The Shop on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #1)(26)

Maybe there was some basis for Ellie’s distrust. Still, Carol found it practically inconceivable that her brother would cheat on his wife. He was an honorable man but he was a man, and if he had a drink with a flight attendant or a female pilot now and then—was that so bad? Perhaps Ellie had simply overreacted.

“I suppose I should be grateful we delayed having a family,” he mumbled.

Carol agreed; if there was anything to be grateful for, it was that. She hated the thought of children suffering the upheaval of a broken home.

“Ellie wanted kids, but I wasn’t ready.”

Carol nodded.

“Any idea what I should do now?” he asked, peering at her as if she could provide him with answers.

She patted his arm gently, not knowing how to respond. Rick could be his own worst enemy. He’d always been a sociable person, the life of the party, a natural daredevil, and she’d loved and admired him as her gallant older brother. It saddened her to see how unhappy he was.

“You need to prove yourself to Ellie.”

“But how?” he cried. “I’m telling you, Carol, I’m at my wits’ end. Ellie claims she doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Perhaps you could write to her.”

“Write what?”

“A letter,” she said. “Better yet, use e-mail. Tell her you’re an idiot.”

“I think she already knows that.” For the first time since they’d started talking, she saw a hint of smile on his face. “What if she won’t answer me?”

“Don’t take no for an answer. Let her know you aren’t giving up.”

“Should I send her flowers? That kind of thing?”

“Bring her strawberries and fresh fruit from the Pike Place Market.” Fresh fruit was available in Juneau, but it was extremely expensive. “A whole basket,” Carol suggested. “As I recall, Ellie loves blueberries.”

“She does?”

“Rick! You should know that. She was your wife.”

“That’s the problem,” her brother moaned. “I didn’t pay her near enough attention. I didn’t realize how much I loved her until it was too late.”

“Then you’re going to make up for lost time.”

He grinned, and it was the same boyish smile she remembered from childhood. “Your enthusiasm is catching. You really think I can win her back?”

“Yes,” she cried. It felt good to have her brother turn to her, to need her help. Rick had made a mistake and hadn’t fought for his marriage, but she’d do everything she could to support him.

CHAPTER 12

ALIX TOWNSEND

L aurel owed Alix, so she had her roommate cover for her the minute Jordan Turner showed up at the video store on Tuesday night. As soon as she saw that he was getting ready to leave, she slipped out front and pretended to be on break. Her hand shook as she lit a cigarette; she leaned against the building and took a deep drag, hoping the nicotine would calm her.

When the door opened and Jordan stepped outside, Alix called to him.

“Hi,” she said.

He looked over his shoulder. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“All right. I didn’t see you earlier,” she lied. “I put aside The Matrix for you if you’re still interested.”

“Yeah, sure, thanks.”

“I aim to please.” She reached for her cigarettes and silently offered him one.

“No, thanks.”

She should’ve guessed he was a nonsmoker. She stared at the tip of her lit cigarette. “I’m trying to cut back. These are the low-nicotine cigarettes, but I swear I’m going to end up with a hernia getting any taste out of this.”

He chuckled at her stupid joke and a warm, happy feeling came over her.

“I’ve seen you around the neighborhood,” Jordan said.

“Alix Townsend. Alix, spelled A-L-I-X.” She thrust out her hand, which he shook. “You’re Jordan Turner,” she went on before he had a chance to introduce himself. “Your driver’s license is on file. You live off Fifth Avenue, don’t you?” She didn’t mind letting him know she was interested. She thought of the boy she’d once known with the same name, but that was years ago, back in grade school. He’d been a decent kid, and she’d had a crush on him, but it felt like something that had happened in another time and another place.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Could it be the same Jordan Turner? She studied him, wondering if it was possible. She took another deep drag of the cigarette in an effort to calm her rattled nerves.

No, this couldn’t be the same Jordan Turner, she decided. Still, her memories of him were fleeting and she wasn’t absolutely sure. She might have dredged up the courage to ask, except that he continued the conversation.

“I don’t work far from here.”

So he stopped in for videos on his way home from work. Lots of people did.

“You can tell a lot about a person from the videos they rent,” she said casually. She tossed the cigarette onto the sidewalk and crushed it with the toe of her combat boot.

“I’ll bet you can.”

“Do you want to know what I learned about you?” This was one of her best conversational gambits—character analysis through movie selection—although she didn’t have much opportunity to use it.