The Twenty-First Wish Page 9

  “Is Ellen here?” he asked stiffly.

  “Would you like to come in?”

  “Not really. I came by to make sure her bike’s working properly after I fixed it.”

  “It’s fine.” His excuse was so flimsy, she had to suspect there was another reason—one that had to do with her. Now that he was here, Anne Marie had no intention of letting him go. “Come inside, Tim,” she said again, opening the screen door to usher him in. “I’m glad to see you.”

  He met her eyes as if to gauge the sincerity of her words.

  “I’ve missed you,” she added.

  “Good,” he said mildly, although his expression gave nothing away.

  “Good?” she repeated. “You wanted me to miss you?”

  He didn’t respond, except with a smile. A very slight smile.

  “Did you miss me?” she asked.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “As a matter of fact, it is. I want to know if you thought about me in the past week.”

  He shrugged.

  “That’s no answer.”

  “If I admitted you were on my mind every minute of every day, would you lord it over me?”

  Her smile was so wide it hurt her mouth. “I might.”

  “That’s what I figured. Women are like that. They demand their pound of flesh—and this time my Shakespearean quote is correct.”

  “Yes, it is, but the context is wrong.” Anne Marie frowned. “You were doing very well until you said that. You should know I’m not going to let you make derogatory comments about half of humanity.”

  “You’re the one who was going to lord it over me if I admitted I missed you—which I did.”

  “I already admitted I missed you, but I’ll say it again.” There, she’d extended an olive branch.

  He grinned and looked so appealing that it was all she could do not to kiss him right then and there.

  “Mom!” Ellen skipped out of the kitchen, clutching the phone in one hand. She stopped when she saw Tim. “Oh, hi, Dad.”

  “Hello, sweetheart.”

  “Mom, can April come over and play?”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Can she bring Iris, too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can she stay for lunch?”

  Anne Marie nodded.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Ellen brought the phone back to her ear and returned to the kitchen, chattering as she walked.

  “Okay, where were we?” Anne Marie asked, her hand on her hip.

  Tim smiled again. “I believe you just said you missed me so much that your whole world’s sad and gray.”

  Anne Marie felt her mouth twitch. “Ah…that’s not quite the way I remember it.”

  “I was close, though, wasn’t I?”

  Anne Marie had a question of her own. “Why didn’t you call?”

  “I called.”

  “To talk to Ellen, but not me.”

  He sobered, and his smile faded. “How’s Mel?”

  “Very well. We had drinks last night.”

  A muscle tightened in Tim’s jaw. “I see.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “I’m here to check on Ellen’s bike. I wouldn’t want to take up any more of your time.”

  “Your being here has nothing to do with Ellen’s bicycle.” She wasn’t going to play that silly game with him.

  “If you’re still involved with Mel, then I don’t think we have much to say to each other.”

  “Are you always this obtuse?”

  “I’m not the least bit obtuse.”

  That was when Ellen came back into the living room. “April’s on her way over.”

  Anne Marie turned her attention to her daughter. “I’ll start lunch in a few minutes. Right now your father and I are having a discussion.”

  Ellen remained where she was. “Are you fighting?”

  “No,” Anne Marie said.

  “Yes,” Tim said.

  “We’re having a difference of opinion,” Anne Marie clarified, glaring at Tim.

  “Did you tell him about my twenty-first wish?” the girl asked.

  “No.” Furthermore, she had no intention of doing so.

  Ellen’s face fell.

  “What’s your twenty-first wish?” Tim asked.

  “I’ll make lunch.” Without waiting for anyone to agree or disagree, Anne Marie left the room. She searched the refrigerator, and not finding anything that suited her, took out a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter. Ellen would be happy with that, and she hoped April would, too.

  The sandwiches were ready when Tim entered the kitchen. He pulled out a bar stool and perched on it. “Did you make me one of those?”

  “No. Should I have?”

  “It would’ve been the polite thing to do.”

  She extracted two slices from the loaf of bread. “At the moment I don’t feel like being polite.”

  “So I noticed.” He didn’t say anything as she prepared his peanut butter sandwich, cut it in quarters, and set the plate in front of him. “Do you want a glass of milk, too?”

  “I might shock you if I told you what I want.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “And what would that be?”

  He leaned forward and braced his hands on the edge of the counter. “I have wishes of my own. I’ve never written them down the way Ellen has, but I’ve given those wishes a great deal of thought, especially in the last few weeks.”

  Anne Marie leaned against the counter, too, and waited for him to continue. “What kind of wishes?”

  “Well, one wish was to find my daughter.”

  “That was granted.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “Go on.” She refused to let him sidetrack her.

  “Another was to fall in love.”

  “Vanessa, right?”

  “Fall in love again,” he amended.

  Still standing on the other side of the counter, she pressed her palms against it. Their faces were only inches apart. “And?”

  “I fell so hard, it was like nothing I’d ever felt before.”

  “Then…”

  “Then I discovered that the woman I loved was involved with someone else.”

  “If we’re talking about the same woman—”

  “I think we must be.”

  “Then that…woman’s been doing her utmost to explain that she’s no longer ‘involved’ with this other man.”

  “No longer involved?” Tim repeated. “Since when?”

  “Since last night when they met for a drink. However, the person she’s been wanting to tell has been obtuse—yes, obtuse—and is severely trying her patience.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “It is.”

  “What I’d like to know is if this woman you mentioned is in love with me.”

  Anne Marie reached for a quarter of his sandwich and took a bite. “I think she must be.”

  “You think? You mean to say you aren’t sure?”

  “Well…it’s a big decision to love another person.” Recalling her conversation with Lydia, about how love was ultimately a choice, she used the word decision deliberately. Yes, the emotions, the sensations, might be involuntary, but real love was also something chosen. Something that had to be cherished and protected.

  “I agree. Very big.”

  “There’s commitment, to each other and to any children….”

  Tim nodded. “One might suggest marriage as a way of keeping that commitment.”

  “One might.”

  “That’s another of my wishes,” he said.

  Anne Marie set her piece of the sandwich aside. “Marriage requires a lot of trust.”

  “Yes, it does. It’s—”

  He stopped when Ellen and April walked in. Ellen immediately looked at Anne Marie, then at Tim and back again. “Are you two still fighting?” she asked.

  “We aren’t fighting,” Tim assured her.

  “We’re discussing our wishes,” Anne Marie said.

/>   “Wishes?” April asked curiously.

  “Mom and I made a list of twenty wishes,” Ellen explained to her friend. “I have twenty-one now. I added one.”

  “I added one to my list, as well,” Anne Marie said.

  “You did?” Ellen stared at her. “Are you going to tell us what it is?”

  Anne Marie nodded. “My wish is that you and Tim and I can one day be a family.”

  “I like that wish,” Tim said in a low voice, a voice full of meaning.

  “I do, too.” Ellen pointed to the counter. “Is that our lunch?”

  Anne Marie handed her daughter and April their plates.

  “Can we eat in my bedroom?” Ellen asked.

  “Yes, just this once. And don’t feed the dogs.”

  “Okay.”

  The girls disappeared down the hallway.

  “Now where were we?” Anne Marie murmured.

  “I believe we were talking about wishes coming true. Even twenty-first wishes.”

  “I do believe you’re right,” she whispered.

  Tim reached for her with the kitchen counter between them. It didn’t take her long to skirt around it and find her way completely into his arms. Then they were laughing and talking between kisses, unable to stop touching and holding each other.

  “I wasn’t kidding,” Tim said. “I want us to get married soon.”

  “I wasn’t kidding, either—” But she didn’t finish her sentence because Tim was kissing her again.

  They were startled by Ellen’s voice. “Mom,” she said, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

  Tim and Anne Marie broke apart as Anne Marie straightened her blouse and tried to look as normal as possible.

  Ellen wore a huge grin as she put the empty plates in the sink. “You’re going to need the bride’s purse I’m making, aren’t you?”

  Tim slipped his arm around Anne Marie’s waist. “She is. How fast can you knit?”

  “Real fast,” Ellen told him, and then with her arms wide open she hugged them both.

  September 10

  This afternoon Tim Carlsen and I will be married in a private ceremony at the lake house with his family and mine in attendance. I’m so happy I can barely contain myself. Once I allowed my feelings for Tim to emerge, I was astonished at how deeply I cared for him. I had all along, but my pride had refused to let me acknowledge that. Tim is everything I want in a husband.

  Ellen told us she’s bringing her list of wishes to the ceremony so she can mark off her twenty-first wish as soon as we’re officially husband and wife. I have a lovely pink summer dress that goes beautifully with the pink bride’s purse she knit me.

  This is the second happiest day of my life, the first being the day of Ellen’s adoption. Who would ever have guessed when I made my very first wish—to find love again—that God would send me a daughter and then, as a bonus, her father. My husband. Tim.

  September 10

  Mom and Dad are getting married today. I always knew they would but sometimes adults need help. I can cross off my twenty-first wish now.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for sneak peek at

  THE SUMMER RETREAT

  The latest story in the Moonlight Harbor series

  from Sheila Roberts.

  Available soon from MIRA Books.

  Celeste Jones had kissed so many frogs looking for her prince she should have turned green and grown warts on her lips. But she’d finally gotten it right in the man department. Emerson Frank was strong and smart. And sexy. Masculine and excitingly alpha. And a great dancer. And sexy. And a cop. Did it get any sexier than that? Yes, definitely sexy. They’d been together a year, and what a great year it had been. He’d spent so much time at her place he might as well have moved in, but he felt it wouldn’t look good, her being a teacher and all. As if first graders knew anything about the birds and the bees or cared what their teacher did in her off hours. As if anyone cared what anyone did with anyone these days. It had been sweet of him to think of that though, and she loved him all the more for it.

  Still, why not make what they had official since it was so great? “We have time,” he was always saying. “Relax and enjoy the ride.”

  She could do that. Spring had come, and she was looking ahead to a summer of off-roading, trips to Eastern Washington to visit the wineries. And meeting each other’s families.

  Nothing wrong with taking your family along on the ride. But whenever she tried to get him over to her mother’s or suggested a trip to the beach to meet her sister Jenna and her great aunt Edie it seemed something came up to prevent it. Same with meeting his family. There was always an excuse. His parents were busy. He was busy. He had to work an extra shift. (That seemed to happen a lot lately. Was it normal for a police officer to have to pull so many extra shifts?)

  If it wasn’t for his reluctance to take things to the next level, Emerson Frank would be perfect. No, no, he was perfect. He just didn’t want to rush into anything. And really, there was nothing wrong with that. Celeste had done her share of rushing and it hadn’t led to anything good. But after all this time it was hardly rushing to meet the parents.

  Maybe they needed to have a talk, she thought as she left school late on a Friday afternoon. She and Emerson were going to hit the gym together, then he was coming over to her place for pizza and to watch a movie. Before they got lost in movie land she was determined they’d talk about what was going on in the real world. She stopped by Papa Murphy’s and picked up a take and bake pizza, then popped into the grocery store for some Pepsi to go with it and some salad makings.

  She was getting into her car when he called her on her cell. “Can’t hang out tonight, babe,” he said. “I feel like shit.”

  “Oh, no. What’s wrong?”

  “I think I’ve got a fever. Maybe it’s the flu.”

  Flu in late May? She thought people got that over the winter. “I’m sorry,” she said. “And here I just picked up pizza for tonight.”

  “Freeze it.”

  “It’s Papa Murphy’s.” Okay, did that sound like she was trying to guilt him or bribe him into coming over? Yes, she wanted to see him, but she didn’t want him to get worse. And while she wanted to see him she didn’t want to see his germs. “I guess I’ll bake it and then freeze it. We can have it when you’re well.”

  “Whatever,” he said.

  Whatever was right. As if he cared what she was going to do with their pizza when he was sick. “Well, feel better,” she said. “Love you, Law and Order.”

  “Back atcha,” he said, and ended the call.

  Back atcha, that was about as close as he ever came to getting mushy. Oh, he had no problem saying he wanted her, was crazy about her, was into her, but the L word seemed to get stuck in his mouth. A couple of times she’d tried to teasingly pull it out of him, offering to give him speech therapy. “Repeat after me, looooove.” He would smile and shake his head and reply, “You know how I feel about you.”

  She did. Of course, she did. Didn’t she?

  “I don’t know,” Celeste’s sister Jenna had said when she’d checked in after Valentine’s Day and learned there was still no ring, no proposal, no mention of meeting the family.

  “Remember, he was married once before,” Celeste had reminded her. He’s just cautious. You should understand that.”

  “There’s cautious and then there’s taking advantage of a woman,” Jenna had said.

  And then Celeste had to go… do something, anything. Bye. Her sister’s words had sounded like what their mother would say. If her mother knew that Celeste and Emerson had hooked up. Months ago. Fortunately, Mom never asked, and Celeste never volunteered the information.

  But Mom did ask when she was going to get to meet the amazing man in Celeste’s life.

  Soon, Celeste decided. As soon as he got well he she was hauling him over to her mother’s house. Even if she had to use his handcuffs on him.

  Meanwhile, though, the poor guy. What could she do to ma
ke him feel better? Chicken soup! She wasn’t the most amazing cook around, but she did make a mean chicken soup. And even though the weather was warm, when you were sick you needed soup. She went back into the store and bought a rotisserie chicken, then drove to her apartment and got to work.

  Within an hour she was pulling a fragrant chicken rice soup off the burner to cool. That would make him feel better. While it cooled she redid her make-up, checked out Instagram and Facebook and texted her friend Vanita. Then she put her soup in a container, hopped in her Prius and drove over to Emerson’s apartment on her mission of mercy.

  He rented a slick unit in a building that had a pool and a party room. Two-bedrooms. Plenty of room to spread out. Okay, if they ever got married someone would have to sacrifice some stuff because his place was pretty full and her apartment (also two bedrooms) was packed to the gills with furniture and cute garage sale finds. Her second bedroom served as an office and craft room. Well, they could always buy a house.

  She wanted a house. And a yard. And kids. And a dog. Emerson needed to get with the program. She was enjoying the ride, but she’d enjoy it a lot more with an engagement ring on her finger She didn’t mind waiting but she didn’t want to wait forever to start a family. She was thirty-six, for crying out loud. Thirty-six and a half to be exact. The alarm on her biological clock was going off. Yes, once he was well they were definitely going to have that talk she thought as she went up the stairs to his second-floor unit.

  She was sure she heard music coming from inside as she knocked on the door. And voices. Did he have the T.V. on?

  She was about to knock again when the door opened. There stood Emerson in swimming trucks, chest bare, six pack on display. Why? … What? … Was he feeling better? Taking a swim to cool his fevered brow?

  “Is that the pizza delivery?” called a female voice.

  Pizza delivery! Emerson had a fever going all right but it wasn’t from the flu. “I thought you were sick.” You big, rotten lizard.

  His face suddenly looked sunburned. “I’m feeling better.”

  “I just bet you are,” she snapped and pushed past him.

  “Celeste,” he protested.

  There, coming out of his second bedroom was a woman showing off long hair with an expensive rainbow tint job. Her hair wasn’t all she was showing off. That bikini barely covered anything. Not that she had that much to cover.