Blossom Street. Debbie Macomber

      “I know so.” I’d never seen Bethanne more animated. Jacqueline had the money to pay for something really special, too. “Call her. I’ll give you her number.”

      “I will,” Bethanne promised. Her needles clicked energetically as she started describing possibilities for little Amelia’s party. “How about a teddy bears’ picnic? Or a storytelling party? Or—”

      Margaret walked over with the phone number written on a sheet of paper. My sister is nothing if not efficient.

      “I can help you,” Courtney offered. “I mean, if you need an assistant, and Annie and Andrew are busy. Most days I have a bunch of free time and you wouldn’t have to pay me or anything.”

      Bethanne’s eyes filled with tears. “That is so sweet of you.”

      “Honestly, I’m glad to do it.”

      Bethanne glanced from one woman to the next. “Thank you all so much. Especially you, Elise. You’ve given me a wonderful idea and I just love it. This is something I’m really, really good at, and I know I can make it a success.” Impulsively she put down her knitting and sprang up to hug the older woman.

      I was delighted by her brand-new confidence and wanted to cheer her on. “I was impressed with the music video party you threw for Annie when she turned twelve,” I said. Bethanne had told us about this a few weeks ago. “I can just imagine how much fun those girls had dressing up as their favorite rock stars and then having a video made of them singing to a karaoke machine. What a wonderful keepsake.”

      “Or the pirate party for Andrew when he was seven,” Courtney added. “It was so clever to actually bury treasure at the beach.”

      “It was fun drawing up the treasure maps,” Bethanne said, smiling. “One for each boy. The treasures were quite elaborate, too. I’d collected junk jewelry, and bought chocolate coins and eye patches. It was a great party. In fact, it was that party that made me realize how much I enjoyed this. Over the years, I’ve helped some of my friends with their kids’ parties, but I never dreamed anyone would actually pay me for doing it.”

      “That was Andrew’s favorite party, he says. I mean, he still talks about it.” Courtney grinned. “I wouldn’t have minded a party like that myself.”

      Elise nodded. “And it’s absolutely perfect for little boys.”

      “Thanks.” Bethanne nodded. “Grant got involved, too. He bought a huge toy parrot and dressed up as Long John Silver.”

      I could see that remembering her husband in those better times was making her feel nostalgic.

      “I think Elise might really be on to something here,” Margaret said. “There’s a market for this kind of—”

      The door opened, interrupting her, and in walked a distinguished-looking older gentleman. I don’t get many men in the shop. There are definitely male knitters, but most of the yarn I sell is to women.

      Elise raised her head up when the bell chimed and went pale. “Maverick,” she whispered.

      “Hello, everyone,” he said without the least hesitation. He seemed completely at ease in the shop, although not all men are comfortable in such a female environment. “I’m here for Elise.” He looked in her direction and I noticed the way his eyes softened. “I was in the neighborhood and figured I’d give you a ride home.”

      “I—I’ll be a while yet,” she said, blushing. Flustered, she dropped a stitch and then did a marvelous job of picking it up again.

      I enjoyed watching the two of them. They might be divorced, but it was plain they still had strong feelings for each other. This was an intriguing development—and not something Elise had mentioned. I suppose I’d had an image of a professional gambler and to be honest, Maverick didn’t fit the picture. With his white hair and beard, my first thought was that he resembled Charlie Rich, the country singer. On closer examination, I saw that he was taller and more solidly built.

      “Don’t rush on my account,” Maverick told her. “I’m parked outside. I’ll wait there.”

      Elise gazed down at her knitting. “Ah … okay.”

      The class continued for another fifteen minutes and then gradually, one by one, my students left, chatting about next week’s session. I found it interesting that the entire group had decided to knit socks for men. Bethanne’s were probably for her son. Courtney had said hers would be a gift for her dad. And Elise? My guess was that her ex-husband would receive them.

      “That was a wonderful suggestion Elise had for Bethanne,” I commented to Margaret as I straightened the class area. I still felt good about what had happened; it seemed like a step toward real friendship.

      Suddenly I saw that my sister was crying.

      “Margaret?”

      She brushed the tears away, obviously upset and embarrassed that I’d seen them.

      “What is it?” I asked, despite my earlier resolve. “Tell me.”

      “We got a notice in the mail yesterday,” she said in a voice so low I had to strain to hear. “Matt didn’t know I saw it. He takes care of all the bills, and I just assumed we were managing all right. I’ve cut back as much as I can. I know he has, too, but apparently … Oh, Lydia, we’re so far behind on the mortgage payments that we’re in danger of losing the house.”

      “Oh, no.” Every penny I had was invested in the store or I would’ve immediately offered to help.

      “I tried to talk it over with Matt. I know he was just trying to protect me, but—but I’m his wife. He should tell me. When I told him that, he said I had enough on my mind without worrying about this too.”

      “How much do you need?” I asked.

      “The letter said we had until next Monday to come up with ten thousand dollars.”

      “Oh, Margaret. I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

      “I know, I know … Matt says everything will work out, and … and I’m sure it will. I didn’t mean to burden you with our problems—it’s just that it was such a shock….”

      Although Margaret tried to sound hopeful, I didn’t have a good feeling about this. My sister was about to lose her home and I couldn’t do a thing to help.

      22

      CHAPTER

       ELISE BEAUMONT

      Elise was deep in thought as she tore lettuce leaves for the dinner salad. Her grandsons were at the small neighborhood park with Maverick. Luke and John dragged him there every chance they got, and he was always agreeable. If he’d been half as good a husband and father as he was a grandfather, the marriage might’ve lasted.

      Although she hated to admit it, Elise had begun to enjoy Maverick’s company. Relying on him for anything, even casual friendship, was dangerous, as she very well knew. In fact, no one knew that better than she did. But over the last few weeks, he’d managed to break down her determination to avoid him. Little by little, he’d erased her resentment and doubt. He’d done it not with extravagant promises or declarations but through his actions—especially in the way he loved Aurora and his grandchildren. He respected Elise’s feelings, never argued with her or defended himself. He seemed sincere. She didn’t want to trust him, knew she shouldn’t allow him into her life, but nevertheless found herself drawn to him.

      The timer in the laundry room went off and Elise dried her hands before transferring the freshly laundered clothes from the dryer to a clothes basket. Aurora was meeting with Bethanne about Luke’s birthday party. She’d loved Elise’s suggestion about hiring Bethanne and insisted on paying the cost herself. She and Elise had engaged in a good-natured argument about it and finally decided Elise would pay for the cake.

      Realizing