Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(23)

“I will.” However, Anne Marie still had her doubts about the project. She’d finish out the school year but then she’d look for a different volunteer organization. “I need to call the school counselor,” she said. “The only real enthusiasm Ellen showed was when I talked about Baxter.”

“The child’s interested in dogs?”

“I think so. I thought if I got permission to bring him to the school, Ellen would enjoy meeting him.” Baxter was a good-natured dog who seemed to do well with children, and Anne Marie had no worries about his behavior.

“That’s an excellent idea.”

Elise decided to buy one of the books Anne Marie had recommended, a debut novel by a former journalist, and then wandered the store for a few minutes. With her own background as a librarian, she was an avid reader and a good customer. In fact, she often knew more about books and authors than Anne Marie did. With a second purchase in hand, Elise returned to the counter.

“Something’s bothering you,” she announced, studying Anne Marie.

“I—I’m fine,” Anne Marie insisted.

“Actually, you aren’t and that brave front is crumbling fast. You need someone to talk to. I’m available.”

Elise liked to get to the point. She wasn’t one to ease into a subject or look for a circumspect approach. Anne Marie usually appreciated her friend’s directness. Now, however, she didn’t feel ready to unburden herself.

“Well?” Elise pressed.

“I…I received some shocking news last Friday,” she began. “But I’m dealing with it.”

Elise waited patiently for her to continue.

Anne Marie glanced over her shoulder at another customer who’d just walked in and was scanning the shelves. “I don’t want to talk about it here.”

Elise patted her hand. “That’s understandable. We’ll just wait until—”

The shop door opened, as if on cue, and Theresa came back from lunch. “The French Café has a fabulous squash soup today,” she said breezily. “You should try it.”

“I might do that.” Anne Marie hadn’t eaten much of anything since Friday night. She was too thin as it was but she wasn’t hungry, and this latest incident had contributed to her lack of appetite.

“I was thinking of having a bite to eat myself. Join me,” Elise said.

It was more of a decree than a request; still, Anne Marie agreed. Elise was probably right—it would help to talk about this and to eat. With the glimmer of a smile she recalled Elise’s advice at the Valentine’s get-together. Theresa took over for her, and Anne Marie collected her purse and walked out with Elise.

“You should be wearing more than a sweater,” the older woman told her.

Anne Marie shrugged halfheartedly. “You’re beginning to sound like my mother,” she murmured.

“From the look in your eyes, I’d say you need one.”

That comment brought immediate tears, which Anne Marie struggled to hide as she returned to the office for her jacket. She grabbed a tissue to wipe her nose, then tossed it in the waste basket. She certainly couldn’t talk to her mother about what she’d learned. Laura Bostwick would use it as an opportunity to harangue Anne Marie about the huge mistake she’d made in marrying Robert. Laura had disapproved from the start. Trapped in her own unhappiness, she seemed to take a malevolent pleasure in destroying other people’s joy.

Elise linked arms with her as they crossed the street. “You’re so thin now I’m afraid a strong wind will blow you away.”

“Oh, come on, Elise. Don’t exaggerate.”

“It’s a problem I wish I had,” Elise muttered. “When Maverick died, I’m afraid I buried my sorrows in food. Isn’t that ridiculous, considering how closely I watched his diet?” Unexpectedly she smiled. “He said he ate like a bird—flax seed, blueberries, wheat germ…Maverick had such a delightful sense of humor. I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever stop missing him.” She shook her head and brought her attention back to Anne Marie.

The French Café was the most popular restaurant on Blossom Street; even now, at almost two, it was crowded with lunchtime customers.

Alix Turner, who baked all the pastries, belonged to one of Anne Marie’s reader groups and often recommended the bookstore to others.

When it was their turn to order, both Anne Marie and Elise chose the squash soup. While they waited for the server to deliver their order, they sipped their coffee.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Elise said.

“Why don’t we wait until after we eat?” Anne Marie murmured, not eager to discuss Robert’s infidelity.

Elise looked at her sternly. “Don’t put it off. Whatever happened is tearing you up inside. You’ll feel better if you share it—if not with me, then someone else. Frankly, I’m your best option.”

Anne Marie had to laugh; some of the things Elise said verged on egotistical. Fortunately she knew the other woman well enough not to take offense.

“Let’s talk about our Twenty Wishes instead,” Anne Marie said. “Are you working on your list?”

“I am.” Elise smiled. “I’m determined to go on a hot air balloon ride. That one’s at the top of my list.” She hesitated. “I have another wish….”