Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(91)

“Just now,” Vanessa elaborated. “When you f irst arrived. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“Oh, that,” Anne Marie said, pretending to have forgotten the complete lack of welcome. “Trust me, I understand. You’re in a diff icult situation. We both are. The only thing we can do is deal with it, right?”

Vanessa didn’t seem persuaded. “I guess, but it’s kind of hard.”

“Yes, it is,” Anne Marie said. “Listen, I’ll stay a little longer, then make my excuses and leave. You and Tim can bring Ellen home later, or if it’s easier I can come back and pick her up. Whichever suits you best.”

Vanessa nodded. “I’ll ask Tim.”

“We can make this work,” Anne Marie told her, “but we need to keep the lines of communication open. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Why should I?” Vanessa said aggressively. “Tim and I are going to be married.”

“You shouldn’t be uncomfortable,” Anne Marie agreed. “And by the same token, I want Ellen to feel at ease with you.”

“She already does.” Vanessa scowled, as though she expected Anne Marie to dispute that statement.

“I appreciate how readily you’ve accepted Ellen.” Anne Marie wasn’t convinced that was true, but didn’t want to challenge the other woman.

Vanessa gave the same exasperated sigh she had earlier. “You have no idea how diff icult it is, sharing Tim with this child. What’ll happen when we have our own children?”

Anne Marie didn’t have an answer for her. “The two of you will f igure that out when the time comes,” she said. It was the best she could do.

“Right,” Vanessa mumbled. “We will.”

The two men returned, and Tim immediately went to Vanessa’s side.

Rather than feel like an outsider, Anne Marie made her way to the kitchen, where Mary and Ellen were chatting amicably.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked.

“Thanks, but I have everything under control. We’ll be eating in a few minutes.”

Ellen sat on a bar stool at the counter. “Look, Mom,” she said excitedly. “Grandma Mary has a crooked little f inger, the same as me.” She held her two little f ingers together and displayed how they veered off, forming the shape of a V.

“My father once told me they’re a sign of high intelligence,”

Mary said.

“Does Dad have those, too?”

“He does.” Mary sent Ellen a smile. She took the chicken from the oven and arranged the pieces on a large platter.

“I can carry that outside if you’d like,” Anne Marie volunteered. She wished now that she’d declined the dinner invitation. It was too awkward for both her and Vanessa.

“Thanks. Ellen, why don’t you tell everyone dinner’s ready,”

Mary suggested.

“Okay, but can I show Grandpa something f irst?”

“Sure,” Mary said.

Ellen dashed into the living room while Anne Marie carried the platter of fried chicken outside and set it on the table. She’d just come back into the house when she heard Ellen scream. Anne Marie froze. She’d never heard her daughter scream like that. It was a cry of intense pain. In her rush to f ind Ellen, she nearly stumbled. Heart-wrenching sobs came from the garage. Anne Marie saw Ellen on the cement f loor with Tim bending over her. Thomas stood in the background, his face pale.

“What happened?” she cried, falling to her knees beside Ellen. The girl cradled her arm against her side and was in such pain she seemed to have trouble breathing. Sobs racked her thin body and she shook uncontrollably.

“She fell off the motorcycle,” Tim said. “It was so fast I couldn’t reach her in time to catch her.” He was pale and shaken, too. “I think she broke her arm.”

Anne Marie brought Ellen carefully into her embrace. “Call 9-1-1,” she shouted.

Tim rushed into the other room.

Anne Marie didn’t have a lot of medical experience, but it seemed to her that Ellen was going into shock. That was when she lost it, too. “What’s taking so long?” she yelled, f ighting to hold back the panic.

Thomas rushed into the house and returned with a blanket, which he wrapped around Ellen’s shoulders. Ellen’s sobs tore at Anne Marie’s heart and soon her own face was streaked with tears. She rocked Ellen, whispering words of comfort and reassurance as they waited for the paramedics. An eternity passed before she f inally heard the siren. As soon as the medical personnel arrived, they took over, and within minutes Ellen was loaded into the aid car. Anne Marie rode with her; Tim followed in his vehicle.

Thankfully the emergency room wasn’t crowded. Ellen was given something to relieve the pain, then sent to have an X-ray of her arm.

The second her daughter had been wheeled out, Anne Marie whirled on Tim. “How could you let this happen?” she cried. He shook his head hopelessly. “It was all so fast…” he said again.

Covering her face with both hands, she fought for composure. There was no point in blaming Tim; Ellen could just as easily have fallen at home with Anne Marie.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He slid his arm around her shoulders. “So am I,” he said, pressing his head to hers. “I knew the instant she landed that she’d broken a bone.”