Blossom Street Bundle. Debbie Macomber
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had a baby,” Anne Marie said without flinching.
“A son. I named him Reed.”
“Is the baby’s father—is this Robert’s child?” The question was out at last. Much as she feared the answer, she needed to know.
“Robert’s?” Rebecca repeated, looking stunned. “No!”
“No?”
“Of course Reed isn’t Robert’s! Oh, my goodness, that’s what this lunch is all about? You thought I’d had Robert’s child. No, no, no. Reed’s father is my ex-boyfriend. Denny cheated on me and I found out the same week I discovered I was pregnant. I should’ve explained. The only reason I slept with Robert was because I was trying to hurt Denny. It was just so twisted and stupid.”
“Denny knew about Robert?”
“Yes.”
“And he knows about Reed?”
“Of course, and so far he’s been a good father.”
“You’re getting married?”
“No way! I’m not an idiot. If Denny couldn’t keep his pants zipped before the wedding, he won’t afterward. I’m seeing someone else now.”
“Oh.” Anne Marie had to resist hugging the other woman and thanking her for not giving birth to Robert’s son.
“You must’ve heard about Robert and me and then learned I was pregnant and thought—”
Anne Marie nodded. “That’s exactly what happened.”
“But if that was the case, don’t you think I would’ve contacted his attorney? I mean, Reed would’ve been a legal heir once paternity was established.”
“I wondered why you hadn’t.”
“Well, it was for a very good reason. Reed isn’t Robert’s son.”
Anne Marie’s heart soared with relief and, even more than that, with joy.
“I didn’t know Robert all that well,” Rebecca told her. “But I know one thing about him—he loved you.”
“He loved me,” Anne Marie said.
“He did,” Rebecca concurred with a smile.
That was all that mattered. Robert wasn’t going to win any Husband of the Year award. The pain of his betrayal would always be with her but he’d loved her. It was what she’d known all along, despite the doubts and the mistakes they’d both made.
Yes, that was all that mattered.
The past wouldn’t change.
But the way Anne Marie saw the future would.
Chapter 33
Lillie estimated that it’d been three weeks since Hector had received her letter. She hadn’t heard from him, and after all this time, she didn’t expect to. The last thing she wanted was to cause problems between Hector and his children.
After mailing the letter, Lillie had spent a week by the ocean and found solace. The ocean had always been her escape. Whenever she learned about another of David’s affairs, she’d booked a visit to her favorite ocean resort. She’d gone there three or four times every year, often enough that she had her own room, and the staff knew her by her first name. Although it’d been well over three years since her last visit, she’d been greeted warmly. Her regular room was ready and waiting for her.
She’d regained her emotional equilibrium walking along the beach. Every morning, she’d strolled in the sand, letting the waves lap against her bare feet, thinking, meditating, praying. After a while, the ache would gradually diminish as she was reminded that her worth as a woman, as a human being, didn’t depend on David. His actions couldn’t demean her. Her husband, sad though it was to admit, was a man without honor.
When she returned from the ocean, Lillie carefully sorted through the mail, searching for a response from Hector. There was none. She’d hoped he’d answer her note, although she hadn’t really expected it.
On Monday, the twelfth of May, Lillie spent the morning working in her garden. She loved her Martha Washington geraniums, and with the rhododendrons in full bloom and the azaleas as well, her garden had never looked better. Her neighbors hired landscape specialists and Lillie had a company that performed the more demanding physical tasks, such as mowing. The flower beds, however, were her domain. Her personal joy.
At noon, she took a break and went inside for a glass of iced tea. The mail had been delivered and, as she drank, she leafed through the few advertisements and set the bills aside. A hand-addressed envelope caught her attention.
She didn’t immediately recognize the writing. Curious, she opened it to discover an invitation to a retirement party for Hector Silva.
Lillie read it twice.
The party was planned for that very evening and when she studied the handwriting a second time, she realized the envelope had been personally addressed to her by Hector. She recognized his penmanship from the work order on her car.
All the necessary details were there. Date. Time. Place.
Lillie inhaled sharply. The party would be held at the dealership at seven that night, and she had every intention of attending.
By six forty-five, Lillie was dressed in a semiformal knee-length linen dress with a cropped jacket. Barbie phoned just as she was about to walk out the door and Lillie explained where she was going.
“I was sure Hector would be in touch,” her daughter said in that gleeful way of hers when she knew she was right. “Have a wonderful evening, Mom.”
“I will,” Lillie promised.
They spoke for a few more minutes and then it was time for Lillie to go. Although she was nervous, she had a strong intuition that this was going to be one of the most magical evenings of her life. Happiness spread through her and she felt so light it was as though she could float.
When Lillie arrived at the dealership, the retirement party was in full swing. The showroom floor was decorated with banners and balloons, the counters spread with bottles of champagne and trays of lovely hors d’oeuvres. Surrounded by his children, customers and coworkers, Hector didn’t see her right away. As soon as he did, his eyes flew wide open and he said something to his daughter, whom Lillie recognized from the photographs she’d seen in his home. Hector broke away from the group and hurried toward her.
“Lillie.” He held out both hands.
“Hello, Hector.”
“I’m so pleased you came.” His gaze seemed to devour her, and she couldn’t doubt the sincerity of his words.
Her own eyes were equally hungry for him. “Thank you for the invitation, and congratulations on your retirement.” Words hardly seemed necessary. All she wanted to do was stare at him.
“Thank you.” His hands firmly clasped hers. Then, as if he’d forgotten himself, he asked, “Can I get you some champagne?”
“I’d like that.”
But Hector didn’t need to leave her. Rita, his daughter, brought over a champagne flute and offered it to Lillie.
“I’m Rita,” she said unnecessarily.
“You’re as lovely as your pictures,” Lillie said as she accepted the flute and impulsively hugged his daughter. Rita hugged her back, her expression welcoming.
“This is Andy, my fiancé,” she said, introducing the man at her side. “Dad wasn’t sure you’d come. I told him you would.”
“I don’t think I could’ve stayed away if I’d tried,” Lillie confessed. Hector stood close by as his two sons, Manuel and Luis, walked toward them, their progress hindered by the crowd. Manuel studied