Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(97)

Tim answered on the second ring and immediately reassured Anne Marie. “Everything went great. Ellen’s been asleep for over an hour.”

“Did she say her prayers?”

Tim chuckled. “Oh, yes. Does it generally go on as long as it did this evening?”

“Five minutes?” The child took her prayers seriously.

“Longer.”

“I f igured as much.” No doubt Ellen had been hoping to impress her father.

“She prayed for you,” Tim informed her. “She seems to think you’re going to marry your, uh, hot date.”

“That’s interesting. And how did she feel about it?”

“She seemed okay with it.”

Anne Marie smiled across the table at Mel.

“When do you think you’ll be back?” Tim was asking.

“In about half an hour.” She didn’t want to continue a conversation with Tim while she was with her date, so she ended the call. “See you then.” She dropped the cell back in her bag. They f inished the last of their coffee, and then Anne Marie regretfully said she’d have to go. Mel walked her to her car, one hand lightly clasping her elbow. It was a gesture both protective and respectful, and it reminded her suddenly of Robert.

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” she said. “I really enjoyed meeting you.”

“Would it be possible to see you again?” Mel asked.

“I’d like that.”

He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I haven’t dated since Laura died, and…well, meeting you has been a very pleasant surprise.”

It had been for Anne Marie, as well.

As she drove home, a relaxed, comfortable feeling stole over her. She’d agreed to this date because of Tim. Her attraction to him had shown her that she’d healed enough to enter into a new relationship. It’d led to an embarrassing situation but she’d recovered from that. One thing was certain: She wasn’t going to make any assumptions about Mel. Like her, he still carried the pain of having lost a spouse. That loss would never entirely leave either of them.

Tim was f lipping through a copy of The New Yorker when she walked into the apartment. As soon as he saw her, he threw down the magazine.

“Well,” he said, standing, “how did it go?”

“Fine,” she told him, then amended her statement. “Actually, it went really well. I like Mel.”

Tim nodded, sliding his hands into his back jean pockets.

“Thank you for staying with Ellen. My mother said she’d watch her, but I hated to drag Ellen over there. She still wakes up once or twice a night because her arm aches.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, but he seemed reluctant to leave.

“Anything I can get you?” she asked, taking off her linen jacket.

“A cup of coffee?”

“Sure.” She moved into the kitchen and brewed a small pot, f illing two cups. “How do you take it?”

“Black.” She recalled that but didn’t want to seem presumptuous—

or interested enough to notice.

Tim was already sitting at the kitchen table, his elbows propped on a place mat. Anne Marie handed him the coffee, then sat across from him, waiting for him to speak.

Eventually he did. “I thought you should know I’m no longer seeing Vanessa.”

“I’m…sorry to hear that.”

“She recently had a second slip. She got drunk.”

Anne Marie nodded; she remembered he’d mentioned the first time this had happened.

“Once I could forgive, but when I found out she’d been drinking again, I told her it was over. I can’t expose Ellen to that, and Vanessa’s behavior the afternoon Ellen broke her arm was inexcusable.”

“I’m sorry if I played a role in this,” Anne Marie felt obliged to say.

Tim ignored that. “Vanessa has to accept responsibility for her own actions, the same way we all do.”

Anne Marie reached across the table and touched his arm. “I know this must be hard on you.”

He gave her a sad smile. “I’d planned to tell you this earlier in the evening, about Vanessa and me.” He hesitated.

“Yes?” Clearly there was more.

“And suggest the two of us start dating,” he said. “I never did have a good sense of timing,” he added with a rueful laugh. He couldn’t have shocked her more. “The two of…us?” She’d put the matter so completely out of her mind, she hardly knew how to react.

“Would you consider it?” he asked.

“I…yes, I’ll think about it,” she said, still in a daze. Tim took a single sip of his coffee, then got to his feet. Anne Marie walked him to the door.

As they reached it, he turned back. “Maybe this will help,” he said and before she realized what he was going to do, he pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was tender and persuasive, so persuasive that her knees felt as if they might buckle.

“Good night, Anne Marie,” he whispered in a voice that didn’t sound like his.

He left, and Anne Marie leaned against the door, eyes wide with shock…and pleasure. This was a most unexpected turn of events.

Chapter 35

Watching a complex stitch pattern grow as I knit silences the voice in my head that tells me to sweep the f loor. I imagine dust bunnies are knitting themselves together under my chair.