Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(53)

Her daughter made a good case. That was what Lydia got for letting her hang around with Libby a few afternoons a week. Casey could argue like an attorney. Maybe she’d choose law over medicine.

“Ava’s frightened, Mom. Wouldn’t you be? But I told her she’d be better off dealing with this now instead of letting it upset her so much. Crying this hard isn’t good for her or the baby.”

Lydia agreed with Casey that it was time for Ava’s grandmother to learn the truth. What she dreaded was being the one to tell her. Mrs. Carmichael was sure to be upset, but at least she’d be able to help Ava deal with the pregnancy. The girl needed medical attention, and her family needed to make a decision about the baby.

“Will you talk to her grandmother for her?” Casey asked again.

Lydia realized she was probably the best choice. At least Mrs. Carmichael had met her before.

“Let me talk this over with your father first.”

After the dinner dishes were cleared from the table, Lydia brought it up with her husband. Casey went outside for a few minutes with her brother and by the time she returned, Brad and Lydia had decided that Lydia should approach Darlene Carmichael.

No time like the present.

On the drive over, Lydia thought long and hard about the best way to break the news to the other woman. Ava wouldn’t be happy with her, but the girl’s physical and mental well-being was a far more important concern.

As a peace offering, she brought along a plate of oatmeal cookies she’d baked with Casey that morning while it was still cool. Hopefully the cookies would help sweeten the older woman’s mood.

When she pulled up in front of the house, Jackson, Ava’s older brother, was outside by himself, playing basketball in the next-door neighbor’s driveway. He didn’t seem to notice her.

Standing on the front steps, Lydia rang the doorbell. Her stomach was in knots and she whispered a silent prayer, asking God to give her the right words. The front door opened and Darlene Carmichael stood on the other side of the screen. Her eyes narrowed until she saw the plate of cookies. The screen had a giant rip in the bottom half.

“Hello again,” Lydia said. “I’m Lydia Goetz, Casey’s mom. We met a couple of months ago.”

“I remember.”

Lydia remained standing outside the screen door. “Would it be all right if I came inside for a few minutes?”

The older woman hesitated before unlatching the door, pulling it open for Lydia. When she stepped into the house the smell of cigarette smoke was overpowering. Mrs. Carmichael led the way into the living room and plopped herself down in a recliner. There was a beer can on the end table next to the chair.

The sofa was covered with what looked like an old bedspread. Something had been spilled on it and left to dry. Setting the plate of cookies down, Lydia sat at the far end of the sofa as close to the edge as she dared.

Ava’s grandmother concentrated on the television screen, which was tuned to a Hollywood gossip show.

“I apologize for stopping by unannounced.” Lydia nervously smoothed her hand over her knees.

“I hope Ava hasn’t been making a pest of herself.”

“Not at all,” Lydia countered quickly. “I’ve enjoyed Ava tremendously. She’s a charming girl.”

Mrs. Carmichael’s gaze left the television screen and a hint of a smile came and went from her eyes. “She looks a lot like my daughter. Sometimes …” she hesitated and then continued, “sometimes when I look at her I think it’s Gaylene and then I remember that Gaylene is gone. I miss her, you know.” She had a hoarse smoker’s voice that quickly turned into a cough. Grabbing the ashtray next to the can of beer, she stabbed the cigarette butt several times into the glass. “I quit smoking two years ago and only started back after we buried Gaylene … I plan to quit again although I keep putting it off. I know it’s bad for me and not a good example for Jackson and Ava, but for now I need these cigarettes.”

She coughed again, so deep that for a moment Lydia thought she might need to slap the older woman across the back. Once the coughing subsided, Lydia said, “Ava and Casey have spent quite a bit of time together this summer.”

“So I understand. Ava knit a couple of dishcloths; they aren’t half bad.” Her gaze remained focused on the television set. “She said you gave her the yarn.” The last part was added as if the older woman was afraid Lydia was going to ask her for payment. Lydia had no intention of seeking reimbursement.

“I did … it’s leftover yarn from other projects I’ve done. I’m glad to see it put to good use.” Lydia smiled, proud of all that Ava had accomplished over the last few weeks. “Ava’s learned how to crochet, too. She is actually a very quick learner.” She resisted the urge to jabber away rather than discuss the reason for her visit.

A door opened; the sound came from the hallway that led off the living room. Ava came out and stopped cold when she saw Lydia. From her position, her grandmother couldn’t see her, which was a good thing because Ava’s eyes widened. It didn’t seem possible that she could go any paler, but she did.

Lydia looked away. “Ava was over this afternoon and she mentioned that you’ve been concerned because she’s gaining weight.”

Ava took two steps forward and made a cutting motion with her hands while shaking her head.