Rose Harbor in Bloom (32 page)

“My mother wants to talk to you.”

“That’s your important message?” she cried. Oh, boy, had she hit the nail on the head with that one. “Did you tell your mother about your little slip with that cupcake?”

Lenny blinked, which was answer enough.

“You didn’t.” It was a statement instead of a question. “You placed the blame for the broken engagement on my shoulders.”

“What did you expect? Well, if you hadn’t broken off the engagement earlier, then it’s over for sure now.”

“Then there’s no problem,” she said, glad they could agree on the subject.

“You leave me no choice, especially in light of what I just witnessed between you and what’s-his-name.”

“Oliver,” he said, answering for her.

Annie stepped forward. “I’ve already explained who Oliver is.”

“Annie.” Oliver placed his hand on her shoulder in an effort to silence her.

“Let me talk to him myself,” she said, wanting this break with Lenny to be clean and final. It went without saying that it was difficult for Oliver to stand back and let her deal with her former fiancé. She placed a restraining hand on his forearm.

“All weekend I’ve been sick with worry because I haven’t been
able to reach you,” Lenny continued, sounding sad and broken. “I was frantic. I didn’t sell a single car. You know what that does to my monthly average. I could lose the top salesman award this month, and it would be all your fault.”

“Really?” she asked, trying hard to hide her sarcasm. “And you didn’t have a clue where I might be?”

“No. And it wasn’t like I didn’t try to find you, either,” he argued. “I called all your friends.”

“Who?” Any friend of hers would know exactly where she was, seeing how she’d worked tirelessly for this anniversary party.

“Elle, for one.”

Elle, Annie’s onetime friend, who Lenny had flirted with endlessly. Annie hadn’t spoken to Elle in weeks—months, actually—now that she thought about it. “Anyone else?”

Lenny frowned and looked down. “There were others.”

“Who?”

“What does it matter? The point is I was beside myself, sick with worry.”

She didn’t believe that for a moment. “You should have been able to figure it out for yourself, Lenny,” she said, unwilling to listen to his excuses any longer.

“How was I supposed to know this was the weekend of your parents’ big shindig?”

“Grandparents’.”

“Whatever,” he muttered.

“You should have known because it was important to me.”

“Okay, I get it now. You’re pissed because all those months ago I told you I couldn’t come. I get it. This is what it’s all about. But like I told you way back then, weekends are when I get my sales. I can’t take off on a Saturday because a bunch of old people managed to stay married.”

“Lenny, oh, Lenny, I made such a terrible mistake.”

He looked up, and his eyes brightened. “I know, but I’m willing
to put all this behind us. You’re the first girl my mother ever liked, and she was really upset when I told her the wedding was off.”

“Annie?” Oliver whispered.

“It’s all right,” she whispered back. Returning her attention to Lenny, she straightened her shoulders. “You’re a handsome, charismatic man, with huge potential.”

He smiled, and his eyes warmed as he shrugged.

“The thing is, I fell in love with being in love. I felt the need to have someone special in my life, and there you were—handsome and funny and successful.”

Again he shrugged. “Some people claim I’m the life of the party.”

“You are,” she agreed. “But you don’t know the meaning of being faithful or honorable …”

“Oh, come on, Annie, you aren’t going back to that again, are you? Okay, you’re right, I screwed up a second time, but I did end up selling her a car.”

“Fidelity is important,” she insisted.

Lenny glared at Oliver. “Well, isn’t that a little like the pot calling the kettle black? It seems you had a cozy weekend yourself with an old family friend.”

Right away, Oliver stepped forward and stood toe to toe with Lenny. They were so close their noses almost touched.

“You’ve got a pretty face, just the way Annie mentioned,” Oliver said between clenched teeth. “I’d hate to break it, but you’re making it extremely difficult to hold back.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Annie insisted.

Both men ignored her, staring each other down.

“A broken nose would likely ruin your looks,” Oliver muttered.

“Do you seriously think you could take me?” Lenny challenged. “Remember, I’ve had judo classes.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot. Well, guess what, lover boy, so have I.”

Lenny blinked.

Annie wasn’t about to idly stand by and let these two men with overactive testosterone make fools of themselves. She grabbed hold of each by the shoulder and attempted to separate them.

“This is crazy,” she shouted. “I told you before, Lenny, it’s over. There’s no going back, so kindly leave. You’re missing sales being here.”

He dropped his arms and stepped back. “My mother …”

“You’ll find someone else she approves of before you know it.”

He sighed, and with a pained look said, “It isn’t going to be that easy.”

“Good-bye, Lenny.”

He nodded, conceding that it was a lost cause. With his head down and his shoulders hunched, he climbed back into the red sports car and started the engine.

Annie faced Oliver. “Have you really had judo lessons?”

“Yes. Do you honestly think I’d lie in the face of such danger?”

Annie wasn’t sure she should believe either man.

“I was eight,” he added.

“Eight?”

“Lenny was bluffing as well. He wouldn’t do anything that would mess up that face, and we both knew it.”

He was probably right. If Lenny had really had judo lessons, he would have bragged about it long before now.

“There’s something else.”

“Oh, and what’s that?”

“My mother likes you, too. She’s been telling me for years I needed to find a nice girl like the Shivers’s oldest granddaughter.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Am not.”

Laughing, Annie opened the car door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Oliver got in beside her.

“We were in the middle of an important discussion, if you remember, before we were so rudely interrupted,” Annie reminded him. “I want you to go on your trip.”

“And give you the time you need.”

“Right.”

He wasn’t happy, but there wasn’t anything he could do to change that.

“You’ll join me in a few months, when you can arrange it?”

She glanced over at him, smiled, and said, “We’ll see, but right now I’d say it’s a distinct possibility.”

Mary’s heart raced as they pulled into the parking lot of the Bremerton stadium, where the graduation exercises were taking place. George drove around until he found a parking spot close to the entrance so she wouldn’t have far to walk. He turned off the engine, but before he could open his door, Mary stopped him.

He turned toward her, his look expectant.

“George, are we doing the right thing?” she asked, grabbing hold of his arm. It felt as though her heart was about to pound straight out of her chest. In all her life, she’d never been this anxious or nervous about anything. Over the years, Mary had faced many challenges in her career, but nothing, not even meetings with government officials or irate fund managers, had unnerved her this much. She’d sat in stockholder meetings and faced angry boards of
directors, and nothing—absolutely nothing—terrified her as much as the realization she was about to see the child she had given up for adoption. The daughter she loved.

“What do you mean?” George asked. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

“It is.”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now.”

Mary didn’t know what to tell him. “I’d barely grown comfortable with just being in the same city as Amanda,” she whispered.

“Are you”—he hesitated as though he couldn’t imagine that it was even possible—“afraid?”

Instinctively, Mary felt she should deny it, but the denial died on her lips. She would never be able to fool George. He would see through her bravado in a heartbeat. “I’m scared to death,” she whispered, hardly able to find her voice. “My heart is racing … and look at me.” She held out her hands so he could see how badly shaken she was.

“My love,” George said, smiling with serene confidence. “She’ll never know her birth parents are in the audience.”

“But I’ll know she’s there,” Mary cried.

“Do you think there’s even the slightest possibility that she would recognize us?”

“No …” Naming her fear was as difficult as admitting it.

“Then what?”

Mary hung her head and fiddled with her hands, clasping and unclasping the opening to her purse. “My biggest fear is not her recognizing me but me being unable to hold back from telling her how proud I am that she’s my child.”

“In a graduating class of six hundred, let me assure you that there is very little chance we will even get close to Amanda.”

While he made perfect sense, his reassurances didn’t help. “Our blood flows through her veins.” She choked up and bit into her lower lip. “This is our daughter.”

“I won’t let anything happen to upset you,” George reassured her in gentle tones, as if he understood far better than she realized. “Amanda is part of us, but she belongs to another family that loves her.”

Mary accepted that she had no claim on Amanda Palmer; still, she felt such a deep hesitation that she remained frozen inside the car.

“Come, now; it’s time.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“You can, and you will,” George insisted. Not waiting for her, he climbed out of the car, came around to her side, and opened the passenger door.

Mary looked up at him, stiff with indecision.

“You haven’t come this far to turn back now.”

He was right, and in her heart Mary knew it. Inhaling deeply, she stepped out of the vehicle. George’s hand was at her elbow, helping her. They were silent as they walked across the parking lot and joined the throng of family and friends entering the building. As they came into the large auditorium, George handed the attendant two tickets. They were then escorted to their assigned seats.

The level of excitement could be felt the moment Mary entered the room. She felt the anticipation of the other guests, mingled with joy and happiness. The noise level was high, which made it almost impossible to be heard. She stayed close to George’s side.

Mary didn’t know how George had managed to acquire tickets. Their seats were in the middle section and allowed them a good view of the stage. As soon as they sat down, George reached for her hand.

Mary was grateful he was with her, and she clung to him. After a while, she wrapped her arm around his elbow and leaned against him, needing his strength and reassurance. This behavior was so unlike her, she could only imagine what George must be thinking.
She reached for his hand and held on tight. She doubted she would be able to get through this event without him.

Before long the music sounded and the graduating class entered the auditorium in the formal procession. Mary immediately scanned the faces of teenagers as they marched into the room, seeking out the ones with the markings that indicated they were members of the National Honor Society. As valedictorian, Amanda would be wearing one of those. She didn’t immediately find Amanda, but when she did, Mary’s grip tightened on George in a punishing hold.

He understood immediately. “You see her?”

Mary nodded. “She’s walking into the front row. Third one in on the right.”

The second row moved into place, so all George was likely to see of Amanda now was the back of her head.

Mary hadn’t attended any graduations other than her own, and that had been many years ago. Far too many years to count. The atmosphere was certainly different. Her own graduations from high school and college had been solemn affairs. Here the ambience was completely different—festive and jovial. In Mary’s time, such disrespect would never have been tolerated. The crowd reacted with whistles and applause at the slightest provocation.

When the ceremony began, the school principal, Mr. LaCombe, spoke briefly and introduced the class president, who said a few words. Mary barely heard the speaker, a young man who greeted the family and friends who had come to share in this happy occasion. When it came time for the valedictorian’s speech, George placed Mary’s hand over his forearm. It seemed they both held their breath as Amanda walked across the stage.

As the eighteen-year-old stepped up to the lectern, Mary could sense how nervous Amanda was. She unfolded her speech and set it down and then held on to both sides of the lectern as she looked out over the crowd as though searching for a familiar face.

After a moment, she smiled and Mary realized she had found the one who gave her confidence. Mary’s gaze followed Amanda’s, and she saw the woman, who gave her a thumbs-up. Amanda’s mother.

Amanda started her speech by thanking the school principal and her fellow graduates.

Mary leaned forward, listening intently. The teenager spoke of her experiences as a student and of the others with whom she had spent the last twelve years.

This told Mary that Amanda had lived in Cedar Cove nearly all her life. She wondered when and how the family had moved into the area, but the answer was one she would probably never know.

“And now we’re all on the brink of starting a new life,” Amanda continued. “For some of us, that will mean college or trade school. For others, it might mean joining the armed forces. This will likely be the last time the entire senior class will ever be together again.”

From life experience, Mary knew that was true. She’d never returned to her hometown for high school reunions, or for that matter college reunions. All the reunions had come at especially busy times, and she simply hadn’t been able to get away. She would have liked to reconnect with some of her friends, although they were precious few, because she was so desperately needed at home. She could reach out, Mary realized, which was something she’d always meant to do and hadn’t. And now it was probably too late.