Читать книгу Blossom Street (Books 1-10) - Debbie Macomber - Страница 73

“There’s magic in pulling loops through loops, whether between the limbs of a knitted tree house, or shaped to fit the geography of a foot.”

—Cat Bordhi, author of Socks Soar on Two Circular Needles, A Treasury of Magical Knitting & Second Treasury of Magical Knitting. www.catbordhi.com

LYDIA HOFFMAN

I could hardly wait for Brad to make his neighborhood deliveries and come to the store. I’ve read my share of romance novels, so I can say with authority that if ever there was a romantic hero, it’s Brad. Because I’ve lived with cancer from the time I was sixteen, I’ve been absorbed by threats and fears. But despite my terrible scare last year, my life had never been better and for someone like me that’s a little frightening—as though feeling confident and happy is testing fate, somehow.

I think I mentioned that Dr. Wilson found something on a routine checkup and I was convinced the cancer was back. My attitude was fatalistic. It was during this time that I broke up with Brad. Without giving him a reason, I shoved him out of my life with the flimsiest of excuses. He didn’t walk away easily. I loved how he fought for me, how he stood by me until I made it too painful for him to stay. Then, naturally, I learned I was fine, but at that point, I couldn’t blame Brad for not wanting anything more to do with me. Thankfully he was willing to listen when I came to my senses. Once again, I had Margaret to thank; without her encouragement I don’t know what would’ve happened. That was all in the past now, and I felt so grateful to have Brad in my life.

On the phone the night before, he and I had talked about our Fourth of July plans. He wanted to wait until he saw me before we confirmed the barbecue at Margaret and Matt’s. I always get as excited as a kid about this holiday. Mostly I was looking forward to being with Brad and Cody—and away from work, because I could use the break.

The shop had been so busy lately, which was good but physically draining. I was on my feet a solid eight hours every day. Margaret did as much as she could, but she was preoccupied with the situation at home and hadn’t been as much help. She tried, though, and I was doing my best to be supportive and understanding.

My Friday knitting sessions were consistently productive; Jacqueline, in particular, came every week and spent hours knitting squares for Warm Up America. Granted, she had the most free time, since Alix was working and Carol was staying home with little Cameron. Still, Jacqueline’s generosity with her time and money impressed me.

Then there was my sock class. The women were an interesting mix and I was getting to know them. They were loosening up a bit, and that was a good sign. I love the way knitting brings people together. As diverse as these women seemed to be, in personality, in background and in age, they were beginning to enjoy each other’s company. The class got off to a difficult start because Elise was so short-tempered that first day, but her apology went a long way toward smoothing things over and I was grateful. The tone of the class was set by Elise, I noticed. She’s a natural leader, and while I wish I could’ve been the one dictating mood, I wasn’t.

Just after ten, I saw Brad’s truck in front of the shop. I waited for him to stroll through the door and address me as “Beautiful.” It’s part one of our private ritual—which then moves into my office for part two, a little kissing and caressing. I preferred to do that away from Margaret’s interested eye.

Not that it mattered. She was late—again. It had become almost normal for her to show up thirty minutes after I opened for the day. I didn’t want to nag her but I found it irritating that she’d grown so slack about her responsibilities. Eventually I’d need to speak to her about it, but now wasn’t the time.

The bell over the door chimed and I relaxed. Everything was better when I could spend a few minutes alone with Brad.

“Hi,” he said, wheeling the boxes of new yarn toward me.

“Hey, what happened to ‘Morning, Beautiful’?” I teased. “Did I sprout big ears overnight or something?”

“Or something,” he murmured.

“Brad? Is everything all right?” He wasn’t his usual cheerful self, and that had me worried. I could see everything wasn’t all right; I didn’t really need to ask. The way he refused to look at me was answer enough.

“Everything’s fine—I think.” But he hesitated.

“Is it Cody?” I asked, immediately concerned.

“No, no, Cody’s fine.”

I love Brad’s son. Every now and then, Cody would slip and call me Mom, and I loved the sound of it. If things went as I hoped, I’d soon be his stepmother.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I insisted.

“It’d be best if we talked later,” he said.

“About what?” I wasn’t going to let him walk out the door without explaining.

Brad heaved a sigh and seemed to wish he was anyplace in the world but my yarn store. We’d been involved with each other for a year, and in all that time I’d never seen him like this.

“Forget this later business. Just tell me,” I said again.

“I can’t be with you on the Fourth,” he blurted out.

My disappointment was sharp, but I tried to hide it. “Oh. Any particular reason?”

He seemed to pretend he hadn’t heard me and unloaded the dolly, stacking the boxes next to the cash register. Out of habit I signed my name on his automated clipboard.

“Brad,” I said urgently. “Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

He straightened, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him more serious or less sure of himself. “You’d better sit down.”

“No.” I adamantly refused. “I’ll stand. Just say what you have to say.” I could feel a numbing sensation starting in my feet and working its way up my ankles and calves. I think it was then that I knew. I could almost predict what was coming. I’ve had this kind of conversation twice before; both times, the men who’d claimed to love me decided it was over. Back then, I didn’t blame either of them. Loving me was a bad bet, since my prognosis wasn’t all that good. Twice, I’d faced the possibility of death, and I couldn’t expect them to face it with me. But now …

Brad rubbed his hand down his thigh and swallowed hard. “I can’t be with you on the Fourth because Cody and I will be with Janice.”

I barely had a chance to digest this before he muttered, “Janice phoned a couple of days ago and asked if we could talk.”

I knew Brad had worked hard to maintain a good relationship with his ex-wife. The breakup of their marriage had been her idea, and she’d been perfectly content to let Brad retain custody of their son.

“So you and Janice talked?” I asked when he wasn’t forthcoming with details. “Apparently she had a great deal to say.” From the tightness around his eyes and mouth, this appeared to be an understatement.

Brad’s shoulders rose in a deep sigh. “She’s done a lot of thinking in the last few months and realizes she made a mistake when she left Cody and me.”

“A little late for that, isn’t it?”

Brad didn’t answer right away. “She wants another chance.”

I laughed, hardly able to believe Brad would seriously consider taking back his ex. “I’d say that’s mighty convenient, wouldn’t you?” I recognized instantly what was happening, even if Brad didn’t.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his gaze flying to mine.

“Did you happen to mention that you’ve asked me to marry you?” I couldn’t feel anything other than cynical about this. Of course Janice wanted him back! She was about to lose him for good.

Brad shook his head, but my guess was that Cody had told his mother about our plans to be married. “She knows,” I told him, “and she doesn’t like it. She’s toying with you. Now that we’re talking marriage, she can’t stand the thought of you and Cody with anyone else.” Even if Janice didn’t want to be married to Brad, she didn’t want me or any other woman to have him, either.

Brad motioned helplessly with his hands. “She seemed sincere and genuinely regretful. If it was an act, then she should get an Oscar nomination.”

Naturally Brad wanted to believe that; his ego required it. Any man’s would. “Well,” I said, confused about what this meant for Brad and me. He didn’t seem to know himself. “Are you saying you don’t love me and that you were just killing time until Janice came to her senses?”

“Of course not!” he asserted.

“Do you love her?” I asked.

“No,” was his immediate reply, followed by a brief pause. “I loved Janice when we were married and I still loved her when she walked out on me. But I don’t anymore—my feelings for her are gone. The truth is, she’s Cody’s mother and my son needs her.”

“What exactly does that mean for us?”

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “I don’t know.”

“It looks like you’re about to retract the proposal,” I said, striving for a bit of humor, “and if that’s the case, you’ll have one hell of a fight on your hands, fellow.”

He almost smiled. “I’m not, but I’m going to ask you to do something I have no right to ask.”

I could predict what that would be. “You want me to voluntarily step aside and give Janice an opportunity to lure you and Cody back? Sorry, Brad, I can’t do that. You either love me or you love her.”

“I don’t love her.” His eyes pleaded for understanding. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“No, it’s not,” I argued. “Are you going to be at her beck and call for the rest of your life?”

“No! Anyway this isn’t about me, it’s about my son.”

“It’s too late for Janice,” I said. Surely he could see my position. Surely he knew he was ripping my heart out.

He didn’t answer for a long, long time. “I owe this to Cody. He loves his mother and wants us to be a family again.” Brad closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t bear to see the pain he was inflicting on me. “I’m so sorry, Lydia. I’d give anything not to hurt you.”

“But I love Cody, too!” I cried. The numbness had attacked my entire body now. I could barely function as I turned away.

“I know you do, and he loves you.”

“But I’ll never be his mother,” I said in such pain I thought I’d be physically ill. Janice would always be the woman he’d loved first, the woman he loved best. Hard as I tried, I would only be a shadowy imitation. Squaring my shoulders, I turned back. Brad hadn’t moved. “I … I guess you’re glad I delayed our wedding plans, aren’t you?”

“No,” he breathed. “Lydia, please, try to understand. I don’t want this—I didn’t ask for this.”

We stood there, he and I, and the room seemed to grow smaller and smaller around us.

Pride demanded that I do my best to put a good face on this, although it took every ounce of resolve I possessed. “Seeing that you’ve made your choice, all I can do is wish you, Janice and Cody a good life.”

He didn’t respond.

“I can’t play this game, Brad. I won’t play it.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“But it can be. It will be. After a while, Janice will realize she’s made yet another mistake and she’ll want her independence once again. Only I won’t be here.”

“What are you saying? All I’m asking—”

“For whatever reason, you want to give Janice another chance,” I broke in. “For Cody’s sake or your own, I’m not sure. That’s your decision, but I can’t let you in and out of my life on her whim.”

“I don’t know what’s right anymore,” he shouted.

“I don’t, either,” I told him. “But apparently I’m second-best now.” It was difficult to maintain my composure. “Does she want to move back in with you? Is that it?”

“No.” Brad shook his head. “She’ll keep her place and I’ll keep mine. We haven’t made any other decisions. I couldn’t do that until I talked to you.”

This was supposed to cheer me up? If so, it hadn’t worked. Brad was obviously deluded about his ex-wife’s motivations. I knew Janice loved Cody. We’d talked several times, Janice and I, over the past months, and she’d made it perfectly clear that despite her maternal connection with Cody, she didn’t want the demands of a husband and family. I was completely dumbfounded by this sudden change of heart.

“I love you,” I said, and my voice trembled so badly it was hard to speak, “but I can’t and won’t play tug-of-war with Janice over you and Cody. You can’t ask me to share your life one minute, and then the next want me to step aside while you test the waters with your ex. I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

He didn’t respond but I could see that his teeth were clenched, his jaw rigid. “I’ll do what I can to switch routes so we won’t have to see each other.”

“Thank you.” I was surprised by how calm I sounded, because on the inside I was crumbling.

“I’m sorry, Lydia.”

I looked away, unwilling to let him witness the pain I was in.

The man I loved turned and walked out of my life. The instant the door closed, I fell into a chair and covered my face with both hands. I took deep, shuddering breaths as I struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Moments earlier, I’d been anticipating our Fourth of July barbecue with Cody…. My heart froze as I realized anew that not only was I losing Brad, I was losing Cody. Sweet Cody, who’d taught me so much about love and what it meant to be a mom.

The bell jingled with irritating gaiety. I dropped my hands and plastered a smile on my face, which became a frown when I saw it was Margaret. I said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re late.”

“I know,” she said, without explanation.

“If you’re going to work for me, then I’d appreciate if you could make an effort to be here on time,” I snapped. “Just because I’m your sister doesn’t mean you can show up for work whenever you like.”

Margaret’s jaw sagged at the unexpectedness of my attack. “Okay, message received.”

I stood and retreated to the back room but the trembling in my hands refused to stop. I had to pull myself together, or I’d be an emotional wreck. Unfortunately it was probably too late.

“Did you get out of bed on the wrong side this morning?” Margaret asked, following me.

I attempted to pour a cup of coffee and couldn’t. Setting the pot back on the burner, I turned to face my sister, certain I’d gone completely ashen.

“Lydia,” she whispered, looking shaken when she saw me. “What happened?”

I opened my mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, a low moan escaped and then my body was racked by gut-wrenching sobs. So much for regaining my composure.

Margaret’s arms were around me in a flash, and it was a good thing because I was on the verge of collapse.

“Lydia, Lydia, what happened?” She paused, staring at me. “Is it Brad? I saw him outside and he didn’t say a word to me.”

I couldn’t make myself speak. It felt as if this was the end of the world—my world, anyway. I’d been so happy, so excited. For the first time since I was a teenager, I felt truly alive and normal. I’d found love—only to discover how fleeting it can be.

“I … need to go upstairs,” I whispered after I’d pulled myself together enough to speak. “Can you handle the store for a while?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” I retrieved Whiskers from the front window and by chance looked out to see Brad sitting inside his truck. He had doubled over, his forehead pressed against the upper curve of the steering wheel.

Margaret came to stand behind me. She placed her hand on my shoulder and then glanced out the window.

“You and Brad?” she asked gently.

I nodded. “He’s going back to his ex-wife.”

Margaret turned me in her arms, and hugged me close and hard. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered and I’m sure she was but not nearly as sorry as me.