Blossom Street. Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ she checked ten minutes later and he was gone.

      Aurora watched her closely as Elise entered the kitchen. She put on a fine performance, if she did say so herself. Thankfully Maverick was out of the house, but she guessed he’d be back for dinner.

      “Dad asked me to talk to you,” Aurora said. Elise was setting the table for their evening meal. She included a place for Maverick; her daughter would ask too many questions if she didn’t. David was in the family room reading the paper and the boys were playing in the backyard.

      “He’s gambling again,” Elise told her, in case Aurora hadn’t figured it out.

      “I know.”

      “How long has this been going on?” She was suddenly afraid that her daughter had been in on the deception.

      Aurora looked at her. “As far as I know, this was the first time since he got here.”

      “Listen to me, Aurora,” Elise said frantically, clasping her daughter’s shoulders. “Your father has a gambling addiction.”

      “He’s a professional gambler.” Aurora’s voice was unemotional. “Yes, I agree, he can get carried away, but he loves it.”

      Elise hated that her own daughter couldn’t or wouldn’t recognize the problem. “Gambling is a disease—not unlike being an alcoholic or using drugs—and it’s just as destructive to a marriage and a family.” She wanted to remind her that Maverick’s love of gambling had destroyed their own family, but she bit back the words. She’d said what she needed to say.

      “He isn’t as bad as you make him sound,” Aurora insisted.

      Not wanting to argue, Elise dropped her hands. “He’s your father and you love him. I’m not going to say anything against Maverick—except to plead with you to open your eyes and admit the truth.”

      Aurora’s gaze implored her. “He loves you, Mom, he really does.”

      She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I know.” Maverick did love her as much as he was able to love anyone—but it wasn’t enough. It hadn’t been enough thirty-seven years ago and it wasn’t enough now.

      “He promised me he’d stop as soon as this tournament is over,” Aurora said.

      Elise had heard all that before, too. “And you believe him?” If this wasn’t so tragic, she’d laugh.

      “Yes, I do. He’s—” Aurora bit her lip.

      “He’s what?”

      “He’s doing this out of love for you. To help you. That’s what he said.”

      Elise burst into such loud, derisive laughter that David, who’d turned on the evening news, glanced over his shoulder.

      “Then advise him not to love me so much,” she whispered. “Furthermore, I don’t want or need his help. Can’t you see that’s only an excuse?”

      “Oh, Mom.”

      “I think it might be best if we didn’t discuss your father again.” She spoke as if this had been a pleasant everyday conversation.

      “You’re not going to talk to him?”

      “No. I’d appreciate if you’d let me know when he’ll be at the house, because I’ll make a point of staying in my room or not being here.”

      “Mom, don’t do this.”

      Elise was saddened to see her daughter hurt. Aurora might be married and a mother herself, but that little-girl part of her continued to search for a happy ending. Like every child, she needed her father and craved the security of knowing that her parents loved each other.

      “Grandma, Grandma,” Luke shouted as he ran in from outside.

      “What is it?” Elise asked, crouching down so they were at eye level.

      “Did you hear?” he cried. “Did you hear?”

      “Luke …” Aurora warned.

      “It’s okay. Grandpa said I could tell if I wanted to.”

      Elise frowned up at her daughter. She’d wondered if Aurora was holding something back, but hadn’t been sure what. “Grandpa’s going to the Carry Bean for a poker tournament!” Elise blinked. “The Caribbean?” she asked Aurora as she straightened. Maverick had already broken his promise. One moment he swore he was through; the next, he booked his passage to play in another tournament.

      35

      CHAPTER

      “Knitting is just the best ever hobby! Creative, therapeutic, stress-busting, relaxing and rewarding, it’s the perfect way to both express your creativity and to gently unwind. Make it part of your everyday life.”

      —Kate Buller, Brand Manager, Handknittings. (Rowan Yarns, Jaeger Handknits, Patons, R2)

       LYDIA HOFFMAN

      Margaret had been working a lot of hours at the shop while I made the arrangements for our mother’s continuing care, since I’m the one with the most experience in dealing with medical bureaucracy. I needed to get the paperwork set up at the nursing home first and then I’d organize her finances so Mom could make a smooth transition to the assisted living complex we’d found.

      This time-consuming work gave me a new appreciation for everything my parents had gone through when I was first diagnosed with cancer. Hours of sorting through bank statements, old receipts, insurance information. Hours spent on the phone and in meetings. Hours on the computer. Hours—days—away from the shop. Then there was the time I spent with the real estate agent and cleaning Mom’s house before we listed it. That couldn’t be put off. We needed the money to finance her care.

      It wasn’t until Friday afternoon as I counted out the money from the till that I realized my gross intake for the second week of September was almost half of what it’d been for any week in August. A quick check of my nightly deposits showed a substantial decrease in revenues. I’d known that spending so much time away from the shop would be detrimental to business, but I had no idea it would have this much impact.

      Margaret just isn’t a natural salesperson, nor does she share my appreciation for yarn. I knew all that, but I couldn’t ask anyone else. She’s familiar with the shop and my regular customers in a way no one other than me is. And she’s my sister.

      While I tallied the figures again, a sense of doom came over me. I had loan payments now, and they made a significant dent in my income. I’d wanted to repay the bank as quickly as possible, so I’d asked for an eighteen-month payment schedule. I could always go back to request an extension, but it wouldn’t look good if I had to do that after only the second payment. Although nothing was said, I had the impression this shortened loan period was one of the reasons the bank had agreed to give me the money.

      I sat at my desk, feeling sick to my stomach. The summer months are usually slower, but my sales had doubled from the previous year. Now, not only did they seem to be slipping, I had a huge financial obligation to worry about. There were cost-saving СКАЧАТЬ