Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(38)
“It’s not like it’s that much different from Seattle,” Cody said, sounding like a well-traveled man of the world. “It’s just more of the same.”
“But in Oregon and California while we’re on a family vacation we won’t have to eat at home or wash dishes afterward.”
“Is my cooking so bad?” Lydia asked, finding her children’s conversation less than amusing.
“We’re here,” Brad said, and pulled into an empty parking space. He was fortunate to find one. The fast-food restaurant was busy.
Bracing his arm along the back of the car seat, Brad turned to face their children. “You kids stay here while Lydia checks out the knitting basket.” He pointedly glanced at his wrist, reminding her that the first pitch was less than a half hour away.
“I won’t take long,” Lydia promised as she rushed inside.
It took her only a few minutes to find the knitting basket. To her surprise, a woman close to her own age sat in a booth in the corner of the restaurant, knitting on the scarf.
“Did you find that here?” Lydia asked.
The woman glanced up and blinked. “Oh, my goodness, did I misunderstand? This is yours? You must think me incredibly rude to pick up your project and start knitting.”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. I’ve been hearing about these baskets, and my son said he saw one here. He said the yarn comes from my store on Blossom Street.”
“I found this by the window,” the other woman explained. “I assumed it was holding the table, but no one came, so I checked it out,” she explained, setting down the needles. “I wandered around, looking for a place to sit, but there weren’t any vacant tables except this one. No one seemed to be coming, so I thought whoever was here last must have inadvertently left their knitting behind.”
“That’s a natural assumption.” That made perfect sense to Lydia.
“But when I looked inside, I found an index card that said KNIT ME.” She reached for the basket and dug through it and showed the card to Lydia.
Sure enough, what she’d said was true. “Was there a small tablet inside as well?”
“No, but I didn’t do a thorough search. Here,” she said, and scooted the basket toward Lydia.
“Excuse me.” They were approached by a third woman, carting a tray with her order on it.
Both Lydia and the knitter looked up.
“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation,” she said. “I write a human-interest column for the Seattle Times newspaper. Would it be all right if I asked you a few questions?”
Chapter Fifteen
Max looked at his text message from Rooster and couldn’t stop grinning. “It looks like love is in the air.”
“Oh?” Bethanne stepped into the bedroom fresh from her shower. She wore a silk robe and had a thick towel wrapped around her head.
For a moment, Max couldn’t take his eyes off her. “I got a message here from Rooster. He’s staying in Seattle until Memorial Day. It seems he wants to take Lauren to the Mariners game later this afternoon.”
“And will you extend your visit, too?” Her hands remained on top of her head as she studied him, her eyes wide and hopeful.
This was the biggest problem they faced nearly every week. It was killing him to leave Bethanne and return to his home or to watch her return to Seattle. They belonged together. “I’m no more eager to leave you than Rooster is to leave Lauren.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” she murmured, holding his gaze. “Is there a reason you need to get back to California? Monday’s a holiday.”
Rooster had made the decision a simple one. Any way he could spend extra time with Bethanne was worth whatever sacrifice it took. Staying meant he’d be riding back in the same frenzy with which he’d arrived, but he’d gladly do it, although he wouldn’t mention his plans to Bethanne. “I can’t think of a single thing on my schedule that’s more important than being with you.”
Bethanne’s shoulders sagged with relief, and at the same time a smile lit up her face. “Oh, Max, I can’t tell you how much I was dreading watching you go.”
Not any more than he dreaded returning. This trip had been good for him and Bethanne. He hadn’t known what to expect at this family gathering, celebrating Andrew and Courtney’s baby news. Max was prepared to let Grant play the role of Lord Bountiful, and while it had been hard on his ego, he’d let it pass.
Grant chose to sit at the head of the table, raise a toast of champagne to his son, and pay for the dinner at a high-end restaurant. This was Grant’s son, and he had a right to be excited and happy. In Max’s opinion, Grant had overdone it, but Max let Grant’s power play pass without a comment. Bethanne hadn’t said anything, but he knew she hadn’t been taken in by her ex’s display.
Even Andrew had appeared uncomfortable when Grant slapped him across the back and pretended they were the best of buddies. Max knew otherwise, and so did Bethanne.
Annie, however, had eaten it up. She was much closer to her father than Andrew was. The relationship between father and son had been strained ever since Grant left the family. Max was able to ignore Annie’s dirty looks that suggested his presence wasn’t appreciated. According to his stepdaughter, he was an interloper. Max made it through the evening because he had what was important, and that was Bethanne as his wife. It was early days yet, and he expected that with time Annie would come to accept him; patience was the key.