Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(36)

I was always surprised by how quickly class time passed. It was the fastest hour of my day—of my week, in fact. Margaret needed to leave early, so I told her I’d close the shop alone. Brad was stopping by to pick me up on his way home. Normally we don’t carpool because he has to be at work a couple of hours before I do, but he had a doctor’s appointment this morning, so he drove me in.

I cuddled Whiskers before I locked up and then opened the door to Colette’s apartment, knowing she enjoyed his company. For a while he traveled back and forth to the shop with me, but he’s comfortable in the apartment, which was, after all, his home for nearly two years. After closing the door, I set the alarm. My fickle cat had divided his loyalties. Fortunately I’m not the jealous type, at least not when it comes to my cat’s affections. But my husband—well, that’s a different matter entirely.

“Hello, beautiful,” he greeted me when I climbed into the front seat. “Have a good day?”

Every day with Brad and Cody was a good day, and I gave him a quick kiss—I had so much to thank him for. “I did. How was your physical?”

“Fine. The doctor says I’m a well man.”

I smiled at his reply. “Make sure you stay that way.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

After a brief silence I told him, “I had my prayer shawl class this afternoon.”

He nodded as he merged with the freeway traffic. We live only about fifteen minutes from my shop.

“Margaret’s decided to knit her shawl for Julia,” I continued. “She’s so worried about her.”

Brad glanced at me. “Is Julia sleeping any better?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think Margaret is, either. She can’t let go of this.” My sister’s always had an intense personality. It served her well in high school, when she excelled at sports. She’s one of the most capable women I know; anything my sister set her mind to, she achieved.

Back when we were kids she was the top-rated female athlete in our school district and a star at every sport she tried. I was the sickly, puny sister everyone felt sorry for. It took Margaret and me a long time to start behaving like sisters. Sharing responsibility for our mother certainly brought us closer and so, of course, did the yarn store. I ached for Margaret now and badly wanted to help her. But Margaret was independent to a fault; in that way nothing had changed.

Last year, when Matt lost his job, she’d done everything possible to hide the fact that her family was about to lose their home. I’d been able to help them financially and was happy to do so, but Margaret—although certainly grateful—had difficulty accepting my gift.

“You’re very quiet all of a sudden,” Brad said as he exited the freeway. A few minutes later, we were driving into our neighborhood.

“I was just thinking about Margaret,” I told him with a sigh.

“Anything you want to discuss?” he asked.

I thought about it, then shook my head. “How about you? Anything you want to talk about?” I asked as we waited for the garage door to open.

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Brad said. Cody dashed across the street—after carefully looking both ways, just like we’d taught him. One of our neighbors, a stay-at-home mother, babysat our son for an hour every afternoon after school.

Cody collected the mail, handing it to Brad as we entered the house. Chase bounded frantically around us, and Cody let him out, into our fenced backyard.

“You had something you wanted to discuss?” I reminded Brad.

He lifted his head from the mail he was sorting. “You bet I did. What’s for dinner?” he asked with a grin. “I didn’t have time for lunch and your husband’s one hungry guy.”

CHAPTER 13

Alix Townsend

S aturday was one of those hectic days that sometimes overwhelmed Alix. She’d been with Jacqueline and Tammie Lee all morning, and by noon she was exhausted, although she still had a list of errands to run. Jordan would be away the entire day, taking the church youth group somewhere in eastern Washington to hear a Christian rock band. He wouldn’t return until much later in the evening. Normally she accompanied him, but this time she’d begged off.

She’d picked up some dry cleaning for Jacqueline, bought herself toothpaste and shampoo, and dropped off her library books. Since she’d always been a voracious reader, she spent an hour at the library, checking out a couple of new mysteries, a historical novel set in the Puget Sound area and a travel book about Australia. With clenched teeth she added a wedding guide to the pile.

Anne Marie from Blossom Street Books was still hosting the reading club she’d started earlier in the month. The book for April was the latest thriller by Brad Metzler. Colette, who’d also joined, had already finished it and offered to lend Alix her copy.

It was now midafternoon and she had yet to have lunch, so Alix decided to eat at the French Café, where she got an employee discount. By the time she arrived, most of the lunch crowd had left. She walked up to the counter, chatted with Julie for a minute, then ordered her favorite turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee.

As she surveyed the room, Alix caught sight of Colette Blake near the back of the café. Colette had brought her knitting and seemed intent on that. Alix debated whether she should say hello. During their knitting classes, Colette said very little. She seemed sad and vaguely troubled, although she was never rude or unfriendly. Alix hadn’t really had much of a chance to know her; they’d sort of gotten off on the wrong foot and Alix blamed herself for that.