Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(48)

“Okay.” Ellen returned to the bedroom, muttering quietly to herself.

That interruption generated a series of questions about Anne Marie’s Twenty Wishes. She didn’t mind Brandon’s interest; in fact she was grateful for the change of subject and explained in detail what she and the other widows were doing.

A half hour later, after Brandon had finished his coffee, he left. It was eight-thirty, time to get Ellen ready for bed.

“Grandma sounded tired when I talked to her this afternoon,” Ellen said, sliding her nightgown over her head, thin arms raised.

“She’ll be tired for a long time. Heart surgery takes a lot out of a person. She’s going to need plenty of rest.”

Ellen seemed distressed by that. “But—”

“You’ll be able to go home to your grandmother soon,” Anne Marie promised quickly. She received daily updates on Dolores’s condition and everything was progressing exactly as it should. In two or at most three weeks, she’d be back in her own home, with a visiting nurse to look in on her. Ellen would be returning to the only stable life she’d ever known.

Pulling back the sheets, Anne Marie tucked the child into bed.

“Can we say our prayers?” Ellen asked sleepily.

“Of course.”

“Should I say the words out loud or should I just say them in my heart?” Ellen murmured. Most nights she’d prayed in silence, mouthing the words as Anne Marie watched.

“What do you usually do with your grandmother?”

“She likes me to say them out loud.”

“Then do it like that,” Anne Marie said. The child’s simple faith touched her, reminding her of a time when she, too, had prayed. Anne Marie couldn’t remember when she’d stopped or why. She’d just…gotten out of the habit, she supposed.

Ellen studied her. “You’re supposed to hold my hands and close your eyes. That’s what Grandma Dolores does.”

“All right.” She clasped Ellen’s hands in hers and shut her eyes.

Apparently she’d satisfied Ellen, because the youngster began to speak. “God, it’s me, Ellen, again.” She prayed for her grandmother and thanked God for her teacher and her friends and went through a long list of subjects, from hoping she’d do well on tomorrow’s spelling test to thanking God for her new green raincoat.

Anne Marie didn’t want to interrupt, but she was the one who’d supplied the coat, not God.

“And thank you most of all for Anne Marie, so I didn’t have to go to a foster home and amen,” Ellen whispered.

“Amen,” Anne Marie echoed. Her knees had started to hurt and she rose awkwardly to her feet. On impulse she bent over and kissed Ellen’s forehead. “Good night, sweetie.”

“Good night.”

About ten, she took Baxter for a five-minute walk, keeping the apartment in sight. When she got back, the phone rang; it was Elise Beaumont. “I wondered when we’d connect,” Anne Marie said after her initial greeting.

“Sorry to call so late.”

“That’s okay.”

“The last couple of times I stopped by the bookstore, you were busy.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to ask how the conversation with Rebecca Gilroy went.”

“Oh.” That question just didn’t seem to go away. “I heard you’re working for Lydia now,” she said instead.

“Don’t try to distract me. Have you spoken to Rebecca?”

Anne Marie didn’t understand why everyone seemed to think it was her responsibility to confront the other woman.

“You have spoken to her, haven’t you?”

“No.” She had good reasons for not contacting the woman who’d been sleeping with her husband—reasons that were no one’s business but her own.

Why would she want to talk to this woman, who’d likely given birth to Robert’s child?

Chapter 15

Anne Marie tossed and turned all that night, and when she got up at seven, she doubted she’d had even two hours’ sleep. Whenever she started to drift off, she’d jerk awake, unable to escape the image of Robert and his assistant together, arms and legs entwined. Anne Marie had only met Rebecca Gilroy a few times but remembered her well. Tall and curvy, auburn-haired and in her twenties. As she struggled to sleep, all she could see was the other woman with her swollen belly. Pregnant.

With Robert’s child.

Ever since the dinner with Melissa, Anne Marie had tried hard to keep busy, not to think, not to dwell on the pain that threatened to swallow her whole. But then it would come back, refusing to leave until she acknowledged it.

No, she wouldn’t confront Rebecca Gilroy. She couldn’t see the purpose of exposing herself to that reality if she could avoid it.

With Baxter on his leash, Anne Marie walked Ellen to the bus stop, where a small group of youngsters waited, her eyes smarting from lack of sleep. She took her dog home and did a few household chores before going down to the bookstore at ten and officially opening it.

Lillie was there at five after. As soon as she saw Anne Marie, she frowned. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” Anne Marie said wryly. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Is something wrong?” Lillie asked.