Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(30)

“Dr. Stone told Libby that he suspected one of you girls is … pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Casey repeated slowly, frowning. “No way.”

“If you are pregnant,” Lydia said, wanting to be sure Casey understood that she shouldn’t be afraid to tell them, “then Dad and I are here to help you. The most important thing is to get you to a doctor. The baby … well, we’ll deal with that subject when the time comes. What’s important is that you know you can come to us with anything.”

“You seriously think I’m pregnant?” Casey asked, her head rearing back.

“We don’t know,” Brad told her. “That’s why we’re asking.”

“It’s not me.”

“You’re sure? One of the things Dr. Stone said was that you might not even know you’re carrying a baby.”

“It’s not me,” Casey insisted. “No angel came to see me and I’m not giving birth to Jesus.”

Lydia smiled in spite of herself.

“Could it be Ava?” Brad asked.

Casey shook her head. “No. Dr. Stone is wrong. How would he know, anyway? We were only with him a few minutes.”

This was the same question Lydia and Brad had both asked.

“Libby said one of the reasons she came to me is because there might be a legal issue involved.”

“I’m still … you know.” She seemed embarrassed to say the word.

“A virgin,” Lydia supplied.

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Brad said forcefully. “Keep it that way.”

Casey blinked several times. “I won’t always be, Dad. I’ll get married and have kids one day, you know.”

“No problem.” Brad raised his hands as though surrendering. “But I want you to wait until you’re at least thirty.”

“Dad!”

“Just kidding.”

Lydia rubbed her thumb over the top of Casey’s hand. “I think I should probably call Ava’s grandmother,” she said, thinking out loud.

“Don’t,” Casey urged. “Her grandmother isn’t there half the time anyway. Ava thinks having them with her makes her sad because her daughter died and now she’s stuck with them.”

“But her grandmother needs to know so she can talk to Ava.”

Casey considered that for several moments, gnawing on her lower lip. “Let me do it.”

“Casey, I appreciate the offer but I think I should be the one …”

“Mom, I can help Ava. I know I can. Ava trusts me. The other night when I snuck out of the house?”

“Yes,” Brad said.

“I was helping Ava … I brought her food. I have a few times now. Her grandmother said she’s getting fat and would only let her eat salad for dinner and she got really hungry. So I took her some food.” They both fell silent as the implication that Ava was “getting fat” sank in.

“Oh, Casey …” Lydia hardly knew what to say. “I appreciate that you want to talk to your friend, but there are a lot of factors involved in this.”

“Let me be the one,” Casey pleaded. “If you do it then I doubt she’ll ever come back to the yarn store. She might open up to me, but she would never with you.”

Brad placed his hand on Lydia’s arm. “Maybe you should let her.”

Lydia reluctantly agreed. She liked Ava, but it was true that the girl hardly said a word whenever she was around. Ava seemed to draw deep into herself when she was at the store, and Casey had taken the other girl under her wing. But it went against Lydia’s better judgment to put this on Casey’s shoulders. “Let me think on it, okay?”

Casey nodded and then brightened. “Maybe Libby should be the one.”

“Libby,” Lydia repeated.

“Ava likes Libby a lot,” Casey volunteered. “She told me so.”

“That’s a possibility,” Lydia repeated slowly.

“Libby’s mother died when she was the same age as Ava. She talked to Ava, too, when we went to the hospital. Ava didn’t say much but I could tell she really likes Libby. She’d listen to her; I know she would.”

That was the answer, Lydia mused, as a huge sense of relief filled her. She’d ask Libby to talk to Ava. If the girl liked and trusted Libby, then perhaps she would open up to her.

Chapter 11

High on enthusiasm, Libby’s steps were lighter as she walked into Seattle General. When it rained it poured, as the proverb went—and it was just as true of good news as bad. First Sarah had phoned to say that Martha Reed was unhappy with Ben Holmes’s working on her account. Libby didn’t mean to gloat, but she knew she was ten times the trust and estate lawyer Ben Holmes was.

The second bit of positive news came as a complete surprise. Just that morning Robin had ever so casually mentioned that a friend of hers might have a line on a job for Libby. When pressed, Robin had been reluctant to say much more, but she’d told Libby that she’d give her details when she had them.

Although Robin had refused to answer questions, Libby suspected this friend was the very one the prosecutor had set her sights on. Every time Robin mentioned her contact she looked away, as though she was afraid Libby might read more into it than she intended.