Blossom Street

Elise half-expected Maverick this morning. He knew as well as she did that Aurora intended to take the boys shopping for school clothes. The house would be theirs if they chose to take advantage of it.

Half an hour after her daughter left, Elise was anxiously pacing the kitchen. When the bell rang, she dashed to the front door and threw it open. Maverick was right about her—in one area, especially. Elise had a thriving sexual appetite. She’d supressed it all these years but, beginning the night he had told her he was leaving, she’d given it free rein. She liked nothing better than to take her ex-husband to bed in the middle of a hot afternoon. Her cheeks flushed at the thought. If anyone ever learned about this secret part of her nature, she’d die of mortification. She’d simply die.

She loved how much Maverick loved her. All they needed was each other. And yet … could they live with each other?

Elise was afraid that joining her life with his would end the same way it had before. It was inevitable that he’d succumb to his compulsion to gamble again, and she couldn’t handle that.

Despite her hopes, it wasn’t Maverick at the door. “Bethanne!” Elise held open the screen door. Something must be very wrong, because her friend was so pale. “Come in, come in.”

“I hope you don’t mind me just showing up like this.”

“Of course not.” Elise led the way to the living room. She offered to make coffee or tea, but Bethanne declined with a quick shake of her head.

Bethanne sat down on the sofa, plucking a tissue from her purse. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry and look at me. I haven’t said a word and I’m already an emotional wreck.”

Elise sat across from her. “Start at the beginning. Tell me exactly what happened.”

Bethanne bit her trembling lower lip. “I—I’ve been to six banks now, and each one rejected my loan application.” While Elise listened, Bethanne reviewed the first five banks and the rejections, which were all because she was considered a poor loan risk.

“Then I talked to Lydia, and she mentioned a neighborhood bank that gave her a loan recently. She told me there were things about her history that made her look like a poor risk, too. On paper, anyway. But you and I both know that Lydia’s a fabulous businessperson. She has more financial sense in her little finger than I do in my entire body. But I’m willing to learn.”

“Of course you can learn,” Elise assured her. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Bethanne this upset—not even when she’d first talked about the divorce. “Did you apply with this bank Lydia recommended?” she asked.

Bethanne nodded. “At Lydia’s insistence, I used her as a reference.” She stopped talking long enough to blow her nose. “I just heard back from them yesterday afternoon. After a lot of debate, they decided to refuse me the loan. Elise,” she cried, “I don’t know what to do.”

If Elise had the money herself, she’d lend it to her. In some ways, she felt responsible; she’d been the one to suggest the party business and she was proud of Bethanne’s success.

“How can I help?” she asked.

Bethanne took a moment to collect herself. “Just by listening to me,” she whispered, unable to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I … I admire you so much and I’m so grateful I met you.”

“Me?” Elise blushed at the praise. All she’d ever done was encourage Bethanne. Elise had been a single mother herself, and knew the hardships that entailed.

“Oh, Elise, you’re such a good friend.”

Now it was her turn to tear up. Naturally, she’d had friends through the years, but she’d come to realize that those relationships were superficial. There was no real grief in leaving them behind. Somehow, it was different with the knitting group. Her reserve had slowly begun to dissolve; she even found herself talking about Maverick. Of course, she hadn’t shared the fact that they were sleeping together—that was far too intimate a detail—but she wouldn’t be surprised if her friends had guessed. Until this summer she’d hardly ever mentioned his name.

“I found out something wonderful about Lydia,” Bethanne said. “One time she told me she didn’t owe a single penny to anyone. She was proud of that. All the yarn in her store’s paid for and—until she got this loan—she was pretty well debt-free.”

Elise nodded; she approved of doing business on a pay-as-you-go basis. Far too many young people got caught in the credit trap. It was too easy to use a credit card and pay later. Except that the debt always grew so much faster than anyone seemed to expect. She’d seen it with her own daughter and son-in-law, warned them as gently as she could and then shut up.

“I didn’t want to ask Lydia why she needed a loan. But later Margaret pulled me aside and said Lydia had given the money to her.”

Elise couldn’t hide her surprise. Not at the fact that Lydia had given her sister money, but that Margaret would freely volunteer this information.

“I think she felt sorry for me and wanted to encourage me and I think—I think she wanted me to know what a wonderful sister she has,” Bethanne said.

“Margaret needed the money?”

Bethanne nodded. “She told me her husband’s been out of work for the last six months and they’d gotten behind on their house payments.”

“God bless Lydia,” Elise whispered.

“And she’s hurting so badly,” Bethanne added.

“And now her mother’s in a nursing home.”

“It’s come to that?” The last Elise heard, Margaret and Lydia were researching assisted living facilities.

“She shouldn’t be there more than a week or two,” Bethanne said, “but it’s expensive, even as an interim solution.”

“This doesn’t seem to be a good time economically for any of us, does it?”

“I just hope I can survive for the next few months.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Elise told her. “This business is just too promising to be ignored for long.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so.”

Bethanne stared down at the carpet, then sighed deeply. “I so badly want to believe you.”

“Did you get someone to help you with the bookkeeping?” Elise asked, moving on to practical matters.

The younger woman nodded. “Paul’s been going over everything with me.”

The doorbell sounded and before Elise could answer, Maverick strolled into the room, looking about as debonair as she’d ever seen him. Her heart skipped a beat. His gaze went from Elise to Bethanne and back again.

“I can come another time,” he said.

An automatic protest rose in her throat, but she needn’t have worried.

“No, please don’t. I should go,” Bethanne insisted. “I came because I had to talk to a friend. All I really needed was for Elise to tell me I’m not a failure.”

She stood and Elise led her to the front door. Before Bethanne left, they hugged. “Call me anytime, understand?”

Bethanne nodded. “Thank you so much for listening.”

“Anytime,” she repeated.

“I’ll see you Tuesday.” And then Bethanne was gone.

Elise turned to find Maverick standing in the foyer watching her.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

“She’s been rejected for six bank loans and is about to give up.”

He frowned. “You’ve been very good to her.”

Elise dismissed his words. “She’s been wonderful to me.”

Maverick slowly advanced toward her. “You’re one hell of a woman, Elise Beaumont.” He slipped his arms around her waist and brought her close with a gentleness that melted her worries.

“Oh, Maverick …”

He kissed her and whispered promises that made her knees weak.

“Come home with me,” he pleaded. “You won’t be sorry.”

She refused with an adamant “No.”

“Elise, I need you with me.”

“I can’t.” The minute she was in his apartment he’d find a way to convince her to move in. She loved him. Despite his flaws and weakness, she loved him.

But she still wasn’t sure she could trust him.

33

CHAPTER

COURTNEY PULANSKI

The second-period bell rang, and the high school erupted into chaos as students poured out of their classrooms. Courtney thought she knew her way around the building. During the orientation session, she’d paid close attention to where her classes were scheduled, but now she felt hopelessly lost.

The one bright spot in the day, she hoped, would be Honors English, because she knew Andrew Hamlin was in the class. Not that she expected him to speak to her or anything. But at least he’d be a familiar face.

The bell rang again, and the halls were suddenly deserted. Courtney pressed her books to her chest and looked around, completely disoriented. Eventually the hall monitor found her and pointed her in the right direction. Knowing she was already late, she ran down one corridor and then another to Honors English.

The class had already begun when she opened the door and attempted to slip inside unnoticed. That would’ve been asking too much, she realized, when she discovered the entire class watching her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled at the teacher. “I got lost.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to find your way tomorrow?” Mr. Hazelton asked sternly.

She nodded, kept her head lowered and found an empty seat as far back in the room as she could. Once she was settled, she searched the class for Andrew and saw that he was three rows to the left of her, near the front.

Forty-five minutes later, the bell rang and Courtney checked her schedule to confirm that this was her lunch hour. She dreaded going into the cafeteria. In Chicago, she would’ve been eating with her friends, laughing and exchanging gossip. Here, she’d stand out like a searchlight in fog. The new kid. Friendless and alone.

She dawdled until the classroom was empty, then gathered up her things and headed out. To her astonishment, Andrew was waiting by the door.

“How’s it going?” he asked. His books were tucked close to his side; Courtney immediately noticed how tanned he was—and how cute.

“About as well as can be expected,” she told him. It seemed everyone was moving in the same direction, and Courtney followed the flow. So did Andrew. She stopped at her locker long enough to drop off her books. She was gratified that Andrew chose to wait for her again. “I certainly know how to make a grand entrance, don’t I?” she said wryly.

Andrew grinned, which made him even more appealing, and Courtney forced herself to glance away. “I haven’t seen Annie yet.”

“She was looking for you earlier.”

That was encouraging.

“How’d you get to school?”

It was embarrassing to admit she’d taken the bus. Her grandmother had needed her car and besides, Courtney had never driven it. All summer she’d used her bicycle for transportation and it’d worked out great. But things were different now. Only nerds rode bicycles to school. So it was either walk or take the bus. Given those choices, she’d opted for the school bus but had been the only senior on board.

“The bus,” she whispered.

“I’d offer to drive you, but I have to come in early because of football.”

He’d do that for her?

“Mom dropped Annie off,” he explained.

“I can’t ask my grandmother to do that.”

He nodded in agreement. “Let me work on it. I know a guy who doesn’t live that far from you. If you were to offer Mike gas money, he’d probably be willing to pick you up.”

Courtney smiled delightedly, relieved and a little astonished at her good fortune. This was a perfect solution and she’d pay whatever his friend wanted. Not only would she avoid the humiliation of the bus, she’d have an opportunity to make a friend.

As they entered the cafeteria, she expected Andrew to join his friends. Instead, he got in the lunch line behind her.

“You’re looking great, by the way,” he said.

She’d worked hard this summer and it felt so good to have him, of all people, notice how much weight she’d lost. “Thanks. You are, too.”

“It’s football,” he explained. “I bulk up every year.” He slid his tray behind her as they advanced in the line. “I’ll talk to Mike and get back to you tonight.”

“Cool.”

She chose a chef’s salad with low-fat dressing and skipped the soda, selecting bottled water instead. If there was an award for righteousness, she should receive it.

“Courtney,” Annie shouted and hurried over to her as soon as she’d finished paying for her salad. “Come and meet my friends.”

“Sure.” She started to walk away and realized she’d abandoned Andrew. Turning back, holding her tray with both hands, she said, “I’ll talk to you later, all right?”

“Later.” He nodded, sauntering across the room to join a group of seniors.

“He’s going to find someone to give me a ride to school,” Courtney told Annie, nearly bursting with the news.

“Mom said he should,” Annie informed her. So much for that, Courtney thought, squelching her disappointment. Bethanne was responsible for this. Well, it shouldn’t matter. Instead of obsessing about the fact that Andrew hadn’t come up with the idea himself, Courtney should be grateful—and she was. Just not as happy as she’d been before.

“Annie!” a girl called out. “Over here.”

Annie hesitated, and when she turned toward the other girl, Courtney sensed reluctance. Courtney followed her to a table occupied by two heavily made-up girls. They had various body parts pierced and were dressed mostly in black leather. Courtney felt completely out of place; for their part, Annie’s friends eyed her as if she’d descended from outer space.

“This is Courtney,” Annie said, introducing her. “We met over the summer. Tina and Shyla.” Annie gestured first to one and then the other.

“Hi,” Courtney said.

“Hi.” Shyla smiled; Tina didn’t.

“You trying out for the cheerleading squad?” Tina, the girl dressed entirely in black, asked. Her nose was pierced in five places.

That these friends of Annie’s figured Courtney was skinny enough to make the grade was a compliment, but she knew they didn’t mean it that way.

“Not really.”

Annie frowned at the other girls. “Courtney’s my friend. Come on, guys, she’s new here.”

Tina turned her gaze from Courtney and stared at Annie. “We haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“I’ve been busy, you know,” Annie said.

“With Courtney?” Shyla asked.

Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah. What about it?”

“Maybe it’s time you decided who your friends are,” Tina suggested, “because it’s either her kind or us. If you want to be the cheerleader type, just say so.”

“Maybe I do,” Annie muttered. “Come on, Courtney, let’s get out of here.”

Annie marched off, and once again, Courtney followed. She could almost feel the daggers. She didn’t want to get caught alone in the girls’ room with those two anytime soon.

“You were never really one of us, you know,” Tina taunted.

Annie ignored her and led Courtney across the cafeteria.

They found a recently vacated table, where Courtney set down her tray. “Annie, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve outgrown them, anyway.” But she looked more than a little perturbed.

“I don’t want to be—”

She wasn’t allowed to finish before Annie snapped. “Don’t take it personally, all right? This isn’t about you.”

Courtney shrugged, unsure what to say.

Annie frowned as the two of them sat alone at the end of a table. After they’d eaten their salads, Annie took out an apple and munched on that, but they barely exchanged another word.

“I’ll see you later?” Courtney asked when the bell rang.

“I guess.” Annie didn’t sound too enthusiastic about it, though.

When Annie left, Courtney returned her tray to the kitchen area, where she saw two other girls with their heads together, whispering and looking at her. She recognized Shelly and Melanie, Andrew’s supposed girlfriend and her sidekick. She wanted to wave and let them know she realized they were talking about her, but decided it was better, not to mention easier, just to ignore them.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. She wasn’t late for any other classes and that, at least, was an improvement. Still, her stomach was in knots when school was over and she headed to the bus line. She hoped the ride situation would work out with that friend of Andrew’s.

As she climbed onto the bus, Courtney saw Annie with the two discontented girls from the cafeteria. They stood in a tight circle talking. No one was smiling.

“You getting on or not?” the guy behind Courtney asked when she paused on the steps.

“Sorry,” she murmured, hurrying into the bus. As she took her seat, she looked out the side window and saw Andrew talking to Melanie. He had his arm around her waist and she was gazing up at him with wide-eyed wonder. It was enough to make Courtney puke. Leaning against the window, she closed her eyes. She’d do her best to get through this year; there was no other alternative.

She had no expectations and apparently no friends.

34

CHAPTER

ELISE BEAUMONT

Elise’s disillusion came soon after school started for her grandsons. She’d expected it all along, knew Maverick wouldn’t be able to stay away from gambling. The entire time he’d been in Seattle she’d been waiting, listening, expecting the worst. If she was surprised by anything, it was that Maverick had held out as long as he did. She learned the truth the day her book club met.

“Your father said he’d be by to drive me to the library this afternoon,” Elise told Aurora after she’d waited as long as she could. Until now, Maverick had always been punctual. She’d known it was a mistake to rely on him, but it had been too hard to resist. Now she had to scurry in order to make the book club meeting.

“I’m sure he has a perfectly good explanation,” her daughter said, ever eager to defend her father.

Still the niggling doubts had begun to form. Maverick mysteriously disappeared for several hours once a week. He swore he hadn’t been gambling, but he hadn’t felt inclined to enlighten her as to where he spent his time, either. She hadn’t pressed him; she knew it was because she was afraid of what she’d find out.

Elise had other worries, too. Aurora had been acting differently toward Maverick. She hadn’t been able to put her finger on exactly how the father-daughter relationship had changed, but it had. She’d noticed it a few weeks ago—whispered conversations, intercepted glances, a sense of confidences shared. Elise felt excluded, although she tried not to.

Aurora offered to drive her, but Elise declined. “I’ll take the bus. It’s not a problem,” Elise murmured. Her daughter was right about Maverick. He probably did have a credible excuse, only Elise supposed that was exactly what it would be. An excuse. A lie …

“I’m sure Dad’ll be there to pick you up,” Aurora said as she walked Elise to the front door.

She nodded, but she suspected otherwise. During the bus trip, she tried—unsuccessfully—to forget her fears. She got off automatically and transferred to the second bus. After all these years of traveling by Metro, Elise knew the schedules as well as her own address.

She arrived late, and the meeting itself was a blur. By the time the group broke up, she knew it had been pointless to attend. She hadn’t been able to concentrate, and contributed little to the discussion.

Her doubts and suspicions regarding Maverick were simply impossible to ignore. She knew his history, and yet she’d so badly wanted to believe him that she’d played a dangerous game of pretend. Loving him again had come so easy—too easy.

On the short walk to the bus stop, she passed a number of card rooms. She passed them whenever she took this route but had never before felt even the slightest inclination to glance inside. But now the need to find Maverick consumed her. She wanted to burst into these places, slamming open the doors, hoping to catch him in his lie. But through sheer willpower, she resisted. That was a degrading thing she’d done early in their marriage, dragging their infant daughter into bowling alleys and taverns, looking for Maverick. Praying she’d find him before he lost the money they needed for rent.

The memories bombarded her, and when she stepped off the bus late that afternoon, she was emotionally exhausted. She wasn’t surprised to see Maverick’s car parked in front of the house. She made a decision then: she couldn’t do this anymore.

He didn’t meet her eyes when she walked in the door, which was another sure sign he’d been up to no good.

“Hello,” she said stiffly.

“Elise.” He cast a look toward their daughter, who promptly left the room. “I figure you and I should talk. I apologize for not being here to take you to your readers’ group.” He paused for a few seconds. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, I knew you probably would be,” she said, setting her purse on the small table in the hallway. Her throat was dry as she walked into the kitchen and took a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. Hand trembling, she reached for a glass.

“I’m hoping we can talk about this,” he said, standing not more than two feet behind her. When she glanced around, she saw that he’d folded his hands like a repentant child.

She shrugged as if it was of no importance. Compared to missing their daughter’s childhood—missing their entire marriage, for that matter—this was minor.

“You were counting on me,” he said.

“The bus was fine.”

“Come on, Elise.” He held out his hands. “I hate it when you’re angry with me. I’m not a grade-school child who’s come to you about an overdue book. I’m your husband.”

“Ex-husband,” she reminded him.

“All right, so we’re divorced, but—”

“You were gambling this afternoon.” It wasn’t a question. She knew, and she suspected that was where he’d been every week, although he’d denied it.

“Would you listen for once?” he demanded.

“No. There’s nothing more to be said. You made your choice all those years ago, and you’ve made the same choice again. Gambling is more important than me, than our marriage, more important than anything. I’m not surprised. Why should I be? It’s only history repeating itself.” Putting down the glass after a single swallow, she walked through the hallway to her room.

Maverick followed her, leaping back as she shut the door. Despite her anger, Elise hadn’t intended to slam it in his face. She leaned her shoulder against it, feeling too weak to stand without support.

Maverick paced outside in the hallway; she could hear the sound of his footsteps. “All I ask is that you listen. Please, honey, just listen.”

She closed her eyes. He hadn’t called her honey since before the divorce.

“I love you, Elise. I know you don’t believe that, and I don’t blame you, but it’s true.”

The declaration was all too familiar. Unable to stop herself, she jerked open the door. “I do believe you love me,” she said with great calm, “but you love cards more.” She watched Maverick’s face twist with pain and feared it was a reflection of her own. Unable to look at him, she gently closed the door.

“No, no, you’ve got to believe me,” he pleaded. “I’m doing this for you.”

Elise stood facing the door. That, too, was a common excuse of his. It was never for him, never about what he wanted. He’d squander what little they had on the promise of more. Except that promise had almost always proved to be empty.

Granted, he’d obviously made a certain amount of money through the years—to meet his child support obligations, to travel—but she was sure he’d lost far more than he’d ever won. That was the pattern with gamblers.

“This afternoon I was playing poker,” he confessed. “I wanted to talk to you about it first, but I knew you’d be upset. You get this … this look and it rips me up inside. Makes me feel like I’ve disappointed you again. I couldn’t bear to see it.”

It hadn’t stopped him, though.

“I wore the socks you knit me and felt close to you the entire time I was playing. They brought me luck.”