Blossom Street Bundle. Debbie Macomber
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to talk to you.”
Anne Marie would give Lillie a call later on. She hoped the situation with her car had been settled.
“There was a phone call for you, too. A man at one of the distributors. He asked if you’d call him back at your convenience. I wrote down all the information.”
“I’ll take care of that in the morning,” Anne Marie said. She lingered, procrastinating because she hated to ask her employees to fill in for her. “Theresa, I was wondering if you could work next Tuesday afternoon.”
“Next Tuesday?” Looking pensive, Theresa bit her bottom lip. “I think so. Can I get back to you to confirm?”
“Of course. The thing is, I’m a Lunch Buddy for this little girl named Ellen and…well, she’s going to be in a school production and the counselor seemed to think it would help if I could be there.” She didn’t know why she was rattling on about this when it really wasn’t Theresa’s problem.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine but I’ll need to check with Jeff first.”
“Thanks, and if it doesn’t work out, don’t worry. I’ll try Cathy or Steve.”
Anne Marie went upstairs to her apartment. Baxter, who was asleep in his small bed, didn’t so much as stir. Apparently the excursion to the school had tired him out. “Some watchdog you are, Mr. Baxter,” she muttered.
Her plan for the afternoon was to work on her list of wishes. Since her dinner with Melissa, Anne Marie hadn’t really given it much thought.
1. Buy red cowboy boots
2. Learn to knit
3. Volunteer—become a Lunch Buddy
4. Take French lessons
Then, because it seemed so unlikely and yet necessary, she added the first wish, the one she’d crossed out earlier.
5. Find one good thing about life
She took out the binder she’d purchased and assembled the scrap-booking supplies and the few pictures she’d already cut out. Red cowboy boots from a catalog. A hand-knit sweater from a magazine. A photo of the Eiffel Tower. She’d need to get a picture of Ellen and… Suddenly it seemed pointless to go on, in light of what she’d discovered about Robert and her own pitiful life.
Rather than allow herself to sink into further depression, she reached for her phone and called Lillie. They arranged to meet for dinner at a Thai place they both liked.
That evening Lillie arrived at the restaurant before Anne Marie did and had already secured a table. “I’m so glad you phoned,” Lillie said, kissing her cheek. “I’ve got lots to tell you.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
“It’s that list.”
“The Twenty Wishes?” Earlier, just reading her list had depressed her. She’d been convinced she’d never feel like dreaming again, not when she’d obviously been so wrong about her entire life.
“That list’s given me a whole new burst of energy,” Lillie said. “I’ve told my friends about it and now they’re all writing their own lists.”
“Really?”
“Lists are big these days. Who would’ve believed it?” Lillie’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “I’ve been adding to mine nearly every day, thinking about all the things I want to do. Things I haven’t considered in years. It all started when I bought that red convertible.”
“Speaking of which…”
Lillie waved the question aside even before Anne Marie could ask it. “Just a minor glitch and that nice man from the service department is taking care of everything.”
“You mean to say you’re still driving a loaner?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. Everything’s under control and I haven’t been inconvenienced in the least.”
“You shouldn’t be inconvenienced. You bought their car!”
Lillie studied her menu. “I’m starved. How about you?”
Anne Marie needed to think about it, then realized she actually was hungry. “I am, too.”
“Great. The way I feel right now, I’m tempted to order everything on the menu. Let’s begin with the assorted appetizers, and then a green mango salad.…”
“And pad thai. I love their pad thai,” Anne Marie said, entering into the spirit of the evening.
Between the perfectly spiced food and Lillie’s invigorating company, dinner was a welcome reprieve from the low-grade depression that had been hanging over Anne Marie. Back in her apartment a few hours later, she came across the binder and the scrapbooking supplies spread out on the kitchen table.
She sat down again and read over her list. Maybe her wishes weren’t so impossible, after all.
Chapter 8
Lillie Higgins paid extra-close attention to her makeup Friday morning, chastising herself as she did. Anyone who even suspected that she was preening and primping for the service department manager at a car dealership would be aghast.
Lillie had nothing to say in her defense. She just found Hector Silva appealing; he was kind and generous and unfailingly polite. He seemed so natural, while the men who usually set out to charm her came across as self-conscious, trying too hard to impress. Not Hector Silva. His work ethic, his dignity and decency… She couldn’t praise him enough.
They’d exchanged two brief conversations, and after each one Lillie had walked away feeling good. More than good, elated. She liked him—it was that simple—and she enjoyed talking to him. Both times she’d wished the conversations could’ve been longer.
Now that her car was repaired to Hector’s satisfaction, she didn’t have an excuse to chat with him anymore. So she’d decided to make the most of today’s encounter, which would likely be their last.
Lillie arrived at the dealership with the loaner at the precise time Hector had indicated. She wore a pink linen pantsuit with a silk floral scarf tied around her head. She’d struggled with that, not wanting to look like a babushka or some latter-day hippie, and she’d finally managed to arrange it in an attractive style. Desiree, the temperamental French hairdresser she and Jacqueline Donovan shared, had insisted that if Lillie was determined to drive a convertible, she take measures to protect her hair.
When Lillie pulled into the parking space outside the service area, Hector immediately stepped outside as if he’d been standing by the door, waiting for her.
“Good morning, Ms. Higgins,” he said with the slightest bow.
“Good morning, Mr. Silva.”
“Please call me Hector.”
“Only if you’ll call me Lillie. After everything we’ve been through with this car, I believe we’ve become friends, don’t you? And friends call each other by their first names.” Referring to him as a friend might be presumptuous, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.
He grinned, and his dark eyes glinted with pleasure. “I feel the same way.” After the briefest of hesitations, he added, “Lillie.” She loved how he said her name, placing equal emphasis on each syllable. She’d never heard anyone draw it out like that. He made it sound…sensuous. Completely unlike the blunt “Lil” her husband used to call her.
“Your vehicle is ready.” He gestured toward the red convertible parked near the service area.
“Did you ever find out what the problem was?” she asked, although in truth she didn’t really care.
“As far as I can tell, the hydraulic hose had an air bubble in it. I worked on it myself