Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(22)
They left soon afterward, stopping at Alix’s place just long enough for her to change clothes. She’d been tired and cranky when Jordan arrived, but no more.
Date night with her fiancé was exactly what Alix needed to lift her spirits and take her mind off the fuss everyone was making over their wedding.
Her irritation was a symptom of nerves, she realized. By the time of the wedding, she’d be past all of that and eager to settle into married life. It would be a piece of cake. Wedding cake! And she was baking her own. On that, Alix wouldn’t budge.
A few weeks ago, she’d tried to convince Jordan to elope. Now she understood how foolish that idea had been. Susan Turner would never forgive her if they got married in secrecy.
When they were back from the movie—a romantic comedy Alix had chosen—Jordan reminded her that they couldn’t put the invitations off any longer. They sat side by side at her kitchen table in the Donovans’ guesthouse and flipped through the huge three-ring binders, hoping to make a selection. Some of the invitations were elaborate and eye-catching, but those didn’t suit Alix’s taste in the least. She thought others were far too frilly and Jordan agreed. And some were just…silly. She couldn’t imagine who’d want Donald and Daisy Duck on a wedding invitation. The simpler examples seemed too plain. In the end, after going through each binder twice, Alix couldn’t find a single one she liked that would pass muster with Jacqueline and Susan Turner.
“What do you think?” Jordan asked.
“I wish I had time to make them myself.” Alix had looked forward to that. Something elegant, individual…
“I wish you did, too,” Jordan murmured, his head close to hers.
“You decide,” she told him tiredly. “Just pick one.”
“Me?”
“I can’t.”
“I can’t, either.” She didn’t want Jordan to think she wasn’t interested, because she was. But her choices weren’t acceptable to Susan and Jacqueline—Wedding Planners run amok, she thought with a sudden grin.
“What am I going to tell my mother?” Jordan asked. He sounded a bit desperate.
Unable to stop herself, Alix grinned again. Apparently she wasn’t the only one afraid to stand up to Susan Turner. Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. Susan was his mother and wanted the best for them. The Turner family had put their very heart—and their bank account—into this wedding, and the Donovans had, as well.
“I know what we’ll do,” Alix said, feeling inspired. “I have a solution!”
“What?” Jordan asked eagerly.
Alix laughed and threw her arms around him. “Choose one,” she insisted. “Any one will do. Close your eyes if you want.”
Giving her a puzzled glance, he opened the first binder and turned a few pages. He pointed to one of the more elaborate designs.
Alix wrinkled her nose.
“That one, then,” he said, pointing to one on the opposite page.
“That’s no better.”
“Okay, you choose,” he said.
She picked out an invitation with Disney characters.
Jordan grimaced. “That one?”
“How about this?” She purposely picked out one she knew Jordan would object to.
“No way.”
“Good.” She beamed him a smile. “We can’t decide and we can’t compromise, right?”
“Well…maybe we could?”
“Right?” she reiterated pointedly.
“Right,” he echoed. “That means…”
“It means we’ll have to let your mother and Jacqueline decide for us.” The wedding was really for Susan and Jacqueline anyway, Alix reasoned. This way they’d be able to choose the invitations they wanted…and they could do it with Alix and Jordan’s blessing.
CHAPTER 8
Colette Blake
Colette woke from a warm and comfortable sleep, dreaming of Christian Dempsey. Alarmed, she opened her eyes, trying to banish his image from her mind. She’d worked hard to avoid any thought of him. And yet she’d forever be reminded of him through their child. Again, she felt torn, wanting to tell him about the baby, and realizing she couldn’t….
Countless times, she’d gone over their last meeting, when he’d shocked her by coming to Susannah’s Garden. The day she walked away from Dempsey Imports, she was convinced she’d never see Christian again. She’d never wanted to see him again. She’d been appalled and angry at what he’d done. But the weeks since then had blunted her outrage; unaccountably she found herself making excuses for him, trying to invent reasons for such immoral, illegal activities. Maybe he had a misguided sense of compassion, she told herself hopefully; maybe his intentions were actually good. Maybe he was helping people find a better way of life….
She shook her head, dispelling that idea, and got ready for work, dressing in loose jeans and a red cable-knit sweater. With her morning tea, she knit another row of the prayer shawl. The knitting was going well, and Colette was beginning to look at yarn in a different way. After only one lesson, she was already thinking about patterns she might one day attempt. Her next project, she decided, would be a sweater for the baby.
The day before, Lydia had shown her a new shipment of alpaca wool as expensive as it was lovely. Recalling it now, Colette immediately pictured that yarn in a cardigan, a man’s sweater, and Christian Dempsey flashed into her mind. Irritated, she abruptly set aside her knitting. She had to stop thinking about him! He wasn’t the man she’d believed he was, and the sooner she accepted that, the better. Again and again, she mentally reviewed the computer file she’d read. There could be no other explanation.