Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(57)

“My Twenty Wishes. I want to learn how to knit, too.”

Anne Marie grinned at her. “How about if I teach you what I know?”

“You mean now?” The girl’s eyes grew round.

“Why not?”

“Okay.” Ellen leaped back onto the sofa, sitting close beside Anne Marie.

“According to Elise…”

“Mrs. Beaumont?”

“Yes, Mrs. Beaumont. There are actually only two basic stitches. The first is called the knit stitch and the second is a purl stitch.”

“Okay,” Ellen said again, nodding sagely.

“So far, I just know how to do the knit stitch. I’ll learn how to purl in the first class.”

“You haven’t taken a real class yet?”

“No. I’m signed up, though.”

“Oh.”

“In other words, Ellen, I don’t know all that much, but I’m willing to show you what I can do. If you like it, I’ll take you to the yarn shop and let you pick out your own needles and yarn.”

“Really?” Ellen was beside herself with excitement. “Really? Really?”

“Yes, really,” Anne Marie responded, smiling.

For the next forty minutes, the television show was forgotten as Anne Marie showed Ellen what Elise had taught her that day. Ellen didn’t catch on as easily as Anne Marie, but she was, after all, only eight.

Anne Marie was pleased with the child’s determination to learn. Before the evening was over, Ellen was every bit as proficient as Anne Marie.

“I want to knit something for Grandma Dolores,” Ellen stated. “Something pretty.”

“What about a scarf?” Anne Marie suggested. She’d seen several exquisite ones at the shop. Elise had explained that these elaborate scarves had been knit using only the basic stitch she’d taught Anne Marie that very day.

“For her to wear to church,” Ellen continued excitedly. “I’ll give it to her when she comes home from the hospital.”

“That’s a very good idea.”

Ellen finished the row and was about to start another when Anne Marie noticed the time. The evening had simply slipped away. It used to be that the hours she spent in the apartment moved so slowly she seemed aware of every passing minute.

“It’s nine o’clock,” Anne Marie said. “You should’ve been in bed half an hour ago.”

“Is it nine already?” Ellen protested, but she couldn’t hold back a yawn.

“I’m afraid so. We’ll knit again tomorrow night,” Anne Marie promised.

Ellen set down the needles and yarn and stumbled toward her room, yawning every step of the way.

“Call me when you’re ready for your prayers, sleepyhead.”

“Oh…kay.”

A few minutes later, Ellen called out that she was ready. They followed the same routine as when Ellen lived with her grandmother, which meant that Anne Marie listened to the girl’s prayers. She’d been saying them aloud for the last while.

Kneeling by the sofa bed, Anne Marie propped her elbows on the mattress, closed her eyes and bowed her head. Ellen’s prayers didn’t vary much. First, she asked God to help her grandmother get better. Then she asked Him to bless a number of people, Anne Marie and Baxter included, with lengthy descriptions of each. Finally, she gave thanks for the day’s small triumphs. At the end of the seemingly interminable list, she said “Amen.”

“Amen,” Anne Marie echoed. “Good night, Ellen.” She drew the covers more firmly around her and was about to get up when Ellen threw both arms around Anne Marie’s neck and hugged her tightly. “Thank you for teaching me to knit.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, hugging her back. Getting to her feet, she turned out the light, then tiptoed out of the room. As was her habit, she left the door slightly ajar.

It wasn’t until Anne Marie had stepped into the hallway that she realized something—this was the first time Ellen had actually hugged her. The night Anne Marie had gone to Dolores Falk’s home, Ellen had fallen weeping into her arms, but that wasn’t a real hug. Not like the one she’d just received.

Anne Marie stood right where she was and savored the moment. She felt loved and needed in a way she never had before.

It was like the return of warmth after the coldest winter of her life.

Chapter 18

“You came!” Tessa Bassett said with unrestrained glee when Barbie stepped forward to purchase her movie ticket. The teenager’s face was flushed with excitement, and she leaned forward, lowering her voice. “He’s here.”

“Mark?” Barbie could hardly believe it. She hadn’t expected this, but it shouldn’t surprise her. Mark was definitely intrigued, even if he resisted her. Despite his hostility he hadn’t really wanted to scare her off. Or maybe he was testing her interest. At any rate, Barbie saw the first substantial crack in that impervious exterior of his.

Mark was back. For that matter, so was she.

“He said he wasn’t going to ever come on a Monday again—but now he has. I wanted to call you but I didn’t know your last name, so I couldn’t. I just hoped you’d be back and you are.” This was all said in one breath. While she was speaking, Tessa slipped her the movie ticket and held out her hand for the money.