Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(67)

“Whatever you say.”

Alix actually grinned then. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Colette asked.

Alix didn’t look nearly as confident now. “I don’t know,” she said. “Ask me again next week.”

CHAPTER 24

Alix Townsend

Alix woke feeling miserable, itchy and vaguely unwell. Scratching the inside of her elbow, she sat upright and switched on the bedside lamp. The alarm would go off in another ten minutes anyway, so there was no point in delaying the inevitable. The instant she turned on the light Alix knew her suspicions were correct.

Hives.

She’d broken out in a full-blown case of hives. No one needed to tell her why, either. Stress over this damned wedding. Nothing had helped. Cigarettes certainly hadn’t. Neither had avoiding the issue with Jordan. Or pretending she hadn’t overheard Jacqueline talking to Susan. In fact, she couldn’t think of any solution—except one.

In eighteen months on the job, not once had Alix phoned in sick. Even now, with her arms swollen and her face blotchy, she hated doing it. Not showing up, especially at the last minute like this, was a hardship on everyone. Alix took her responsibilities seriously. Reluctantly she picked up her phone. After making the call she swallowed two antihistamine tablets and went back to bed.

Thankfully, they made her sleepy, and when she woke again, she felt a little better. She took a shower, slathered on some calamine lotion and put on loose jeans and an old T-shirt. Then she caught the bus to Blossom Street. Only she didn’t stop at the French Café. Instead, she walked over to the Free Methodist Church, where she knew she’d find Jordan.

When she arrived, he was on the phone in his office. His eyes widened when she came into view. Alix couldn’t tell if his reaction was simply one of surprise or of shock at her appearance—the swollen face with its red blotches and the calamine-pink streaks on her throat and arms. Cute, very cute.

He ended the conversation quickly and Alix made herself comfortable. Or as comfortable as someone with hives could be. She slouched in the chair across from his desk, trying not to move any more than necessary.

“Alix, what are you doing here?” Before she could answer, he asked anxiously, “Are you all right?”

“Does it look like I’m all right?” she fired back. “I’ve got hives.”

His concern was immediate. “Have you made a doctor’s appointment?”

She knew from past experience that medical help could only address the symptoms. “No doctor can do anything for me.” Even with her jacket on, she couldn’t resist scratching. With a determined effort she stopped.

“Nerves?” he asked gently.

Alix tried hard not to let him know how close to the edge she was but didn’t quite succeed. “Something like that,” she snapped.

“You need to relax.” He reached absently for his coffee mug, which stood by the telephone. “Anything I can do?”

“As a matter of fact, there is.”

Apparently her answer surprised him, because his gaze shot to hers. “Name it.”

This was the opening she’d been waiting for. “Cancel the big fancy wedding,” she pleaded. “Let’s go away and just get married. It wouldn’t be an elopement, but it wouldn’t involve all these strangers. The only people we need are family and a few friends. Can we do that, Jordan? Can we end this craziness and have a simple, private wedding? Please?” she added, staring intently at him.

Jordan frowned. “You want to cancel the wedding?”

“The big fancy affair and replace it with a small sane one.” The itch was too severe to ignore and she tore into her thigh, scratching relentlessly through her jeans.

Her fiancé’s shoulders sagged with what could only be described as disappointment. “Alix, we’ve already had this discussion, remember? We can’t change everything at the last minute. It’d be too difficult and cause a lot of hard feelings.”

“Don’t you think I know it’s the last minute?” she cried. Today was May first; the wedding was in exactly four weeks and one day. She was well aware of what backing out would mean. The invitations had been mailed; people had started sending gifts. Alix hadn’t seen any of them yet, but Jordan had told her about the pile accumulating at his parents’ home.

“I know you’re feeling nervous,” he began.

“Look at me,” she cried, holding out her arms, although her jean jacket prevented him from seeing much. “I’ve got hives from head to foot. And there’s something else I didn’t tell you about earlier, because you’d get mad.”

“Something else? What?” he asked, frowning.

“I started smoking again.”

Jordan’s eyes widened, but to his credit he held his tongue. “Did it help?”

She held out her arms again for his inspection; her sleeves slid up, revealing the red welts and the streaks of pink lotion. “You tell me.”

He nodded. “Guess not.”

“I threw away that pack of cigarettes this morning, which probably wasn’t the best idea.” Still, Alix figured she might as well quit now. With the price of cigarettes, she couldn’t afford them anyway.

“Alix, it’s going to be all right,” Jordan murmured. “The wedding will be fine, I promise you.”