A Mother's Wish

Read A Mother's Wish for Free Online

Book: Read A Mother's Wish for Free Online
Authors: Debbie Macomber
Meg had chosen to wear them today.
    Laura stuck her head through the door and smiled when she saw her. “A beautiful bouquet of flowers just arrived for you,” she said.
    “For me?”
    “That’s what the envelope said.”
    “Who from?”
    “I didn’t read the card, if that’s what you’re asking, butLindsey’s here and she grabbed it and let out a holler. My guess is the flowers are from Steve.”
    “Steve.” Pain or no pain, Meg was on her feet. She hobbled to the front of the store and found her fifteen-year-old daughter grinning triumphantly.
    “Steve Conlan sent flowers,” she crowed.
    “So I see.” Meg’s fingers shook as she removed the card from the small envelope.
    “He said, and I quote, ‘You’re one special woman, Meg Remington. Love, Steve.’”
    The bouquet was huge, with at least ten different varieties of flowers all arranged in a white wicker basket. It must have cost him easily a hundred dollars.
    “We agreed,” she whispered.
    “Agreed to what?” Lindsey prodded.
    “That we weren’t going to see each other again.”
    “Obviously he changed his mind,” Lindsey said, as excited as if she’d just discovered a twenty-dollar bill in the bottom of her purse.
    Unwilling to trust her daughter’s assessment of the situation, Meg stared at her best friend.
    “Don’t look at me,” Laura said.
    “I’m sure you’re wrong,” Meg said to Lindsey, her heart still beating a little too fast.
    “Why else would he send flowers?” Lindsey asked calmly.
    “He wanted to say he was glad we met, that’s all. I don’tthink we should make something out of this,” she said. “It’s just … a courtesy.”
    “Call him,” Lindsey pleaded.
    “I most certainly will not!”
    “But, Mom, don’t you see? Steve’s saying he likes you, but he doesn’t want to pressure you into anything unless you like him, too.”
    “He is?” Whatever confidence she’d felt a moment earlier vanished like ice cream at a Fourth of July picnic.
    “The next move is yours.”
    “Laura?”
    “I wouldn’t know,” her fickle friend said. “I’ve been married to the same man for twenty-six years. All this intrigue is beyond me.”
    “I agree with your daughter,” a shy voice said from the other side of the counter. “You should call him.”
    It was Meg’s customer, Judith Wilson. Meg wasn’t sure she should listen to the older woman who faithfully purchased romance novels twice a month. Judith was a real romantic and would undoubtedly read more into the gesture than Steve had intended.
    “See?” Lindsey said excitedly. “The ball’s in your court. Steve made his move and now he’s waiting for yours.”
    Meg didn’t know what to do.
    “It’s been three days,” Lindsey reminded her. “He’s had time to think over the situation, and so have you.”
    “Call him,” Laura suggested. “If for nothing more than to thank him for the flowers.”
    “Yes, call him,” Judith echoed, clutching her bag of books.
    “It’s the least you can do.” Once more it was her daughter offering advice.
    “All right,” Meg said reluctantly. The flowers were gorgeous, and thanking him would be the proper thing to do.
    “I’ll get his work number for you,” Lindsey volunteered, pulling the Yellow Pages from behind the cash register.
    The kid had Steve’s shop number faster than directory assistance could have located it.
    “I’ll use the phone in the back room,” Meg said. She didn’t need several pairs of ears listening in on her conversation.
    She felt everyone’s eyes on her as she hurried into the storeroom. Her hand actually shook as she punched out the telephone number.
    “Emerald City,” a gruff male voice answered.
    “Hello, this is Meg Remington calling for Steve Conlan.”
    “Hold on a minute.”
    “Of course.”
    A moment later, Steve was on the line. “Meg?”
    “Hello, Steve. I know you’re busy, so I won’t take upmuch of your time. I’m calling to thank you for the

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