Blossom Street. Debbie Macomber

pain. How grateful she was now that her prayer hadn’t been answered. It felt as though the sun was shining on her life these days.

      She didn’t see Paul until he stepped up to the table. “You’re certainly preoccupied,” he said with a smile.

      “Paul,” she gasped. Impulsively she reached out and hugged him—and was shocked when he wrapped his arms around her. They talked almost every day and saw each other two or three times a week. He’d become her confidant and her friend, and they relied on each other for moral support. She didn’t want that to change, and she’d assumed he understood her feelings. Gently she disengaged herself.

      “How’s my favorite party girl?” he teased.

      “I’m great—I think.” She’d know more after he reviewed her loan application. “I brought you lunch,” she announced and pointed to the small cooler she’d carried from her car.

      “You didn’t need to do that,” he protested, slipping into the seat across from her.

      “I know, but I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done.”

      “Like what?”

      “Paul, don’t you know?” She couldn’t believe he was unaware of how much he’d helped her in the past few months. He’d been her friend when she’d badly needed one. He’d been a major source of encouragement when she’d started her party business. Most importantly, Paul had showed her she was alive again when the divorce had nearly destroyed her. Paul, and her friends at A Good Yarn, had shaped the new Bethanne. The new, improved Bethanne, with dreams and courage and a promising future. She told him all this, and then couldn’t seem to stop talking.

      “Okay, okay.” He laughed and held up both hands. “I didn’t have a clue I was such a hero.”

      “You are. You’re my hero.”

      He sobered then, the laughter vanishing from his eyes. “And you’re mine.”

      The intensity of his look made Bethanne uncomfortable, so she opened the small cooler and brought out the thick corned beef sandwich she’d prepared. “Here, I’ll get this ready while you read over the loan application.”

      “Okay,” he said agreeably.

      As she set up his lunch, Bethanne noticed that her hands were shaking. The last few times she’d been with Paul, she’d recognized the subtle changes in their relationship. The sexual tension between them was all too evident, and that frightened her more than applying for the bank loan. As much as possible, she wanted to keep this relationship safe. She feared that acting on sexual impulses would ruin the friendship, and Bethanne couldn’t bear that.

      She spread out a napkin and peeled the wrap from around the sandwich while Paul scanned the loan application.

      “You didn’t work after you were married?” he asked, glancing up.

      “Well, I did until Andrew was born. I have it down there.” She pointed out where her previous employment was listed on the application. She’d worked in a boutique, doing the display windows. She’d enjoyed her job for the two years she’d worked there.

      “That was more than eighteen years ago.”

      “I know, but if you take a look at the volunteer work I’ve done, I think it shows I’m qualified and responsible.”

      Paul nodded.

      Bethanne relaxed. “Okay, be honest now,” she said. “If you were a bank officer, would you give me the loan?”

      His hesitation was enough to make her heart stop. “Paul?”

      “You said you wanted me to be honest.”

      “Yes.” She wouldn’t have it any other way.

      “It’s going to be a hard sell. There are disadvantages—and advantages. The fact that you’ve never had your own credit is a negative. So is the fact that you haven’t had a paying job in the last eighteen years.”

      “What can I do to make the loan application more attractive?” she asked.

      “Show the bank your business records for the work you’ve done this summer.”

      Bethanne was afraid he’d say that. She wasn’t much good at this sort of thing and really needed to take a class to learn basic accounting. All her receipts were crammed in a shoe-box. Perhaps Andrew and Annie might be able to help. She recalled that her son had taken a bookkeeping class as a junior, but he was so busy these days with football and his part-time job. And now school was starting again.

      “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” That ironic male voice was easily recognizable to Bethanne.

      She smiled serenely. “Hello, Grant.”

      Her ex-husband stared at Bethanne and Paul. He didn’t look good; his shirt was wrinkled—not badly, but it wasn’t pressed the way she used to do it. Grant had always been meticulous about his appearance. He needed a haircut, and that was another surprise. He used to have regular appointments. Bethanne knew, because she was the one who’d set up those appointments. They’d been apart for two years, so one would think he’d manage to survive without her by now.

      “You know Paul, don’t you?” Bethanne said casually, gesturing toward Tiffany’s ex-husband. Paul lowered his sandwich to the napkin, looked up at Grant and nodded.

      “I believe we’ve met,” Grant muttered.

      “I understand congratulations are in order,” Bethanne said, hoping to cover the awkward silence. “Annie told me you and Tiffany recently got married. Congratulations.”

      He nodded. “Thank you.”

      “I hope you’re very happy,” Bethanne said sincerely. A short while ago, those words might have been filled with sarcasm, but they weren’t now. She felt no animosity toward Grant. She’d once loved him, heart and soul, but he’d betrayed that love and whatever she’d felt for him had been destroyed. That didn’t mean—or it no longer did—that she wanted vengeance. Or that she begrudged him happiness just because he hadn’t found it with her. The moment she’d realized that, she’d finally released him and the bitterness that surrounded their divorce.

      “I see Paul’s lucky enough to have you packing his lunch these days,” Grant said. He looked longingly at the sandwich. “You made the best corned beef sandwiches I ever tasted.”

      “I’m helping Bethanne with some paperwork,” Paul explained.

      Bethanne wanted to elaborate, but stopped herself. This really had nothing to do with Grant. Other than the fact that he was the father of her children, they had little in common any more. The twenty-year history they shared had become irrelevant.

      “I see.” Grant offered them both a weak smile.

      “It’s a lovely afternoon, which is why Paul suggested we meet in the park,” she added.

      Grant seemed uncomfortable. “I saw you here and thought I’d drop by and say hello.” He turned to Paul. “Good to see you again.”

      Bethanne doubted he really meant that. She studied Grant and instinctively knew he wasn’t happy. “Is everything okay?” she asked and immediately wished she hadn’t. Even if there was a problem, he wasn’t likely to talk about it in front of Paul.

      “Everything’s just great,” he said but his words rang hollow.

      The two men stared at each other.

      “Andrew said you paid for his football camp.” Grant turned his attention back to her.

      Bethanne hadn’t realized Andrew was speaking to his father. This was a good sign, and she was encouraged that father and son had made an effort to overcome their differences.

      “You challenged me to find a way to support myself,” Bethanne said with a laugh, “and I have. If nothing else, I should