Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(96)

In retrospect, she should’ve noticed the signs; she’d made the mistake of assuming Tim was interested in her just because she was enthralled with him. To her, it’d been like linking two pieces of puzzle and f inding they f it perfectly. No, not two pieces, three. Tim and Ellen and her…the fantasy of a family.

“It has been a while,” Anne Marie agreed.

“The rules have changed,” Barbie said with authority. Anne Marie turned to Mark for guidance. He, however, was back to exploring the mystery and thriller titles. He held Brad Meltzer’s latest and was studying the cover. Seeing that he wasn’t going to be any help, she sighed. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Forget what those dating books tell you. Just be yourself,” Barbie advised.

“I know Mel’s a widower, but does he have children?” That was a subject she felt she could discuss. Knowing they shared common ground would be a great starting point.

“They’re grown and married.”

“How old is this guy, anyway?”

“Age is a matter of attitude,” Barbie insisted. Anne Marie groaned. “Oh, come on, Barbie.”

Barbie relented. “He’s not that old. In his f ifties.”

Robert’s age, Anne Marie mused. Her husband had died of a heart attack far too young; he’d been in his f ifties, too. Even now, it was hard to believe he was dead.

Out of the corner of her eye Anne Marie saw that Louis, her new part-time employee, had come in. He was a student at UW and worked evenings.

“I’m sure Mel and I won’t have a problem f inding things to talk about,” Anne Marie told her friend. He’d lost his wife a year ago and Robert had been gone more than two.

“I’m sure you won’t,” Barbie said, taking a Vogue magazine from the rack and leaf ing through it.

“Listen, I wish I could chat longer, but I need to go and change.”

“Wear something bright and cheerful,” Barbie told her.

“Okay.” Anne Marie didn’t bother to say she’d already planned to.

“You’re meeting at the restaurant, correct?”

“Correct,” Anne Marie conf irmed. She wanted it that way, despite Barbie and Mark’s assurances that Mel would be happy to pick her up.

She hugged Barbie and pecked Mark on the cheek, then headed upstairs to change clothes for her “hot date.”

By the time she’d f inished, Ellen and Baxter had returned. Ellen stared at her. “You look really pretty.”

That comment pleased Anne Marie, and she glanced at the hallway mirror. She wanted to make a positive f irst impression and had chosen her outf it carefully. She wore white linen pants with a pale yellow shell under a white blazer. Even to her own critical eye, she looked good.

She’d taken as long to decide on the jewelry—an antique cameo on a gold chain—as the clothes themselves. She’d had her hair done earlier in the day; she’d needed a haircut, anyway, so she’d timed it to coincide with her date.

A knock at the back door told her Tim had arrived. Ellen let him in. “What did you bring me, what did you bring me?” she asked, jumping up and down.

This was exactly the behavior Anne Marie wanted to put a stop to. Ellen had become a little too accustomed to his frequent gifts.

“Dinner.” Tim set a white bag on the kitchen table. He did a double-take when he saw Anne Marie. “You look fabulous. What’s the occasion?”

“Thanks.” She ignored the question and drank in the appreciation shining in his eyes. Ellen gladly supplied the news. “Mom’s got a hot date.”

Tim’s smile faded. “You’re going out? I thought you had an appointment.”

“I do. It’s an appointment for dinner.” She didn’t feel it was necessary to explain any more than she already had. Tim didn’t keep her updated on his relationship with Vanessa.

“I see,” he murmured, but he didn’t ask any further questions.

“I won’t be late…I don’t think,” she said as she retrieved her purse and her car keys.

“Ten?”

“Maybe, but to be on the safe side let’s say eleven. If I’m going to be any later, I’ll phone.” She probably would anyway, just to check up on Ellen, whose arm still hurt at night.

“Take as long as you want,” Tim said.

“You don’t need to be home at any particular time?”

Tim shook his head. “None.” He opened the door. “Have a nice evening.” His gaze held hers and his words seemed sincere.

“Thank you.” Anne Marie kissed Ellen, gave her f inal instructions, then left the apartment. Mel turned out to be everything Barbie and Mark had promised. To begin with, he was distinguished-looking, dressed in a classy suit and tie, and sexy in that Sean Connery way she found so attractive. Like Mark, he was an architect. Their dinner conversation didn’t lag even once; they discovered in short order that they shared the same political views, enjoyed many of the same movies and authors, and were both Placido Domingo fans.

The evening passed so quickly that Anne Marie was startled to see it was after ten.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said as she reached for her purse. “I need to check on my daughter.” She paused, not wanting to appear rude. Mel gestured with his hand. “Go ahead, by all means.”