Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(4)



“Oh, something fun,” Lillie said, “like traveling to Paris.”

Anne Marie felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck her. When they were first married, Robert had promised her that one day he’d take her to Paris. They talked about it frequently, discussing every aspect of their trip to the City of Light. The museums they’d visit, the places they’d walk, the meals they’d eat…

“I want to go to Paris with someone I love,” she whispered.

“I want to fall in love again,” Barbie said decisively. “Head over heels in love like I was before. A love that’ll change my life.”

They all grew quiet for a long moment, considering her words.

Anne Marie couldn’t believe Barbie would lack for male companionship. They’d never discussed the subject, but she was surprised that a woman as attractive as Barbie didn’t have her choice of men. Maybe she did. Maybe she simply had high standards. If so, Anne Marie couldn’t blame her.

“We all want to be loved,” Lillie said. “It’s a basic human need.”

“I had love,” Elise told them, her voice hoarse with pain. “I don’t expect to find that kind of love again.”

“I had it, too,” Barbie said.

Another hush fell over them.

“Making a list is a good idea,” Elise stated emphatically. “A list of things to do.”

Anne Marie nodded, fingering one of the suspended Valentine’s decorations as she did. The idea had caught her interest. She needed to revive her enthusiasm. She needed to find inspiration and motivation—and a list might just do that. She was a list-maker anyway, but this would be different. It wouldn’t be the usual catalog of appointments and everyday obligations.

“Personally I don’t need another to-do list,” Lillie murmured, echoing Anne Marie’s thought. “I have enough of those already.”

“This would n’t be like that,” Anne Marie responded, glancing at Elise for verification. “This would be a…an inventory of wishes,” she said, thinking out loud. She recognized that there were plenty of shoulds involved in widowhood; her friends were right about that. She did need to get her financial affairs in order and pay attention to her health.

“Twenty wishes,” she said suddenly.

“Why twenty?” Elise asked, leaning forward, her interest obvious.

“I’m not sure. It sounds right.” Anne Marie shrugged lightly. The number had leaped into her head, and she didn’t know quite why. Twenty. Twenty wishes that would help her recapture her excitement about life. Twenty dreams written down. Twenty possibilities that would give her a reason to look toward the future instead of staying mired in her grief. She couldn’t continue to drag from one day to the next, lost in pain and heartache because Robert was dead. She needed a new sense of purpose. She owed that to herself—and to him.

“Twenty wishes,” Barbie repeated slowly. “I think that works. Twenty’s a manageable number. Not like a hundred, say.”

“And it’s not too few—like two or three,” her mother said.

Anne Marie could tell that her friends were taking the idea seriously, which only strengthened her own certainty about it. “Wishes and hopes for the future.”

“Let’s do it!” Lillie proclaimed.

Barbie sat up straighter in her chair. “You should learn French,” she said, smiling at Anne Marie.

“French?”

“For when you’re in Paris.”

“I had two years of French in high school.” However, about all she remembered was how to conjugate the verbs être and avoir.

“Take a refresher course.” Barbie slid onto the edge of her cushion.

“Maybe I will.”

“I might learn how to belly dance,” Barbie said next.

The others looked at her with expressions of surprise; Anne Marie grinned in approval.

“Lillie mentioned this earlier, but I think it would do us all a world of good to be volunteers,” Elise said. “I’ve become a Lunch Buddy at my grandson’s school and I really look forward to my time with Malcolm.”

“Lunch Buddy? What’s that?”

“A program for children at risk,” Elise explained. “Once a week I visit the school and have lunch with a little boy in third grade. Malcolm is a sweet-natured child, and he’s flourished under my attention. The minute I walk into the school, he races toward me as if he’s been waiting for my visit all week.”

“So the two of you have lunch?”

“Well, yes, but he also likes to show me his schoolwork. He’s struggling with reading. However, he’s trying hard, and every once in a while he’ll read to me or I’ll read to him. I’ve introduced him to the Lemony Snicket books and he’s loving those.”

“You tutor him, then?”

“No, no, he has a reading tutor. It’s not that kind of program. I’m his friend. Or more like an extra grandmother.”

The idea appealed to Anne Marie, but she didn’t know if this was the right program for her. She’d consider it. Her day off was Wednesday and every other Saturday when Theresa came into the store. She had to admit that volunteering at an elementary school would give her something to do other than feel sorry for herself.

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