Blossom Street Brides (Blossom Street #10)(92)

“Promise,” Lydia echoed.

“Is all that settled now?” Brad asked. He still hadn’t backed out of the driveway.

“I guess,” Casey muttered with a pout. “But I don’t like the idea of Grandma moving.”

“I don’t think anyone wants this,” Brad assured her, “but, like your mother said, it’s necessary.”

“Whatever.”

Brad had made reservations at a fun Italian restaurant in the downtown Seattle area that specialized in spaghetti. The atmosphere was homey, and the food was good and relatively inexpensive. It was one of Casey’s favorites places to eat. Cody’s, too.

The hostess escorted them to a booth, and Casey sat across from Brad and Lydia. Brad ordered two glasses of Chianti Classico for Lydia and himself. Casey kept her gaze focused on them both after the server took their drink orders.

“Whatever it is you want to talk about must really be bad,” she muttered, studying her menu as if it were the final test for getting her driver’s license.

“Bad?” Brad asked. “What makes you say that?”

“I know stuff,” Casey said, leaning back in the polished wooden booth. Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t live in as many homes as I have without picking up on things.”

“Really?” Brad leaned forward, highly interested, it seemed. “And what have you learned?”

“First off, I could always tell when a family had decided to pass me off to someone else. They reacted one of two ways. Either they completely ignored me as if I was already out the door. Or they started doing all kinds of nice things for me.”

“Like what?” Brad asked. “Taking you out to dinner in an Italian restaurant?”

“Not anything that big. Little things, like buying me a new pair of shoes or getting my hair cut or something like that.”

“You don’t think your father and I are going to pass you off to another family, do you?” Lydia asked. This had been a keen concern of Casey’s earlier. Lydia hoped that by now Casey had come to understand that she was their daughter, a part of their family, and a big part of their hearts and their lives.

“No, no,” Casey assured them. “It’s not that.”

“So what are you thinking?” Brad asked.

The server returned with the two glasses of wine and Casey’s favorite soda. “Are you ready to order?” he asked.

They each decided on something different. Lydia enjoyed the eggplant Parmesan, Brad asked for spaghetti and meatballs, and Casey wanted lasagna. After writing down their requests, the server left.

Brad waited until the young man was gone before he said, “Getting back to your answer to my question.” He gestured for Casey to continue with her explanation. “You think something’s up because your mother and I are taking you to dinner.”

“Without Cody,” Casey added pointedly, “who you made sure was someplace else this evening.”

“Without Cody,” Brad said, and reached for his wineglass.

Her husband, Lydia noticed, seemed to be enjoying this.

She wasn’t. Already, her stomach was in knots, and she wondered if she’d even be able to taste her dinner.

“I figure you and Mom want to tell me something,” Casey continued, “only I don’t know what it is.”

“We aren’t sending you away,” Lydia reiterated.

“Well, duh. If you were going to do that you would have done it long before now. I’m not the easiest kid.”

Brad chuckled. Sensing her nervousness, he reached for Lydia’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Come on, Casey, you aren’t so bad.”

“My grades were good.” Casey was proud of her final school report, and well she should be. She’d scored As and Bs in every subject. When she’d first come to them, her grades had been below average and she’d struggled in reading and math skills.

“Your grades weren’t just good; they were great. Even in math,” Lydia added. The subject had been her daughter’s weakest. It was because Casey needed to attend a summer-school course in math that she’d originally come to live with them.

“You’re taking me to dinner because you wanted to tell me about Grandma?” Her voice elevated with the question as though she was afraid of what they had to say.

“Not really,” Lydia said, “although that’s part of it.”

Casey shifted uncomfortably. “It’s the nightmares, then, isn’t it?”

“Indirectly.”

“You’re afraid what’s going to happen to me if Grandma dies.”

“It has us worried, honey,” Lydia agreed. “And it isn’t if Grandma dies, it’s when.”

Casey brushed off their concern. “I’ll be okay.”

“What about the nightmares?” Brad asked.

“They’ll go away eventually,” Casey answered, as if these horrific dreams were a small thing.

“They’ve been happening more frequently lately.”

Casey lowered her eyes and nodded. “I know, but it’ll get better soon.”

All evidence pointed to exactly the opposite.

“I’ve had these dreams before, and they come and go,” she mentioned casually. “Really, it’s no big deal.”