Debbie Macomber

Blossom Street (Books 1-10)


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he set it aside as if it were a matter of only the slightest interest. She knew otherwise.

      “They had a boy,” she said, fighting to keep the emotion out of her voice.

      “So I see.”

      It should’ve been them, she wanted to scream. They should be the couple mailing out birth announcements. They were good people. They had a strong marriage and they’d be wonderful parents….

      The infertility was a constant stress on their marriage. Doug had dealt with as much of the indignity as she had. The semen collection in a bathroom off Dr. Ford’s waiting room, the post-coital examinations—all of this was dreadful for him.

      People assured her that one day they’d laugh about it. Carol didn’t think that was possible.

      “I’m almost half done with the second baby blanket. I have another class tomorrow afternoon.”

      Her husband nodded and grabbed the newspaper, heading for his favorite chair in the living room.

      Carol wanted to shout at him to talk to her. Instead she bit her tongue and began preparing dinner, a meal she had no appetite for.

      16

      CHAPTER

       ALIX TOWNSEND

      Sitting at a window table in Starbucks, Alix concentrated on moving the stitches from one needle to the other and completing the row. No one else in class seemed to have a problem with this basic knitting concept. Carol was already working on her second blanket. Jacqueline was having a few difficulties, but not nearly as many as Alix. No matter how hard she concentrated, Alix would start out with a hundred and seventy-one stitches and by the time she finished the row, there’d be a hundred and eighty or more. Or less, depending on what she’d done wrong.

      Lydia reassured her on a regular basis that this was a common problem and explained with limitless patience that Alix wasn’t completing the stitch properly. Well, duh! Then she’d show her again. And Alix would make the same stupid mistake. She didn’t care; she wasn’t giving up until she learned to knit, even if it killed her. She already had thirty bucks invested in this project!

      At the end of the row Alix paused, sipped her frappuccino, a rare treat, and counted the stitches. Damn! A hundred and eighty-three! She’d done it again and added stitches where she shouldn’t. “Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered, which was a tame version of what she was thinking. Apparently being around Jacqueline was rubbing off on her. She barely used the F-word anymore.

      Shoving the knitting onto her lap, Alix closed her eyes, trying to ignore the frustration. This class was supposed to help her with anger management? That was a joke if she’d ever heard one.

      Even more irritating, Laurel was at the apartment with John and had asked Alix to stay away for a couple of hours. She didn’t know what was going on with those two, but Alix didn’t think it could possibly be good. Things had gotten pretty intense between them recently. John had been making regular appearances at the video store, and Alix hated the way Laurel gushed all over the sleaze. As far as she was concerned, John was bad news.

      Once her nerves were calm, Alix carefully unraveled the row, taking out one stitch at a time, which took more effort than it did to complete the frigging row in the first place. Two stitches from the end of the row, she lost her grip on the needle and dropped a stitch. A muttered curse escaped before she could stop herself.

      Good thing Jacqueline wasn’t there to hear it. She was offended each and every time the knitting got the better of Alix, which unfortunately was often. Still, she was improving.

      Thus far, Alix had avoided a confrontation with the other woman, but she could feel one brewing. At best Jacqueline tolerated Alix, and Alix felt the same way about her.

      Jacqueline had a twisted view of the world, in Alix’s opinion. The only things that seemed important to her were pretense and prestige. At each class, she sat and chatted away, putting on airs as if anyone really cared who she saw at social events and club meetings. Most of the time, Alix didn’t know who she was talking about, anyway. Jacqueline spent most of the lesson name-dropping or discussing some ritzy party she’d attended. Well, la-di-da!

      Biting down on her lower lip, Alix managed to pick up the dropped stitch and then just before she could slip it onto the needle, she lost it and the whole thing unraveled another two rows.

      She muttered an even more furious curse under her breath and was tempted to ditch the entire project. If she had any sense she’d throw it in the garbage, needles and all, and slam out the door.

      Alix felt someone’s presence and glanced up to find Jordan Turner standing next to her table. Her mouth went dry and her mind went blank. He was the last person she’d expected to see.

      “Looks like you’re having a bit of trouble.” He pulled out the chair beside her, turned it around and sat down facing her.

      All Alix could do was stare at him with her mouth hanging open. She hadn’t seen him in a couple of weeks. After suggesting they have coffee sometime, he’d vanished. Alix had been bummed out ever since. It was the story of her life; the minute she showed interest in a guy he either ended up in jail or skipped town.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked, making sure he knew she wasn’t pleased to see him.

      “Actually, I came in looking for you.” He folded his arms over the top of the chair and leaned toward her.

      “Sure you did.” That was the type of line John fed Laurel. Alix wasn’t going to fall for it.

      “It’s the truth. You can talk to Danny. I went into the store and asked him if he knew where I could find you.” Danny worked part-time during the day shift and was reliable. If she asked him about it, he’d be square with her.

      Ignoring Jordan, she caught the dropped stitch and finished the row before she raised her eyes. “Why were you looking for me?”

      “I thought I’d buy you a cup of coffee. Are you always this difficult?”

      She fixed her gaze on him and refused to blink. “Not really.”

      “So this I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude is for my benefit?”

      She smiled despite her mood. “You could say that.”

      Her lack of welcome apparently didn’t bother him. “Any particular reason?”

      Alix picked up her knitting again. It sounded childish and petty to say she was disappointed because he’d led her to believe he’d be by to take her to coffee. Then … nothing. Rather than tell him all that, she started knitting again, paying close attention to her stitches, concentrating as she completed the action of slipping it onto the next needle. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” she said casually.

      “Are you implying you missed me? I thought a lot about you while I was away, you know.”

      She shrugged, looked up and felt a smile lift one side of her mouth. “I might have.”

      He liked hearing that; Alix could tell by the way he shifted in his chair and leaned closer. He watched her for a moment and then asked, “What are you knitting?”

      “A baby blanket for the Linus Project.”

      Jordan nodded. “I’ve heard of that. There was a notice in the church bulletin about it a couple of months ago.”

      Damn, he went to church, too? She really knew how to pick ‘em. “Don’t think I’m doing this wonderful deed out of the kindness of my heart,” she said gruffly. “I’m not putting this much effort into a baby blanket out of civic duty.”

      “Then why knit it for the Linus Project?”

      She might as well admit the truth, and looked up, wanting to gauge his reaction. “It’s a way to serve the community hours the court assigned me.” If that didn’t scare him off, then nothing would. She believed in being