A Turn in the Road (Blossom Street #8)(4)

“It helps that she’s so close to my mother…. My biggest fear is what’ll happen once Mom is gone,” Lydia said, her voice subdued.

“Is your mother doing okay?”

Lydia rubbed her eyes. “Not really.” She gave a small, hopeless shrug. “She’s declining, and that’s so hard to watch. You know, she sometimes forgets who I am but she always remembers Casey. I think it’s one of those small miracles. It makes Casey feel important and loved, which she is. Everyone at the assisted-living complex adores Casey. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hired her once she’s old enough to have a job. Her patience with Mom and Mom’s friends is amazing. She loves hearing their stories.”

Bethanne nodded sympathetically.

“No one seems to have enough time for the elderly anymore….” Lydia shook her head. “I’m guilty of rushing visits myself, but not Casey. She sits and listens for hours and never seems to get impatient, even when Mom repeats the same story over and over again.”

“And Margaret?” Bethanne noticed that Lydia’s older sister, who often worked with her, wasn’t in the store.

“She took the day off. Wednesdays are slow, and she had a dentist’s appointment at eleven. I told her to enjoy the afternoon.”

Margaret was a store fixture and so different from Lydia that new customers often didn’t realize they were sisters. Margaret was good-hearted but tended to be gruff and opinionated, and took a bit of getting used to. “How’s business going?” she ventured, aware that she was the only person in the store at the moment.

“Surprisingly well.” Lydia cheered visibly. “People turn to domestic pursuits during recessions, and lots of people want to knit these days.”

“Have you talked to Anne Marie and Ellen since they moved?”

Lydia returned to arranging the yarn display. “Practically every day. Ellen didn’t want to leave Blossom Street but I see her as much as ever. She has plenty of friends in her new neighborhood and has definitely made the adjustment.”

“I’m so happy for her.” A young widow, Anne Marie had adopted the girl after volunteering at a local grade school. Although Lydia had never said so, Bethanne knew that Ellen’s adoption had influenced her and Brad to make Casey part of their family.

“Do you have a few minutes for tea?” Lydia asked.

Bethanne checked her watch. “Sorry, no, I’m on my way to the office. I’m supposed to meet with Julia.”

“Soon, then.” Lydia waved as Bethanne opened the door.

“Soon,” Bethanne promised.

“Stop by if you have any trouble with that pattern,” she called over her shoulder.

“I will.”

As she unlocked her car, Bethanne looked over at the French Café and was startled to see her ex-mother-in-law, Ruth Hamlin, sitting at an outside table eating her lunch.

Despite the divorce, Bethanne had a warm relationship with Ruth. For her children’s sake she’d kept in touch with Grant’s mother and his younger sister, Robin. But as Lydia had so recently reminded her, no one had enough time for older people anymore. Bethanne felt guilty as charged. She rarely saw Ruth these days, and it had been several weeks since they’d talked.

Ruth had been horrified by Grant’s decision to walk away from his family. She hadn’t been shy about letting her son know her feelings, either. She’d always been generous and supportive to Bethanne, making her feel like a beloved daughter in every way. Ruth had stood at Bethanne’s side through the divorce proceedings, convinced that Grant would one day realize his mistake.

Bethanne rushed impulsively across the street. She really didn’t have time and the ever-punctual Julia would be waiting. As it was, Bethanne had spent far longer with Lydia than she’d intended. In addition, she had a tight afternoon schedule that included a meeting with her managers. But Bethanne was determined to make time for the woman who’d once been such an enormous encouragement to her.

“Ruth?”

Her mother-in-law looked up from her soup and sandwich plate and instantly broke into a smile. “Bethanne, my goodness, I never expected to see you here.”

The two women hugged. “I was picking up some yarn I ordered. What are you doing in this neighborhood?” Bethanne pulled out the chair opposite Ruth’s and sat down.

Her mother-in-law placed both hands in her lap. “Robin suggested we meet here for lunch. It’s not that far from the courthouse, but you know Robin…”

“Has she left already?” Bethanne looked around, then down at Ruth’s barely touched plate.

“She didn’t show up,” Ruth said, coloring slightly. “I’m sure she got stuck in court….” Robin was with the Prosecuting Attorney’s office in Seattle, and frequently dealt with violent crime.

Bethanne frowned. “Did you call her?”

Ruth shook her head. “I refuse to carry a cell phone. They’re an intrusion on people’s privacy and—well, never mind. Although I will admit that at times like this a cell would come in handy.”

“Would you like me to phone?”

“Oh, would you, dear?” Ruth squeezed her hand gratefully. “I’d appreciate it.”

Digging in her purse, Bethanne found her cell. She had Robin’s number in her contacts and, holding the phone to her ear, waited for the call to connect. Robin’s phone went directly to voice mail, which meant she was probably still in court.