Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(28)
Matt looked as though he wanted to comment but apparently changed his mind. “Lydia, Brad, we can’t thank you enough for dinner. It was delicious.”
My sister had already reached for her raincoat and purse and seemed anxious to be on her way. I’d lost count of the number of times she’d phoned home, and I wondered if she thought no one had noticed. Or maybe she simply didn’t care.
Brad and I walked them to the door and stood on the front porch while they dashed through the rain to their car, which was parked at the curb. With the insurance money, Matt and Margaret had purchased a replacement car. This one was used and about as plain as they come. Margaret had no intention of risking a repeat of Julia’s experience.
After they drove off, Brad heaved a sigh of relief. “How do you think it went?” he asked.
“Definitely not as well as I’d hoped,” I admitted, leaning against him. He brought his arm around my waist.
“Matt said Margaret’s up till all hours of the night, obsessing over this. She can’t sleep.”
“Neither can Julia.” I wanted to hug my precious niece and reassure her. I only wished I had the words to comfort her and Margaret, too.
“Do you figure Margaret was serious about hiring a private investigator?” Brad asked as we went back inside. He closed the front door and turned the lock.
Before I could answer, Cody came into the living room, overhearing the end of our conversation. “What’s a private investigator?”
“It’s like a private detective,” I explained.
“Can I be one when I grow up?”
“I don’t see why not,” I said, ruff ling his hair. He wrapped his arms around my waist and grinned up at me. I hugged him back. I could hardly imagine how I’d feel if anyone hurt Cody. The thought filled me with such apprehension and sudden fear, I found myself holding on too tightly. I wanted to stand between him and the world, keep him safe from all harm.
Those were the same emotions my sister was feeling. After the attack on Julia, Margaret must have felt she’d somehow failed as a mother.
CHAPTER 10
Alix Townsend
Alix stepped out from the bridal shop’s dressing room and stood before Tammie Lee Donovan, waiting for her reaction.
She wasn’t disappointed.
“Oh, Alix! It’s perfect, just perfect,” Tammie Lee sighed. She covered her mouth with both hands and when she looked up at Alix, her eyes were tender.
Alix loved this dress. She’d picked it out shortly after Jordan had given her the engagement ring. The minute she saw the white gown with its simple, elegant design, she’d known this was the dress for her.
“It’s nothing to get mushy over,” she said a bit more brusquely than she’d intended. Tammie Lee sometimes flustered her. Jacqueline’s daughter-in-law was one of her best friends, which was why Alix had asked Tammie Lee to be her matron of honor. What unnerved her was how the other woman’s emotions simmered so close to the surface. Tears came with the slightest provocation. Tammie Lee possessed an earthy kind of honesty, another reason Alix liked her so much. Besides, it was pure pleasure listening to her speak. Tammie Lee’s words sounded like they’d been dipped in honey. Alix had read that somewhere, and it described her own feelings exactly. But while Tammie Lee had a genuine sweetness, there was nothing cloying or false about her.
Tammie Lee was someone she could trust. And because Alix didn’t want Jacqueline anywhere near her wedding dress, she’d invited Tammie Lee to accompany her to this fitting.
“I hated the idea of a dress with a lot of lace and fancy detail,” Alix said, finally daring to look at her ref lection in the mirror. The white silk dress had cap sleeves, and a row of seed pearls sewn along the neckline and the hem. It cost more than she wanted to think about, but this was one expense she was picking up all on her own. From the moment she’d quit smoking, Alix had put her cigarette money aside for an extravagance, and this wedding dress was it.
“I can’t get over the transformation—from tough girl to…to Audrey Hepburn,” Tammie Lee said, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “You’re going to be a beautiful, beautiful bride.”
Despite herself Alix blushed. She hadn’t thought there was any comment that could possibly bring a flush to her cheeks, least of all a compliment. Alix stared at her ref lection. She wanted to be beautiful—for Jordan. And she wished with all her heart that she could be the virgin bride Jordan deserved. Her past was nothing she felt proud of. She’d never been in love before Jordan, and the sexual encounters she’d indulged in during her days on the street had been meaningless. Tawdry and desperate, without joy or affection. In fact, they’d meant so little to her, she couldn’t even recall names or faces.
She’d told Jordan everything. She’d told him because he had a right to the truth. He’d listened and then assured her that everything she’d done was in the past and forgiven. Christ and His grace had made her whiter than snow—those were the words he’d used, and they’d given her great comfort. In confessing her sins to her husband-to-be, Alix had taken a tremendous risk. But he’d proved himself that day, proved his love.
As Tammie Lee continued to praise the dress, the seamstress arrived with a pin cushion attached to her wrist and a tape measure draped around her neck. She instructed Alix to stand on a raised platform, then quickly and expertly pinned the skirt hem.