Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(91)

He shrugged. “Because Rooster isn’t.”

That, too, was a possibility she hadn’t taken into consideration. “Then where is he?”

Max frowned. “I wish I knew. He took off on his motorcycle.”

“He didn’t tell you where he was headed?”

“No. All he said was that he needed time away in order to clear his head. He rode out of here like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.”

“He didn’t take his cellphone with him?”

“Apparently not.”

“When will he be back?” She fired the questions at him like a Gatling gun.

“I can’t tell you that, either. What would you like to do?”

“Do?” she repeated. She didn’t have a choice, not really. She would do what any wife would. “I’ll wait for him,” she said.

Max nodded approvingly and reached for her suitcase. “Then I’ll take you to his place.”

Chapter Thirty-three

Life is too short to knit with ugly yarn.

—Jennifer Vancalcar,

owner and dyer, Holiday Yarns

“We’re going out to dinner?” Casey asked, her dark eyes narrowing with suspicion as she stood in the hallway outside Lydia’s bathroom. “Just the three of us?”

Lydia looked away from the mirror, the eye-shadow applicator in her hand. “Cody’s spending the night with Jaxon.”

“Yeah, but I heard you talking to Jaxon’s mom,” Casey said as she leaned against the doorjamb, “and you asked if Cody could spend the night.”

“I did,” Lydia concurred.

“It’s not my birthday,” Casey reminded her.

“Yes, honey, I know.”

Casey straightened, left momentarily, and then just as quickly returned. “Are you mad at me about something?”

“No. Your father and I wouldn’t be taking you to dinner if we were upset about something, would we?”

Casey frowned with uncertainty. “Ah … I guess not.”

“My girls ready?” Brad called out from the living room. He’d been dressed and prepared to leave ten minutes earlier.

“Give me another second,” Lydia called back.

“I’m ready … I think,” Casey added. She walked out of the bedroom and came back a second time. “This dinner is about Grandma, isn’t it?”

“Casey, relax.” Lydia should have known her daughter would be apprehensive. She wished now that she’d explained matters earlier. “Yes, your father and I want to talk to you, but it isn’t anything bad.”

“I know Grandma’s getting worse,” Casey said, with a slight edge to her voice. “She sometimes can’t remember who I am now … and she forgets to eat.”

Her mother remained a major concern for Lydia. Earlier in the week Margaret and she had met with the director of the assisted-living complex regarding her mother’s return from the hospital. Since Mary Lou’s fall and stroke, her physical and mental health had rapidly deteriorated. Before the end of the meeting, Mrs. Wilson had recommended that Lydia’s mother be transferred to a memory-care facility.

Lydia hated the thought of bringing her mother into a completely new environment. While in the hospital and nursing home, she’d looked small and lost and afraid. Like everyone, her mother was most comfortable with what was familiar. And while she didn’t participate in many of the social activities at the retirement facility, her mother had settled nicely into her own small apartment.

“Margaret and I are thinking about moving Mom,” Lydia explained.

Casey was instantly concerned. “Moving her? Where?”

“We don’t know yet. We’ve just started looking.”

Anxiety tightened Casey’s sweet face. “She’ll still be close by, won’t she? You aren’t taking her out of the city, are you?”

“Casey, I don’t know. Now, let’s get going; your father’s made reservations.”

Brad was already in the car by the time Lydia and Casey joined him. Casey climbed into the backseat, and, after snapping the seat belt in place, she tightly crossed her arms.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Brad asked, looking at Casey from the rearview mirror.

“Mom’s moving Grandma.”

“We really don’t have any choice, Casey,” Lydia explained with a tired sigh. “I don’t like it any better than you do.” This was a difficult decision and Lydia and her sister took their responsibility for their mother seriously.

“Grandma needs us,” Casey insisted.

“Which is what this is all about,” Lydia said, doing the best she could to explain. “Moving Mom to a memory-care facility is taking care of her the best way we know how.”

“Will I still be able to visit?”

“Of course.”

“What if this new place isn’t on a bus route?”

“Margaret and I will take that into consideration when we check out the facilities.” The closeness between the two was an asset to her mother’s health. Casey’s attention and devotion had helped Mary Lou tremendously, and, for that matter, Casey, too.

“Promise you’ll do your best to keep Grandma close so I can visit her?”