Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(62)

In the knitting class, Anne Marie had learned how to purl and she had about three inches of the lap robe finished. Ellen was half done with the scarf for her grandmother; the girl had a good eye for color and had chosen a soft pink yarn and a peach. The combination was lovely. They were colors Anne Marie would never have thought to put together.

Lydia had praised her color choice, too, and Ellen glowed with pleasure at the compliment.

“Are you bringing your Twenty Wishes binder?” Ellen asked now.

“Yes, I think so.”

Ellen slipped her knitting into her backpack. “Should I bring my list?”

Anne Marie hesitated, a little worried that Ellen might inadvertently dominate the conversation. “Maybe next time, okay? For tonight I want you to sit and listen.”

“Okay.” Running up the stairs with her backpack, Ellen collected an excited Baxter for his walk, the requisite plastic bag tucked into her jeans’ pocket.

At four, Steve Handley came into the shop for his shift. Anne Marie didn’t have time to shower, but went upstairs to refresh her makeup. The day was overcast, so she decided to put a forest-green knit vest over her cream-colored long-sleeved blouse.

Ellen was modeling the new denim skirt Anne Marie had bought her when the phone rang.

“Want me to answer?” Ellen asked.

Anne Marie hesitated. “Let me check who it is first.” She glanced at the phone as Caller ID flashed Melissa’s name and number.

Instinctively Anne Marie backed away. She still hadn’t recovered from her last conversation with her stepdaughter. Another heart-to-heart might just finish her off.

The phone rang again and then again. After the fourth ring, voice mail came on. Anne Marie listened to the brief message. Melissa identifed herself, then said, “Call me,” without explaining why.

“Anne Marie?” Ellen spoke tentatively, staring up at her with worried eyes.

“Hey,” she said, forcing some enthusiasm into her voice. “I thought we had a dinner date. Are you ready?”

Ellen nodded eagerly.

“Me, too. Let’s go.”

On the short drive to Lillie’s, they sang camp songs. Or rather, Ellen sang. Anne Marie tried to sing and once again her voice sounded as if someone was strangling her. After the first few lines, she stopped and simply listened. Ellen truly was gifted and she loved to sing. After the first song, she immediately started a second one—“This Little Light of Mine,” a song she told Anne Marie she’d learned in church.

Which reminded Anne Marie that one thing she hadn’t done was take Ellen to church. It wasn’t part of her normal practice, not that she had anything against religion. Although, at the moment, she didn’t exactly feel God had dealt her a fair hand. Yet she realized that if she was going to maintain the routine Ellen had with Dolores, she should probably be taking her to Sunday-school class.

Just as Ellen’s song came to an end, Anne Marie pulled up outside Lillie’s house. This was the first time she’d been invited here. She parked in the circular drive, gaping at the sprawling Tudor-style house, which must have seven or eight thousand square feet. The outdoor lighting revealed a sweeping, verdant lawn and, closer to the house itself, an arrangement of flower beds filled with tulips of all colors, daffodils and delicate narcissus.

“Wow,” Anne Marie whispered.

“Does Mrs. Higgins live in a castle?” Ellen asked in a hushed voice.

“It seems so.”

Barbie arrived then, pulling into the drive behind them, and they all walked into the house together, followed a moment later by Elise. As soon as Barbie greeted her mother, Anne Marie could tell that something was amiss, although both Barbie and Lillie struggled to hide it. Instead of the usual camaraderie, the teasing and joking, they were stiffly polite with each other.

They must’ve had an argument or a falling-out. No wonder Lillie had seemed upset.

Lillie had arranged a small buffet with everything on a sideboard in the formal dining room. The buffet started with a selection of cheeses, olives, brie-stuffed dates and three different salads—a seafood pasta, a Caesar with home-made croutons and a fruit salad. For the entrée, Lillie presented them with ricotta-filled chicken br**sts and scalloped potatoes.

Elise shook her head. “My goodness, Lillie, you must’ve been cooking for days.”

“Mother is a tremendous cook,” Barbie said quickly.

Lillie turned to her daughter. “Thank you. I enjoy spending time in the kitchen—it takes my mind off other concerns.”

The comment seemed to be directed at Barbie, whose cheeks flushed as she looked away.

Anne Marie helped Ellen prepare her plate and then served herself. The five of them assembled around the table, which seated twelve. Anne Marie noticed that Lillie didn’t have much of an appetite; for that matter, neither did Barbie. They barely seemed to touch their meals. Anne Marie, Ellen and Elise, however, savored every bite.

Conversation was general at first, with everyone asking Ellen about school and which classes she liked best. Reading, spelling and math, she’d answered, providing examples of what she’d recently learned.

“Speaking of classes, did you sign up for belly dancing?” Anne Marie asked Barbie.

Barbie jerked her head up, apparently caught unawares. “Belly dancing?”

“You said it was one of your wishes.”