Blossom Street (Books 1-10). Debbie Macomber
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knocked politely at her door and Aurora stuck her head inside. “I hoped you’d join us for dinner,” she said with a pleading look. “David made a point of being home early tonight, and it would mean a great deal to me.”
Elise would rather avoid this “welcome” dinner, but there was little she could refuse her daughter, who’d been so wonderful to her throughout this legal mess. “All right.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude glistened in Aurora’s eyes.
To the best of Elise’s memory, this was the first time Aurora had shared a meal with both parents at the same table. That was a sad commentary and, for her daughter’s sake, Elise wished her marriage had ended differently. She didn’t consider herself an emotional woman, but she found Aurora’s happiness at something so simple poignant enough to bring her to tears.
When Elise finally entered the dining room, David had arrived home from the office and was pouring wine for the adults. Elise had a good relationship with David; as far as she was concerned, he was a model husband. She would be forever grateful that Aurora, unlike her, had had the sense to marry a decent, reliable man who actually worked at a real job.
Aurora was still bustling about the kitchen and Elise joined her. While David and Maverick chatted, drinking their wine, the women carried the salad, sliced roast, mashed potatoes and gravy to the table.
“It’s a feast,” Luke announced grandly.
“Just like Thanksgiving, except without the turkey,” redheaded John added, dragging his chair closer to the table. “I get to sit next to Grandpa.”
“Me too,” Luke insisted, and it seemed the boys were on the verge of breaking into another fight. Once more Maverick smoothly ended the conflict by promising to sit between them.
Despite Elise’s worries, dinner was a pleasant affair. Maverick entertained them with tales of his travels. He’d been all over the world, from Alaska to Argentina, from Paris to Polynesia, touring the places Elise had only read about in books. One day she’d see them, too, she told herself, but the likelihood of that dimmed with every message from her attorney.
Before dessert was served, Elise arranged the dishes in the dishwasher and made the coffee. As soon as she could, she’d return to her room and her knitting. Knowing Aurora would want to spend time with her father and husband, she carried the coffeepot to the living room, where the others lingered.
“Come on, boys,” she said to her grandsons. “I’ll help you get ready for bed.”
This elicited the usual whines and groans.
Elise had expected that. “I’ll read you another chapter from The Hobbit.”
The whines dwindled somewhat.
“Let me read to them, Elise,” Maverick offered.
Elise was perfectly happy to let him assume the task but felt she should warn him. Once she started reading, it was difficult to stop. The boys wanted to hear more and more. They always bombarded her with “Another chapter, Grandma,” or “Please, just to the end of the page.” They begged and pleaded, and she could never say no. It was sometimes a full hour before she turned off the lights. Still, she took satisfaction in knowing that her grandsons had learned to associate reading with pleasure and hoped that books would remain as important to them as they’d always been to her.
“Elise?” Maverick asked again.
“By all means.” She left the small party and hurried to her room. With one ear on the television and the other focused on the room across the hall, she waited for the sure-to-follow battle, grinning wickedly to herself. Maverick was learning a valuable lesson about being a grandparent.
When she didn’t hear any squabbling, she lowered the volume on her television.
Nothing.
Frowning, she rose and opened the door a crack. She heard Maverick’s rich baritone voice as he read animatedly and with emotion. He was good; she’d give him that. There wasn’t a sound from the youngsters. No doubt they were enthralled by the reading as much as the story.
In spite of what Aurora thought, Elise wanted her daughter to have a good relationship with her father. True, her feelings on the subject were mixed. Although Maverick had promptly paid child support and always kept in touch, he’d made no effort to be a constant part of their daughter’s life. She didn’t understand why he’d decided it was so important to make contact now.
Elise returned to her rocking chair and twenty minutes later she checked again, her ear at the door. When someone knocked, she nearly leaped out of her skin. With one hand over her startled heart, she opened the door to discover Maverick standing in the hallway.
She gasped. “The boys?” she managed to utter, expecting him to ask her advice on how to coax them to sleep.
“Out like the proverbial light,” he said with a shrug.
Impossible! Luke and John didn’t go down without a fight. It was part of their nightly ritual. She realized she was frowning again.
Maverick’s mouth twitched with a smile. “I read them one chapter and John wanted a second.”
She nodded. That was their usual pattern.
“The kid’s got a real dramatic streak,” he said.
Elise forced back a smile.
“He said ‘Grandpa, I beg of you, I beg of you.’”
“Did you give in?”
“Yes—but I made them promise they’d go right down, and they did.”
“Count your blessings.”
For a moment she was lost in him. Then, with a jolt of dismay, she recognized what she was doing. Resolutely, she lifted her chin and looked him square in the eyes. “Was there something you wanted?”
He hesitated, and she could see he was stifling a grin. He’d always been able to see straight through her. “Just to tell you good-night and that I enjoyed being with you again.”
Elise wanted to groan. How was it that a man she’d been divorced from for more than thirty-seven years still had power over her? She loathed her own weakness, loathed her inability to forget how much she’d loved him. “Th-ank you,” she managed, stumbling over the words.
To her astonishment, Maverick pressed his hand to her cheek, his touch soft. His blue eyes brightened with intensity. Elise’s knees felt as if they were about to buckle and her mouth fell open.
“You’ve always been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Her heart hammering inside her chest, Elise stepped back, breaking the contact. Otherwise she didn’t know what she might have done …
“Good night,” she whispered and while she had the strength, she closed the door. Old feelings, it seemed, died hard. She reminded herself that she couldn’t relax her vigilance with this gambler she’d once married. Not for a minute. Not for even a second.
12
CHAPTER
BETHANNE HAMLIN
Bethanne’s meeting with Grant had been a week ago, and she was still so angry that she hadn’t slept an entire night since. The selfish bastard wasn’t willing to spend three hundred dollars on his son. Bethanne knew the reason. Grant didn’t have the courage to say it, but she knew.
This was payback. When Grant moved out of the house and in with Tiffany, their then-sixteen-year-old son had confronted his father and told him exactly what he thought of Grant’s behavior. Grant hadn’t taken kindly to Andrew’s honesty, and their relationship had been strained ever since.
“You okay, Mom?” Annie asked, entering the kitchen.
“Fine,” she snapped, then smiled sheepishly.