Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(35)

“Hey,” Alix teased. “I guess this means your mother’s off her rocker.”

We all laughed. I wish I could say something that positive about my own mother. But I could see she was losing ground. Every time she had another health crisis, she deteriorated a little more. With Margaret consumed by the carjacking and Julia’s emotional state, we hadn’t really discussed Mom. I sometimes wondered if my sister had even noticed our mother’s recent decline. Still, I decided I could deal with Mom for the moment; Margaret needed to focus on her daughter. Unfortunately, Julia had refused counseling, although the doctor had recommended it.

“I’m knitting my shawl for Jordan’s grandmother,” Alix said. “Grandma Turner is this really wonderful lady. I felt so welcomed by her. I felt like she understood me and, you know, she was just as interested in my stories as I was in hers.” Alix smiled in wonder. “Jordan wanted me to meet her, and I was afraid she’d say something about how different we are.”

“Why would she do that?” I demanded, ready and willing to defend my friend.

“Who could blame her?” Alix said calmly. “Think about it. Jordan’s going to be a pastor in his own church one day, the same as his father and grandfather. You have to admit I’m not exactly a typical pastor’s wife.” She hesitated, biting her lip as she set her knitting in her lap. “I get the feeling that his mother would’ve preferred it if Jordan had fallen in love with someone else.”

“I can’t believe that!” I hated that Alix thought this, and I wasn’t convinced it was even true. I’d met Susan Turner a couple of times. She was a knitter herself and had come by the shop for yarn and then later for a pattern book. We’d talked about Alix and Jordan, but I couldn’t recall anything in her attitude that indicated uncertainty toward Alix.

“I shouldn’t have brought up the subject,” Alix said, splaying her fingers as if to release the tension.

“You’ve got the wedding bell blues,” Susannah said with a laugh, but there was sympathy in her voice.

Alix picked up her knitting again. “Does anyone mind if we don’t talk about the wedding?”

“Not at all,” I assured her. I stepped behind Alix’s chair and patted her shoulder.

“In case anyone’s wondering, I’ve decided to give the shawl to my daughter Julia,” Margaret said. She’d joined us at the table and had begun knitting, her fingers nervous. “I’m hoping this will bring her solace and comfort after what happened.”

“How is she?” Colette asked.

“How do you expect she is?” Margaret snapped. “The poor kid doesn’t sleep more than three or four hours at a time. Her grades have slipped and she doesn’t leave the house except to go to school. Some days she can’t even manage that. And,” she said with a sigh, “she won’t see a counselor.”

I knew about Julia’s reluctance to get psychological help, but the rest was news to me, and I felt dreadful. All Margaret had shared with me was her frustration with the police. My sister seemed to feel that everything would change once the perpetrator was behind bars. She seemed to believe that the situation would automatically revert to normal and Julia would be okay again. I didn’t think it was going to be that simple.

“Furthermore,” Margaret added, with a catch in her voice, “Julia won’t talk about the carjacking. No one’s allowed to mention anything about it. If we do, she gets up and walks out of the room. I wish now that Matt and I hadn’t bought her that iPod because all she does is use it to shut us out.”

“The shawl will be Julia’s shelter,” I said quietly. “When she wraps it around her shoulders, she’ll feel your love and prayers for her.” This was my hope for my niece.

“I just want her to put all this behind her like it never happened,” Margaret said.

That was what we all wanted, but I doubted it was possible.

“I wish I’d had a prayer shawl after Derek’s death,” Colette murmured, her concentration on her knitting and the pattern on the table in front of her. She kept her head lowered so it was difficult to hear her speak. “We had a good marriage. And then…he died.”

No one knew what to say to that, and an awkward silence fell.

“Oh, Colette,” Alix said, “I feel so bad that you went through such a horrible time.” She shivered visibly. “I can’t imagine what I’d do if anything happened to Jordan,” she went on.

Colette nodded. “I hope you two will be very happy.”

Alix smiled at her. “We have our future all planned. In two years we’re hoping to buy a small house. Jordan wants to turn one of the bedrooms into a study until we start our family.”

She positively glowed with happiness. It’s a cliché, I know, but I couldn’t have described this new serenity of hers in any other way. I remembered the first day I’d met her when she’d walked into the store, more than a little rough around the edges. At first she’d frightened me, but then I decided to treat her just as I would anyone else.

Susannah picked up the conversation by telling everyone about Joe’s and her first home, a one-bedroom apartment that apparently had a ghost who flushed the toilet at odd times of the night. The mood immediately lightened as we laughed together.