the mortgage payments that we’re in danger of losing the house.”

“Oh, no.” Every penny I had was invested in the store or I would’ve immediately offered to help.

“I tried to talk it over with Matt. I know he was just trying to protect me, but—but I’m his wife. He should tell me. When I told him that, he said I had enough on my mind without worrying about this too.”

“How much do you need?” I asked.

“The letter said we had until next Monday to come up with ten thousand dollars.”

“Oh, Margaret. I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“I know, I know … Matt says everything will work out, and … and I’m sure it will. I didn’t mean to burden you with our problems—it’s just that it was such a shock….”

Although Margaret tried to sound hopeful, I didn’t have a good feeling about this. My sister was about to lose her home and I couldn’t do a thing to help.

22

CHAPTER

ELISE BEAUMONT

Elise was deep in thought as she tore lettuce leaves for the dinner salad. Her grandsons were at the small neighborhood park with Maverick. Luke and John dragged him there every chance they got, and he was always agreeable. If he’d been half as good a husband and father as he was a grandfather, the marriage might’ve lasted.

Although she hated to admit it, Elise had begun to enjoy Maverick’s company. Relying on him for anything, even casual friendship, was dangerous, as she very well knew. In fact, no one knew that better than she did. But over the last few weeks, he’d managed to break down her determination to avoid him. Little by little, he’d erased her resentment and doubt. He’d done it not with extravagant promises or declarations but through his actions—especially in the way he loved Aurora and his grandchildren. He respected Elise’s feelings, never argued with her or defended himself. He seemed sincere. She didn’t want to trust him, knew she shouldn’t allow him into her life, but nevertheless found herself drawn to him.

The timer in the laundry room went off and Elise dried her hands before transferring the freshly laundered clothes from the dryer to a clothes basket. Aurora was meeting with Bethanne about Luke’s birthday party. She’d loved Elise’s suggestion about hiring Bethanne and insisted on paying the cost herself. She and Elise had engaged in a good-natured argument about it and finally decided Elise would pay for the cake.

Realizing Aurora would be pressed for time, Elise had started dinner. She’d already prepared the sauce and grated cheese for a family favorite that went by the rather inelegant name of “spaghetti pie.”

In a few minutes she’d folded her grandsons’ play clothes. Rather than leave them in the laundry area, she carried them to the boys’ room. Since Maverick’s arrival, she’d stayed away from that room. If she wanted him to respect her privacy, then it was important she afford him the same rights.

She opened the top dresser drawer and discovered that Aurora had given it to Maverick. Instantly she closed it and found that the second and third drawers were for Luke and John’s clothes. She quickly and neatly put away the shorts and T-shirts. Elise knew what she should do next—turn around and walk away. But she couldn’t resist…. She’d noticed the edge of a picture frame in Maverick’s drawer. It was none of her business whose picture it was or why he’d buried it at the bottom of a drawer.

Turning swiftly, she started toward the door, then pivoted back, heart pounding. On the small table next to the bottom bunk, she saw a book Maverick was currently reading, and a coffee cup. But no photographs.

Suddenly she couldn’t stand it any longer. Why torment herself like this? One peek would tell her whose picture it was, and her curiosity would be satisfied. Sliding open the drawer, she stared down. The edge of the frame stuck out from under his T-shirts. The frame itself was silver and slightly tarnished.

One look, she decided again. Okay, it would be a violation of his privacy, but a minor one. Not that she usually approved of such … such subjective morality. No, she’d be honest about this. Looking at the photograph was wrong. But she was going to do it, anyway. She wouldn’t touch it. All she’d do was lift the shirts. Knowing Maverick, it was probably a picture from some blackjack tournament he’d won.

Pulse hammering, she lifted the shirts with one finger—and froze. Her lungs refused to function. The photograph was of her.

He’d taken the picture shortly after she’d learned she was pregnant with Aurora. They’d been walking through a nearby park, and he’d snapped it just as she turned from examining a rosebush. Her eyes shone with love and excitement. This was before the disillusionment had truly taken hold, before she’d been forced to face the truth about the man she’d married. But at that moment, her heart full of happiness unlike any she’d known before or since, he’d captured her image. She’d been a woman in love, a woman dreaming of the future, of her baby, of being a family.

Elise stared at the woman in the photo and bit her lip, surprised by the flood of memories. Of emotions.

“Do you remember when I took that?” Maverick asked, standing just inside the bedroom.

Elise gasped, leaping back from the chest of drawers, hand flying to her heart. She was shocked that she hadn’t heard him enter the house. Even more than shocked, she was embarrassed that he’d caught her looking at her own photo. Hidden in his drawer. In his room.

“I … I apologize,” she murmured, unable to look at him.

“For what? Snooping?”

Mortified, she kept her head turned away and nodded. “I … I should never—I am so sorry. I can only imagine what you must be thinking.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

All she wanted was to escape. “I don’t recall your question.”

“I asked,” he said slowly and deliberately, “if you remembered when I took that picture.”

Rather than answer verbally, she nodded.

“I’ve carried it with me all these years,” he said quietly. “But then it started to fall apart so I bought this frame.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted you with me.”

“We’re divorced,” she reminded him sharply. She didn’t want to remember what it felt like to abandon herself to loving him. She was acutely aware of how close he was, only footsteps away. She smelled the scent of his aftershave, the same brand he’d worn when they were married. She didn’t recall the name but the fresh, woodsy smell wafted toward her like an aphrodisiac. Against her will, she swayed closer, afraid for those few seconds that she’d collapse at his feet.

Maverick walked into the room and stood before her. “I told you this already,” he said. He placed his index finger under her chin and raised her head until their eyes met. “I loved you then. I’ve loved you all this time. I love you now.”

The thickness in her throat made it impossible to speak, so she shook her head.

“I know,” he whispered, “It wasn’t enough—it isn’t enough. But it’s all I ever had.”

She realized he would have kissed her if not for the arrival of Luke and John. The boys burst into the room like a tornado touching down, all arms and legs, fighting and furious. Apparently they’d gotten into a squabble while putting their bikes in the garage.

With obvious reluctance, Maverick broke away from her and immediately took charge of the situation. Elise used the opportunity to escape. Returning to the kitchen, she gripped the counter with both hands, breathing hard. Her ex-husband had been about to kiss her, and that was shock enough, but knowing she would’ve let him made her knees go weak.

Thankfully, she had something to occupy her hands. Elise finished the salad and vigorously stirred the tomato and meat sauce simmering on the stove. She then put on a large pot of water to boil the spaghetti noodles. Everything would go together in a casserole dish, along with the grated cheese.

When the garage door closed twenty minutes later, she sighed with relief; either Aurora or David was home.

It was her daughter who stepped in from the garage. When she saw that Elise had begun dinner, Aurora let out a cry of delight.

“Oh, Mom, thank you so much!” She hugged her mother tightly.

“Thank me for what?” she asked. “Dinner? I try to help as much as I can.” As she spoke, she drained the spaghetti and assembled the ingredients, stirring in the cheese last.

“No, I mean, yes, thanks for that, but Mom, thank you for telling me about Bethanne. She’s fabulous! She had a dozen different ideas, but we’re going with the dinosaur motif.” Beaming, she hugged her again. “Until I talked to her, I was planning to take everyone out for pizza and ice cream, and that would’ve been fine. But for the same amount of money, Luke is going to have a spectacular party that he’ll always remember.”

Elise’s instincts had been right. Busy parents would be willing to pay for a party that was different and specially designed around their children’s interests.

“Gayle from across the street went with me and she booked a party, too, even though Sonja’s birthday isn’t for another month.”

“That’s wonderful.” Elise smiled broadly. Opening the oven door, she slid the round casserole dish inside.

“What’s up?” Maverick asked, coming into the kitchen. His gaze went directly to Elise.

“One of the women in my knitting group needs a job. It’s complicated,” she said, not wanting to go into the long drawn-out story of why it was so important that Bethanne find employment.

“Gayle was so excited she called three friends on the drive home,” Aurora explained.

“I’m so pleased,” Elise murmured.

“You should be. Bethanne told me this was all your idea.”

Elise blushed, and wanting to deflect the attention, said, “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“What are we having?” Luke asked suspiciously. He was the finicky eater in the family.

Maverick peered into the oven and turned to face his grandson. “It looks like worms and blood to me.”

“Maverick Beaumont!” Elise cried, horrified he’d say such a thing.

Luke’s eyes widened with delight as he raced into the other room to share the news with his brother.

“Better known as spaghetti pie,” Maverick informed his daughter.

“Oh.”

Elise smiled and admired Maverick for being so clever.

“I’ll set the table,” he offered.

“It’s early yet,” Aurora said. “Why don’t you and Mom collect a bouquet of flowers from the backyard and I’ll use them as a centerpiece. My roses are beautiful this summer.”

Any other time, Elise would’ve objected and either given the task to Maverick or insisted on cutting the flowers herself. She should have then, but she didn’t.

Together they went into the backyard, where Aurora’s roses bloomed against the high wooden fence. For their first anniversary David had given her an antique rosebush and year after year it had flourished. Now, on this July afternoon, the fragrance of roses perfumed the air.

Elise inhaled deeply. “I’ll get the—”

Maverick stopped her by taking her hand and entwining his fingers with hers. “Let’s just stroll around the yard for a few minutes. Would that be all right?”

“Yes,” she said, barely recognizing her own voice. “That would be fine.”

But it was more than fine.

23

CHAPTER

BETHANNE HAMLIN

“The thing is,” Bethanne said excitedly, reaching for another tortilla chip, “Grant was right.”

Paul frowned. “Right about what?”

“About how I should find a way to support myself. He won’t be financially responsible for me much longer, as he’s frequently pointed out. A couple of months ago, he told me to use my God-given talents to find a job. He was talking about childcare and so on, and he meant it sarcastically. At the time I was so furious with him I couldn’t see straight, but you know what? He was right.”

Paul grinned, and once again Bethanne was struck by the fact that while he wasn’t a handsome man, he was an appealing one, easy to talk to and be around. They’d met for dinner after her first major birthday party, for Elise’s grandson. Because there’d been so little time, she’d had to arrange the party quickly, but everything had fallen nicely into place. The little boys had loved the dinosaur egg hunt, not to mention games like “pin the tail on the dinosaur,” which she’d created herself with Annie’s help.

“Did I mention I got three new bookings from Luke’s party? I’m also going to do one—a really elaborate one—for a lady I met at the yarn store. They all want ‘my special touch’ for their kids’ parties,” she said. She dipped her chip in the thick salsa before bringing it to her mouth. The most thrilling part of all this was that with her clients’ deposits, she had enough money for Andrew to attend football camp. She’d nearly burst with pride when she handed it over to him.