Back on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #4)
Page 48“Have you hired someone?” Matt asked, raising his voice, something I was sure he rarely did.
“No.”
“Tell me the truth.”
“I haven’t,” Margaret snapped. “Alix wouldn’t help and I didn’t know anyone else to ask.”
“Did you plan to stop there?” Matt pressed.
Her brief hesitation was followed by a muff led response. It sounded like “no.”
This didn’t surprise me. When Margaret wants something done, she finds a way to make it happen.
Shocking us all, Julia stepped out of the hallway. “Mom! What have you done?”
I’d hardly seen Julia since the attack and noticed the changes in her right away. She’d lost weight and cut her long blond hair. While the physical injuries had healed, I knew she still struggled with the emotional damage.
Margaret responded defensively, a typical reaction when she was caught. “Were you eavesdropping?”
“Yes.” Julia didn’t bother to deny it. “I couldn’t help it. I heard Aunt Lydia and Brad stop by and I was coming to say hello when I heard what you’d done.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” Margaret said resolutely.
Julia almost laughed. “How can you say that? I’m the one who was attacked. I’m the one who was dragged out of that car and thrown down on the road.” She paused to glare at her parents. “I watched cars all around me slam on their brakes. They were trying to avoid running over me. That’s what I dream about, being unable to move, paralyzed with fear on the street. The cars are all racing toward me, and they can’t stop in time.”
“Oh, baby.” Matt stood and put his arms around his daughter.
Julia stifled a sob. “Mom, I can’t deal with your anger anymore,” she cried. “It wasn’t you who went through this. It was me.”
“I can’t stand to see you hurt,” Margaret said, pleading her case. “I hate the man who did this to you.”
“You hate him enough to destroy all our lives?” Julia spun away from her father, hands tightened into fists at her sides. “Your anger isn’t helping me, Mom. Don’t you see that? It’s hurting me. Each and every day I have to deal with my own pain and yours and Dad’s, too. It can’t go on…it can’t.” She covered her face with both hands and broke into heart-wrenching sobs.
Unable to bear seeing my niece weep like that, I joined her parents, putting my arms around the three of them. When we finally broke apart, Julia sat on the ottoman next to her mother. She reached for Margaret’s hand and clasped it in her own.
“I made a mistake,” Margaret admitted in a voice that was barely audible.
“No,” Julia said and shook her head dramatically. “I’m glad you did this, Mom, because it’s brought everything to a head. That’s what had to happen and so far it just hasn’t. Everyone’s so afraid of talking about the…accident and I need that. You and Dad need it, too. We all do,” she said, looking toward the hallway.
Hailey came out from the shadows, her sweet face streaked with tears. Slowly she walked into the room and sat on the sofa with Brad and me. I drew her close and she leaned against me.
“Everyone’s so angry,” Julia continued. “We all pretend there’s nothing wrong, but there is. We can’t go on ignoring the fact that I was attacked. I could easily have been killed—but I wasn’t.”
“I thank God you survived,” Margaret whispered.
Matt nodded.
“Afterward I didn’t feel like I wanted to live, and you and Dad got me help. The counselor and I talked a lot. I learned that the feelings I had aren’t uncommon. The counselor said lots of victims feel like I did.” She took a deep breath. “I’m getting better now, and I’ve learned so much. I want everyone to know that.”
Tears spilled down Margaret’s cheeks.
“Mom,” Julia said, looking up at her mother. “I was angry, too, so angry I actually wanted to die. I hated Danny Chesterfield the same way you do, but I’ve seen what that anger’s done to you. I’ve seen what it’s done to me.”
Margaret nodded, wiping her face with one sleeve.
“Anger takes too much energy, too much effort,” Julia said.
I wondered when my niece had got so smart and realized this wisdom was a by-product of her pain.
“After I was released from the hospital, I was obsessed with hurting him back. Thinking of ways to make him suffer was how I got through those first few weeks. I’d go to sleep at night and dream about throwing him into moving traffic and watching him scramble for his life like I did. I’d dream about standing there, watching him cry for help and then walking away and listening to his screams when he was hit by a car.”
My sister bowed her head and instinctively I recognized that her daughter’s words had struck a deep chord in Margaret.
“Then one day I was with some friends,” Julia said, her voice dropping. “They asked me to do Relay for Life.”
She smiled at me and I nodded, remembering the wonderful time we’d had together.
“My friends were raising money to save lives,” Julia went on, “and while they were making a positive difference, I was plotting, dreaming, thinking about vengeance.” She lowered her eyes as though ashamed. “I understood then that I didn’t like the person I was becoming.”
“Mom.” Julia brought her mother’s hand close to her own heart. “I probably won’t ever be the same person I was before the carjacking and in some ways, that’s good. But the one I’m worried about now is you.”
Margaret lowered her head, unable to look her daughter in the eye.
“I need you to let go of your anger because I’m afraid I might never completely heal if you don’t. Can you do that, Mom? Can you do it for me?”
Slowly Margaret raised her head. “I can try,” she whispered.
“That’s all I ask,” Julia said.
Mom and daughter hugged.
Hailey excused herself and briefly left the room, returning with a box of tissues, which we all needed. Soon we were laughing and crying at the same time. That’s how it is sometimes. The laughter can be as healing as tears.
Brad and I went home soon afterward and Margaret walked us to the door.
“Thank you,” she whispered. It came as a surprise when she hugged me. Before she stepped back, she said close to my ear, “I’m going to be all right now.”
I knew it was true. We all would.
CHAPTER 36
Alix Townsend
The morning of June second, Alix woke up and remembered that this was her wedding day. She felt a sense of profound joy—but it was a joy mingled with sheer terror. Standing up in front of all those people, even though there’d be far fewer than the number originally invited, terrified her. But despite her fears, she wanted to do this, more than anything in her life. She loved Jordan and knew he loved her, but she wasn’t unrealistic about marriage; love didn’t mean there wouldn’t be conflicts and problems. The difference was that if you loved each other, the way she and Jordan did, you could resolve those conflicts and find solutions to the problems.
Alix was too nervous and excited to have breakfast. At nine, Tammie Lee drove her to Grandma Turner’s house, which was already stirring with activity.
Reese and Jacqueline had canceled the orchestra they’d hired for the country club reception; with Alix and Jordan’s permission, they’d arranged for a five-piece band instead. The sound system people were getting everything set up.
The tent was raised, and the folding chairs stood inside in neat rows. Jacqueline had insisted on white wooden chairs with padded seats at a cost Alix didn’t even want to think about. The caterers had arrived and were preparing the food. The French Café had delivered the wedding cake, a traditional cake Alix had baked and decorated herself. As a surprise for Jacqueline, she’d used a sweetened cream cheese frosting.
Susannah and Colette were there, too, working on the flower arrangements. They were filling large baskets with white roses, yellow daisies and sprigs of fern. Smaller bouquets of the same flowers were attached at the end of every row. The effect was simple, springlike and elegant.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Colette assured her, hugging her back.
“Christian?” Alix whispered.
Colette shook her head. “Nothing new.” She looked tired but seemed to have found some measure of peace.
“I’m so glad you came,” Alix said. “It means a lot to me.”
Colette smiled at her. “Oh, Alix, you’re going to be a beautiful bride.”
“I’m about to be married.” Alix giggled with happiness and headed toward the house, where Jacqueline and Reese were waiting for her. Family drifted in and out; someone had brought a large coffee urn and Jordan’s relatives came in to help themselves to cups of coffee. Someone mentioned that Grandma Turner had decided to rest for a while. Alix didn’t want to disturb her.
“The hairdresser’s here,” Jacqueline announced, ushering Alix into the house.
Alix glanced at her warily.
“Don’t worry.” Jacqueline must have read the look in her eyes. “It’s not Desiree.” Early in their friendship, Jacqueline had taken her to an expensive hairstylist named Desiree; this was the famous makeover disaster they still laughed about. “Desiree said I couldn’t pay her enough to work on your hair again.”
Alix grinned. Desiree wouldn’t want to hear what she thought of her, either. “Just as long as I have final approval.” She wasn’t about to go through her wedding looking like one of the boys from that 1970s TV series, The Brady Bunch.
Jacqueline nodded and led her to the bathroom. In short order her hair was washed and blow-dried, curled and sprayed. Alix stared at her ref lection and decided she rather liked this more mature version of herself.
“Is Grandma Turner still resting?” she asked. Any number of people had been in and out of the house all morning.
No one seemed to know. Her bedroom door remained shut. Alix had brought over her wedding dress earlier in the week and Grandma had insisted on hanging it on the back of her door.
Still in her housecoat and slippers, Alix approached the bedroom. Her knock went unanswered. If Grandma Turner was sleeping, it was time to wake her. The photographer would be there soon and Alix wanted Grandma in the pictures.