Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(25)

If the situation was reversed and she was the one to talk to Lydia, what would she do? The memory of the eleven-year-old played in her mind. If this thirteen-year-old was pregnant it was more than the health issue involved. The question of whether the father was of legal age played into the equation. This could be rape. Charges might need to be filed. It could be a legal question as much as an ethical one.

“I plan to get to the bottom of this. If someone took advantage of this girl … she needs help,” Libby said.

“I thought of that, too,” Robin whispered.

“I imagine you did,” Libby murmured. “Oh, Robin, what is our world coming to?”

Chapter 9

Libby thought long and hard about how best to approach Lydia Goetz.

It would have helped if Phillip had showed up at the gym the following morning. But he hadn’t, so she didn’t get the chance to question him further. Robin urged Libby to stop by the yarn store as soon as possible and talk to Lydia. Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one who had to face a woman she barely knew with this potentially devastating news.

As she mulled all this over, Libby was filled with dread. She paced the living area in her condo, checking her watch every five minutes until ten o’clock, when A Good Yarn opened.

She left the condo at around 9:45 a.m. and decided to walk, hoping the exercise would inspire her on how best to approach the subject. She needed just the right words—if there was such a thing. “Lydia, your thirteen-year-old daughter might be pregnant.” How did anyone say that?

Wanting to delay the conversation, Libby stopped in at Susannah’s Garden and aimlessly wandered around. The scent of flowers didn’t lift her mood as she’d hoped it would. Instead she found herself thinking of all the flowers that family and friends had sent for her mother’s funeral. There’d been so many bouquets that her father had given several away. Libby left the flower shop without making a purchase.

The bell above the door chimed as she entered the yarn store. Lydia’s face brightened with a welcoming smile. She was such a warm, kind person, and Libby feared this news would devastate her.

“Libby, it’s good to see you. Are you having any problems with the baby blanket you’re working on?”

“No … no.” She glanced around the shop. Lydia was alone. Either her sister, Margaret, was with their mother, or else she would arrive later.

“I was hoping the two of us would have time for a chat,” Libby said, avoiding eye contact. Her voice was low and, despite her best efforts, filled with trepidation.

“Of course, Libby.” Her friend led the way to the back of the shop and automatically poured them each a cup of coffee.

“Black, right?”

“Right.” Oh, how she missed that half-and-half, but she’d given it up as part of her plan for dropping those extra ten pounds.

Lydia handed her the mug and they both sat down at the table.

“I hesitate to say anything,” Libby said, staring into her coffee. “I wouldn’t if it wasn’t a health and legal issue and, well …”

“A health and legal issue?” Lydia repeated. Now she, too, seemed alarmed.

“I think it might be best if I start at the beginning,” Libby suggested. She’d tried to think of the best way to lead into the subject with some finesse and hadn’t come up with a single idea. The only way, she resolved, was to be as direct as possible.

“Yes, please, start at the beginning.” Lydia held on to her coffee mug with both hands as if she needed to cling to something solid.

“Remember when I went to Seattle General with Casey and Ava about a week and a half ago?”

“Of course. You dropped off the preemie hats.”

“Right. While we were there we met Dr. Stone in the elevator.”

“Oh, yes.” Lydia brightened somewhat. “The girls were impressed with the handsome Dr. Stone.”

“He recognized me because we work out at the same gym.”

“So the girls said.”

Apparently Libby had said more than she’d realized. “He recently asked to speak to me … privately.”

Lydia smiled knowingly. “Really?”

“Don’t get the wrong impression. I can categorically tell you that Dr. Stone isn’t the least bit interested in me personally.”

“Oh, Libby, are you disappointed?”

“No, not at all.” She shook her head, not wanting to get sidetracked. “The thing is, he felt it was important we talk because …”

The bell above the door chimed, indicating that Lydia had a customer. Libby groaned inwardly and forced herself to sit back. Her entire body felt coiled, like she was a warrior going into battle. Her senses were on full alert; adrenaline was pumping hard and fast through her veins.

While Lydia dealt with the customer, Margaret arrived. Libby had grown accustomed to her brusque ways and knew not to take offense. She suspected that beneath that gruff exterior was a gentle soul. Libby knew that Margaret was fiercely protective of her sister, and she wished she could continue her conversation with Lydia in private. Margaret wouldn’t take kindly to her upsetting Lydia.

“Hello, Libby,” Margaret said, as she put her purse inside the small office. She returned with a mug of coffee.

Lydia finished with her customer and almost immediately someone else stepped into the store. Hesitating, Libby wondered if it might be best for her to return another time. Then she decided it was now or never—otherwise she might lose her courage.