Twenty Wishes

Elise linked arms with her as they crossed the street. “You’re so thin now I’m afraid a strong wind will blow you away.”



“Oh, come on, Elise. Don’t exaggerate.”



“It’s a problem I wish I had,” Elise muttered. “When Maverick died, I’m afraid I buried my sorrows in food. Isn’t that ridiculous, considering how closely I watched his diet?” Unexpectedly she smiled. “He said he ate like a bird—flax seed, blueberries, wheat germ…Maverick had such a delightful sense of humor. I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever stop missing him.” She shook her head and brought her attention back to Anne Marie.



The French Café was the most popular restaurant on Blossom Street; even now, at almost two, it was crowded with lunchtime customers.



Alix Turner, who baked all the pastries, belonged to one of Anne Marie’s reader groups and often recommended the bookstore to others.



When it was their turn to order, both Anne Marie and Elise chose the squash soup. While they waited for the server to deliver their order, they sipped their coffee.



“Tell me what’s wrong,” Elise said.



“Why don’t we wait until after we eat?” Anne Marie murmured, not eager to discuss Robert’s infidelity.



Elise looked at her sternly. “Don’t put it off. Whatever happened is tearing you up inside. You’ll feel better if you share it—if not with me, then someone else. Frankly, I’m your best option.”



Anne Marie had to laugh; some of the things Elise said verged on egotistical. Fortunately she knew the other woman well enough not to take offense.



“Let’s talk about our Twenty Wishes instead,” Anne Marie said. “Are you working on your list?”



“I am.” Elise smiled. “I’m determined to go on a hot air balloon ride. That one’s at the top of my list.” She hesitated. “I have another wish….”



“Which is?”



“You promise not to laugh or try to talk me out of it?”



“Of course.” There was the matter of those red cowboy boots, for one thing.



“I’m going to get a tattoo.”



What? Elise? Anne Marie nearly swallowed her tongue. “Have you decided where?”



“There’s a tattoo parlor near the waterfront and—”



“No, I meant where on you. Your shoulder or—”



“Oh, I’m not sure yet. Maverick had one. On his right arm.” The older woman looked flustered. “But that’s enough about me. Tell me what’s troubling you.”



Anne Marie would rather avoid the subject altogether; at the same time she was grateful for the chance to talk about it with someone she knew and trusted. She sighed. “I had dinner with my stepdaughter Friday night.”



“I take it the evening wasn’t pleasant.”



“No…Melissa had recently gone to Robert’s office and discovered that his personal assistant had a baby.”



Elise straightened her shoulders. “A baby…” she repeated. “Is it Robert’s?”



Anne Marie shrugged. “I’d say it’s highly probable.”



Elise’s eyes narrowed. “But you’re not sure?”



“No.”



“You’re going to find out, aren’t you?”



“I…I don’t feel it’s my place to say or do anything.”



“Yes, it is!” Elise said adamantly. “Who better than you? Robert was your husband.”



“But…”



“And so far the identity of the father is pure conjecture.”



“Well, yes, to a certain extent. Apparently while Robert and I were separated, Melissa discovered her father and Rebecca in a, uh, compromising position. Nine months later, Rebecca turns up with a baby. What else am I to think?”



Elise pursed her lips. “It does seem suspicious. The only way to know for sure is to ask her.”



Anne Marie saw the wisdom of confronting Rebecca, but she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t convinced she’d ever have the courage to speak to her. “Brandon and Melissa are the ones who need to know.”



“You, my dear, were Robert’s wife. Yes, I’m aware that you’d separated. He behaved badly, and I’m positive that if he was here, he’d tell you how much he regrets everything that happened.”



“He didn’t want another family…. Perhaps he just didn’t want children with me.”



“Don’t say that,” Elise said sharply. “Don’t think it, either. If Robert was alive he’d be aghast at this news.”



“You never knew him.”



“But I know you,” she came right back. “From what you’ve told me, Robert loved you.”



“I thought he did.” All of a sudden Anne Marie couldn’t help wondering. She’d lost Robert to a heart attack and now the vision of the man she’d so desperately loved had been destroyed. Along with it, all her dreams of the future, the hopes and promises she’d hung on to during their separation, had fizzled out to nothing.



“Don’t leap to any conclusions until you talk to Rebecca yourself,” Elise warned her. “No one has more of a right to the truth than you.”



Elise made it sound so simple, so straight forward and uncomplicated.



The server brought the steaming soup, and Anne Marie inhaled the gingery scent. For the first time in days she felt like eating. Elise reached across the table and clasped her forearm.



“Promise me you’ll contact Rebecca and ask her. Do it for yourself,” Elise said.



“I can’t….”



“You can and you will,” the other woman insisted. “Don’t you remember what Scripture says? ‘The truth shall set you free,’ and until you know the truth you’ll be held captive by your fears and doubts.”



Anne Marie merely nodded as she tasted her soup. Delicious. They’d used coconut milk, she guessed, allowing herself to be momentarily distracted.



“Find out,” Elise urged again as she picked up her spoon. “Don’t accept all this conjecture and half-baked information. Melissa might have misjudged the situation entirely.”



“I…don’t think so.” Naturally Anne Marie wanted to believe that Robert would never cheat on her. And yet she had to be realistic, too.



“But you don’t know and you won’t until you speak to this woman.”



Anne Marie was forced to agree.



“You’ll do it, then?”



Reluctantly she nodded. Not now, though, not when the pain was still so fresh and her heart was aching.



“You won’t disappoint me, will you?” Elise held her gaze for a long moment.



“No,” Anne Marie promised. “I’ll get in touch with Rebecca and I’ll ask her.”



Then and only then did Elise smile. “Remember—the truth shall set you free.”



Chapter 7



The minute Anne Marie entered the school grounds at Woodrow Wilson with Baxter on his leash, she was surrounded by children, apparently out for a late recess or an early lunch. Baxter looked up at her expectantly and, fearing the small dog might be overwhelmed, she lifted him into her arms.



“I brought Baxter to visit Ellen Falk,” she explained as the children gathered around.



By the time Anne Marie had walked inside, Ellen’s second-grade class had been dismissed for lunch. She found the little girl waiting in the hallway by the lunchroom. She stood with her back against the wall, staring down at the floor.



“Hello, Ellen.” Anne Marie spoke softly so as not to alarm her.



Ellen glanced up and when she saw Baxter, a tentative smile slid into place. “You brought him!”



“I called and Ms. Mayer said it would be all right to bring Baxter so the two of you can meet.” Bending down to her constant friend and companion, Anne Marie said, “Baxter, this is Ellen.”



Ellen stared at the dog. “Hi,” she said and offered him her hand to sniff. “Would it be okay if I petted him?” she asked, her eyes filled with longing.



“I’m sure he’d like that.”



Even with Anne Marie’s permission, Ellen hesitated as she raised her hand and gently touched the top of Baxter’s head. As if he understood how badly this little girl needed a friend, Baxter licked her hand.



“He likes you,” Anne Marie told her. “Would you like to hold him?”



The girl’s eyes grew large. “I’m allowed to do that?”



“Of course. Let me show you how to carry him.” She gave Ellen a demonstration of the way she tucked Baxter between her arm and her side, then handed her the dog.



Baxter wagged his tail, and Ellen couldn’t stop smiling.



“Shall we get some lunch?” Anne Marie asked. “Ms. Mayer said we’ll need to take our lunches back to the classroom. Is that okay?”



“Yes.” Ellen looked at her anxiously. “Baxter can come, too, can’t he?”



“Of course,” Anne Marie assured her.



The Yorkshire terrier attracted lots of curious attention as Ellen waited outside the busy cafeteria. “I’ll get our lunch while you watch Baxter,” Anne Marie said.



The menu for the day was chili with corn bread, which Anne Marie remembered was Ellen’s favorite. She chose a fresh salad and canned peaches for herself. Her appetite was improving. Since her lunch with Elise the day before, she’d actually felt the faint stirrings of hunger. Talking to her friend had made her feel calmer and more rational, although Anne Marie wasn’t ready to confront Rebecca yet. She would in time, as soon as she was emotionally prepared to deal with the other woman’s answer.



When she’d assembled their lunch, several of the children had gathered around Ellen, asking questions about Baxter.



“I have to go now,” the child told the others, and Anne Marie grinned at the importance in her voice. Ellen dutifully followed her down the hall toward the classroom, carrying Baxter as though he was the most precious burden imaginable.



The door was open and Ellen led the way to her desk. Anne Marie set the tray down and pulled up a chair next to Ellen’s.



“What about Baxter?” Ellen asked, carefully putting him down. “We can’t eat in front of him, can we? That would be impolite.”



“Yes, it would,” Anne Marie agreed. She’d brought along a small can of gourmet dog food, which was a rare treat for him. As she retrieved it from her purse, Baxter practically did flips of joy.



Ellen giggled, covered her mouth with her hand, then giggled again. “He’s so funny.”



“Yes, he is,” Anne Marie said, smiling, too.



Ellen seemed far more interested in Baxter than in eating her own lunch. She watched Baxter wolf down his food before she turned to her own plate. “One time my mama said she’d buy me a dog.”



Knowing the girl lived with her grandmother, Anne Marie wasn’t sure how to comment.



“What kind of dog do you want?”



Ellen looked up from her chili. “Any kind. But Mama made lots of promises she never kept. I live with my Grandma Dolores now.”