Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)(86)

Elise used to be an embittered woman who resented her ex-husband, Maverick, for his many supposed transgressions, including the fact that he was a professional gambler. Her life had become more and more rigid in her retirement, not less, as you might expect. But reconciling with Maverick had completely changed her.

In addition to being my friend, Elise was one of my very best customers. When it came to knitting, there wasn’t any project Elise couldn’t tackle. The most complicated patterns didn’t daunt her.

As the time neared for Alix’s arrival, everyone dispersed.

“I see her,” I called from where I stood by the window. I watched Alix leave the French Café, carrying a basket of what I suspected were warm croissants. “Hide, everyone,” I instructed, and all my friends scrambled. I hurried over to the counter.

The three customers in the shop had been told what was happening and been invited to join the festivities.

The bell chimed as Alix stepped inside, then paused, glancing around. I’m no actress, but I did my best to look as if this was an ordinary afternoon.

“What’s going on?” she asked, frowning.

I stood behind the cash register, trying to keep our little secret as long as possible. The plan was to wait until Alix approached the table before everyone leaped out and shouted, “Surprise!”

I shrugged. “What do you mean?”

“No one’s here,” Alix said in a puzzled voice.

“Colette and Susannah will be here in a few minutes.” In reality, they’d been among the first to show up. They had a large order to get out that night and it was a sacrifice for them to be here at all, but neither was willing to miss it.

Alix still didn’t move.

“Go on back.” I gestured to the rear of the shop.

Alix sent me an odd look, and I was sure that despite my efforts I’d given the surprise away. She moved past the yarn—and then everyone rushed forward to shout.

To my utter satisfaction, Alix was stunned. Her mouth fell open and she slowly turned and studied each face. The table was piled high with gifts and food, and everyone crowded around to offer her their best wishes.

Alix always claimed she wasn’t any good in social situations, but after I saw her at this wedding shower, I begged to differ. She charmed her friends and thanked them for their gifts with unquestionable sincerity. The gifts were mostly thoughtful with a few comical ones tossed in. My sister’s present, a toaster, was as practical as Margaret herself. Mine was a gift card for $100 worth of yarn. My favorite present was an oversize T-shirt with an image of Shakespeare knitting a sleeve. “That’s the ‘raveled sleeve of care,’” Elise the ex-librarian explained. “Sleep knits it up again. Isn’t that a lovely metaphor? It’s from Macbeth.”

“In other words, knitting puts you to sleep,” Maverick teased.

Alix laughed and hugged them both.

At closing time, the party broke up and people started drifting away. Bethanne had to leave early because of an “appointment”; I was willing to bet she was going out on a date, but I didn’t question her. I knew she’d met someone, and I was eager to hear the details. I could’ve asked Annie, who’d stayed to clear away the decorations, but I figured Bethanne would tell me when she was ready. I could wait.

At one point I saw Margaret talking intently to Alix and wondered what that was about. My sister didn’t look happy, nor did she seem to be congratulating Alix on her marriage. A while later, Alix moved off to visit with someone else. Then, before I knew it, Margaret had left for the day without even a word of farewell.

Colette and Susannah had to get back to the store to work on the arrangements for a funeral home, which was a new account Susannah had recently won.

Elise and Maverick didn’t last long after the gifts had been opened and the food served. I walked them to the car, which Elise drove. I could see the sadness in her eyes and felt an almost maternal urge to comfort her. These next few months were going to be difficult. Maverick, however, didn’t show any concern for himself.

I understood that, too. He’d received far more love and care in these last few years of his life than he’d ever dared to hope. I knew he was as content and happy as possible, happier than he’d been in all the years he was a champion poker player. He’d been a fairy godfather to us all and we loved him deeply, each and every one of us.

When I returned to the store, the only person left was Alix.

“I phoned Jordan,” she said as she gathered up her gifts. “He’s going to come by in a few minutes to drive me home.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

Alix helped me clean up and I saw her glance my way a couple of times.

“Were you surprised?” I asked as I dumped paper plates in the garbage.

“Totally.” She looked up at me, her eyes shining. “It was wonderful, Lydia. Thank you so much!”

“We were happy to do it for you, Alix,” I murmured, moved by the fervency of her response.

“Did you see me talking to Margaret?” Alix asked a few minutes later as she wrapped the leftover croissants in a plastic bag.

I nodded. Naturally, I was curious and hoped Alix would elaborate. Margaret shared so little with me these days.

“Margaret came to me,” Alix began. “She asked if we could talk privately.” Alix frowned, presumably at whatever Margaret had said. “I told her I’d talk to her, but it’d have to wait until after the shower. I couldn’t very well leave everyone,” she said.