The Shop on Blossom Street (23 page)

ALIX TOWNSEND

J
acqueline picked up Alix outside her apartment building promptly at ten on Saturday morning. During the knitting session on Friday afternoon, Alix had casually mentioned her dinner date with Jordan in a fancy restaurant. Jacqueline had leaped upon it, eager for another opportunity to prove herself.

“I know what I did wrong,” Jacqueline insisted. “Give me a second chance and you won’t be sorry.”

Alix hoped that was true. When Jacqueline’s Mercedes pulled up to the curb, Alix stepped forward and opened the passenger door. “You’re sure about this?”

“Positive. Now get in, we’re on a schedule.”

Three months ago if anyone had told Alix she’d be friends with this society broad, Alix would have laughed outright. She and Jacqueline still sniped at each other, but now it was mostly for show. They had a reputation to live up to, and Alix wasn’t going to let it slide. Apparently Jacqueline shared her feelings.

Alix sat in the car and waited, wondering why Jacqueline hadn’t pulled onto the street.

“Seat belt,” the older woman said sternly.

Grumbling under her breath, Alix reached for the seat belt and clicked it in place.

“What?” Jacqueline snapped.

“Don’t be so prissy.”

“I’m not. By the way, we’re going to my daughter-in-law’s house.”

“Tammie Lee’s?” This was a switch. Alix had noticed a softening in Jacqueline not only toward her, but her daughter-in-law too. When Alix had first signed up for the knitting classes, Jacqueline had nothing good to say about the woman who’d married her precious son. That seemed to have changed, at least a little.

“Tammie Lee’s young and trendy. That’s the look you’re after, isn’t it?”

“It’s better than having you dress me like Barbara Bush.”

To Alix’s surprise, Jacqueline laughed. “Don’t put down our former First Ladies. I changed the spelling of my name in the fifth grade because of Jacqueline Kennedy.”

“My mother says she spelled my name with an
I
on purpose,” Alix confessed, “but I don’t think it was for any good reason. The fact is, she was probably drunk when she made out the birth certificate and accidentally misspelled it.” Alix didn’t know if that was true or not, but it was certainly possible.

They chatted on the ride to Tammie Lee’s, mostly about which fork to use first in a fancy restaurant and other rules of etiquette Jacqueline felt it was essential Alix know. They also discussed Lydia and wondered why her sister had been in the shop so much lately. Jacqueline had phoned to ask, and Alix had stopped by a couple of times.
All Margaret would say was that Lydia was under the weather. Friday’s knitting session had been rather unsatisfactory without their teacher and friend, but no one complained openly. Alix just hoped Lydia would be back the following week and so did Jacqueline.

They drove for a good twenty minutes before Jacqueline pulled into the driveway of what looked like a mansion. The house was modern with a big front yard and lots of flowers. The white pillars in front reminded her of pictures she’d once seen in a magazine. Super cool.

No sooner had Jacqueline turned off the engine than the front door opened and a girl who didn’t seem to be any older than Alix stepped outside. Tammie Lee looked like she was ready to pop at any moment and wore shorts, a maternity top and no shoes. She had a smile as big as any Alix had ever seen and her eyes sparkled with welcome.

“You’re right on time.” Tammie Lee held open the screen door. “I’ve been so eager for you to get here.”

Alix loved listening to her talk. Tammie Lee had the softest, sweetest voice she’d ever heard.

Tammie Lee hugged Jacqueline as if it’d been a year of Sundays since she’d last seen her mother-in-law. “And you must be Alix. Jacqueline didn’t tell me what a beauty you are. Why, this is going to be easier than frying up griddle cakes. You must come in and let me take a good look at you.” Before Alix could object, not that she would have, Tammie Lee had taken her arm and led her into the house.

“Where’s Paul?” Jacqueline asked.

“Golfing with his daddy,” Tammie Lee said and sounded surprised that her mother-in-law didn’t know.

Alix noticed a flicker of something in the older woman’s eyes. For an instant it looked like pain, but Alix was sure she must be wrong.

“I’ve got everything set up in the spare bedroom,” Tammie Lee said. “I took out a bunch of my clothes for Alix to try on. That way, when we find something she likes, we’ll know where to shop.”

“Good idea,” Alix said, although she couldn’t imagine wearing any style this southern belle would.

True to her word, Tammie Lee had laid an assortment of clothes on the bed in the guest room. At first glance Alix’s heart fell. There seemed to be nothing but satin, lace and girly items.

“You sort through what’s on the bed and I’ll get us all some iced tea.”

“With mint,” Jacqueline added as she sat down.

“Of course,” Tammie Lee said as she rushed from the room.

“She adds mint to everything,” Jaqueline said in a disparaging whisper.

Alix glanced at her quickly—a hint of the old disapproval was back—but didn’t comment. Instead she checked out a full-length jean skirt. This was workable but only if she wore a T-shirt with it and a wide leather belt. She set it to one side and reached for a frothy, lacy dress, which she immediately rejected.

Tammie Lee stuck her head inside the door. “Would either of you prefer a Coke?”

“I would.” Alix wasn’t shy. She’d never been a real fan of iced tea.

“With or without peanuts?”

“With.” She hadn’t had breakfast and a snack sounded good.

“I’ll have the iced tea. Do you need any help?” Jacqueline asked.

“Oh, heavens, no.” Once again Tammie Lee disappeared, but it wasn’t long before she returned.

She brought in a tray and placed it on the dresser. Jacqueline stood up to get her glass of iced tea and Alix watched as she removed the mint leaf, using her thumb and index finger as if she were picking out a dead bug.

Tammie Lee served the Coke in an old-fashioned soda glass. She’d apparently forgotten the peanuts, which was fine. Not until Alix reached for her Coke did she notice the peanuts floating on top. She couldn’t very well object now and took a sip. The taste was interesting, a blend of salt and sweet. This was probably one of those southern traditions Jacqueline complained about so much.

“I like this,” Alix said and held up the jean skirt.

“I thought you would.”

“You can’t wear jeans to a fancy restaurant,” Jacqueline objected.

“It’s not the same as regular jeans,” Tammie Lee explained.

While they discussed what could be considered proper attire for a real restaurant, Alix drank her Coke, complete with floating peanuts.

An hour later, after she’d tried on several outfits, the three of them headed to the mall in two separate cars—Alix, still riding with Jacqueline. Inside one of the major department stores, Jacqueline sat and waited, while Tammie Lee carried outfit after outfit into the dressing room. Some of them Alix rejected out of hand, but a few showed real possibility. In the end, she chose a long black skirt and a white silk blouse with a swooping neckline and cuffs that buttoned at the wrist.

It was noon, and by then Alix was starved. She would’ve been happy with a hamburger, but Jacqueline suggested a sit-down place inside the mall. She insisted they try the delicate finger sandwiches with ultra-thin slices of cucumber. Alix ate her sandwich in two bites and
had several more. She could’ve eaten out for a week on what Jacqueline paid for lunch. No wonder society women were so thin.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m exhausted,” Jacqueline said. “I just might let you two carry on without me.”

“You go home and put your feet up,” Tammie Lee told her. “I’ll take over from here if that’s okay with Alix.”

“But I do want to see Alix when you’re all finished with her.”

“I’ll call you myself,” Tammie Lee promised.

Left to their own devices, Tammie Lee and Alix made fast work of the remainder of their purchases, which included shoes and a silver necklace—all at Jacqueline’s expense. Alix would never have guessed how much she’d like Jacqueline’s daughter-in-law. Tammie Lee was fun and sweet and the nicest person she’d met in her entire life. Frankly, she didn’t know what Jacqueline found so disagreeable about her.

They stopped for a Coke at a fast-food restaurant in the food court. Because she was still hungry, Alix ordered a cheeseburger and fries to go with it.

Tammie Lee took one look at her and burst into giggles. “Make that two of everything.”

“I’m not going back to the same hairdresser.” Alix wanted that understood in case Jacqueline had forgotten her previous reaction to Ms. Desiree.

“I don’t blame you,” Tammie Lee said in a whisper. “Jacqueline wanted me to make an appointment with Desiree. So I did, shortly after Paul and I were married.”

“Did you come out looking like one of the Brady Bunch?”

“No,” she said with a silly grin, “I looked more like Don King. Every time Paul saw me, he laughed. I thought I’d die of pure mortification.”

Their order was ready, and they found a table in the middle of the seating area.

“Tell me about you and Paul,” Alix said as she unwrapped her cheeseburger.

“Oh, Alix.” Tammie Lee gave a breathy sigh. “I don’t know where to start. I never thought I’d leave Louisiana, but it’s amazing what a woman will do for love.” Her expression was dreamy. “I discovered it didn’t matter where I lived, as long as I could be with Paul. The heart takes on a will of its own, if you know what I mean?”

Alix did understand. The fact that she was in this mall was proof of that.

“If you don’t object, I’ll do your hair for you,” Tammie Lee offered.

“You will?”

“I might not have all the training Desiree does, but I’m fairly good. All my friends let me do their hair for proms and such.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“It’ll be fun.”

When Tammie Lee drove back to the house, Paul had returned from the golf course. He sat in front of the television with an empty plate in his lap and a milk glass on the end table.

“Hi, Tam,” he said and smiled at Alix. He jumped up from his chair and took the packages from Tammie Lee’s hands, kissing his wife on the cheek. “How’d the shopping go?”

“Great. This is Alix, your mother’s friend and now mine.”

“Hello, Alix.” Paul gave her the once-over, as if he wasn’t sure she was for real. “You and my mother are friends?”

“Yeah, we met in the knitting class.”

“Oh, right.” He nodded. “I remember….”

“I’m going to do Alix’s hair. She’s got a hot date tonight.”

“Sure, go ahead.” His attention had already drifted back to the baseball game.

Tammie Lee was as good as her word. By the time she’d finished, Alix felt like a candidate for Homecoming Queen. Staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Alix had to blink in order to believe the image was her own.

“What do you think?” Tammie Lee asked.

“I…you made me pretty.”

Tammie Lee slowly shook her head. “You’re already lovely, Alix, but I have a feeling your Jordan knows that.”

Her heart did a little flip-flop at the way Tammie Lee said
your Jordan,
as if it was understood that the two of them were a couple.

Before long, Jacqueline arrived to give Alix her nod of approval. While Alix suspected she fell far short of the designer dress and fancy hairdo her friend would’ve preferred, she seemed to pass muster. Tammie Lee hadn’t used anything more than a curling iron and mousse, but she’d managed to arrange Alix’s plain straight hair in a natural wavy style that suited her better than anything she’d ever imagined.

After a moment, Jacqueline smiled.

“Do you think Jordan will like it?”

Jacqueline laughed delightedly. “My dear, he’s in for a real surprise.”

That evening while she waited for Jordan to pick her up at the apartment, Alix nervously paced the living room.

“Would you stop pacing,” Laurel snapped. She was parked in front of the television with a pint of cookie-dough ice cream, which she ate directly from the container.

The knock on the door nearly sent Alix into a panic. She closed her eyes and although she wasn’t a person who’d prayed a lot in recent years, she found a prayer on her lips now. More than anything, she wanted Jordan to see her as beautiful.

Holding her breath, she opened the door.

Jordan stood there holding a wrist corsage in a clear plastic box. His eyes widened as he stood staring at her.

“Say something,” she pleaded. “Anything.”

“Wow,” he breathed. “Wow, Alix, is that really you?”

“It’s me.” Holding back a smile would have been impossible. “You like it?”

“I like you,” he said and handed her the corsage.

This was the first time in her life anyone had given her flowers and nothing in the world could have pleased her more.

LYDIA HOFFMAN

M
argaret decided to go with me to the meeting with Dr. Wilson at his office. He had all the test results and medical reports back now, and there seemed to be some confusion about the diagnosis.

Notoriously closemouthed, he did mention casually when I was released from the hospital that he’d asked a colleague to review the biopsy. That news, I suspect, was meant to encourage me. But in my heart, I knew the tumor was cancerous.

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” Margaret mumbled as we sat in the waiting area. It was the last appointment of the day, another sure sign of my prognosis, but I didn’t say any of this to Margaret.

Instead I leaned back and closed my eyes, wanting to block out the world. It was easy for my sister to suggest optimism. This wasn’t
her
life, her illness, her impending death. I couldn’t help wondering what her thoughts would’ve been had our situations been reversed. I bit back the words to remind her that she’d come running to me with her own recent scare. I was in that kind of mood right now. I could hardly keep from lashing out at the world and everyone close to me. The person who’d received the brunt of my anger, sadly, was Brad, and he was the last person who deserved it. But I refused to dwell on him or the regrets I felt whenever he crossed my mind. I’d done what I had for his own good. He would never know what it had cost me to send him away; I would carry the weight of that for the rest of my life, however short that might be.

My mother was another one I’d strived to protect. Margaret had, too. So far, we’d kept Mom in the dark. We’d concocted a story about my hospital visit having to do with a routine check-up. My mother had been all too willing to accept the lie.

Long before I was ready to confront the inevitable, Peggy came into the waiting area. This time she wasn’t holding that monstrosity of a medical file in her arms. “Dr. Wilson will see you now,” she announced.

I didn’t meet her eyes, although I heard hope and encouragement in her voice. I considered Peggy a friend, but that friendship wasn’t exclusive. She was wonderful to all of Dr. Wilson’s patients. I realized how difficult this must be for her, too. So often, she had to silently stand by and
watch Dr. Wilson’s patients lose their battles with cancer. It wasn’t a position I envied.

Margaret was on her feet before I’d managed to put my magazine down and pick up my purse. I was certainly in no hurry to have my deepest fears confirmed.

Peggy led us into Dr. Wilson’s private office. His framed degrees lined the walls; he displayed a few family photos, which were artfully arranged on a credenza. The mahogany desk was polished and uncluttered, with my file set to one side. I’d been in his private office twice before, and each time I’d been devastated by his news. I didn’t expect anything different this go-round.

Dr. Wilson wasn’t in the room when we arrived, but he walked in directly behind us. My sister shook hands with him after a murmured introduction.

Dr. Wilson rolled out his big, high-back leather chair and sat down. He reached for my file, which he brought to the center of the table. He paused and then….

“The cancer is back.” I didn’t make it a question. The tumor was gone, but I was sure there’d be more, growing in areas not as accessible as this one had been.

“Is it?” Margaret asked and to my surprise her voice quavered slightly.

So often in our lives, I’ve wanted to prove to Margaret that I was right and she was wrong. Call it sibling rivalry. This time, however, I’d have given anything to be wrong.

As I’d said earlier, there was nothing to be optimistic about. The disease refused to leave my body. I opened my mouth to announce that I’d refuse treatment. I had neither the will nor the strength to face a third battle. Not without my father.

“Because of your history,” Dr. Wilson began, “I felt it was doubly important to be certain before I made a prog
nosis. I had the biopsy sent to the top brain cancer specialist in the country.”

I held my breath almost afraid to hope, certain the news would devastate me.

“What did he say?” Margaret asked, slipping closer to the edge of her seat.

“She agrees with me. The tumor was benign.”

“Benign,” I repeated, wanting to be sure I’d heard him correctly. The tumor was benign.

“Yes.” Dr. Wilson smiled at me but I was too shocked to react. “Everything’s going to be all right this time, Lydia. You’re cancer-free.” He stood up and walked over to an X-ray display panel on his wall. He removed two X-rays from inside an envelope and clipped them onto the lit panel. Taking out his pen, he pointed to the film. “This is the first X-ray we took and this is the one following the surgery.”

“Are you saying I won’t need radiation or chemotherapy?”

He shook his head. “No reason for it.”

I sat up straighter.

“It’s very good news, don’t you think?”

I was too numb to agree with him or even nod. Dr. Wilson’s voice faded as the realization slowly came. My life had been given back to me.

I’m not sure when I rose to my feet but suddenly I was standing. I covered my mouth and feared I was about to embarrass myself by bursting into tears. I noticed, to my astonishment, that Margaret was weeping. She rose and hugged me and started sobbing louder.

“You’re going to be all right,” she kept repeating. “Oh, Lydia, you’re going to be all right.”

Dr. Wilson was explaining a new medication he’d prescribed for me and the side effects, but nothing he said made sense just then. I was too happy to care.

Margaret and I both went from open weeping to ridiculous amusement, and our reactions were almost perfectly synchronized. Our giggles must have sounded hysterical. Margaret placed the tips of her fingers against her lips and refused to look at me. She made an effort to focus on what Dr. Wilson was trying to explain. None of it mattered. All I knew was that I had my life back. My beautiful, wonderful life was my own once again.

Not until we were outside the office did I think about Brad. “Margaret,” I said, gripping my sister by the arm as the happiness drained out of me. We stood in front of the elevator. Margaret must have heard the distress in my voice because her smile faded.

“What?”

“Brad… I was so cruel to him when all he wanted to do was help.”

Margaret was obviously struggling not to scream
I told you so
at me, but all she said was, “Talk to him.”

I’d missed Brad dreadfully and I longed to call him, but I couldn’t. He’d attempted to visit me twice more while I was hospitalized, but I’d refused to see him. He’d asked the nurse to deliver a letter to me. I knew if I read it he’d change my mind, so I’d asked her to take it away, sight unseen.

Later the nurse returned and told me Brad had been waiting for a reply and she’d been forced to tell him I wouldn’t read his letter. Now it all seemed melodramatic and senseless. I might well have ruined the most promising relationship of my life.

“I can try to talk to Brad, but I don’t know if he’ll listen.” I wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to see me again. My one hope was that he couldn’t very well ignore me when he made deliveries to my store.

Bright and early Tuesday morning, I was back in busi
ness. I can’t even begin to explain the thrill it gave me to walk into my shop and turn the CLOSED sign to read OPEN. Even the noise from the construction across the street couldn’t dampen my good mood.

Reality intruded with a list of instructions from Dr. Wilson. I was apparently a good candidate for this new drug treatment to prevent the growth of future tumors.

My morning was constantly busy as customers streamed into the store, all with questions as to why I’d been away for most of a week. It turns out that many of them had learned I was back—one person phoned another who called a third, and so forth. I can’t even describe how gratifying that was. Margaret had done her best to be helpful, keeping the store open for part of every day, but my customers were accustomed to dealing with me.

Margaret seemed to have enjoyed working at the store. As little as three months ago, I couldn’t have imagined thinking warmly of my older sister. I was deeply appreciative of everything she’d done for me.

At noon, when I had my first lull of the day, I glanced anxiously out the shop windows, hoping for a glimpse of Brad. When the big brown truck rolled to a stop in front of the floral shop, I nearly raced out the door. But the UPS driver wasn’t Brad.

“Where’s Brad?” I blurted out.

The replacement glanced over his shoulder at the abruptness of my question. “Brad is no longer on this route.”

“What do you mean he’s no longer on this route?” I demanded. It felt as if the sidewalk had started to buckle beneath my feet. I couldn’t believe Brad would do anything as drastic as this.

“Brad’s delivering in the downtown area now.”

I knew what had happened. “He requested a transfer, didn’t he?”

The UPS driver shrugged. “I wouldn’t know about that. Sorry.”

“Do you ever see him?” I asked, hoping to use the other man to relay a message.

“Not much.” He was preoccupied, and I was clearly detaining him, so I returned to my store, my steps dragging.

I knew that what I’d done to Brad was wrong. I’d badly hurt the one person who’d proved himself to me over and over. All I could do was hope it wasn’t too late to make amends.