Читать книгу The Knitting Diaries: The Twenty-First Wish / Coming Unravelled / Return to Summer Island - Debbie Macomber, Christina Skye - Страница 13

April 26

Something’s wrong with Mom. I don’t think she likes the new house and I think she misses the apartment. I thought I’d hate living away from Blossom Street, but I don’t. April isn’t in my class, but we go to the same school. I didn’t know that. She said I could sit with her on the bus and I promised to teach her to knit. Mom gave me a pair of needles and some yarn and I’m going to show April. I told her it feels awkward at first but it won’t take long to figure it out. She thought it was great that I knit Baxter’s green sweater. She wants to knit one for Iris and I told her she could, but she should start with something easier. She’s going to knit a pot holder for her mom. I knit one for my mom and she really likes it.

“Can April stay for dinner?” Ellen asked Anne Marie the minute they walked in the door Monday night. Her daughter and her new friend had played at April’s house after school that afternoon. The two girls had been inseparable since they’d met on Saturday.

Anne Marie was delighted Ellen had made a friend so quickly. Even better, they attended the same school, although they had different teachers. They’d become instant friends, the way kids did at that age.

“Ah …” Anne Marie had no idea what to prepare. “Sure, April can have dinner here, as long as it’s all right with her mom and dad.”

“It is,” Ellen told her. “We already asked.”

Anne Marie did a thorough search of her kitchen cupboards. She’d gone to the store and stocked their shelves, and she could cook any number of dishes—but she couldn’t decide on even one. That showed how depressed she was; she wasn’t capable of making such a simple decision. Of course there was always the old standby. “How about macaroni and cheese?”’

“We had that for lunch,” Ellen called back.

Well, the freezer was her next option. She was about to check it when her cell phone buzzed. Sorting through the packages of frozen food, she answered it.

“Hello.”

“What are you two doing for dinner?” Mel asked.

“I don’t know yet. Why?”

“I thought I’d stop by and take you and Ellen out to eat.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think that’ll work. Ellen invited her new friend over.”

“She has a new friend already?”

“She does. April lives down the street. She found Baxter on Saturday, which is when we met her.”

“Why don’t I bring dinner?”

This was an offer too good to refuse. “Sounds great. What do you have in mind?”

Mel chuckled. “How about if I pick up one of those roasted chickens with all the fixings?”

“Thanks!” Mel was so thoughtful—and he’d just solved the problem of tonight’s dinner.

“I figured you must be exhausted after last weekend.”

“I am.” The move had taken more out of Anne Marie than she’d realized. That, and what she’d learned about Tim’s feelings toward her.

As soon as she’d closed her cell, she walked down the hall to Ellen’s room, where the girls were playing with Baxter and Iris. “Mel’s coming by with dinner. He’s bringing chicken. Would you two set the table?”

Ellen and April exchanged a glance. “Who’s Mel?” April asked.

“He’s my mother’s boyfriend,” Ellen replied.

“I thought Tim was your mother’s boyfriend,” April said, cocking her head.

“He used to be but he isn’t anymore. It’s … complicated.”

“Yeah, grown-ups can get that way,” April said sagely.

Smiling, Anne Marie returned to the kitchen.

By the time Mel arrived with dinner, the table was set. They all sat down together with Baxter and Iris settled underneath, content after their own meals.

“Anyone miss me on Blossom Street?” Ellen asked Anne Marie. She reached for a chicken leg; April took the second one.

“Lydia sends her love. Oh, and Bethanne was in the yarn store on Saturday and guess what? Andrew and Courtney got engaged.”

Ellen’s eyes brightened and she waved the chicken leg. “Can I be in their wedding? I want to be the flower girl!”

“That’s not something you ask,” Anne Marie explained. “You wait to be invited. But Courtney has several nieces and nephews your age.”

Ellen put the chicken leg back on her plate and sighed with disappointment. “I love weddings.”

“I know you do.”

“I was in a wedding once,” April said. “But I was only three and I don’t remember it. My mom has pictures, though. I was supposed to sprinkle rose petals down the church aisle but I ate them instead.”

Anne Marie and Mel laughed.

“Let’s play weddings after dinner!” April said excitedly. “We can be wedding planners like on TV.”

“Okay!”

Conversation flowed smoothly during the rest of the meal. They talked about television shows and upcoming movies, and Anne Marie appreciated Mel’s lack of condescension, his good-humored patience with the girls. Afterward, they asked to be excused and tore back into Ellen’s bedroom, while Mel and Anne Marie lingered over coffee.

“Thank you for bringing dinner,” Anne Marie said.

“I wasn’t here to help with the move like I’d planned. It’s the least I could do.”

“Mel, I understood. You had a business meeting.”

“I know, but I felt bad about letting you down and then there was all that angst over Baxter. I should’ve been here instead of—”

He didn’t need to complete the sentence; she knew he meant Tim. Rather than pursue the subject she let it drop. Her conversation with Lydia had stayed in her mind all afternoon. Anne Marie didn’t want to have feelings for Tim. Mel was good with Ellen, so considerate and caring, and she needed to concentrate on her relationship with him.

He helped her clear the table and was about to kiss her when Ellen dashed into the kitchen. “Hurry!” she cried.

“Hurry?” Anne Marie repeated, noting the disappointed look in Mel’s eyes. “Why?”

“Come and see,” Ellen said urgently.

“See what?”

“The wedding. Come on!” She wore a white sundress and a lace-trimmed pillowcase as her veil.

Anne Marie dried her hands on the dish towel and followed her daughter down the hall. Mel came, too. Standing in the doorway of Ellen’s bedroom, she leaned against the door frame, Mel beside her.

“These are the church pews,” April said, gesturing at the books laid across the carpet in two even rows, with a center aisle wide enough for Ellen to walk down.

“Who’s the groom?” Anne Marie asked

“We haven’t decided yet,” Ellen said. “Baxter’s going to be the best man, though.” The girls had affixed a black ribbon to the dog’s neck to resemble a bow tie. However, he didn’t look pleased with his role.

“What part does Iris play?” Anne Marie asked April.

“She’s the maid of honor.”

“Of course. I should’ve guessed.”

“We need someone who can sing the wedding march,” Ellen said. “We’re wedding planners so we have to arrange it. April and I don’t know the words. All we know is ‘Here comes the bride.’”

Anne Marie was about to tell them she couldn’t sing it, either, when the doorbell rang.

“That must be April’s mom,” Anne Marie said. But even before she opened the front door she knew it wasn’t. Her intuition told her it was Tim.

The way Mel felt about him would make this awkward. Mel, nothing! Her own feelings were as tangled as any yarn she’d ever snarled. She didn’t want to face him, not yet. She hadn’t had time to absorb what she’d learned or the hurt he’d caused her. Still, her heart seemed to speed up as soon as she saw him and she was instantly annoyed with herself.

“Hello again,” she said without any warmth, standing on the other side of the screen door, which she kept closed, aware of how rude she was acting, yet unable to stop.

“Hi.” He held the handlebars of Ellen’s bike. “I brought this back. It had a flat tire.”

Anne Marie continued to leave the screen door shut. “I didn’t know you’d taken it.”

“I promised to repair it for Ellen.”

Mel came up behind her, placing a possessive hand on her shoulder.

Ellen joined them, wearing her white dress but having discarded her “veil.” “My bike’s fixed already?” she squealed. “Thank you, Daddy!”

“I did it this afternoon,” he said, smiling at his daughter. “Where would you like me to put it?”

“In the garage,” Anne Marie told him.

“Come and see the wedding,” Ellen said. “April and I are wedding planners. Baxter’s the best man but he keeps running off. We couldn’t decide who should be the groom.

Will you, Daddy?”’

“Ah, sure,” he said, but Anne Marie sensed his hesitation.

She opened the screen door, walked down the steps and over to the garage, which was located behind the house. Mel went with her; she could feel his disapproval every step of the way. No one spoke, which made this all the more disconcerting.

“Will you tell Ellen I’ll play groom some other time?” Tim asked once he’d finished securing Ellen’s bicycle.

Anne Marie crossed her arms against the evening chill. Thankfully, Tim realized she didn’t want him there.

“That would probably be best,” she murmured.

“I agree,” Mel added.

Anne Marie could have done without his comment but didn’t bother to object. At least he wasn’t contradicting her opinion or her request.

Tim had started to leave when the back door flew open and Ellen came out. “We’re ready,” she shouted. “April and I are going to hum the song ‘cause we don’t know the words.” She dashed toward Tim and grabbed his hand.

Tim threw Anne Marie an apologetic glance as he walked slowly toward the house.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Tim,” Mel said, not hiding his irritation.

“About what, exactly?”

“Well, for one thing, he turns up far too often. Do the two you have a parenting plan?”

“Not … really.” At this point their agreement was pretty loose.

“That might be something to consider,” Mel said. “Tim seems to think he can come by anytime he pleases. For obvious reasons, that’s not a good idea.”

Anne Marie turned back to the house. She didn’t ask what those obvious reasons were, but she had to admit Mel was probably right. However, she wasn’t in any mood to hear it. If she limited Tim’s access to Ellen, he’d assume she was punishing him because he wasn’t interested in her. “Can we talk about this later?”

Not waiting for his reply, she hurried inside. The instant she did, she was greeted by the sound of the girls giggling delightedly. Unable to resist, she had to look for herself.

Sure enough, Tim had taken on the role of the groom. He wore Ellen’s black velvet hair bow clipped to the top button of his shirt.

“We need a preacher,” Ellen said. “Mel, will you be the preacher?”

Mel shook his head. “Trust me, Ellen, I wouldn’t make a good preacher.” The ten-year-old’s face fell with disappointment.

“What about your mom?” April suggested.

“She can’t,” Ellen insisted. “Mom’s the bride.”

“Oh, right.”

Anne Marie opened her mouth to protest but no one noticed. Wasn’t Ellen the bride? She most definitely wasn’t willing to pretend to be Tim’s bride. “Hold on, you two—”

“I’ll be the preacher,” Ellen volunteered, ignoring Anne Marie.

“You’ll need a Bible.”

“Got it.” Ellen stood on tiptoe to get her children’s Bible from the top bookshelf.

“Can girls be preachers?” April sounded unsure of this.

“Girls can be anything they want,” Anne Marie assured her firmly. Despite her discomfort, she couldn’t let a comment like that pass unanswered.

“Even a firefighter?”

“Even a firefighter,” Anne Marie said.

Now that she’d resolved that issue, Anne Marie seemed to lose control of the situation. She was handed a plastic flower and the pillowcase was pinned to her hair as a makeshift veil. As the two girls hummed “Here Comes the Bride,” Anne Marie carefully marched down the aisle between the rows of books. Holding her Bible, Ellen went to stand in front of Tim. Mel remained in the background, looking disgruntled and ill at ease.

When Anne Marie reached Tim’s side, he tucked her arm in the crook of his, staring straight ahead. The best man had returned but clearly hadn’t understood his role. He stretched out on the floor, knocking over several “pews.” Iris, the maid of honor, peered out from under Ellen’s bed.

With great ceremony, Ellen opened the Bible. In formal tones she began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together this evening in the presence of God and these witnesses to join together—”

April leaned close to Ellen. “What’s beloved mean?” she asked.

“You can’t ask questions during the wedding,” Ellen told her friend.

“Okay. Sorry.” But April didn’t sound contrite.

Anne Marie quickly whispered the definition as Ellen frowned.

The ceremony took only a few minutes and by the time they’d finished Anne Marie and Tim both found themselves grinning. Ellen’s performance—complete with sweeping gestures—was worthy of an acting award. Anne Marie had gradually relaxed enough to enjoy the charade.

The only person who didn’t appear the least bit entertained was Mel. He stood out in the hallway, wearing a frown.

Shortly after the “vows” were exchanged, Tim kissed Anne Marie on the cheek, then pulled out his wallet.

“What’s the money for?” Ellen asked when he removed a dollar bill.

“The groom always pays the preacher.”

Ellen raised her hand to stop him. “Give the money to the poor.”

“I’m poor,” April said, and held out her palm.

“No, you aren’t,” Ellen retorted. “Wedding planners make lots of money.”

“I guess you should put your money away,” Anne Marie said with a shrug.

Grinning, Tim did as she suggested. When he glanced up he apparently caught sight of Mel. “I’d better go.” He bent down to hug Ellen farewell.

“You need to thank your father,” Anne Marie said.

Ellen wrapped her arms around Tim’s neck. “Thank you again for fixing my bike and for being the groom and for everything,” she said in a breathless voice.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Can we go bike riding again soon?”

“Sure. I’ll set a time with your mother.”

When Anne Marie escorted him to the front door, Tim held her look for a moment, then raised his eyes to meet Mel’s, who stood directly behind her. “Does next Saturday work for you? I can pick Ellen up around ten.”

“We have plans for Saturday,” Mel inserted without allowing Anne Marie the opportunity to respond.

She ignored him. “Saturday morning will be fine, Tim. I’ll have Ellen ready by ten.”

His expression uncertain, Tim nodded. “Okay. See you then.”

“Bye,” she said, closing the door. Neither man had addressed the other again. She took a deep breath to compose herself, then turned deliberately to Mel. “What was that about?” she snapped.

Mel didn’t pretend not to know what she meant. “I’ve told you. I don’t like the idea of Tim spending so much time with you and Ellen. Besides, we did discuss going for brunch.”

She was in no state to deal with his insecurities and frankly she was a little unsettled by the make-believe wedding. “I think you might be making an assumption regarding our relationship, Mel. We’re good friends—”

“Friends?” he repeated, breaking in. “We’ve been dating exclusively for the past six months. Correction, I’ve been dating you exclusively. And yet Tim is still in your life.”

“Ellen’s his daughter!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be involved with him.”

Anne Marie expelled her breath and walked into the kitchen. They had to lower their voices, otherwise the girls might hear. “I don’t want to argue about Tim.”

“I don’t either, but I need to find out where I stand with you. Just tell me flat-out—am I wasting my time here? I know you cared about Tim at one point.”

“That’s over,” she said immediately. “I told you before.”

“Is it, Anne Marie?”

“Yes …” But she didn’t sound nearly as emphatic as she wanted to.

“I think that tells me everything I need to know.”

Anne Marie felt terrible.

Calling goodbye to the girls, Mel started toward the front door. She stopped him. “Don’t go,” she whispered, her hand on his forearm.

He hesitated.

“Please.”

Mel exhaled slowly as though undecided.

Anne Marie slid her arms around his middle and hugged him close. Mel was solid and warm, and she knew exactly where she stood with him. Tim was like shifting sand, not to be trusted. Eventually her heart would align itself with Mel’s.