Summer on Blossom Street (26 page)

Phoebe Rylander

P
hoebe wasn’t a baseball fan. However, when Hutch invited her to attend Stitch and Pitch night at the Mariners’ game, she was eager to accept. Everyone in the class had gotten tickets and it would be an enjoyable Thursday evening, quite different from her usual activities.

Hutch picked her up at work and had dressed in a Mariners’ jersey, complete with baseball cap. She had to admit he looked athletic and rather charming in a boyish manner. She knew he’d started working out at a gym three mornings a week and it showed. In fact, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

Judging by the way he kept stealing glances at her, the feeling was mutual. Ever since Monday night when Clark had tried to deceive her, Phoebe had a renewed appreciation of Hutch. He was honest and forthright,
whereas anything Clark said simply couldn’t be trusted. With him, the truth was all too flexible.

The crowds streamed into the stadium. As she and Hutch reached their seats, he left her to stand in a long line to purchase the ever-popular hot dogs.

Phoebe watched the pitcher warm up, and the excitement in the crowd was contagious. She saw Lydia, Brad, Casey and Cody filing into the row in front of her and Hutch, half a dozen seats to the right. Both kids had catcher’s mitts, obviously hoping for foul balls. Lydia had her knitting; Phoebe had brought hers, too.

“Hello,” she called out.

Grinning, Lydia turned around. “Hi! I don’t suppose you’ve seen Margaret, have you?”

Phoebe nodded. “She was in line at the ladies’ room.”

“Oh, good. She made it.”

“Elise Beaumont was there, too.”

“I’m glad Margaret managed to talk her into coming,” Lydia said.

“There’s Anne Marie.” Phoebe impulsively stood up to wave. Ellen was with her, as well as another couple she didn’t recognize. Anne Marie waved back from several rows below.

Sitting down again, Phoebe leaned forward to ask Lydia, “Who’s that couple with Anne Marie and Ellen?”

Lydia shaded her eyes, peering down at them, then shook her head. “I don’t know.” After a moment she twisted around to speak to Phoebe again. “Anne Marie’s been dating this guy named Tim, but I don’t think that’s him.”

“Why not?”

“Well, mainly because he’s holding hands with the other woman.”

“Oh.”

She craned her neck to get a better view. “The thing is, it sort of looks like him.”

“You’ve met him?”

“Once, when I dropped into the bookstore to pick something up and he was there.”

Hutch returned, holding a cardboard container laden with two huge hot dogs slathered with condiments, including sauerkraut and mustard, plus two giant-size sodas and a bag of hot, roasted peanuts.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he warned, sitting down beside her.

“Starved.”

“Did you bring me any chocolate, Mr. Mount Rainier?” Margaret asked, scooting past several other people in order to sit next to her sister. Elise trailed behind her, knitting in hand.

“Sorry, no.”

“Don’t apologize! I appreciate it.”

Phoebe nudged him in the ribs. Ever since the knitting group had heard that he was the head of Mount Rainier Chocolates, Hutch had gotten into the habit of bringing chocolate to class. The Mount Saint Helens bar had launched nationally and, according to Hutch, had been well received. The sales reports were just coming back and he was thrilled with its success so far.

“Look!” Cody shouted, leaping to his feet. “We’re on the big screen!”

Phoebe swiveled her head to the huge screen, and sure enough, the entire knitting section was on display. Cody, waving both arms, stood out prominently.

Phoebe laughed, and then everyone in the group held up their knitting. Unprepared, Hutch and Phoebe scrambled to flaunt their sampler scarves. She nearly dumped her hot dog on Margaret’s head in the process, but saved it from catapulting forward in the nick of time.

Knitters sat on every side of them and the mood was jovial as they showed one another their current efforts. Several yarn stores had set up booths by the concession stands and Phoebe couldn’t resist looking—and buying.

Until now, she’d resisted purchasing yarn for anything beyond her current project. She’d discovered that she enjoyed knitting; the problem was, she didn’t have enough free time now that she was seeing Hutch almost every day. She’d taken to knitting during her lunch break, which was the only reason she’d been able to keep up with the class.

Next Wednesday, the first Wednesday of August, would be their last class. She’d be finished with her scarf, and she wanted to start something new. She chose sock yarn in the Mariners’ colors, thinking she’d take another class—this one on sock-knitting taught by Elise—and give the finished product to Hutch.

“What did you buy?” Hutch asked when she rejoined him.

She opened the bag and proudly revealed her booty. “I’m going to learn to knit socks.”

“Terrific.”

“Do you like the colors?” she asked.

“You bet.” He smiled down at her—and kept smiling.

For that matter so did Phoebe. Although they were
surrounded by thousands of cheering fans, they were gazing only at each other.

“I thought I’d knit them for you,” she whispered.

He didn’t say anything, but reached for her hand and entwined their fingers, his grip hard. She squeezed back, wanting him to know she shared the intensity of his feelings.

“Excuse me, guys,” Alix said, hurrying past.

“Oh, sorry,” Hutch said, standing up so Alix and Jordan could get by.

“Where are they off to in such a hurry?” Phoebe asked no one in particular.

“No idea,” Margaret answered, her fingers moving the crochet hook with speed and dexterity. She seemed to be working on an afghan. Casey was crocheting, too, and Lydia was knitting. What most impressed Phoebe was that Lydia could knit without even looking at the needles. Phoebe, on the other hand, watched every single stitch for fear of making a mistake. The thought of having to rip out a row traumatized her, although she’d been forced to do so often enough.

A few minutes later, Alix was back, this time without Jordan. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she stepped over Phoebe’s feet. “All of a sudden I had to get to a restroom.” She slipped past the couple sitting next to them.

Jordan followed soon after, apologizing as he did. He carried one hot dog and a soda, and when he sat down beside Alix, Phoebe noticed that the two of them were sharing the meal. Living on a youth pastor’s salary probably made it difficult to splurge on dinner out two nights in a single week.

Phoebe knew from class yesterday that they’d
squabbled, although she didn’t know about what. Apparently that had happened before she’d arrived. At the end of class, Jordan had stopped by to pick up Alix as usual. He’d stood by the door, looking depressed, not at all his normal outgoing self.

As soon as Alix saw her husband, she’d set her knitting down and rushed to his side. For a long moment, all they did was stare at each other—and then Jordan had reached out and grabbed Alix with both arms, hugging her close.

Later that evening, just as she and Hutch had gone off in different directions, Phoebe caught sight of Alix and Jordan in a burger place, their heads together, eating and talking animatedly.

Obviously whatever strain had existed between them yesterday afternoon had passed.

Tonight’s game ended with the Mariners winning at the bottom of the ninth. The crowd was jubilant as they poured out of Safeco Field. Walking hand in hand, Phoebe and Hutch made their way to the parking lot, where Hutch had left his vehicle.

For the first time that evening, he seemed somewhat withdrawn. She didn’t need to ask what was troubling him—the lawsuit against Mount Rainier Chocolates. He’d occasionally mentioned it, never disclosing very much. She’d also seen an article about the lawsuit in the paper, but it hadn’t provided any more information than she already had.

“How about a cup of coffee at my place?” she suggested.

He smiled at her and nodded, making a visible effort to resume his cheerful attitude.

She swallowed painfully. She was going to confess
that she’d misled him—and everyone in the knitting class—about her fiancé. She should never have let the pretence go on for this long.

But when she was with Hutch there were so many other things to talk about. Still, he’d recently commented on the fact that she didn’t have any pictures of her fiancé around the condo. For a moment his remark had jarred her, until she remembered that he thought Clark was dead.

She trusted that he’d forgive her this foolish deception, which had taken on a life, a momentum, of its own.

She also hoped that after tonight’s confession, he’d feel free to share his worries over this lawsuit. In her opinion, the entire matter was frivolous, a waste of time. But whenever she’d asked him about it, Hutch had brushed aside her questions and said his attorney was handling it. He always added that he wasn’t really worried. Only he was. That seemed very clear tonight.

Once they were at her condo, she put away her yarn purchase, ground fresh beans and made a small pot of coffee, just enough for two cups.

She joined Hutch in the living room and handed him his mug.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she began softly.

Hutch stiffened, almost as if he knew what was coming—although he couldn’t possibly. “Okay,” he said. “Is it serious?”

She nodded. “I’ve been lying to you.”

Hutch carefully set his mug on the low table beside him. “I’d rather deal with the truth now than later.”

She took a sip of her coffee, then glanced down. “When I signed up for the knitting class, I told everyone I was engaged and that my fiancé died.”

“So he’s not dead?” Hutch frowned and anxiety flared in his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you’re married.”

Despite her nervousness, she smiled. “No, he’s not dead and I’m not married. It’s nothing like that.”

His shoulders slumped with relief.

“I was engaged and in love with a man who…” She paused, finding it difficult to continue. “I broke off the engagement two months ago, when I discovered he’d been arrested for solicitation.”

Hutch pressed his hand over hers. He didn’t say anything.

“It happened before this, too. I took him back the first time…”

“The first time you knew about,” he commented.

“Exactly. I have to suspect there were other instances.”

“Oh, Phoebe.”

“He managed to convince me it would never happen again, and I believed him.” She didn’t mention the pressure she was under from both Clark’s family and her own to forgive and forget.

“I’m sorry.”

She licked her lips, which felt dry and cracked. “I did what I had to do, ended the engagement, and although it was painful I don’t regret it, not for a second.” Telling Hutch about Clark’s most recent attempt to get her to take him back would only upset him. Phoebe decided to say nothing.

“So when you enrolled in the Knit to Quit class, it was because you were trying to stop loving your fiancé?”

Lowering her head, Phoebe nodded.

“Has it helped?”

She looked up at him and grinned. “More than you’ll
ever know. I was crushed, devastated, humiliated, angry. I realize now that while I did love Clark, his actions killed all the feelings I had for him.”

Hutch brought her close and touched his forehead to hers. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I couldn’t lie to you any longer.”

He kissed the tip of her nose, lightly, tenderly, in a way she’d come to adore. His gentleness stirred her more than a dozen passionate caresses. Slipping her arms around his neck, she raised her mouth to his and they kissed for a long time, each kiss connecting them on a deeper level. She leaned against his shoulder, her head spinning with desire. Hutch’s breathing was ragged.

They sat like that, satiated and at peace, for a while.

“Tell me about the lawsuit,” she finally said.

Hutch exhaled. “There isn’t much to tell.”

“You’re worried, though.”

“I am. My attorney’s agreed to fight it but he’d prefer that I settled out of court. I refuse to do that. It would be like an admission of guilt. However, my attorney feels I’m taking a terrible risk letting this case go to trial.” Hutch was silent for a moment. “The suit’s raised a lot of interest nationwide. If I lose, it opens the door for other people to sue the larger companies, claiming chocolate is addictive. And what about alcoholics suing wineries? Or prescription-drug abusers blaming the pharmaceuticals? You see what I mean. There’s a lot more at stake than meets the eye.”

“Is it worth all this angst?” she asked, siding with his attorney. In this particular instance it might be best to simply pay off this idiotic woman and be done with it.

“I don’t know,” he admitted with some reluctance. “I turned down their first settlement offer. I can’t see handing over such a large chunk of cash just to make this go away. When my attorney suggested we might be willing to settle, the plaintiff came back with an even higher demand.”

“Greed does nasty things to a person.”

“No kidding. Besides, who’s to say I won’t be sued again next week, next month, next year? It’s dangerous either way. I’d rather confront this head-on and have it dealt with once and for all.”

Phoebe sighed. “I wish there was something I could do.”

“There is.”

“What?” she asked eagerly.

He folded her in his embrace. “Let me hold you for a few more minutes,” he whispered. “When you’re in my arms I can’t think of anything else.”

Hutch might not be as eloquent as Clark had been, but his words were sincere. His emotions were real.

Anne Marie Roche

T
his was going to be difficult; Anne Marie could see it already. As Tim had repeatedly reminded her, she was the one who’d insisted on being present when Ellen met Vanessa. That was certainly true, but Anne Marie didn’t think meeting at the Mariners’ game for Stitch and Pitch night—meeting “accidentally on purpose”—was such a brilliant idea. She’d agreed to do it his way, although it went against her instincts.

That had been her first mistake. They’d arrived at the game as planned and were headed toward their seats when Tim had called out to them. He’d made a pretense of just noticing them.

The evening had gone downhill from there.

Vanessa had been openly hostile to Anne Marie. To Ellen she’d been patronizing and saccharine sweet. The worst part, as far as Anne Marie was concerned, was
that Tim didn’t appear to perceive anything amiss with Vanessa’s behavior. To all outward appearances, he seemed to feel the meeting couldn’t have gone better.

In Anne Marie’s opinion, the whole experience had been a disaster. Now that they were home and Ellen was preparing for bed, she had a chance to mull over the events of the evening.

“Mom,” Ellen called from her bedroom. “I’m ready.”

Time for their nightly ritual. Ellen climbed into bed with Baxter cuddled next to her. Anne Marie knelt on the floor so Ellen could say her prayers.

“Did you enjoy the baseball game?” Anne Marie asked.

“It was all right.”

It wasn’t for Anne Marie, but she couldn’t tell Ellen that.

The girl looked guilelessly up at her. “I thought
you
were Tim’s girlfriend.”

Doing her best to sound calm and serene, Anne Marie smiled down at her daughter. “Tim and Vanessa are a couple.”

“Oh.” Ellen frowned. “But he took you out to dinner by yourself, remember?”

Anne Marie wasn’t likely to forget. “Vanessa was there,” she half-lied. Perhaps not in the physical sense but in every other way Tim’s girlfriend had been with them.

“You didn’t tell me about her.”

Anne Marie realized she didn’t actually know very much about the other woman. “I guess I should’ve told you earlier,” she said.

In a short time Ellen had grown close to Tim. She
admired him and talked about him incessantly. Along with Brad, Mark and Hector he was a positive male figure, and Anne Marie wouldn’t say or do anything to jeopardize that special relationship.

“I know meeting Vanessa was a surprise.” Tim had wanted to be the one to introduce Vanessa to Ellen, and Anne Marie had agreed. In retrospect it would’ve been a hundred times better if she’d been able to lead up to the subject of this other woman. She wished now that she’d suggested it and regretted that she hadn’t.

“You like Tim, don’t you?” Ellen asked.

For fear her voice would give her away, Anne Marie nodded instead.

“And he likes you?”

“Yes,” she said, “just not in a girlfriend-boyfriend way.”

“Oh.” Clearly Ellen was disappointed as well as confused.

Who could blame her? “The person Tim really loves is you,” Anne Marie murmured.

“Me?” Ellen’s eyes flashed with delight. “I like him, too. He makes me laugh and takes us neat places.”

“Yes, he does. Besides, Tim knew your grandmother and your other mom.” Anne Marie didn’t believe it was her place to inform the child that she was Tim’s biological daughter. She’d leave that to him—at a mutually acceptable time and place. This evening had taught her a valuable lesson. She wasn’t about to let Tim blurt out the news without first laying the groundwork.

Ellen’s dark eyes widened. “He knew my Grandma Dolores? How come I never met him till now?”

Anne Marie wasn’t prepared to answer that question.
She’d already stretched the truth about as far as it would go. “You’ll need to ask Tim the next time he stops by.”

“Will Vanessa be there?”

“Probably. You like her, don’t you?”

Ellen shrugged. “She’s okay, but she talks to me like I’m a baby.”

“She’ll learn,” Anne Marie assured her and prayed that was true. “Vanessa’s a very nice person.” She almost gritted her teeth as she said it.

Ellen seemed to consider that and then nodded. “She must be if Tim loves her.”

Good point. Anne Marie hadn’t thought of it in those terms. Out of the mouths of nine-year-olds…

“You’re right.” Anne Marie reached for Ellen’s small hands and closed her eyes, prepared to listen while the child said her prayers. These sometimes went on for three or four minutes. She asked God to bless Anne Marie first, then listed all her friends from school and day camp, followed by her Blossom Street friends and finally Tim. She hesitated and added Vanessa to the list.

“Amen,” Ellen said, opening her eyes.

“Amen,” Anne Marie echoed and kissed Ellen’s cheek. She stroked Baxter’s silky fur, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Restless and unsure, Anne Marie folded her arms and paced the kitchen, mulling over the conversation with her daughter. The truth was, she’d been hostile toward Vanessa. Well, maybe not hostile, but certainly not hospitable. She resented the other woman, who’d ruined the perfect scenario she’d created for Ellen, Tim and her.

Anne Marie was shocked to discover how strong her feelings for Tim were. She hadn’t expected that in the
beginning. But the transformation in her attitude had been gradual. He’d been so good, so natural, with Ellen. Anne Marie had watched him closely, initially unwilling to trust him, yet he’d earned her trust. Earned it to the point that she’d lowered her guard. She’d half convinced herself she was falling in love with him.

When he’d told her about Vanessa, she’d been angry and embarrassed, but in retrospect she understood that Tim had been in a difficult position. He’d already sprung the news that he was Ellen’s biological father. He’d tried to be fair, giving Anne Marie a chance to get used to that reality before he introduced Vanessa into their lives, as well. Whether it was the best way to handle the situation didn’t matter. What was done was done.

Unfortunately her relationship with Vanessa had started badly. They were both at fault, because both felt threatened. If it was ever going to be made right, Anne Marie would need to reach out to the other woman.

The next morning, she decided to get in touch with Vanessa as soon as possible. She’d have to ask Tim for her phone number; she’d call him later. After taking Ellen to day camp, she opened the bookstore. She was still counting cash into the till when she saw Tim standing at the door. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night.

“Good morning,” she greeted him cheerfully.

He frowned.

“It isn’t a good morning?” she teased, smiling at him.

Slowly he smiled back. “It is now,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to be in such a happy mood.”

“Why not?”

He scratched his head. “Vanessa didn’t feel things went well last night.”

Anne Marie broke a roll of quarters and added them to the register drawer. “They didn’t, but I take responsibility for that.”

“You do?”

“I wasn’t as…friendly as I might’ve been to Vanessa. I owe her—and you—an apology.”

Tim just stared at her, as if he wasn’t sure he should believe what she’d said. “You?”

“I should’ve taken Vanessa’s feelings into account more. She felt I’d intruded on her territory, didn’t she?”

“Well…yes, something like that.”

This next part was the most difficult. “You were right—I’m afraid I read more into the situation between you and me than I should have. That probably caused a certain amount of animosity in our initial meeting.” She was embarrassed to admit this, but he already knew. It wasn’t as though she’d done a good job of hiding her feelings.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said, eager to change the subject. “If you’ll give me Vanessa’s phone number, I’ll call her and see if I can make amends. I’m sure she feels as awkward about what happened at the game as I do.”

Tim stepped closer to the counter as he scribbled a number on the back of his business card. “Can you tell me exactly what
did
happen?”

Anne Marie shrugged. “It was nothing really. Just undercurrents between the two of us.” Basically they’d stared daggers at each other. It had been a juvenile display that Anne Marie regretted.

“What did Ellen think of Vanessa?” Tim asked.

Anne Marie didn’t answer immediately. “She told me that if you love Vanessa, she must be very special.” No need to mention the comment about Vanessa speaking to her as if she were a baby.

Some of the tension seemed to leave Tim’s shoulders. “She actually said that?”

“She did.”

“You don’t mind if I tell Vanessa, do you?”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

He was almost at the door when she stopped him. “It’s time, you know.”

He turned around. “Time?”

“For you to tell Ellen that you’re her father. In her heart I think she already knows. The news isn’t going to upset her.”

Tim swallowed hard and nodded. “Would it be okay if I came by this evening?”

“That would be perfect. In the meantime, I’ll contact Vanessa.”

Anne Marie waited until midmorning to call Tim’s friend. At first the conversation didn’t go well.

“What do you want?” Vanessa demanded the instant she answered her cell phone.

Anne Marie had to bite her tongue to keep from responding in kind. “It seems to me that you and I should try to be friends,” she said calmly.

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.”

“It will if we both make the effort,” Anne Marie told her. “The thing is, I behaved badly last evening and I want to apologize.”

“Sure you do.”

Anne Marie ignored that. “For Tim and Ellen’s sake, I’d like to suggest we start over.”

The phone went silent and for a moment Anne Marie thought the other woman had hung up.

“Vanessa, are you there?”

“I’m here.”

Despite the inclination to give this up as useless, she tried again. “Would you be willing to accept my apology?”

Vanessa hesitated. In a lower voice, she answered, “All right.”

“I mean it, Vanessa. I’m not a threat to your relationship with Tim. For him and for Ellen, it would help if you and I could come to some agreement.”

“You agree to keep your hands off Tim, and we’ll get along fine.”

“No problem.”

“Good.”

Anne Marie smiled, relieved that she’d done what she needed to do. “Friends?” she asked.

After a short pause, Vanessa repeated the word, again with some hesitation. “Friends.”

“Thank you.”

“Stick to being Ellen’s mother, and everything will work out just fine.”

“I will,” she promised. “It was a pleasure talking to you,” she said. “Goodbye.”

“Anne Marie,” Vanessa said quickly. “This couldn’t have been an easy call to make. I want you to know I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. I hope to see you soon.”

“And you.”

The truth was, Anne Marie would probably never be
close friends with Vanessa but at least they understood each other now. Both were determined to make the best of an awkward situation.

The rest of the day, Anne Marie and Teresa were busy with customers. There was a run on the newest installment of a popular series, and Anne Marie found herself constantly occupied—for which she was grateful. About four-thirty, just before Ellen was due to return, Tim walked back into the store.

He looked, if anything, even worse than he had that morning. “Is Ellen here?” he asked.

“Not yet. I thought you were coming tonight.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I can wait that long. Now that the decision’s been made, I want to get this over with.”

Anne Marie could understand. “I’d like to be in the room when you do,” she said. “Are you okay with that?”

He nodded, hands buried in his pants pockets.

A few minutes later, Ellen ran into the store with her backpack bobbing on her shoulders. “Mom, Mom!” She stopped abruptly when she saw Tim, glancing from him back to Anne Marie.

“Hello again,” Tim said in a deceptively casual voice.

“Hi. Vanessa’s not with you?”

“Not this time.”

“Tim has something he wants to tell you,” Anne Marie said, reminding Tim that his visit had a purpose. She turned to Teresa, who’d been taking a phone order. “I’m going to the apartment for a few minutes. Would you cover for me?”

“Sure thing.”

The three of them walked up the stairs, Ellen first, then Anne Marie and Tim. Having heard Ellen’s voice, Baxter waited on the landing, eager to go out for his afternoon walk. He scurried into the bedroom and returned with the leash in his mouth. Ellen was proud of teaching him that trick.

“In a few minutes,” Anne Marie told her Yorkie, bending to pick him up.

“Let’s sit down,” Tim said, motioning to the sofa.

Ellen did, and Anne Marie sat next to her with Baxter on her lap. She hooked her free arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

Tim looked ashen as if he didn’t know where to start or how.

Ellen sighed loudly enough for him to hear. He turned to her and opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“Are you my father?” she asked unexpectedly.

Tim nodded and sank to the carpet on his knees in front of her. His eyes were moist. “Yes, Ellen. I’m your father.”

“I thought so.” Smiling up at Anne Marie, she said, “I wanted to meet my father, remember? It was one of my wishes. Then you told me that Tim knew Grandma Dolores and my other mom and I knew God had sent me my daddy.”

With that she hurled her arms around Tim’s neck and hugged him fiercely. “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Anne Marie felt tears in her own eyes.

They’d make this work, all of them. For Ellen.