The Shop on Blossom Street

Doug appeared then. “To which hospital did your friend take the mother?”



“Swedish,” Alix told him. “Do you still want me to come with you?”



Doug nodded. “I called Larry,” he said, mentioning the name of a good family friend. Larry was an attorney who worked for the insurance company that employed Doug. “He said I should go to the mother and call him from the hospital.”



“What should I do?” Carol wanted to know.



“For now, stay here. Look after the baby. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”



“All right.” Carol didn’t know how long she’d have the opportunity to nurture and guard this child, but she intended to treasure each moment.



Minutes later, Doug and Alix hurried out the door. Carol moved into the nursery, this room she’d decorated with such anticipation and care. Each item, each piece of furniture, had been an affirmation of hope and joy…and had become a symbol of her pain.



Sinking down in the cushioned rocker, she cradled the sleeping infant and sang him a lullaby. His entry into the world had been abrupt and frightening, but he was safe now. And he’d always be safe if she and Doug could possibly arrange it.



Carol lost all track of time as she cradled the baby, rocking gently back and forth. She might’ve been there an hour, possibly two. It didn’t matter. The happiness that stole over her was complete.



The baby woke, cried huskily and after Carol had changed his diaper, she fed him a second bottle. He returned to sleep and she settled him in the crib, then stood over him, one hand pressed to his tiny back.



Doug came home shortly after eight but without Alix. When he found Carol in the nursery—the first place he looked—he stood beside her, his gaze on the sleeping baby. Then he drew Carol into his arms, and hugged her so close she could hardly breathe.



“What happened?” she asked.



His eyes were bright with unshed tears and his voice trembled. “We have to take him to the hospital and have him checked out, but it looks like we have a son. Laurel was more than agreeable to letting us adopt him. She insisted to the authorities that it’d been her plan all along.”



Tears flooded her eyes as they clung to each other, weeping with happiness. A baby. A miracle of life, a gift that had come from the most unlikely of places at the most unbelievable of times.



She’d known from the first day she’d walked into the yarn store. The fact that they were knitting baby blankets had been a sign from God—and He had kept His promise.



CHAPTER 48



JACQUELINE DONOVAN The Next Year



J acqueline could hardly contain her excitement as she drove toward Paul and Tammie Lee’s house. She’d been on a cruise with Reese for the last three weeks and was badly in need of what she called a “grandbaby fix.” Little Amelia was almost walking now and Jacqueline considered her granddaughter the cutest, smartest baby in the entire universe. Not that she was biased or anything…



First she’d collect the requisite hugs and kisses from Amelia, and then her next stop would be Lydia’s store. She’d found the loveliest yarn in a tiny shop in one of the Greek islands during their Mediterranean cruise, and she was eager to show it to her.



Tammie Lee was watering the flower beds and Amelia, balanced against her hip, waved her chubby arms at a passing butterfly when Jacqueline pulled into the driveway. The back seat was loaded with gifts she and Reese had purchased on their trip, but none of that was important just now. The sooner she held her granddaughter, the better.



“Amelia, Amelia, Grandma’s home.” Jacqueline slid out of her car and held her arms open to her baby girl.



Amelia squealed with delight and reached for Jacqueline. It didn’t matter that the child was teething and slobber ran freely down her chin and onto her designer bib. All Jacqueline cared about was holding this beautiful baby once again.



“Welcome home,” Tammie Lee said with a wide smile. She bent down to turn off the water and dragged the hose back to the side of the house. “What time did you and Dad get in last night?”



“Late.” Had it been a decent hour, Jacqueline would’ve raced over to kiss Amelia good-night, but Reese had convinced her everyone would be asleep.



“I’m still adjusting to the time change,” she said, hugging her daughter-in-law. The love she felt for Tammie Lee was genuine now. Jacqueline had gradually grown close to her. Tammie Lee’s natural, unforced kindness, her generosity and willingness to assume the best, had transformed Jacqueline’s rigid view of life, and in the process brought the entire family together. Her practical wisdom had opened Jacqueline’s eyes to what she was doing to Reese and to herself. Without Tammie Lee, Jacqueline wondered how long her marriage could possibly have lasted.



“We missed you both something fierce,” Tammie Lee said, taking Amelia from Jacqueline as she led the way into the house. The nine-month-old was on a mission to explore every cupboard and corner she could find.



Tammie Lee headed into the kitchen, where she settled Amelia in her high chair and brought out a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses.



Amelia banged her fists against the tray and gurgled in apparent approval. From the beginning she’d been a happy, cheerful child, just like her mother. Jacqueline walked over to the cookie jar for a graham cracker and broke it into manageable chunks. Amelia immediately grabbed one, gleefully shoving it into her mouth and gumming it with such an expression of delight, it might have been the world’s finest delicacy.



“It’s so good to be home.” Jacqueline sighed as she accepted the glass of tea, complete with a sprig of mint.



“Sit down, and tell me all about exploring the Greek Isles,” Tammie Lee insisted. “I declare, this is the most romantic trip I’ve ever heard of. I just hope Paul and I are as much in love thirty-three years down the road as you and Dad. It sounded just like a honeymoon.”



Her daughter-in-law was closer to the truth than she’d ever know. Jacqueline’s marriage was vastly different since the night she’d confronted Reese about his Tuesday-night-mistress-who-wasn’t. From that moment on, everything had changed for the better. The very next day he’d moved back into the master bedroom with her. Together they explored the delights of married love and gradually, over the next few months, they’d worked on rebuilding what they’d been so ready to destroy.



“I just hope Paul’s as romantic as his father,” Jacqueline murmured, playing with Amelia. “Oh, I swear she’s grown so much these last three weeks.”



Accepting her right to be the center of attention, Amelia Jacqueline Donovan grinned a toothy radiant smile, her cheeks smeared with mushed-up graham cracker.



“You’re such a cutie pie,” Jacqueline cooed. The love she felt for this child was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Amelia and her mother had changed Jacqueline’s life in ways she could never have predicted.



Thirty minutes later, Jacqueline had emptied the back seat of her car. She hugged Tammie Lee goodbye and covered Amelia’s now-clean face with grandma kisses, then reluctantly drove off.



She went to A Good Yarn next. Luck was with her, and she slid into a vacant parking spot directly in front of the store. The Blossom Street renovation project was completed now. The brick apartment building where Alix had once lived had been turned into swanky, updated condominiums; they sold for prices that shocked even Jacqueline. Alix, however, liked her new home better, as well she should, seeing that she was living in the guest house formerly occupied by Martha, who had retired. Who would’ve believed when they first met that Alix would become as close as family?



“Jacqueline,” Lydia cried as the bell chimed above the door. “Welcome back! How was the cruise?”



“Fabulous. Reese and I loved every minute of it.” She opened the shopping bag and pulled out a skein of the Greek yarn, a wool-cashmere blend in a soft shade of mauve with flecks of white. “Look what I found.”



Lydia examined the yarn, weaving it between her fingers, then letting it run through her fingers. She handed it to Margaret. “Feel this,” she said. “It’s incredible.”



“I bought enough to knit a sweater. I didn’t have a clue how much I’d need, so I bought everything they had. You can have whatever I’ve got left over.”



After Margaret had exclaimed over the yarn, Lydia handled it again. “Where did you ever find this?”



“On an island. I can’t remember the name right now. Reese went with me from store to store in my search for yarn. His memory’s better than mine—I’ll ask him.”



“Reese helped you search for yarn?” Lydia shook her head laughingly. “Most husbands would consider that above and beyond the call of duty.”



“We do everything together these days,” Jacqueline confessed and although she would’ve objected had anyone pointed it out, she blushed. This trip with Reese was the second honeymoon every couple should have at least once in their marriage.



“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you—”



“Happier,” Jacqueline finished for her. She’d heard that over and over again from family and friends. She had no intention of denying it; she was happy.



“Actually, I was going to say you’re looking tanned,” Lydia said with a mischievous smile.



Jacqueline extended both her arms. “Oh, that. Reese had me out on every golf course in the Mediterranean.” She grinned. “I’ve got a wicked slice if I do say so myself, and I’m a formidable putter.” She glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to scoot. I’m meeting Reese at the country club in an hour—we’re having drinks with some old friends. I need to run over to the house first.”



“It’s so good to have you back,” Lydia said, hugging her. “Will you be here on Friday?”



“Of course!” Jacqueline waved away her question as if the answer should be understood. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”



With that she was off, eager to join her husband—the man she loved.



CHAPTER 49



CAROL GIRARD



“C ameron Douglas Girard, what are you doing?”



Cameron gazed up from the carpet where he sat sorting through his daddy’s sock drawer. The nine-month-old grinned up at her guilelessly as Carol stood with her hands on her hips, trying hard to look stern while struggling not to laugh. “Come here,” she said, lifting her baby boy into her arms. Raising him high, she pressed her mouth against his bare belly and made a loud smooching noise. Cameron let out a squeal of pleasure. When she lowered him, he buried his face in her shoulder, gripping her hair with both hands, gurgling and chattering.



In this past year, Carol had learned about a whole new facet of love—about how much one person could love another and how much a mother could love her child. Cameron might not have come from her womb, but he was her son in every way that counted.



“It’s time for our walk,” she told him.



Cameron knew what that meant and squirmed, wanting her to put him down. She did, quickly returning Doug’s socks to the bottom drawer of their chest of drawers. Then she carried Cam to his room, where she dressed him in tiny jeans and a hand-knit sweater. The pants were a gift from her brother, who’d sent them, plus a matching jacket, shortly after the adoption was completed. Released again, Cameron crawled rapidly toward the stroller. Once he reached it, he pulled himself into a standing position, then looked over his shoulder to be sure she’d noticed his feat and appreciated his skill. Cameron loved their walks.