Back on Blossom Street (15 page)

Alix Townsend

W
ith Jacqueline and Colette’s encouragement, Alix joined Go Figure, an exercise gym for women, which had recently opened on Blossom Street.

Exercise, Alix heard from a variety of sources, was a good tension reliever. As the wedding date grew closer, Alix was in desperate need of something to calm her increasingly frazzled nerves. Knitting just wasn’t doing it anymore, not when this farce of a wedding got more ridiculous with each passing day.

As an added inducement, Colette had signed up with her. Go Figure wasn’t like any gym Alix had ever seen. It had equipment but no mirrors, except in the changing stalls, and no men.

The exercise program was predesigned and set to music. You went around the circle of exercise equipment, spending forty-five seconds on each machine, then you spent another forty-five seconds dancing or running in place on a small platform. After that, it was on to the next piece of equipment, and so on. The goal was to do thirty
minutes of exercise, which meant completing the circle twice. Forty-five seconds? Anyone could manage that.

When Colette suggested they try this out, Alix had scoffed. She didn’t want to brag, but she was in good shape. She hoisted twenty-five-pound bags of flour nearly every day. Mixing all that bread dough and lifting it onto a floured board wasn’t for weaklings. Still, the first time she completed the cycle at Go Figure she discovered muscles she didn’t know she had.

After their initial week, during which they were allowed to visit as often as they wanted for free, Colette and Alix had decided to sign up. The gym recommended three to four sessions in a seven-day period. Having an exercise partner was great encouragement. Alix felt the workout had reduced her stress and Colette appeared to be enjoying the benefits, as well.

One drawback was that they couldn’t really chat. Not with the music blaring and the beat urging them on. But Alix and Colette usually found a few minutes before or after their sessions to talk.

“Did he call?” Alix asked when they’d finished the latest round of exercise. She didn’t have to explain who
he
was.

“No,” Colette muttered. Her face was red from exertion. She draped a small towel around her neck as she moved toward the dressing room. Pushing aside the curtain, she glanced at Alix. “I already told you he wouldn’t. That’s the way we both want it.”

When Colette had first mentioned Christian, Alix had serious doubts about him. Who wouldn’t? He seemed to be virtually blackmailing her into that dinner date. Something was going on between those two, something Colette hadn’t told her. Based on what she’d said earlier, there’d obviously been an incident, maybe a disturbing one. Alix wouldn’t pressure her, though.

After her dinner date with Christian Dempsey, Colette had told her a bit more. From the way she talked, Alix could only assume that Colette had fallen in love with him. But if that was the case, she didn’t understand why Colette chose to avoid him.

“Do you feel like walking down to Pike Place Market with me?” Colette asked as Alix pulled on her jeans.

“Sure.” Alix’s Saturday was mostly free. Her future mother-in-law wanted to meet with her later in the day to go over the menu for the rehearsal dinner. Alix felt her stomach knot at the prospect of dealing with one more wedding detail.

Jordan’s mother meant well, and Alix tried hard not to say or do anything that would have a negative effect on their relationship. She did her best not to feel resentful.
It’s just one day
had become a mantra that she repeated incessantly. The problem was that Alix wasn’t willing to surrender
everything.
So far the only battle she’d really won had been over her wedding dress. Every other decision had gone to Jacqueline and Susan, and most of the time Alix’s wishes were ignored.

In her ongoing effort to keep the peace, Alix felt she’d swallowed her pride far too often. Worse, Susan and Jacqueline hardly seemed aware of her mounting frustration. So any excuse to delay the meeting with Susan was a welcome reprieve.

The morning had brightened, which improved Alix’s mood. But although the sun was out now, that didn’t guarantee it would stay out. Above all, April weather was unpredictable and today could end with a storm.

As they walked, Alix saw that Colette seemed more subdued than usual. She guessed that her friend was mulling over their earlier conversation.

“Are you seeing Steve anytime soon?” Alix asked,
leading indirectly to the subject of Christian Dempsey. Colette had mentioned the Seattle policeman last week and for some reason, seemed reluctant to accept his invitation. She’d talked it over with Alix. Although not generally a fan of cops, Alix couldn’t see any harm in it and had urged her to go. The evening had turned out to be a success; according to Colette, Steve had been both attentive and charming. Alix wasn’t fooled, though. Colette was still hung up on her old boss, regardless of how she tried to convince Alix otherwise.

“I told Steve I’d go to the movies with him this afternoon,” she said without enthusiasm. “We’ll probably have dinner afterward.”

“So that relationship’s going well?” In contrast to the one with Christian Dempsey.

“Yes, if it’s any of your business.” Colette grinned. “Steve’s a lot of fun.”

Alix studied her friend. “Then why aren’t you jumping for joy? No, don’t tell me—let me guess.”

“Would you cut it out.” Colette rolled her eyes.

“Why are you dating this guy?” Alix asked abruptly. “You like Christian.”

Colette shrugged her shoulders helplessly as they waited at a red light.

“Colette, you have to do what will make you happy.” Alix nudged her as the light changed and they crossed the street, heading to the Hill Climb that connected the market to the Seattle waterfront.

“It would never work with Christian and me.” Colette held up one hand. “Before you ask, let me say I can’t tell you any more than that.”

“He’s not married, is he?”

“No,” Colette muttered as they continued walking.

“Was he abusive?”

“Of course not!”

“You should call him, you know.” Alix couldn’t see what was standing in their way.

“Oh, Alix, it’s much too complicated to explain. I wish things were different, but they aren’t.”

Colette picked up her speed and Alix had to work to keep pace with her. “Trust me, you can’t possibly say anything that’s going to shock me.”

Colette’s steps slowed then, and she looked at Alix with questioning eyes. “What if I told you—” She didn’t finish.

“Told me what?”

“That I drank too much and spent nearly twenty-four hours in bed with him,” she blurted out.

Alix waited, knowing there had to be more to this story.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Colette demanded, sounding angry now.

“If you’re looking for someone to judge you, it won’t be me,” Alix returned promptly. “If you want to talk about what happened, fine, but if you expect me to beat you up over it, you’ve come to the wrong person.”

Colette thanked her with a solemn nod. “It was the night of the company Christmas party.” Misery and guilt suffused her face. “We’d both had too much to drink.”

Alix gently placed her hand on Colette’s elbow. “You don’t have to tell me any of this.”

“I want to,” Colette said, but she avoided meeting Alix’s eyes. “You’ll probably understand better than anyone else. Until then, I didn’t realize how much I’d come to love Christian. He was so wonderful to me after Derek died, so compassionate and generous. And working so closely together, well…I suppose it was only natural that I’d fall for him. I hate to admit it. Falling for the boss is such a cliché.”

“Does he share your feelings?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s dating someone else.”

“How do you know?”

“He ordered flowers for her at the shop. Roses—every week for a year.”

“Oh.”

A short silence ensued.

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Alix told her. “I certainly made my share. Jordan knows.” It practically killed her to tell him, but she had to do it. Laying out the sordid details of her past had been the most humiliating experience of Alix’s life. She felt deep shame, remorse, self-reproach and about ten other emotions too painful to name.

“You told him…
everything
about your past?” Colette asked. Immediately she seemed to regret posing the question. “You don’t have to answer that if you’d rather not.”

“I don’t mind answering. And yeah, I did tell him the whole story.” Alix lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “But I don’t make a habit of revisiting that time in my life. I’m an entirely different person now.”

“Of course you are.”

“Until Jordan, I didn’t know what to do with all the ugly baggage from my past. It dragged me down. Every time something good happened, like when Jacqueline and Reese invited me to live in their guesthouse, I kept thinking I didn’t deserve it.”

“But Alix…”

“Yes, I know. Jordan was great.” She paused, running one hand through her short, spiky hair. “He told me something I’ll never forget.”

Colette was staring at her intently. “What was that?”

“He said that sometimes the hardest part of forgiveness is forgiving ourselves.”

Colette nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not the kind of
woman who does one-night stands. Or at least, that’s what I used to think. I always had contempt for women who did.”

“I never thought I’d sink as low as I did, either,” Alix said and swallowed the bile that rose in the back of her throat. The ugliness of the things she’d done had tainted her view of life until she’d made her peace with God—and with herself. “All I can say is I’m not going back there again.”

“You won’t,” Colette said with utter confidence. “Like you said earlier, you aren’t the same person you were then.”

“The point I’m trying to make,” Alix said, eager to turn the mirror away from herself, “is that you’re doing the same thing I was. The person you can’t forgive is you.”

Colette agreed with a quick smile. “It isn’t easy, is it?”

“Tell me about it.” This had been the most difficult aspect of her new life, and Alix wasn’t sure how to explain it to her friend. “These negative reactions? You know, when you expect the worst ’cause it’s all you deserve?” When Colette nodded, she said, “I call it stinking thinking.”

Colette frowned. “You mean when you start rehashing the past?”

“Yeah.” Alix closed her eyes. “But it’s more than that. Let me give you an example. Once, Tammie Lee, Jacqueline’s daughter-in-law, told me how pretty I looked in red. At the time I had on a black shirt with jeans.”

“So? She gave you a compliment.”

“She
intended
it as a compliment,” Alix explained, “only I didn’t hear it as one. Instead I convinced myself that Tammie Lee had purposely insulted me.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it that way!”

“She didn’t,” Alix concurred. “I don’t know if this’ll make sense to you, but it all goes back to those old messages I’d gotten as a child.”

“I think I understand,” Colette said slowly.

“Tammie Lee made a casual comment and what she intended as a compliment I turned into an insult. That’s because those messages told me I’d never been pretty so I couldn’t be beautiful, no matter what color I wore. Not only that, I assumed she was saying I
wasn’t
pretty the way I was.” She took a deep breath. “My mother used to call me horrible names. For years I heard her voice in my head—sometimes I still do, but now I know how to drown it out. Whenever I remembered her saying things like ‘You ugly little bitch’ I’d sink into this dark pit of depression.”

“Oh, Alix…”

“That’s one of the effects of not being able to forgive yourself—or to cut yourself loose from those hateful insults and accusations. No matter what wonderful things people say, you don’t believe them.”

Colette seemed to understand.

“Why should anyone love me?” Alix asked rhetorically. “If I don’t care about myself, then how can Jordan or anyone else?”

“Yes, but… In my case, it’s best to leave matters between Christian and me as they are,” Colette said, her voice low. “There’s more I can’t explain—stuff that’s not directly related to Christian and me. I care about him, but I can’t go down the path he’s chosen. I…want to help him, but I can’t. I have to simply walk away.”

“Can you?” Alix pressed. “Can you really do that?”

A long time passed before Colette answered. “I really don’t have any choice and yet…”

“Yet…” Alix pushed gently, knowing there was something else her friend wasn’t telling her.

“I don’t think we can ever get past what happened that…night.”

“Everything seems to go back to that,” Alix murmured.

Colette stopped walking for a moment, looking out
toward the Sound. “We didn’t use birth control,” she whispered and Alix watched as she swallowed hard.

“You’re pregnant?”

Colette nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. “I haven’t told anyone… I don’t think I’ve really taken it in myself. Why is life like this?” she groaned. “Derek and I couldn’t get pregnant and then…then one night with Christian and—” She left the rest unsaid. “I haven’t figured out what I’m going to do. I’ll keep the baby, of course. Christian doesn’t know… Every time I try to tell him, I realize I can’t. For now, that’s for the best.”

“But, Colette, he has a right to know!”

“I’ll tell him,” she promised and wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “Just not yet.”

“The prayer shawl?” Instinctively Alix knew it wasn’t a shawl Colette had been knitting, but a baby blanket.

“It’s for the baby,” Colette said. “Christian’s and mine.”

Colette Blake

C
olette prayed she’d done the right thing in telling Alix about the pregnancy. She hadn’t intended to, but it had seemed so natural…. Every day it became more difficult to conceal the news. Her instinct was still to keep the baby a secret for fear Christian would somehow discover her condition before she was ready to let him know.

Embarrassment had kept her from revealing the pregnancy to her family and her in-laws. What could she possibly say to Derek’s parents? Thank goodness they lived in Chicago! At least they wouldn’t find out until she chose to tell them—which she would. Eventually. They were wonderful people who loved their son and loved her. Colette was their last link to Derek and they kept in touch with her. Sooner or later she’d need to tell them the truth.

Then, of course, there was Christian. She expelled him forcefully from her mind. He’d made his choice and she’d made hers. When the time came, whenever that might be, she’d break the news to him. It seemed wrong to tell others and not the baby’s father; that, however, couldn’t be helped.

Discussing her pregnancy with Alix had given her a
sense of exhilaration and relief. That old saying about confession being good for the soul—she’d certainly found it to be true.

Her high spirits had continued during her afternoon with Steve Grisham. She’d enjoyed their date, yet she felt something was missing in their relationship. In the beginning she’d assumed it had to do with her and the secret she kept. But after Saturday she realized there was a lack of connection between them. She liked Steve and was grateful for his company, which was pleasant and undemanding. And yet…

It surprised her that he didn’t notice anything amiss. At the end of the evening he’d kissed her tenderly and seemed disappointed when she didn’t invite him into her apartment. He’d asked to see her again and they were meeting for dinner on Friday evening.

“That’s lovely,” Susannah said, nodding at the arrangement of roses Christian had ordered for Elizabeth Sasser. As if to prove he meant absolutely nothing to her, she’d worked doubly hard to make the arrangement as attractive as possible. Roses didn’t need much to enhance their beauty, but she’d carefully chosen a gleaming copper tub and interspersed ferns and baby’s breath among the deep-red blooms.

“Would you mind if I delivered this personally?” Colette asked. She couldn’t explain why she felt the need to meet the new woman in Christian’s life. Elizabeth had apparently made quite an impression on him. Christian’s past relationships had never lasted more than a few months, and yet he’d left his credit card number and instructions for a full year of weekly flower deliveries.

Susannah blinked at the unusual request. “We have a service.”

“I’ll do it on my own time.” That would save Susannah the delivery fee.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t,” Susannah returned, not bothering to conceal her surprise. “If you want to…”

“Thank you.” Colette wasn’t so convinced she’d be thankful after she’d made the delivery, though. Elizabeth was probably beautiful beyond description, talented and rich to boot. Colette’s own shortcomings overwhelmed her. All she could think was that she was setting herself up to feel like a pathetic little waif, insecure and ridiculous. And yet her curiosity overrode common sense.

Then she remembered her most recent conversation with Alix. Her friend had talked about the ugly voices that shouted at her and dragged her into despair. Voices that told her she was worthless. She’d referred to it as “stinking thinking.” Colette was hearing voices like that now. They were just as destructive as the voices Alix had mentioned. Everyone heard them at one time or another, Colette decided. She was determined not to listen.

Before she left Susannah’s Garden, Colette refreshed her makeup and ran a comb through her hair. The other woman might be Hollywood beautiful, but Colette wouldn’t allow that to influence her own feelings about her appearance or self-worth. Or so she repeatedly told herself as she sought out the Capitol Hill address.

When she pulled up in front of the huge three-story house—actually, mansion better described the residence—her confidence deflated faster than a balloon in a sticker bush. The lawn and yard were meticulously groomed. The sidewalk leading to the entrance was lined with blooming roses; their scent readily identified them as antique varieties and not hybrids. How like a man to send dozens of roses to a woman who had a yardful!

It took Colette several moments to find the courage to ring the bell. A full minute passed. Then an elderly
woman, dressed in a black uniform with a white apron, opened the massive front door.

“Hello,” Colette said with a friendly smile. “I have a flower delivery for Ms. Elizabeth Sasser.” In all her life, she’d never known anyone rich enough to employ a maid.

The other woman unlatched the screen door and pushed it open, accepting the arrangement with both hands. “They’re especially beautiful this week.”

“Is Ms. Sasser at home?” Colette asked, while she still had the courage.

“Doris? Who’s at the door?” The voice was that of an older woman.

“Flowers, Miss Elizabeth.”

“Again?”
A woman in her seventies or early eighties made her way into the entry, walking slowly but without a cane. Her silver hair was piled on top of her head and she wore a light pink pantsuit with a diamond brooch pinned at the collar.

“
You’re
Elizabeth Sasser?” Colette blurted out.

The older woman’s eyes narrowed as she studied Colette. “Doris, invite the young woman in for tea.”

“Yes, Miss Elizabeth.”

“We’ll take our tea in the library,” she said, before turning away from the door and disappearing.

The other woman nodded. She set the copper tub of roses on a round marble-topped table that stood in the entryway.

Colette stepped inside the house and immediately noticed the scents of lemon and polished wood—and roses. The floors gleamed and a wide, sweeping stairway curved toward the second floor. There were two doors off the entry, one to the left and the other to the right. She could see that the one on the right led to a formal dining room with tables and chairs and a huge sideboard.

The door on the left apparently led to the library. Built
in mahogany bookcases stretched from floor to ceiling on three sides. A marble fireplace dominated the fourth wall. Two leather chairs, creased with age, sat facing the fireplace. The room enchanted Colette, who suppressed the urge to run over and examine the leather-bound volumes that filled the bookcases.

“You may have a seat.” Elizabeth Sasser gestured toward the leather chair next to her own.

“Thank you.” Colette self-consciously sat and placed her hands in her lap. She had no idea what to say. But since Ms. Sasser had invited her, Colette decided to let the older woman ask the questions.

“We’ll have tea presently.”

“That sounds very nice.” Colette glanced down at her hands, which were clenched in her lap like those of a schoolgirl called to task. With a determined effort she forced herself to relax.

“Christian sent you?” the woman asked.

“No… I mean, yes, in a manner of speaking. He ordered the flowers and I delivered them.”

“I see.”

They were briefly interrupted by Doris, who carried in a tray with a china teapot, creamer and sugar, two ornate teacups with saucers and a plate of delicate French cookies. “Madelines,” Elizabeth pointed out when Doris had left. “I’m sure you recall your Proust.”

“Remembrance of Things Past,”
Colette said dutifully. She didn’t add that she’d always
meant
to read the books.

Elizabeth smiled faintly. “I’ll ask you to pour. My hands aren’t as steady as they once were.”

“I’d be happy to,” Colette said. She went over to the library table and carefully followed the other woman’s instructions about sugar and lemon. After both cups were ready, she set a cookie on each saucer and brought the first
to Elizabeth. She took the second for herself and reclaimed her seat.

“You know my great-nephew?” Elizabeth quickly returned to her questions.

“Yes.” Colette didn’t elaborate, but she was pleased that the mystery of the older woman’s relationship to Christian had been revealed.

Elizabeth raised the cup to her lips and sipped her tea. “It’s my understanding that in previous weeks the flowers have been brought to the house by a delivery service.”

“That’s correct.”

“Was the service unable to make the delivery this week?”

The moment of truth had arrived. Colette could easily lie and save face. Admitting that she’d been curious about the woman in Christian’s life would tell Elizabeth more than Colette was comfortable sharing. If she lied, she’d be on her way in a matter of minutes and out of this embarrassing situation.

“Actually I asked to deliver the flowers,” Colette murmured, deciding on the truth. “I work for Susannah’s Garden, the flower shop on Blossom Street.”

“Was there any particular reason you felt it necessary to bring them yourself?”

“I…I wanted to meet the woman Christian loved.”

A smile spread across the older woman’s face. “How clever of you. Now that you recognize it’s an old woman, you must be amused—or disappointed? I’m his great-aunt and one of his only surviving relatives.”

Colette wasn’t disappointed at all. If anything she was baffled. As Christian’s former assistant, she was shocked to discover he had family she knew nothing about. “He’s never mentioned you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Elizabeth commented drily. “I’m afraid he prefers to forget he has family.”

Colette frowned.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, the older woman said, “It’s a long story and one better saved for another day.”

“I worked with Christian for five years. I never knew he had family.”

“Five years?” Elizabeth repeated. “And in all that time he never mentioned me. I find that insulting.” She made a soft huffing sound. “There are times I’d like to box that young man’s ears.” She muttered something under her breath Colette couldn’t hear.

“What about his mother?” Colette asked. She didn’t want to appear inquisitive or nosy, but she hungered for information. For the sake of her child it might prove important, even necessary. She’d assumed his mother was dead but now she no longer knew.

“The dear girl died in childbirth when Christian was eight. A terrible loss. One doesn’t hear of that often these days. Still, it happens. Elliott lost both his wife and his infant daughter. And Christian lost more than his mother, I’m afraid. He lost his security.”

Colette’s heart ached for the little boy Christian had been.

“For a year afterward, Elliott buried himself in the bottom of a whiskey bottle, too immersed in his own grief to help Christian deal with his.” Elizabeth set her cup back in the saucer with a sharp clink. “My husband, God rest his soul, brought young Christian to me. Charles and I had never been blessed with a family. Unfortunately, we were of an age at which we didn’t have the foggiest idea what to do with a youngster. We kept him until Elliott had straightened himself out and then sent him home to live with his father.” She paused, shaking her head. “I regret that to this day.”

Colette tried to picture Christian as a hurting, motherless little boy but couldn’t. He seemed too self-possessed,
too confident, too remote. Perhaps his childhood explained the unyielding exterior he presented to the world.

Only three times in all the years she’d known him had Christian revealed a different facet of his personality. The day of Derek’s funeral, the night of the Christmas party and just recently, when they’d gone to dinner.

“Did his father ever remarry?” she asked, wanting to know more details of Christian’s young life.

“Unfortunately, no. When he finished with alcohol, Elliott buried himself in his work. He traded one addiction for another, although arguably a less destructive one. Christian was raised by a series of housekeepers. I sent for him every summer and at Christmas, but as you can imagine, neither Charles nor I knew how to entertain a young boy.”

Colette smiled, picturing Christian sitting at that huge dining table for a formal meal.

“I did teach him to play bridge, and I’ll admit he’s quite good.”

Colette had never heard that he played any form of cards.

“Unfortunately, his relationship with Elliott is strained. My nephew decided long ago that Christian would one day take over his investment firm. Christian’s never shown the slightest interest in stocks and bonds. From the time he was a child, he loved to travel. Christian spent hours in this very library, studying maps and reading about faraway lands. He started the import business with an inheritance he collected from his mother’s side of the family.”

“He’s very successful at the business,” Colette said, and wondered anew why he’d put so much at risk.

“And an utter failure at personal relationships, much like his father. Elliott blamed the world for his loss and instead of getting on with life, he held his bitterness inside. I’m afraid Christian is more like his father than
he realizes. He, too, keeps everything hidden. He refuses to get close to anyone.” Elizabeth shook her head sadly.

“He…he seems to have plenty of women friends.”

“Pieces of fluff,” Elizabeth said scornfully. “They never last long, do they? He woos them and then grows bored with them. Am I correct?”

Colette felt as if she was telling tales out of school. “Uh, that was his pattern when I worked with him. But I haven’t been with Dempsey Imports for the last four months, so I can’t say about more recent…relationships.”

The other woman put down her tea cup and studied Colette. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Colette felt the blood rush to her face. “I wouldn’t say that….”

The old woman gestured with one elegant hand. “Don’t bother to deny it. You wouldn’t have come here otherwise. Stand up,” she demanded. “I want to get a good look at you.”

Haltingly, Colette complied, thankful for her loose-fitting clothes.

“Straighten your shoulders,” Elizabeth snapped. “What’s the problem with young people these days? It’s a wonder you don’t all come down with back problems.”