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They watched as Ellen retreated to her bedroom, Baxter close behind. Brandon turned to Anne Marie, leaning casually back in his chair. “You’d make a good mother,” he said thoughtfully.
“Thanks,” she said, but it was a moot point. If she was going to have a child, there had to be a father, and she was nowhere near ready for another relationship. In a few months she’d be thirty-nine and soon after that it would simply be too late. She had no intention of doing what a few women she’d heard of had done—get pregnant via a willing “sperm donor,” a man who would play no role in their babies’ lives.
When the coffee had brewed she filled a mug for Brandon and one for herself before joining him at the table.
“Have you talked to Rebecca yet? My dad’s assistant?” he asked.
He certainly hadn’t delayed in getting to the point, even though she’d explicitly said she’d prefer not to discuss it. Anne Marie let the question slide for a moment as she busied herself with the cream and sugar.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Brandon said with teasing sarcasm.
She sighed, giving up. “The short answer is no. The long answer is I’m not sure I ever will. If she comes forward and acknowledges the child is Robert’s…then I’ll deal with it. Not before.”
“I can understand that,” Brandon said after a long moment. “I want you to know that Mel genuinely regrets what happened.”
Anne Marie shrugged it off. “How is your sister?”
“We talk every now and then. I have to say she seems a lot more serious now. More mature, you know?” He frowned. “When I called her last week, she told me she’s on the outs with Mom.”
That surprised Anne Marie. As far as she knew, Melissa and Pamela were close. Robert’s ex-wife lived in England, where she worked for an international hotel chain. According to Robert, her devotion to her career had led directly to their divorce. Pamela had accepted a position that involved frequent travel, even though Robert had asked her to wait until the children were out of school. She’d refused and left him and their family for months on end.
“What’s wrong between Melissa and her mother?”
Brandon shrugged. “She wouldn’t tell me. When I pressed the issue, she changed the subject. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, but she made it sound like she’s busy with school and she probably is.”
“She’s graduating this year, isn’t she?”
Melissa was completing an MBA program; she then planned to follow in her mother’s footsteps, moving into hotel management.
Robert had always been proud of his children, and he’d often said they were the only good thing to come out of his marriage to Pamela.
“Yeah, she should be done in June.”
“Is she still seeing Michael?”
“As far as I know. He’s a good guy. I like him better than any of the other guys my sister’s gone out with. Some of them were…well, put it this way.” He reached for his coffee again. “Melissa’s made some strange choices.”
Before Anne Marie could respond, Ellen stepped into the room, a pad and pencil in her hand. “Is having a goldfish a wish or a goal?”
“Well, it’s a little of both, I’d say.”
“Okay.”
“I thought you were reading,” she said.
Ellen looked down, a tendency she had when she was afraid she might be in trouble. “I was reading, but then I thought of another wish. I want twenty, the same as you.”
“I only have eleven written down so far.”
Ellen nodded. “Can I put dancing in the rain with bare feet on my list, too?”
“Sure.” Anne Marie grinned. “Just remember, there’s no need to rush. Think carefully about each wish.”
“Okay.” Ellen returned to the bedroom, muttering quietly to herself.
That interruption generated a series of questions about Anne Marie’s Twenty Wishes. She didn’t mind Brandon’s interest; in fact she was grateful for the change of subject and explained in detail what she and the other widows were doing.
A half hour later, after Brandon had finished his coffee, he left. It was eight-thirty, time to get Ellen ready for bed.
“Grandma sounded tired when I talked to her this afternoon,” Ellen said, sliding her nightgown over her head, thin arms raised.
“She’ll be tired for a long time. Heart surgery takes a lot out of a person. She’s going to need plenty of rest.”
Ellen seemed distressed by that. “But—”
“You’ll be able to go home to your grandmother soon,” Anne Marie promised quickly. She received daily updates on Dolores’s condition and everything was progressing exactly as it should. In two or at most three weeks, she’d be back in her own home, with a visiting nurse to look in on her. Ellen would be returning to the only stable life she’d ever known.
Pulling back the sheets, Anne Marie tucked the child into bed.
“Can we say our prayers?” Ellen asked sleepily.
“Of course.”
“Should I say the words out loud or should I just say them in my heart?” Ellen murmured. Most nights she’d prayed in silence, mouthing the words as Anne Marie watched.
“What do you usually do with your grandmother?”
“She likes me to say them out loud.”
“Then do it like that,” Anne Marie said. The child’s simple faith touched her, reminding her of a time when she, too, had prayed. Anne Marie couldn’t remember when she’d stopped or why. She’d just…gotten out of the habit, she supposed.
Ellen studied her. “You’re supposed to hold my hands and close your eyes. That’s what Grandma Dolores does.”
“All right.” She clasped Ellen’s hands in hers and shut her eyes.
Apparently she’d satisfied Ellen, because the youngster began to speak. “God, it’s me, Ellen, again.” She prayed for her grandmother and thanked God for her teacher and her friends and went through a long list of subjects, from hoping she’d do well on tomorrow’s spelling test to thanking God for her new green raincoat.
Anne Marie didn’t want to interrupt, but she was the one who’d supplied the coat, not God.
“And thank you most of all for Anne Marie, so I didn’t have to go to a foster home and amen,” Ellen whispered.
“Amen,” Anne Marie echoed. Her knees had started to hurt and she rose awkwardly to her feet. On impulse she bent over and kissed Ellen’s forehead. “Good night, sweetie.”
“Good night.”
About ten, she took Baxter for a five-minute walk, keeping the apartment in sight. When she got back, the phone rang; it was Elise Beaumont. “I wondered when we’d connect,” Anne Marie said after her initial greeting.
“Sorry to call so late.”
“That’s okay.”
“The last couple of times I stopped by the bookstore, you were busy.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to ask how the conversation with Rebecca Gilroy went.”
“Oh.” That question just didn’t seem to go away. “I heard you’re working for Lydia now,” she said instead.
“Don’t try to distract me. Have you spoken to Rebecca?”
Anne Marie didn’t understand why everyone seemed to think it was her responsibility to confront the other woman.
“You have spoken to her, haven’t you?”
“No.” She had good reasons for not contacting the woman who’d been sleeping with her husband—reasons that were no one’s business but her own.
Why would she want to talk to this woman, who’d likely given birth to Robert’s child?
Chapter 15
Anne Marie tossed and turned all that night, and when she got up at seven, she doubted she’d had even two hours’ sleep. Whenever she started to drift off, she’d jerk awake, unable to escape the image of Robert and his assistant together, arms and legs entwined. Anne Marie had only met Rebecca Gilroy a few times but remembered her well. Tall and curvy, auburn-haired and in her twenties. As she struggled to sleep, all she could see was the other woman with her swollen belly. Pregnant.
With Robert’s child.
Ever since the dinner with Melissa, Anne Marie had tried hard to keep busy, not to think, not to dwell on the pain that threatened to swallow her whole. But then it would come back, refusing to leave until she acknowledged it.
No, she wouldn’t confront Rebecca Gilroy. She couldn’t see the purpose of exposing herself to that reality if she could avoid it.
With Baxter on his leash, Anne Marie walked Ellen to the bus stop, where a small group of youngsters waited, her eyes smarting from lack of sleep. She took her dog home and did a few household chores before going down to the bookstore at ten and officially opening it.
Lillie was there at five after. As soon as she saw Anne Marie, she frowned. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” Anne Marie said wryly. “Good morning to you, too.”
“Is something wrong?” Lillie asked.
“I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No, but thanks for offering.” She wasn’t going to discuss this with one more person, even a friend as caring and sympathetic as Lillie.
Anne Marie turned on her computer to do an inventory check while Lillie roamed the shelves. A little while later, she brought an armload of books to the counter; she was a voracious reader and usually purchased hardcovers. Anne Marie could count on Lillie to buy as many as ten books a month. Her most recent selection included a couple of romances. This was a switch; her friend tended to read mysteries and thrillers. Anne Marie added up her purchases, which Lillie paid for with a debit card.
“Have you spoken to Elise lately?” Lillie asked as she slipped her card back into her wallet.
“She called last night.”
“Did she mention her Twenty Wishes?”
Elise and Anne Marie had chatted about a number of things; however no topic had stayed in her mind beyond the first one Elise had brought up. “Not really.”
Lillie shook her head. “We really need to meet again and update one another. I’ve taken action and I know you have, too. Sharing our lists would be an encouragement, don’t you think?”
Anne Marie wasn’t convinced of that, but arguing about it required more energy than she had. Lillie suggested a day and time, and Anne Marie agreed. “We’ll meet at my house next Thursday, the twenty-seventh,” Lillie said, consulting an elegant little calendar she pulled out of her purse.
Anne Marie agreed to that, too.
“Barbie told me you’re looking after a young girl,” Lillie said next. “That’s wonderful!”
Anne Marie was beginning to feel guilty accepting all this praise. The fact was, had there been any other alternative for Ellen, she would’ve been grateful.
“My wishes are coming along nicely,” Lillie said, continuing the conversation. “I’m taking this very seriously, you know. It was exactly what I needed.” She sighed. “I find myself thinking more and more about the things I’d like to do, to experience.” She placed one hand over her heart. “I have a sense of…of expectation that I haven’t felt in years. It’s like I’ve finally given myself permission to do what I want.”
Anne Marie hadn’t felt any of that. Most of her wishes had to do with recovering from Robert’s death. To sing, to laugh, to dance. None of those had come to pass yet and in her current frame of mind, she wasn’t sure they would.
Feeling obliged to say something, she said, “Did I tell you I bought scrapbooking supplies and a binder for my wish list?”
Lillie straightened. “You did, and I like the idea very much. I’ve been planning to do it myself.”
“You should,” Anne Marie urged. She didn’t hold an exclusive on the idea.
“I think we’d all profit from making a Twenty Wishes binder, don’t you?”
Anne Marie nodded with a tired smile.
Lillie left a few minutes later, carrying two large bags, and the day crawled from that point on. Anne Marie could hardly make the effort to smile. She could’ve phoned Theresa to fill in for her but didn’t. Ever since Ellen had come to live with her, she’d called on her three part-time employees again and again. Since her other two were college students, they were in class on and off during the day. She didn’t want to take advantage of Theresa’s kindness, although she would gladly have gone upstairs and crept into bed, craving the oblivion of sleep.
When the school bus dropped Ellen on Blossom Street, the girl dashed into the bookstore, her eyes sparkling. “I got an A on my spelling test!”
Anne Marie tried to show her how pleased she was and wondered if she’d succeeded.
Ellen didn’t seem to notice her exhaustion. “Can I show my grandma?” she asked eagerly.
“I…”
“You said we could visit her again on Tuesday, remember?”
Unfortunately Anne Marie did. “Sure,” she said, taking a deep breath. Too many promises made to Ellen had been broken, and she refused to be guilty of that herself. Robert had promised to take her to Paris one day. And he hadn’t. He’d promised to love her and be faithful. He hadn’t done that, either.
She allowed Ellen to bring Baxter down to the store, and the two of them curled up in one of the big chairs. Ellen spelled each of the words from her test for the Yorkie, who appeared to listen intently.
At four Steve Handley arrived. He usually worked from four to six Monday to Wednesday and four to eight on Thursday and Friday. He often closed for her, and Anne Marie trusted him implicitly.
As soon as she’d handed everything over to Steve, she, Ellen and Baxter retreated to the apartment. Not up to making dinner, Anne Marie heated yesterday’s leftover casserole for Ellen, adding an apple and a store-bought oatmeal cookie. Her own appetite was nonexistent.
The child ate silently, then placed her dishes in the sink.
