Blossom Street. Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ was afraid I wouldn’t make it in time,” she said, walking through the door.

      “Bethanne!” Lydia sounded delighted to see her. Coming around the counter, Lydia hugged her, then brought out the skein of pink cashmere she’d put aside. “It’s the same dye lot as the original,” Lydia assured her. She stepped back to the cash register. “It’s so wonderful to see you.”

      “I feel the same way,” Bethanne said. “I’ve got a free Friday afternoon next week, so I’ll drop in for the charity knitting session. How’s everyone?” She hadn’t been in two weeks and missed seeing the women who’d become so special to her.

      “Everyone’s great,” Lydia told her. “Jacqueline is still in seventh heaven over her new granddaughter. She brought pictures.”

      “More pictures?” Bethanne said with a laugh. She paid for her wool, glancing around the store. It was easy to see that the little shop on Blossom Street continued to thrive. She loved the new designer yarns and the increased inventory. Lydia had scored a success, and Bethanne hoped her own fledgling business would emulate it.

      “Can I tell everyone you’ll be by next week?” Lydia asked, handing Bethanne her purchase.

      “With bells on,” she promised and tucked the skein in its A Good Yarn bag inside her large purse.

      Lydia smiled. “You look really good.”

      “Thanks,” Bethanne said, and blushed a bit at the attention. She’d gotten plenty of that lately and wasn’t quite sure why. She felt good and suspected it showed. Life felt good. Her world had been thrown into upheaval, and had taken a long time to right itself.

      When she left the yarn store, she saw that Paul had arrived at the café and had a table. He stood when she entered, waving. She waved back, saw Alix at the counter and sent her friend a smile before joining Paul.

      “Angela will be here in a few minutes,” he explained, indicating the third mug on the table.

      “How is she?” Bethanne asked, pulling out her chair and sitting down.

      “She’s engaged.”

      “Angela’s engaged,” Bethanne repeated in shock—before she comprehended his meaning. “To you!”

      “I should hope so,” Paul said with a laugh.

      “Congratulations.” Bethanne half stood to hug him. “That’s just fabulous!” Her instincts had been right, and this news was all the validation she needed. Falling in love with each other would have been easy, but it would’ve been like taking refuge in a safe harbor rather than venturing out into riskier seas. She’d needed courage to take the stand she did. Paul hadn’t wanted to get involved with anyone else, and in the beginning he’d found the transition from potential lover to friend difficult. Time and distance had helped.

      “I didn’t think I’d ever fall this deeply in love again,” he confessed. “In fact, it’s better the second time around.”

      “Oh, Paul …”

      “It’s your turn,” he said.

      “Perhaps, but I’m in no hurry.” And she wasn’t.

      The door opened and a tall, lovely brunette walked into the café. Her eyes scanned the room; when she saw Paul, her face relaxed into a smile.

      Paul stood and held out his hands to her, and Bethanne watched as Angela approached him. Paul kissed her on the cheek and she sat down next to Bethanne. She’d met Angela briefly a couple of months back and it had become obvious to her then that this woman was special to Paul.

      “I understand congratulations are in order.”

      Angela nodded. “We’ve decided on a winter date, and it would mean the world to both of us if you’d plan our wedding.”

      Bethanne smiled. She’d only arranged one other wedding—Elise and Maverick’s—and if this one went half as well … Nothing would give her greater joy than to be involved in the wedding of her dear friend.

      “I’d be delighted,” she told them both.

      “And like I said,” Paul insisted with his arm around Angela’s shoulders, “you’re next.”

      Still smiling, Bethanne shrugged off his words. The divorce hadn’t disillusioned her about love and marriage. If anything, it’d confirmed the importance of family and commitment. Remarrying wasn’t a priority, but an option—something that might well be part of her future.

      In the meantime, she had her children, her friends, her work. She’d rediscovered herself, become the woman she wanted to be, and found new pleasure in the things she loved to do—like gardening and reading and above all, knitting.

      It was enough.

      48

      CHAPTER

       ELISE BEAUMONT

      Elise glanced at the recipe again, adding flaxseed and blueberries to the mix. She’d taken it upon herself to see to it that Maverick ate healthy, nutritious meals. She believed this would help in his fight against leukemia.

      So far, his progress had been encouraging. Maverick was quick to credit her and the meals she so carefully planned. Elise, however, demurred at his praise; yes, a proper diet played its part, but it was love that had kept Maverick alive this long.

      “What are you baking now?” Maverick asked from where he sat in the condo living room, the newspaper on his lap. The view of Seattle was spread out before them.

      “Goodies.”

      “The boys love your goodies, you know.”

      Elise grinned. He wasn’t referring to their grandsons, although Luke and John were quite impressed with her baking skills. The minute they walked into the condo they went directly to the cookie jar, anticipating a treat.

      “What time will the boys get here?” she asked, and slid the muffin tin into the preheated oven. These “boys” were Maverick’s cronies, who stopped by two and sometimes three times a week for a friendly game of poker. He’d met them at the local poker parlor where he’d first played in order to win a slot in the tournament.

      “They’ll be here at three,” he said. He was apparently well-known in the gambling world. His initial failures, during their marriage, had made her angry and fearful. In her fear—and self-righteousness—Elise had preferred to think of him as living from hand to mouth. In reality, he’d become a success. But he didn’t encourage anyone else to choose the life he’d lived, and in fact, dissuaded others from becoming professional gamblers. In retrospect he wished he’d made a different choice.

      Elise joined her husband in the living room and sat on the arm of his chair. He held her around the waist and sighed, his eyes closing. He was tired, she knew. A session of tests at the doctor’s office that day had drained him, but the most recent news had bolstered both their spirits. The progression of the leukemia had slowed considerably. They’d gotten a reprieve. Elise didn’t know how long this would continue, but she figured every single day with him was СКАЧАТЬ