Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(14)

“Yes, but what about—”

“Mom, please, it’s important. Grandma always makes me feel better.”

“Grandmothers have a way of doing that,” Bethanne chimed in.

Casey looked at the other woman. “Oh, Bethanne, Mom told me Courtney’s having a baby. This is so cool. Are you knitting the baby blanket for her?”

Bethanne said that she was. “Tell me what it is your grandmother does that makes you feel better so that when Andrew and Courtney’s child needs me to help him or her, then I’ll know what to say.”

“Okay.” Eager to explain, Casey pulled out a chair and slumped forward, leaning against the table, elbows on top. “First of all, Grandma calls it grousing instead of complaining. When I asked her what the word meant, she had me look it up in the dictionary.”

“She probably needed a reminder herself,” Lydia supplied. “Mom has memory issues.”

“I like the word grouse,” Casey said, “and now all my friends say it, too.”

“So what does she do so you don’t grouse?” Bethanne asked.

Lauren was curious, too. It seemed the teenager and her grandmother shared a special relationship.

“It’s sort of a takeoff on the Glad game,” Casey explained, “you know, from the book Pollyanna?”

“Right,” Bethanne said.

“At first I thought it would be stupid, but Grandma says it works every time.”

“What’s the game?” Lydia asked.

“Well, when I start grousing, she insists there must have been something good that happened that day.”

“And is she right?” Lauren asked.

“Almost always I insist there isn’t anything, but then Grandma starts asking me questions, and before I know it I can hardly remember the bad stuff because I’ve got so many good things to remember.”

“Was there something positive that happened today?” Lydia asked.

Casey shrugged. “I suppose. One thing. I had macaroni and cheese for lunch. It’s one of my favorites.”

“I packed you a lunch this morning,” Lydia reminded her.

“I traded it with Charlie for his macaroni and cheese.” She paused and frowned.

“What?” Lydia asked, apparently reading her daughter.

“He said mac and cheese was his favorite, too, so it makes no sense that he would trade with me. And he sat with me at second lunch. He’s never done that before.”

“Do you think he might have wanted to ask if you’d go to the dance with him?” Lydia asked, and cocked her head to one side with the question.

“He didn’t.”

“Was it because you complained about Jack and Hadley the entire time you were with him?”

Again Casey shrugged and an absent look came over her as she appeared to be mentally reviewing her lunchtime conversation with Charlie. “Well, maybe. Come to think of it, he did ask me if I’d be at the dance tomorrow night.”

“Maybe it wasn’t such a horrible, awful day after all,” Lydia suggested.

“I still want to visit Grandma. Can I?”

“Okay. I’ll drop you off after I close the shop, and then your father can come get you when he picks up your brother from softball practice.”

“Great.” Casey appeared to be in better spirits already. She left the table, but Lauren saw that Lydia looked worried. Bethanne noticed it, too.

“Something wrong with your mother?” Bethanne asked.

“Casey and my mother are close. We adopted Casey when she was twelve,” Lydia explained, apparently for Lauren’s benefit.

“Twelve?”

“She’s only been with us three years. Until she came into our lives she was in the foster-care program. She never knew her grandparents, and she’s gotten to be tight with my mother. Mom often repeats things three and four times, but while Margaret and I grow impatient, it never seems to bother Casey. She listens to Mom’s stories as if they are new every time. The funny part is, Mom will sometimes confuse me with my sister. She’ll call me Margaret, but she’s never once forgotten who Casey is.”

“Mom,” Casey called from the far side of the store. “Can I bring Grandma some yarn?”

“No,” Lydia replied right away. “My mother already has more yarn than she knows what to do with.”

“Are you sure?” Casey pleaded. “This fancy stuff is so pretty, and I know Grandma would love it.”

“Not today, honey.”

“Okay.” The lone word was heavy with disappointment. “Saturday?” she asked again, more hopeful this time.

“I’ll think about it.”

Reluctantly, Casey returned the skein to the shelf. “That means no.”

Lauren smiled, and remembered that her own teenage interactions with her mother were much the same.

Lydia continued explaining her concerns, her voice low so only the two of them could hear: “I’m worried how Casey will react when my mother dies.”

“Is it imminent?” Bethanne asked, her eyes sympathetic.

Lydia shrugged. “Truth is, I’m surprised Mom has hung on as long as she has. We moved her into the assisted-living complex a few years back. The move was hard on her. Mom didn’t want to leave the house, and I was sure we would lose her then. But I was wrong. It seemed she got better after Casey came into our lives. Margaret tells me she believes it’s Casey who’s given Mom the will to live.”