Blossom Street. Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ been kissed plenty, and had lots of other experience, too. Still, no kiss had affected her like that one. The men she knew tended to be rough and sweaty and urgent in their need to dominate. She’d never known such sweet pleasure from a simple kiss. But then, she reminded herself, this could all be tied up with a childhood dream that had been shattered one night in the sixth grade.

      Even now, more than a week later, she remembered every nuance of his kiss. His hands had framed her face and his eyes had locked with hers. She’d seen his look of surprise—and uncertainty. They’d parted soon afterward, and it almost seemed to her that they needed to get away from each other in order to assimilate what had happened.

      Alix hadn’t seen Jordan since, hadn’t talked to him, either. She tried not to dwell on that. Unsure what prompted her, on Sunday morning Alix had walked over to the Free Methodist church Jordan had mentioned. She stood across the street and chain-smoked three cigarettes while she watched people file in.

      Jordan was right about one thing: only a few of the older adults wore hats and gloves and dresses. Various families came with youngsters in tow, all carrying Bibles. Alix had only ever owned one Bible and that had been so long ago, she didn’t know where it had gone. Staring at the churchgoers, she saw that most people wore casual clothes, but that wasn’t a strong enough incentive to send her inside.

      She’d loitered on the corner, hoping, she guessed, that Jordan would notice her. He obviously hadn’t; she didn’t see him either.

      The music was good, upbeat and lively—not what she remembered at all. Alix had heard church music as a kid and it had sounded like something out of the Middle Ages, but it wasn’t that way now. Once she’d even caught herself humming along and quickly stopped.

      After about forty minutes, she’d walked away, hands buried deep in her pockets. It wouldn’t have hurt to slip into the back pew and take a look, but fear made that impossible. Analyzing her actions now, nearly a week later, Alix wasn’t sure what she’d been so afraid of. The possibility of someone talking to her, perhaps.

      Rather than brood on last week’s disappointment, Alix tossed back the sheets and climbed slowly out of bed. Laurel was sitting in front of the television, an old model with a faded picture tube and tinfoil-wrapped rabbit ears. Her roommate stared intently at a kids’ cartoon.

      “Morning,” Alix muttered as she wandered into their tiny kitchen.

      Laurel ignored her.

      “What’s your problem?” she asked irritably. They were supposed to be friends, but Laurel rarely spoke to her anymore. She’d been sulking for weeks now.

      Laurel shook her head, silently indicating that she didn’t want to talk. Alix had no idea what was bothering her, but she assumed it had something to do with that worm of a used-car salesman. He hadn’t been around lately. For a while they’d been together constantly and then all of a sudden he was out of the picture. Whatever had happened remained a mystery. Laurel certainly wasn’t telling.

      “Fine, be in a bad mood.” Alix reached for a banana. “See if I care.”

      Once again Laurel ignored her. Peeling the banana, Alix plopped down on the one stuffed chair in the apartment. Someone had abandoned it in a vacant lot. Alix and Laurel had come upon it and carried it the three blocks back to the apartment. It was pretty ratty, but Alix had found a printed sheet and spread it over the chair. With a few tucks and folds it wasn’t half bad. No designers would be asking her to make a guest appearance on their shows, but it worked for now.

      Biting into the banana, Alix noticed that the baby blanket she was knitting lay on the floor.

      “What the hell happened here?” she demanded. She flew off the chair to rescue her project. The ball of yarn had unwound and ended up near the apartment door.

      Laurel wasn’t paying her any heed.

      Standing directly in front of the television, Alix glared at her roommate. “I don’t know what your problem is, but get over it.”

      “Keep your knitting away from me.”

      Alix snickered; she couldn’t help it. “What’s the matter? Did it chase after you?”

      “It was in my way.”

      “So you threw it at the door?” Talk about unreasonable!

      Laurel didn’t answer.

      Alix examined the nearly completed blanket, unsure what she’d do if Laurel had caused her to drop stitches or worse, pulled out the needles. Laurel was treading precariously close to a fight. Alix was sick of her roommate’s bad moods, sick of her slovenly habits and sick of her mooning over a man who was a loser with a capital L.

      “Get a grip, will you?” she snapped on her way back to the bedroom. They shared the one bedroom, which made life all the more difficult. The latest rumors floating around said the apartment building had been sold. Where they’d move next was as unclear as the stitches Alix had yet to master.

      “You wouldn’t be so cruel if you …” Laurel didn’t finish. Instead she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.

      Alix felt awful. Sitting next to Laurel, she sighed. “It’s lover boy, isn’t it?”

      Laurel nodded. “He said … he doesn’t want to see me anymore.”

      Anything Alix could say at that moment would have been wrong. Laurel didn’t want to hear what a loser John was. Alix didn’t understand why Laurel couldn’t see it when everyone else did. Okay, so John had a decent job. Nevertheless, he was a sleaze and nothing would discount that sad truth.

      Laurel pulled her feet up and locked her arms around her knees. She’d been overweight when they met but now she seemed to be even bigger than Alix remembered. She’d obviously gained weight since the breakup. Now that Alix thought about it, they’d been going through a lot of groceries lately.

      “Eating isn’t going to help.” Alix strived to sound sympathetic.

      “Are you saying I’m fat?”

      “Not fat, exactly.”

      “Okay, I’m fat and ugly. You think I don’t know that?” Her voice dipped with venom and her greasy blond hair fell forward as she buried her face in her knees. “And mean.”

      “Mean?” Alix asked, her suspicions growing.

      Laurel nodded. “Jordan stopped by the store on Tuesday and asked me to give you a message and I didn’t.”

      A chill came over Alix. “What was the message?”

      “He … he wanted to take you roller-skating.”

      “When?”

      “This afternoon with a bunch of kids from his church and I didn’t tell you…. I know I should have, but I didn’t want you to have a man when I don’t. I’m fat and ugly and no one wants me.”

      Laurel stood and reached inside her jeans for a folded-up piece of paper. “I was supposed to give you this.”

      Alix unfolded the flyer and saw that it announced an afternoon skating party at a rink five blocks СКАЧАТЬ