Blossom Street Bundle. Debbie Macomber
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“I’m fine. How about you?”
“Good. Good. What can I do for you?”
Brandon was a claims adjuster for an insurance company and she was well aware that he didn’t have time to waste on idle chitchat.
“I heard from Melissa this afternoon.”
“Melissa called you?” That was strange enough to instantly get his attention. “What did she want?” he asked curiously.
“To talk to me, or so she says. We’re meeting for dinner. Can you tell me what that’s about?”
“Melissa called you?” Brandon repeated. He seemed completely at a loss. “I couldn’t begin to tell you what she wants.”
Anne Marie sighed. “I can’t figure it out, either. She insists we talk face-to-face.”
“Would you like me to give her a call?” he asked.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll find out soon enough.” Whatever it was didn’t appear to involve Brandon.
“Let me know what’s up, will you?”
“You haven’t heard from her?” Brandon and Melissa had always been fairly close, even though he openly disapproved of his sister’s attitude toward Anne Marie.
“Not in a couple of weeks, which isn’t like her. After Dad died, I heard from her practically every day. Lately, though, she’s been keeping to herself.”
“You haven’t called her?”
“I’ve left her a couple of messages. Apparently she’s been spending all her time with that guy she’s seeing. If I’m reading the situation right, it sounds like she and Michael are serious.”
“Is that good news or bad?” Anne Marie asked.
“I think it’s good. I like Michael and as far as I can tell, he really cares about Melissa.”
“So you’ve met him?”
“Yeah, a couple of times. He came to Dad’s funeral.”
Anne Marie had been too grief-stricken to remember who’d been there; not only that, Michael would’ve been a stranger to her, one among many.
Was Melissa planning to confide in her about this young man? Hard to believe, but Anne Marie’s curiosity was even more pronounced now.
She replaced the phone, staring out the kitchen window onto the alley behind Blossom Street. She’d just have to wait until Friday to learn the reason for Melissa’s phone call.
On Friday, Anne Marie got to the restaurant shortly before the predetermined time of seven. Based on past experience, she expected Melissa to be late; that was usually the case, especially if the event happened to include Anne Marie—like dinner at her and Robert’s house or a holiday get-together. It was yet another way she displayed her complete lack of regard for her stepmother. But when Anne Marie arrived Melissa was already there, pacing outside the restaurant. Anne Marie was shocked, to say the least.
Melissa had suggested a well-known seafood place on the waterfront close to Pike Place Market. Walking fast, it was about twenty minutes from the bookstore, andAnne Marie had worn an extra sweater against the cold wind coming off Elliot Bay.
Her stepdaughter abruptly stopped her pacing the moment she saw her. Because of their long, unfortunate history, Anne Marie didn’t—couldn’t—lower her guard. She’d been sucker punched too many times by some slyly cruel comment or unmistakable slight.
“Hello, Melissa,” she said, maintaining a cool facade. “You’re looking well.” Her stepdaughter was an attractive woman, tall and willowy in stature. Her hair was dark and fell in soft natural curls about her face. She was wearing black jeans and an expensive three-quarter-length khaki raincoat. Even as a girl, she’d been almost obsessed with fashion and appearances, an obsession her father had indulged.
“You look good, too,” Melissa said carelessly. “Are you dating anyone?”
Anne Marie bit her tongue. “No. If that’s what you want to talk about, I think I should leave now.”
“Calm down, would you?” Melissa snapped. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you dating.”
The derisive, scornful attitude was there in full display, and Anne Marie wondered why she still tried. Her stepdaughter seemed unreachable—by her, anyway—and had been from the day they met.
“I…I shouldn’t have asked,” Melissa murmured in what might have passed for an apology if her voice hadn’t held the same level of hostility. “It isn’t really any of my business.”
“Shall we go inside?” Anne Marie said. The wind was growing stronger, and the rain seemed about to start any minute.
“Yes,” Melissa agreed, moving quickly to the door.
Melissa had made a reservation, and they were soon seated at a table by the window. The water was as dark as the sky but Anne Marie gazed out at the lights, dimly visible in the fog. Then she turned to her menu. She and Melissa both seemed determined to make a thorough study of it. With her nerves on edge, Anne Marie didn’t have much of an appetite. She decided on clam chowder in a bread bowl and when the server came, she was surprised to hear Melissa order the same thing.
“I’d like some coffee, too,” Melissa told him.
“I would, as well.”
Once the waiter had left, Melissa nervously reached for her linen napkin, which she spread carefully across her lap. Then she rearranged her silverware.
“Are you ready to tell me what this is about?” Anne Marie asked. Any exchange of pleasantries was pointless.
There was a pause. “It’s probably unfair to come to you about this,” Melissa finally said, “but I didn’t know what else to do.”
Anne Marie closed her eyes briefly. “Rather than hint at what you want to say, why don’t you just say it?”
Melissa placed her hands in her lap and lowered her head. “I…I haven’t been doing well since Dad died.”
Anne Marie nodded. “I haven’t, either.”
Melissa looked up and bit her lip. “I miss him so much.”
Anne Marie tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat. “Me, too.”
“I thought if I went into his office and talked to his friends I’d feel better.”
The waiter brought their coffee, and Anne Marie welcomed the distraction. She could feel tears welling up and she didn’t want the embarrassment of crying in front of Melissa.
When they were alone again, Melissa dumped sugar in her coffee. “Like I said, I decided to stop by the office,” she muttered, scooping up three tiny half-and-half cups and peeling away the tops. “Dad was always so proud of his role in the business.”
Robert had every right to be proud. He’d worked for the data storage business almost from its inception and much of the company’s success could be attributed to his efforts. He enjoyed his job, although the demands on his time had increased constantly. For three consecutive years, Robert had planned to take Anne Marie to Paris for their wedding anniversary. Each year he’d been forced to cancel their vacation plans because of business.
“Everyone must’ve been happy to see you,” Anne Marie commented politely.
Melissa shrugged. “Even in this short amount of time, there’ve been a lot of changes.”
That was understandable. Robert had died almost ten months ago, and life had a way of creeping forward, no matter what the circumstances.
“Do you remember Rebecca Gilroy?” Melissa asked.
“Of course.” The young woman had been