and if she added soccer and Girl Scouts to that, there wouldn’t be enough time just to sit and read or knit or play imaginative games with her dolls.
“I got your message,” Lillie said. “You found a house?”
“Yes! We move August first.” The house was in a good neighborhood close to Woodrow Wilson Elementary, which meant Ellen wouldn’t need to change schools. With all the upheaval in the child’s life, Anne Marie had wanted to keep her there.
“I’ll have a real bedroom, too,” Ellen inserted.
“And a real bed,” Anne Marie said. Ellen hadn’t complained once about sleeping on the fold-down sofa in the tiny apartment. One of her first purchases would be a bedroom set for Ellen, with a matching dresser, bookcase and computer desk.
She looked forward to getting her own things out of storage. She’d delayed for a long time, preferring to live in the small apartment rather than move. Her fear was that the household goods that had belonged to her and Robert would trigger too many memories.
A few months ago, Anne Marie hadn’t felt strong enough to deal with the past. Her grief had been too raw, too close to the surface. She’d purposely kept the furniture in storage, convinced she’d never find the courage to sit at the table where she’d shared so many meals with her husband. Every item, everything she’d so carefully packed away, was linked to Robert.
But the memories of her life with him no longer tormented her. Even knowing of his betrayal, she continued to love him and always would.
Michael and Melissa ceremonially cut the first slice of cake, and Melissa beckoned to Ellen.
“Can I serve cake now?” Ellen asked, eyeing the slices Melissa’s friends were placing on colorful plates. “Is it time?”
“Looks like it,” Brandon said. They stood up and headed for the table, where the plates had been set out.
“Aren’t you going to throw the bouquet?” Alicia, the maid of honor, asked Melissa.
“Oh, my goodness, I almost forgot.” Melissa turned her back to her group of friends and hurled the bouquet over her shoulder.
Anne Marie hadn’t been part of that group. She didn’t mean to participate, but when the bouquet shot directly at her, she instinctively grabbed it.
“Anne Marie!” Melissa cried, laughing delightedly. “You caught the bouquet!”
Ellen squealed with excitement, a plate of cake in each hand.
“This means,” Melissa told her, “that Anne Marie will be the next one to get married.”
“I don’t think so.” Anne Marie tried to pass the bouquet to one of Melissa’s college friends, who refused to take it.
“Don’t be so sure,” Melissa chided good-naturedly. “You never know when love’s going to tap on the door.”
Frankly, Anne Marie wasn’t interested in falling in love again. She had everything she needed for happiness. Ellen was part of her life now, and she’d made peace with the past. She had Blossom Street Books. Her eyes fell on Lillie and Hector, and she immediately added dear friends to her list of blessings.
“Look,” Ellen said, tugging at her sleeve. She pointed at the French doors.
Music swirled in from the piano player in the nearby bar.
Anne Marie bent down. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“It’s raining.”
It was more of a mist than rain but Anne Marie didn’t point that out. “Yes?”
“Your wish,” Ellen reminded her.
What wish?
Then Anne Marie remembered.
Taking Ellen’s hand, she walked out to the small patio. With the music playing softly in the background, they removed their shoes and stepped onto the wet grass.
Ellen slipped one arm around Anne Marie’s waist and together they spun ’round and ’round.
“We’re dancing barefoot in the rain.” Ellen giggled.
Throwing back her head, Anne Marie giggled, too.
The music grew louder and their movements became more sweeping as the rain fell and people gathered at the open doors to watch them.
She saw Brandon giving them a thumbs-up and Michael and Melissa waving. Lillie and Hector smiled.
Anne Marie Roche had made Twenty Wishes and they’d brought her love.
Epilogue
November
The courtroom was crowded as Anne Marie and Ellen waited patiently for their turn to come and stand before the judge. When their names were called, Anne Marie stepped forward with Ellen beside her. Evelyn Boyle, Ellen’s social worker, moved to the front of the court.
Judge Harold Roper read over the paperwork, which included a home study and background check. This was actually a formality; Child Protective Services had already approved the adoption. The six months had passed quickly. They’d moved into their new home, and Ellen was a third-grader now, getting top marks in her classes.
“So, Ellen, you’re going to have a new mother,” Judge Roper said.
“Yes, Judge,” Ellen answered politely.
“Your Honor,” Anne Marie whispered.
“Your Honor,” Ellen repeated.
She placed her hand in Anne Marie’s and edged closer to her side.
“Congratulations,” the judge said and signed his name at the bottom of the document.
“That’s all there is?” Ellen asked in a whisper.
Anne Marie was surprised herself. “Apparently so.”
Anne Marie’s mother wept noisily at the back of the courtroom. The next name was called, and Anne Marie and Ellen hugged and left the room. Laura Bostwick continued to sob, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue as they walked out into the hallway. The heavy door closed behind them.
“Are you sure you can’t come to the party, Mom?” Anne Marie asked.
“I’ll come by later if that’s okay.”
“Of course. I want you to meet my friends.”
Catching her off guard, Laura awkwardly hugged Anne Marie. “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“My name is Ellen Roche,” Ellen announced to a guard who strolled past.
“That’s a nice name,” the uniformed man told her.
