Anne Marie went upstairs to her apartment. Baxter, who was asleep in his small bed, didn’t so much as stir. Apparently the excursion to the school had tired him out. “Some watchdog you are, Mr. Baxter,” she muttered.

Her plan for the afternoon was to work on her list of wishes. Since her dinner with Melissa, Anne Marie hadn’t really given it much thought.

1. Buy red cowboy boots

2. Learn to knit

3. Volunteer—become a Lunch Buddy

4. Take French lessons

Then, because it seemed so unlikely and yet necessary, she added the first wish, the one she’d crossed out earlier.

5. Find one good thing about life

She took out the binder she’d purchased and assembled the scrapbooking supplies and the few pictures she’d already cut out. Red cowboy boots from a catalog. A hand-knit sweater from a magazine. A photo of the Eiffel Tower. She’d need to get a picture of Ellen and…Suddenly it seemed pointless to go on, in light of what she’d discovered about Robert and her own pitiful life.

Rather than allow herself to sink into further depression, she reached for her phone and called Lillie. They arranged to meet for dinner at a Thai place they both liked.

That evening Lillie arrived at the restaurant before Anne Marie did and had already secured a table. “I’m so glad you phoned,” Lillie said, kissing her cheek. “I’ve got lots to tell you.”

“I can’t wait to hear.”

“It’s that list.”

“The Twenty Wishes?” Earlier, just reading her list had depressed her. She’d been convinced she’d never feel like dreaming again, not when she’d obviously been so wrong about her entire life.

“That list’s given me a whole new burst of energy,” Lillie said. “I’ve told my friends about it and now they’re all writing their own lists.”

“Really?”

“Lists are big these days. Who would’ve believed it?” Lillie’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “I’ve been adding to mine nearly every day, thinking about all the things I want to do. Things I haven’t considered in years. It all started when I bought that red convertible.”

“Speaking of which…”

Lillie waved the question aside even before Anne Marie could ask it. “Just a minor glitch and that nice man from the service department is taking care of everything.”

“You mean to say you’re still driving a loaner?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. Everything’s under control and I haven’t been inconvenienced in the least.”

“You shouldn’t be inconvenienced. You bought their car!”

Lillie studied her menu. “I’m starved. How about you?”

Anne Marie needed to think about it, then realized she actually was hungry. “I am, too.”

“Great. The way I feel right now, I’m tempted to order everything on the menu. Let’s begin with the assorted appetizers, and then a green mango salad….”

“And pad thai. I love their pad thai,” Anne Marie said, entering into the spirit of the evening.

Between the perfectly spiced food and Lillie’s invigorating company, dinner was a welcome reprieve from the low-grade depression that had been hanging over Anne Marie. Back in her apartment a few hours later, she came across the binder and the scrapbooking supplies spread out on the kitchen table.

She sat down again and read over her list. Maybe her wishes weren’t so impossible, after all.

Chapter 8

Lillie Higgins paid extra-close attention to her makeup Friday morning, chastising herself as she did. Anyone who even suspected that she was preening and primping for the service department manager at a car dealership would be aghast.

Lillie had nothing to say in her defense. She just found Hector Silva appealing; he was kind and generous and unfailingly polite. He seemed so natural, while the men who usually set out to charm her came across as self-conscious, trying too hard to impress. Not Hector Silva. His work ethic, his dignity and decency…She couldn’t praise him enough.

They’d exchanged two brief conversations, and after each one Lillie had walked away feeling good. More than good, elated. She liked him—it was that simple—and she enjoyed talking to him. Both times she’d wished the conversations could’ve been longer.

Now that her car was repaired to Hector’s satisfaction, she didn’t have an excuse to chat with him anymore. So she’d decided to make the most of today’s encounter, which would likely be their last.

Lillie arrived at the dealership with the loaner at the precise time Hector had indicated. She wore a pink linen pantsuit with a silk floral scarf tied around her head. She’d struggled with that, not wanting to look like a babushka or some latter-day hippie, and she’d finally managed to arrange it in an attractive style. Desiree, the temperamental French hairdresser she and Jacqueline Donovan shared, had insisted that if Lillie was determined to drive a convertible, she take measures to protect her hair.

When Lillie pulled into the parking space outside the service area, Hector immediately stepped outside as if he’d been standing by the door, waiting for her.

“Good morning, Ms. Higgins,” he said with the slightest bow.

“Good morning, Mr. Silva.”

“Please call me Hector.”

“Only if you’ll call me Lillie. After everything we’ve been through with this car, I believe we’ve become friends, don’t you? And friends call each other by their first names.” Referring to him as a friend might be presumptuous, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

He grinned, and his dark eyes glinted with pleasure. “I feel the same way.” After the briefest of hesitations, he added, “Lillie.” She loved how he said her name, placing equal emphasis on each syllable. She’d never heard anyone draw it out like that. He made it sound…sensuous. Completely unlike the blunt “Lil” her husband used to call her.

“Your vehicle is ready.” He gestured toward the red convertible parked near the service area.

“Did you ever find out what the problem was?” she asked, although in truth she didn’t really care.

“As far as I can tell, the hydraulic hose had an air bubble in it. I worked on it myself and I had my best mechanic check it, too. He assures me the problem has been fixed. You shouldn’t have any steering troubles from now on.”

“Then I’m sure I won’t.” Instinctively, she felt certain that Hector’s pledge was the only guarantee she needed.

“I’ve taken it out for a test drive and in my estimation it runs beautifully. However, if you’d like, the two of us could go for a short ride.”

Lillie knew this was above and beyond anything that was necessary. Nevertheless she nearly squeaked with joyful anticipation. Oh, she was behaving badly, wasn’t she? And she intended to go on doing it.

“I’d appreciate that very much,” she told him earnestly. “But only if it won’t keep you from your duties.”

“You are our customer, Lillie, and it is the goal of the dealership to exceed your expectations.”

“Oh.” His dedication to duty dispelled the notion that he was doing this for her and her alone. In fact, he seemed to be quoting from a policy manual. That gave her pause. Perhaps what she felt toward him was imaginary, something she’d dreamed up—but she knew it wasn’t. The real question was whether Hector reciprocated her feelings.

Hector held open the driver’s door for her.

Lillie slipped behind the wheel as he walked around the vehicle and joined her in the passenger seat. “You’re sure you have time for this?” she asked again.

“Yes, Lillie, I’m very sure.” He encouraged her with a smile.

She turned the key and the engine instantly surged to life. “Is there any specific place you’d like me to drive?” she asked, hoping he’d suggest a route.

“Green River in the Kent Valley should be a good test.”

That was where the vehicle had broken down the first time. It was also twenty minutes away. This was more than a short test drive, she thought excitedly. More than business.

Still, they didn’t exchange a single word as she drove down the freeway. It wasn’t until they neared the river that Hector spoke.

“The car is in perfect running condition,” he told her in a solemn tone.

“You can tell just by the sound?”

“Oh, yes. My wife, when she was alive, used to tease me. She said I could read cars better than I could people, and she was right.”

“You’re a widower?” Lillie had noticed that Hector wasn’t wearing a wedding band, but she’d assumed it was because of his work.

“Yes, almost ten years now.”

“I’m sorry.” Lillie knew the pain of losing a life partner, even when the marriage wasn’t ideal.

“Angelina was a good woman and a good wife,” Hector said. “And a devoted mother. We have three beautiful children.”

“My husband died in a plane crash three years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Lillie focused her attention on the road, although their conversation was of far greater interest. She might be seeing more here than was warranted but she sensed that Hector wanted her to know he was a widower. She wanted him to realize she was unattached, too.

“How old are your children?” she asked, not reacting to his sympathy, which made her a little uncomfortable. David had been an excellent provider and an adequate husband, but he’d had his weakness. Unfortunately that weakness involved other women.

For years Lillie had turned a blind eye to David’s wanderings. It was easier to pretend than to confront the ugly truth of her husband’s infidelities. During the last ten years of their marriage, there had been no real intimacy between them. Lillie had swallowed her pride and pretended not to know about her husband’s affairs—as long as he remained discreet.

“My children are all grown now,” Hector said. “They have graduated from college and taken advanced training in the fields of their choice. Manuel is an attorney. Luis is a physician and my daughter, Rita, is a teacher.” His pride in his family was evident.

“My goodness, all three of your children are accomplished professionals.”

“Their mother and I believed in higher education.” Hector looked at her as she slowed the car’s speed to take a sharp curve. “You have children?”

“A daughter. Her husband was with mine in the plane crash.”

“He died, as well?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Hector’s eyes grew dark with compassion. “In one day your daughter lost both her husband and her father.”

“Yes.” It had been a horrific day and not one Lillie wanted to think about. David and Gary had been flying home from a business trip. The pilot and co-pilot had died, too.

The FAA had investigated, and after a thorough exploration of the facts had determined the cause of the accident—sudden, catastrophic engine failure. But that knowledge didn’t take away the shock and the grief.