Back on Blossom Street (29 page)

Alix Townsend

T
he morning of June second, Alix woke up and remembered that this was her wedding day. She felt a sense of profound joy—but it was a joy mingled with sheer terror. Standing up in front of all those people, even though there’d be far fewer than the number originally invited, terrified her. But despite her fears, she wanted to do this, more than anything in her life. She loved Jordan and knew he loved her, but she wasn’t unrealistic about marriage; love didn’t mean there wouldn’t be conflicts and problems. The difference was that if you loved each other, the way she and Jordan did, you could resolve those conflicts and find solutions to the problems.

Alix was too nervous and excited to have breakfast. At nine, Tammie Lee drove her to Grandma Turner’s house, which was already stirring with activity.

Reese and Jacqueline had canceled the orchestra they’d hired for the country club reception; with Alix and Jordan’s permission, they’d arranged for a five-piece band instead. The sound system people were getting everything set up.

The tent was raised, and the folding chairs stood inside
in neat rows. Jacqueline had insisted on white wooden chairs with padded seats at a cost Alix didn’t even want to think about. The caterers had arrived and were preparing the food. The French Café had delivered the wedding cake, a traditional cake Alix had baked and decorated herself. As a surprise for Jacqueline, she’d used a sweetened cream cheese frosting.

Susannah and Colette were there, too, working on the flower arrangements. They were filling large baskets with white roses, yellow daisies and sprigs of fern. Smaller bouquets of the same flowers were attached at the end of every row. The effect was simple, springlike and elegant.

The minute Alix caught sight of Colette, she flew across the grounds. “I can’t believe you’re here,” Alix murmured, throwing both arms around her. The last Alix had heard, Christian still hadn’t been located. Colette had kept a vigil with Christian’s aunt since his disappearance became known, and Alix hadn’t expected her to come to the wedding.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Colette assured her, hugging her back.

“Christian?” Alix whispered.

Colette shook her head. “Nothing new.” She looked tired but seemed to have found some measure of peace.

“I’m so glad you came,” Alix said. “It means a lot to me.”

Colette smiled at her. “Oh, Alix, you’re going to be a beautiful bride.”

“I’m about to be
married.
” Alix giggled with happiness and headed toward the house, where Jacqueline and Reese were waiting for her. Family drifted in and out; someone had brought a large coffee urn and Jordan’s relatives came in to help themselves to cups of coffee. Someone mentioned that Grandma Turner had decided to rest for a while. Alix didn’t want to disturb her.

“The hairdresser’s here,” Jacqueline announced, ushering Alix into the house.

Alix glanced at her warily.

“Don’t worry.” Jacqueline must have read the look in her eyes. “It’s not Desiree.” Early in their friendship, Jacqueline had taken her to an expensive hairstylist named Desiree; this was the famous makeover disaster they still laughed about. “Desiree said I couldn’t pay her enough to work on your hair again.”

Alix grinned. Desiree wouldn’t want to hear what she thought of her, either. “Just as long as I have final approval.” She wasn’t about to go through her wedding looking like one of the boys from that 1970s TV series,
The Brady Bunch.

Jacqueline nodded and led her to the bathroom. In short order her hair was washed and blow-dried, curled and sprayed. Alix stared at her reflection and decided she rather liked this more mature version of herself.

“Is Grandma Turner still resting?” she asked. Any number of people had been in and out of the house all morning.

No one seemed to know. Her bedroom door remained shut. Alix had brought over her wedding dress earlier in the week and Grandma had insisted on hanging it on the back of her door.

Still in her housecoat and slippers, Alix approached the bedroom. Her knock went unanswered. If Grandma Turner was sleeping, it was time to wake her. The photographer would be there soon and Alix wanted Grandma in the pictures.

After knocking a second time, Alix quietly opened the door, to see Jordan’s grandmother sitting in the rocking chair by her bed, her Bible in her lap. The shawl Alix had knit was draped around her shoulders. It looked
as if the old woman had been reading her Bible and fallen asleep.

“Grandma,” Alix whispered, trying not to startle her.

Sarah Turner didn’t respond.

Kneeling in front of her, Alix reached for Sarah’s hand and swallowed hard when she discovered the fingers were stone-cold.

Alix knew that Grandma wasn’t asleep.

She was dead.

She’d died that morning, reading her Bible and wearing her prayer shawl.

Sobs filled Alix’s chest and she laid her face against Grandma’s lap as she struggled for composure. When she could breathe evenly again, she lifted her face, gently touched the old woman’s cheek and rose to her feet.

Alix stepped quietly out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her. The first person she saw was Jacqueline.

“Please find Jordan for me,” she whispered brokenly.

“What’s the matter?” Jacqueline asked.

“Just get Jordan. Please.”

Jacqueline started to tell her it was bad luck for the groom to see his bride before the wedding, but Alix’s expression obviously stopped her. “I saw him a little while ago. I’ll look around.”

She left, returning with him a few minutes later. Jordan frowned when he saw Alix still wearing her housecoat and slippers. He was in his tuxedo. “Is something wrong?”

Alix nodded and took his hand. Together they entered his grandmother’s bedroom. Jordan knew instantly.

“I think she’s been dead a couple of hours,” Alix told him. Her voice faltered, and when she could speak again, she asked in a hoarse whisper, “What should we do?”

Jordan sat on the edge of his grandmother’s bed and lowered his head as the realization hit him. “My grand
mother loved you, Alix. I don’t know why the Lord chose to take her home this morning, but He did. Everyone’s here. It seems to me that this was exactly what Grandma was waiting for—to see us happy and to have all her family around her. We’re getting married today. Grandma would want us to. Her love is here.”

Jordan stood and wrapped his arms around Alix, then briefly buried his face in her shoulder. “I’ll tell my parents.”

While Jordan went in search of his family, Alix removed her wedding dress from his grandmother’s door and slipped into it. She went out into the kitchen, beckoning to Jacqueline and Tammie Lee. They found a private corner, and while she explained the circumstances, Tammie Lee fastened the buttons in the back of Alix’s dress.

Larry and Susan Turner rushed into the house and Jordan brought them to the bedroom, where Alix joined them a few minutes later. Jordan’s mother had dissolved into tears.

Jordan placed his hand on his father’s shoulder as Larry slumped on the bed.

“What about the wedding?” Susan jerked up her head. “We can’t cancel it at the last second like this. We’ve already canceled it once and—”

“Mom, it’s all right. Alix and I have decided to go through with the ceremony.”

His mother sniffled loudly and nodded.

“She went so peacefully,” Larry whispered. He looked down at his mother, her Bible open on her lap, and a fleeting smile touched his lips. “When my time comes, I want to leave this earth just the way she did.”

“Oh, Larry,” Susan cried. “How can you say that? You’d think your mother could have timed it better, wouldn’t you?”

“We don’t make those decisions, Susan,” her husband reminded her. “It was God’s timing.”

“I don’t care whose timing it was, it was bad.”

Larry simply shook his head.

“Are you up to performing the ceremony?” Jordan asked him.

Larry nodded.

“We can’t have the wedding with your mother’s body in the bedroom!” Susan dabbed at her eyes with a tissue she’d extracted from her purse.

“I’ll contact the sheriff,” Alix said, taking control. She could tell that Jordan’s family had all they could do to deal with their shock and grief. “The sheriff will send the coroner.”

As Alix talked to the sheriff’s office, Jordan’s family—his older brother, Bret, his uncles, aunts and cousins—came to bid their grandmother farewell. How ironic that a day meant for joy should be so full of sorrow…and then joy.

The sheriff’s patrol car arrived at the same time as the musicians. The rows of chairs had started to fill up with wedding guests.

Alix met the sheriff, whose badge identified him as Lyle Carson, and led him inside the house. The bedroom was crowded with weeping family members. She could only imagine what it must look like, a bride in her dress and gown leading him to the body.

He removed his hat and asked Alix a few questions, as she seemed to be the only one capable of answering. The coroner came shortly afterward and it was Alix who answered his questions, too.

While he examined the body, Alix ushered everyone out of the bedroom and directed them to join the other guests.

“Larry,” she said to her soon-to-be father-in-law, “you need to go to the tent now with Jordan and Bret.” Bret had
flown in from California and was standing up as Jordan’s best man. “I suggest you tell our guests what’s happened. Perhaps you should call for a moment of silence and then say a prayer.”

Larry nodded and followed her instructions.

Taking Susan’s hand, Alix guided her out of the room, whispering reassurances as she went. Jacqueline came to their side, and Alix asked her to help Susan repair her makeup.

The rest of the family moved slowly toward the tent.

The photographer wandered aimlessly around, looking confused and uncertain. “Take a bunch of random shots of the wedding,” Alix told him. “As much as possible, avoid getting any of the emergency vehicles.”

He nodded.

Colette approached her. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Thank you for asking, but I can’t think of a thing.”

The musicians began to play the wedding march and Colette gave her a swift hug. “Go,” she said with a warm smile. “You’re about to become a bride.”

“Your guests have been apprised of the circumstances,” Reese whispered when he met Alix outside the tent. “It was handled beautifully by Jordan’s father.” He offered her his arm as he prepared to escort her down the aisle. His smile revealed his pride. “I have to say, Alix Townsend, you’re really something. I don’t know of anyone who could’ve dealt with this crisis as well as you have.”

Alix smiled shakily. The music continued and with her head held high, she walked toward her groom.

On her side of the aisle were all the people Alix loved. Lydia, Brad and Cody, who squirmed until he saw her and then waved frantically. Carol, Doug and Cameron sat in the second row. This was the first time Alix had seen her friend in a maternity dress. Elise and Maverick were there, and
Bethanne and Annie, along with Susannah, Joe, Chrissie and Colette. She saw her friends from the French Café, too.

Alix could hardly believe how many friends she’d made these last few years. It’d all begun the day she’d impulsively crossed Blossom Street and signed up for a knitting class. Who would’ve guessed that such a simple decision would forever change her life?

As she stood beside Jordan and they exchanged their vows, Alix saw the love in her husband’s eyes and knew it was a reflection of her own. As soon as the ceremony was over, Jordan kissed her. His father announced them as Mr. and Mrs. Jordan Turner, and there was a moment of sustained applause.

Everyone made an effort to celebrate, despite the sadness of that morning. They enjoyed the meal, the music, the conversation with family and friends. At around 7:00 p.m. Alix and Jordan were leaving for Victoria, British Columbia, where they’d have a two-day honeymoon.

“Are you sure we should go?” Alix asked after they’d cut the cake and made a final round of their guests.

“We should,” he insisted. “Dad and I talked it over, and we decided to hold Grandma’s funeral on Tuesday, the day after we get back.”

“Okay.” Under no circumstances did Alix want to miss it.

As she changed out of her wedding dress and into comfortable traveling clothes, Susan Turner joined her.

“Oh, Alix,” she whispered and snapped open her purse to search for another tissue. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you today.”

Alix was uncomfortable with the praise.

“You took care of everything.”

“I didn’t do—”

“Yes, you did.” Susan touched her arm. “You kept
your head, you held the family together, you and Jordan made crucial, on-the-spot decisions.”

Alix shifted from one foot to the other. “Speaking of Jordan, I’d better go find my husband.” Calling Jordan her husband for the first time seemed momentous to Alix. Until now, the meaning of that word had been abstract, impersonal, describing a role, not a man.

Now it meant Jordan.

Husband.

Alix had never realized how intimate it sounded. Intimate and yet public—a declaration of love and belonging.

“I won’t keep you.” Susan hugged her tightly. “I hope we can be very good friends, Alix.”

Alix hugged her in return. “It’ll be nice to have a mother,” she whispered.

Colette Blake

A
fter Alix and Jordan’s wedding, Colette returned exhausted to Elizabeth’s home. They had a quiet dinner of shrimp salad later that evening. Neither of them spoke much. With every day that passed, their hope diminished. It was only a little after nine when Colette excused herself and climbed up the stairs to bed.

Surprisingly, she fell asleep almost right away, only to be awakened abruptly by Elizabeth at around ten. “Colette,” the older woman said excitedly, coming into the bedroom and turning on the overhead light. “Christian’s been found! He’s alive!”

Colette immediately sat up and blinked against the bright light and the shock.

“He’s on the phone,” Elizabeth told her.

“You mean
now?
” Colette cried, thinking this must be part of some wonderful dream.

“Yes, yes! He’s waiting to talk to you.”

“Oh, thank God, thank God.” Tearing aside the sheets, Colette leaped out of bed and raced down the stairs so fast
her bare feet slipped on the carpeted steps. Breathlessly, she grabbed the hallway phone.

“Christian? Christian!”

“Colette?” He sounded as if he was phoning from the moon. She heard an echo, and his voice seemed tinny and distant.

“Yes, yes, it’s me! Are you all right? Where are you?” She dashed away tears of relief and joy.

“I’m okay,” he said, “and anxious to get home. I’ll land tomorrow night. Will you be there? I have so much to tell you.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll come to the airport. What time?”

He gave her the airline and flight number while she frantically searched for a pen and paper to write it down. When she had all the details, she repeated them back to him.

“I’ll be there, Christian. I’ll see you tomorrow….” She was so excited now she doubted she’d sleep again.

“Colette, listen,” he said, speaking quickly. “I know I’m throwing this at you out of the blue, but I need to tell you something important. I’m not involved in smuggling. I couldn’t tell you before, but the INS sent me to China. We were cooperating with the Chinese government. I was supposed to make contact with some smugglers. Get evidence.”

“Christian, tell me later. As long as you’re safe…”

“I can’t spend another second having you believe I’m a criminal! Colette, I—”

There was a burst of static on the line, cutting him off.

Colette wanted to scream with frustration. “Repeat that,” she pleaded when he came back on. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“I have to go. I love you, Colette. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she cried. The connection was completely broken then, but she held the receiver against her ear, letting his parting words settle over her.
He loved her.

After a few minutes, she reluctantly hung up the phone and turned to find Elizabeth standing at the top of the stairs.

“Christian’s coming home!” she shouted. “He’s safe!” That was by far the most important news. Christian who’d been lost had now been found, and even better, he’d soon be on a plane and flying home. “He told me he’s working with the INS—”

“I learned that, too,” his great-aunt interrupted.

“Your sources…”

“I couldn’t get a thing out of them,” she muttered, shaking her head as if to say it was a sad state of affairs when the government didn’t trust her with its business.

“He’s safe,” Colette repeated simply to hear the words again. “He’s safe.”

“I certainly hope he realizes he’s put us both through hell,” Elizabeth said briskly.

“Well, it was hardly his fault,” Colette murmured. Then she smiled, and because it was impossible to hold back the words any longer, she cried, “He loves me.”

Elizabeth sighed impatiently. “I already told you that.”

“I know, but he said it to me himself.” That made all the difference.

The old woman nodded and a slow smile creased her face. She looked more than a little pleased with herself. “Perhaps international intrigue has its uses, after all.” She raised her eyebrows. “An experience like that would make a person appreciate what—or should I say whom—he’s got at home.”

Twenty hours later, Colette and Elizabeth were at Sea-Tac Airport, waiting outside the secure area for Christian and his father to clear customs. Their flight had landed on time and without incident, according to the monitors. Colette should know; she’d checked them often enough.

Colette paced while Elizabeth sat restlessly. “What
could be taking them so long?” his great-aunt complained. “I’m an old woman and these seats are a form of torture.”

“He’s with his father, you said.” Colette remembered Elizabeth’s telling her that their relationship had been strained for years.

“I assume so,” Elizabeth said irritably. “How am I supposed to know all this? I
assume
they’re flying back on the same flight. If so, that’s no guarantee they’re speaking. Both of them are stubborn fools.”

All Colette could do was pray that this misadventure had torn down the walls between father and son. She knew only a little about their history but enough to gather that their estrangement had hurt them both.

People started to emerge from the customs area a few at a time and then finally the door opened and Elliott Dempsey stepped out, followed by his son. Christian looked thin and tired and badly in need of a shave.

Christian immediately searched for Colette. She hurried forward, and the biggest smile she’d ever seen appeared on his face. He held out his arms.

Without a pause, Colette walked into his embrace. For the longest moment all they did was cling to each other. Then he kissed her, his hands cradling her face, his mouth moving over hers. Soon she was crying, her relief overwhelming even her joy. Christian kissed her cheeks, her tears, his unshaven face scraping her skin as they rocked back and forth in each other’s arms.

“Hello, Aunt Elizabeth,” he said after a few minutes, speaking over Colette’s shoulder, still holding her against him.

“Glad to see you, too, young man,” she said with her customary curtness. “I hope you know this nonsense of yours cost me ten years of my life. I’m too old to worry like that.”

“Sorry, Aunt Betty.”

“My name is Elizabeth and you well know it.”

With her arm around Christian’s waist, Colette turned to find Elizabeth glaring at him with tears in her eyes.

Christian released Colette and wrapped his aunt in a fierce embrace, lifting her off the ground.

“Put me down this minute,” she insisted.

“Yes, Aunt Betty.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Yes, ma’am. Anything else I can do for you?”

Elizabeth glanced at Colette and then back at her great-nephew. “As a matter of fact, you can. Marry this woman.” Her gaze shifted to meet Colette’s. “Soon, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Elizabeth,” Colette chided, flushing with embarrassment.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Christian said, smiling down at Colette.

Elliott approached them, dragging a small suitcase. Introductions were quickly made, and Colette studied the older man. So this was Christian’s father. Despite his rumpled clothes and unshaven appearance, he had a dignity that impressed her.

Somehow, the news had gotten out to the press, and as soon as they walked into the main part of the terminal, the small group was bombarded with reporters. The flashes from a dozen cameras nearly blinded Colette, who put her hands in front of her face. Questions were fired at Christian, one after another. He answered a few, then authoritatively steered Colette, his aunt and father toward the car that awaited them.

Elizabeth and Elliott sat on one side of the stretch limo; Christian and Colette sat opposite them.

While his great-aunt and father spoke quietly, Chris
tian whispered in her ear. “Come home with me.” His hand gripped hers. “I need you.”

She nodded. She needed him, too.

When the vehicle stopped at his great-aunt’s home, Colette ran in to collect her things. Elizabeth watched her climb back into the car, a disapproving glint in her eyes. “Make sure there’s a ring on your finger before you give him what he wants,” she said loudly enough for Christian to hear.

“Yes, Aunt Betty,” she teased, and when the older woman frowned, Colette gave her a big hug.

During the short drive from his aunt’s house to his father’s, it became apparent that Christian and Elliott’s relationship had come a long way. They spoke to each other with affection and familiarity, laughing more than once. Christian walked his father to the front door and she watched as the two men exchanged first handshakes and then hugs.

Christian was silent when he returned to the vehicle. “I didn’t know if I’d survive this, Colette. All I could think about was getting back to you.” He reached for her hand again, entwining their fingers. “It wasn’t supposed to be dangerous, you know. The government’s occasionally used other businessmen to do this sort of thing in the past. All I had to do was meet with the smugglers—pretend to work with them. A setup, in other words. Then two of them kidnapped me in Beijing and took me to a small rural town in Shanxi province. I still don’t know how they found out. But somehow they were on to me—” He shuddered visibly.

“Tell me the rest later,” Colette said. “The only thing that matters right now is that you’re here.”

They arrived at the house and Christian let them inside. Closing the door, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her until she thought she’d faint with longing and need.

Christian rested his chin on the top of her head. “I’m exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for a month.”

“I know.” Colette nodded. “Go to bed now.”

Christian leaned back, looking directly into her eyes. “Come with me.”

The temptation was as strong as a riptide. But she shook her head, slowly, regretfully. “We have to talk first.”

His disappointment was obvious.

“Sleep,” she suggested, “and when you wake, I’ll be here.”

He seemed about to argue with her. Instead, he murmured “Good night,” and disappeared into a room at the end of the hallway. She checked on him an hour later and discovered he was dead to the world. He lay stretched out on the covers, still wearing his clothes.

Colette opened windows to let in the mild June air and disperse the stuffiness of a house that had been shut up for more than three weeks. She found a can of soup in the kitchen, heated that for dinner and phoned Elizabeth to assure the old woman that her morals were safe.

“You tell him he
has
to marry you,” Elizabeth insisted.

Colette planned to do no such thing.

She slept in a spare room and woke at about seven the next morning, when she heard Christian rummaging in the kitchen. After dressing, she joined him. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully.

She was glad to see that he looked rested. His hair was damp, he’d shaved and wore black slacks and a teal sweater, which highlighted his blue eyes.

“You must be starved,” she said.

“I am,” he agreed, “but before I do anything—other than have a coffee—I want us to talk.”

Colette hadn’t expected it to happen this soon and she wasn’t ready for it. “Let’s sit down,” she said. He’d made
a pot of coffee and carried his mug over to the table. She located tea bags and heated water in his microwave.

“I love you, Colette,” he said, just as she took the chair opposite his.

Her lips trembled as she savored his words. “I love you, too.”

“A lot of things happened before I left for China,” he said. He took her hand in his.

“Who were those men that night?”

She didn’t need to clarify her question. “The evening before I flew into China,” he said, “I met with a group of government agents.”

“Those men were with the government?” Colette remembered the two Asian men and had assumed they were involved with the smuggling. Instead they worked for the Immigration and Naturalization Service.

“Just before Christmas, I was approached by some of my contacts—here and in China—about being part of their smuggling operation. They had a system all worked out and wanted to include me. They thought I could manage to get them some sort of cover through my importing business. I went to the INS, who asked me to follow through. Or pretend to, at any rate.”

Colette tightened her fingers around his. “You took a very big risk,” she said in a tearful voice.

He grimaced. “I knew people were being exploited. I didn’t feel I had much choice. However, I couldn’t tell anyone—like you. For everyone’s protection, this had to be completely covert.”

“How did you finally get out? Did you escape?”

“I couldn’t—they watched me day and night. I was in some kind of makeshift prison for two weeks. What a hellhole! I could even hear my guards arguing about the best way to kill me.”

Colette was horrified at the thought. He would never have been seen or heard of again; she would never have known what had happened to him.

“I think the reason they didn’t murder me right away,” he went on, “is that I’m a fairly well-known businessman, and there might be repercussions if I simply disappeared. Still… I knew I probably wouldn’t see you again. I expected to die, and just when I’d given up all hope, I was rescued by a coalition of American military and Chinese police.”

Colette gave him a puzzled glance. She’d combed the newspapers for any information to do with China and hadn’t seen a single mention of the undercover operation. “There was nothing about it in the papers.”

“There won’t be. The government wants to keep it quiet.”

“For obvious reasons,” she murmured.

Christian nodded.

“What about the anonymous letter I wrote?”

“I will say that letter stirred up a bit of interest,” Christian said with a grin. “If anything, though, it worked to my advantage. It deflected any suspicion the smugglers might have had—at least the ones in North America.” He gave her a solemn look, all traces of his smile gone. “I hated deceiving you, Colette, but I didn’t have a choice.”

She’d hated deceiving him just as much; like Christian, she didn’t feel there was any option. She’d had to keep the baby a secret from him.

They moved into the living room; when he chose the sofa, clearly expecting her to sit there, too, she sat in a spindly antique chair across from him.