Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(49)

“Yeah,” Casey admitted.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Although this dream had happened several times already, Casey had yet to tell Lydia what it was about.

“Are dreams true?” Casey asked a few minutes later.

Lydia didn’t have an answer. Like the question about the phrase “getting out on the wrong side of the bed,” dreams weren’t something she’d given much thought to before. “I assume there must be different kinds of dreams. From what I’ve read, certain dreams have meanings.”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure. I remember as a kid I once dreamed about going to school, and when I got there I realized I’d forgotten to get dressed.”

For the first time that morning, Casey smiled.

“I must have been feeling vulnerable about something.”

“Did you have the dream again and again?” her daughter asked.

“No. Are you having the same dream over and over?” For just a second, Lydia took her eyes off the road.

Casey nodded.

“It’s terrifying, whatever it is.” Lydia had never seen Casey as emotionally shaken as when she had this nightmare. Whatever it was seemed to upset her feisty daughter unlike anything else.

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“Of course.”

“Can I visit Grandma this afternoon?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take the city bus,” Casey said, which meant she wouldn’t be stopping by the shop or the house first.

Lydia pulled into the circular driveway leading up to the front of the school. She had to wait in a long line of cars with other parents dropping off their tardy children. “Give me a call when you’re ready to have me pick you up from Grandma’s.”

“Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

“No problem. I know how much you enjoy visiting your grandmother; she loves it when you stop by.”

“I wasn’t talking about Grandma,” Casey told her. “I meant about not taking it personally when I was cranky this morning.”

“Oh?” Lydia still didn’t know what she’d done to warrant special appreciation.

“You gave me emotional space.”

Emotional space? Lydia couldn’t help but wonder where Casey had come up with that phrase. “You’re welcome. Have a good day.”

“I’ll try.”

When it was their turn in front of the school, Lydia stopped and Casey leaped out of the vehicle. Even before the car door closed, Lydia could hear a friend call out to Casey. Her daughter waved her arm, and soon the two girls raced toward the entrance just as the school bell rang.

When she arrived at A Good Yarn, Lydia came in through the back entrance, choosing to park in the alley. If customers saw her inside the shop, it would be hard to turn them away.

Whiskers greeted her, and after feeding him and giving him attention she sequestered herself inside her tiny office. Whiskers returned to his spot in the window and curled up for a nap.

Dreading the task before her, Lydia put it off and brewed herself a single cup of coffee. Sitting at her desk, she savored it before she started in on paying bills, a necessary evil.

Business had picked up slightly, but it was difficult to show a profit in a down economy, and they were heading into the summer months, when business generally took a downturn. Lydia had a strict budget she needed to adhere to. Thankfully, she was able to pay her creditors and employees with a small amount left over, which was a nice surprise. It would be helpful to have more than the most rudimentary website, but she wouldn’t be able to afford that anytime soon. She was grateful Brad’s job supported their family, and he encouraged her efforts with a small business.

A loud knock sounded against the glass at the front door. Lydia glanced at her watch, surprised to find that nearly ninety minutes had passed. It didn’t seem possible. Hurrying out of her office, she went to the front of the store and unlocked the door for the Seattle Times reporter.

“Hello again,” Shannon Kidder greeted.

Lydia had the other woman’s business card, and after reading several of Shannon’s columns online, she felt the reporter could be trusted to set the right tone for the news piece.

“Come in, please.” She opened the door wider to allow the reporter greater access.

Shannon came into the shop, paused, and looked around at the shelves of yarn and the variety of colors Lydia had so carefully organized. Between her and her staff members, several sample projects had been knitted and were artfully displayed around the shop.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever been in a yarn store before,” Shannon said, and handed Lydia a second business card.

“Welcome, then. I hope when we’re finished that you’ll feel free to look around. I thought we could talk at the table in the back.” Lydia pointed toward the section of the store where the staff taught classes. The table was used for social knitting as well.

“I appreciate your willingness to chat with me when the shop is technically closed,” Shannon said, following Lydia.

“I’m happy to do it.”

Shannon pulled out a chair and then removed a tablet from her purse. “Would it be all right for me to record our conversation?”