Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(56)

“Jacqueline? Camping?” Barbie said incredulously. “That woman likes her luxuries.”

“I know, that was my reaction, too.” Lillie shrugged in amusement. “Who knew?”

“I guess it’s like me and belly dancing,” Barbie said. “It was in the back of my mind, just a vague…whimsy, I guess you could say, but it didn’t enter my consciousness until I started working on my list of wishes. Sometimes I think we’re afraid to admit we want certain things. Especially things that contradict the image we have of ourselves.”

“Or the way others think of us,” Lillie said.

“Right.”

A customer walked in the door.

Lillie glanced over her shoulder and then back at Anne Marie. “Thursday night, then. Shall we say six?”

“I’m looking forward to it.” And she was. Her list of wishes was growing and it wasn’t as difficult to come up with ideas as it had originally been. All at once a whole world of wishes, of desires and possibilities, had opened up to her, ideas that had seemed beyond the scope of her imagination only a few weeks ago. Perhaps her heart had finally, gradually, begun to mend. She had fifteen wishes now.

12. Take a cake-decorating class and bake Ellen a huge birthday cake

13. Practice not-so-random acts of kindness at least once a week

14. Ride the biggest roller coaster in the world at Six Flags in New Jersey

15. Visit the Civil War battlefield in Gettysburg and then go to Amish country

That evening as Anne Marie put away the dinner dishes, Ellen sat at the kitchen table, doing her homework. Her ankles were demurely crossed, her entire demeanor intent.

Ellen had spoken with her grandmother before dinner, and so had Anne Marie. Dolores was regaining her strength. It wouldn’t be long before Ellen could return to her home and all that was familiar.

“Do you need me to go over your spelling with you?” Anne Marie offered as she wiped the countertop.

“No, thank you.”

“Don’t you have a test tomorrow?”

“Yes, but I already memorized all the words,” Ellen said proudly.

“On the very first day?”

Ellen nodded. “I did that after I took Baxter for a walk when I got home.”

Anne Marie wasn’t sure how Baxter would do when Ellen went back to her grandmother’s. The eight-year-old had completely spoiled him. Every day after the school bus dropped her off, Ellen ran up the stairs to their apartment and lavished Baxter with love and attention. Anne Marie walked her dog twice every day and once in the evening. Now, however, Ellen took over for her in the afternoon. Anne Marie used to take him to the alley behind the store. Not Ellen. She paraded him up and down Blossom Street with all the ceremony of visiting royalty. Needless to say, Baxter loved their excursions.

Cody, Lydia’s stepson, had recently come by with his dog, Chase, and the two dogs and children had quickly become friends. The dogs made quite a pair; Chase was a hefty golden retriever and Baxter was tiny by comparison. Like many small dogs, Baxter wasn’t intimidated by the bigger dog’s size, and the two of them marched side by side, looking for all the world like Laurel and Hardy.

In addition to Lydia, Ellen had made friends with several of the other business-owners. It wasn’t uncommon for her to return with a carnation given to her by Susannah or a cookie from Alix at the French Café.

“Can I watch TV when I finish my homework?” Ellen asked, glancing up from her arithmetic.

“Okay.” Anne Marie was looking forward to sitting down in front of the TV, too. She’d gone to A Good Yarn on her lunch break to buy the necessary knitting supplies. With the extra classes and increased business, the shop was now open six days a week. Elise had helped Anne Marie select her yarn and needles. The choices seemed endless, and after much debate, she’d decided on a soft washable wool in lavender to make a lap robe for Dolores Falk.

Because Anne Marie was so eager to learn, Elise had taught her how to cast on and showed her the basic knit stitch. To her delight, Anne Marie had picked it up without a problem.

An hour later, Anne Marie and Ellen sat together on the sofa, watching the Family Channel. Wanting to practice what she’d learned, Anne Marie took out the needles and a skein of yarn.

“What are you doing?” Ellen asked.

“Knitting,” she said, adding “I hope,” under her breath.

“Grandma Dolores used to knit.”

Anne Marie nodded.

“She said she’d teach me.”

Again Anne Marie acknowledged the comment with a slight inclination of her head as she concentrated on casting on stitches.

“Is it hard?”

“Not really.”

“Can I watch you?”

“Sure.”

Ellen scooted closer and stared fixedly as Anne Marie attempted what Elise called a knitted cast-on. The term didn’t mean anything to her; all she wanted to do was get stitches onto the needle.

“That’s knitting?” Ellen said.

Anne Marie paused. “I think so.”

Ellen removed her shoes and stood on the sofa to get a better view. Suddenly she bounded off the sofa and dashed into her bedroom. She was back an instant later with a pad and paper.

“What’s that for?” Anne Marie asked as the youngster skidded to a stop, barely missing the coffee table.