didn’t seem to hear her. “In addition to that, there’s no guarantee we’d find another apartment as reasonable as this one.”
“Can’t we trust the Lord to look after the details?” she asked. “Doesn’t it feel as if this is meant to be?”
“Alix, do you know how much work is involved in moving?”
He had to be joking! She’d moved almost every six months her entire life. Her parents could never manage to pay the rent and still afford booze. Eviction never seemed to faze them; there were always other houses, other neighborhoods.
Later, as a foster child, Alix had never lasted long with any family. By sixteen she was essentially on her own.
“Jordan,” she said, reaching out to take his hand. “I do know all the work involved in moving.”
He frowned. “I can’t believe you’re serious about this.”
“But I am! I think it’s a great opportunity.”
He squeezed her fingers. “I know you loved Grandma Turner and she loved you, but I didn’t believe you’d actually be willing to move into her house. I mean, because of the distance and the fact that we’d have no guarantees…”
“What…what about rent?” Their budget was tight because they’d been saving every extra penny for a down payment on a house. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be Sarah Turner’s house with its extensive property. She’d seen the asking price and it was way beyond what they’d be able to afford.
Jordan shrugged. “The one advantage is that we’d be living rent-free.”
Alix threw her arms in the air. “That’s so generous! It’s perfect, Jordan! Just perfect. We’ll be able to save for our own house and when you get your raise, we can put that money aside, too.” Another advantage was Sarah’s furniture; much of it was still there. Whatever the family wanted had already been taken. The rest was left for whoever purchased the house.
“But you have to remember that utilities will be higher, and then there’s the cost of the commute.” He made these sound like monumental issues.
“I’ll take the bus,” Alix said happily. The house was on a bus route and she could always read or knit while traveling into the city, even if she had to leave extra-early in the morning. The afternoons wouldn’t be so bad. She actually looked forward to riding the bus.
“I’ll take public transportation, too, but there are certain days I’ll need the car and with the price of gas—”
“Weren’t you the one who just said we should leave the details to God?” she challenged.
“No, you did.”
Alix giggled. “Then I heard it from you first.”
“I never thought you’d go for this,” he said in a wondering tone.
“Jordan, we were married at the lake house. Aren’t you the romantic one in the family?”
“Yes, well…”
“There’s another benefit you’re forgetting,” she whispered seductively.
“What’s that?”
“We’ve been talking about me getting pregnant, right?”
“Right…when you’re ready.”
That was his subtle reminder that she had to quit smoking first.
“I should be soon. And Jordan, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we conceived our baby in a home that’s been in your family for generations?”
Jordan’s gaze held hers. “That does sound like a wonderful idea….”
Alix grinned. “I knew you’d think so.”
CHAPTER
5
Anne Marie Roche
Anne Marie and Ellen Roche hauled their suitcases up the stairs to the small apartment above Blossom Street Books. The flight from Paris had landed them back in Seattle midafternoon but it felt like the middle of the night to Anne Marie.
Nine-year-old Ellen had slept for most of the flight, but not Anne Marie. Instead, she’d cradled her daughter with one arm and reveled in each and every precious memory of their two-week vacation.
Even after nearly eight months it seemed unbelievable that she was now legally Ellen’s mother. A few words in front of a judge had made it so. In truth, the judge’s proclamation had been a mere formality. Anne Marie had become Ellen’s mother in her mind, in her heart, long before anything was official.
Almost a year and a half earlier, on Valentine’s Day, Anne Marie, together with three other widows, had made a list of twenty wishes. One of her wishes was to travel to Paris with someone she loved. That someone had turned out to be Ellen. A number of her wishes had come to pass, and some, like the Paris trip, had taken place in unexpected ways.
“Can we get Baxter now?” Ellen asked, racing out of her small bedroom, where she’d deposited her suitcase.
“In a little while.”
Anne Marie missed her Yorkie, too. Her friend Elise Beaumont—one of the group of Valentine widows—had looked after Baxter these past two weeks. Anne Marie had predicted that by the time they got back, Elise would recognize the benefits of canine companionship.
“I want to teach Baxter French,” Ellen said.
The girl had picked up phrases with surprising ease and was determined not to forget a single word.
“J’aime la France,” Ellen said.
“Moi, aussi.” Anne Marie remembered that much French, despite her exhaustion.
“S’il vous plaît, donne moi quelques bon-bons?” Ellen asked next.
“No, you can’t have any candy!”
“Ah, Mom…”
Anne Marie returned to her unpacking. “Let me put in a load of wash and then we’ll go get Baxter.”
Ellen went back to her bedroom and finished unpacking her own suitcase. Then she stored it beneath her bed, which was littered with souvenirs she’d purchased in Paris for herself and special friends.
Anne Marie was touched by the girl’s generosity. Ellen had spent all the money she’d saved from her allowance on trinkets for her school friends as well as Melissa, Anne Marie’s stepdaughter, and her baby boy.
After dumping a load of clothes in the washer and setting the dial, Anne Marie
