Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(27)
“Okay, I will.” Cody marched to the end of his bed, slipped his hand under the mattress and took out a folded piece of paper. Chase hovered near the door, watching him.
Brad and I exchanged a look of surprise and made an effort to hide our amusement. Apparently Cody was upset enough to reveal his secret hiding place without even realizing it. Chase settled on the braided rug beside the bed and rested his chin on his paws as his dark eyes followed Cody. He seemed a little uneasy, no doubt because he was so sensitive to our son’s moods. Standing directly in front of us, Cody unfolded the single sheet of paper, then cleared his throat. “Demand number one. If you’re going to adopt another kid, I want a brother, not a sister.”
Brad sighed. “We won’t necessarily have a say in the matter, Cody. It would be the same as if Lydia were to get pregnant. We wouldn’t know until much later if it was a boy or a girl.”
“I want a brother, ” Cody insisted.
“We’ll do our best to get you a brother,” I said.
“What else is on your, uh, list of demands?” Brad asked in a serious voice.
“I get to be the oldest kid in the family.” He looked directly at us, his mouth a straight, angry line. “I was here first, right? If you bring in some other kid, then that kid can’t be the boss of me.”
“Sounds fair,” Brad assured our son. I nodded. He seemed shocked by our agreement. “You promise?”
“I can’t make it a real promise,” Brad said, “because we won’t know the age until we decide on the child our family would like to adopt. But we’re asking for a baby, so it’s probably not an issue.”
Cody seemed somewhat mollified.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Yes.” Cody looked at us again and his face tightened with determination. “I’m not giving in on this,” he said, sounding as though he was engaged in some high-level diplomatic negotiation. Well, I guess from his point of view, he was. “And if you don’t say yes, then I don’t want anything to do with our family getting another kid.”
“Let’s hear it,” Brad said.
“I want full approval.” He spoke with such fervor his voice trembled. “I get to say which kid we adopt. If I don’t like ’em, they can’t live here.”
“Like your dad said, we’re hoping for a baby, so I think that should meet your demand. We’ll request a boy…although it might take a while.” I was discouraged by how long the list of potential parents already was.
Mildly appeased, Cody glanced down at the dog. “Chase gets approval, too.”
I almost started to giggle, but Brad frowned. “Son, listen, I know you’re upset because Casey—”
“I just want to make sure you aren’t going to adopt her, ” he cried.
“No,” Brad said evenly. “As Lydia’s explained, Casey’s stay with us is temporary.”
I heard a noise outside the door and I suspected Casey had been standing on the other side, listening to our conversation. When I returned to the kitchen, however, she was sitting at the table, exactly as we’d left her.
I prepared the salad and asked Casey to clear the table so we could set it for dinner. Silently she removed the cookbook, returning it to the shelf. I wondered how she was doing in her math class, but she never volunteered any information and evaded my questions. She hadn’t asked for help, so I assumed all was well. Casey took the plates down from the cupboard and added glasses and silverware. Although I tried to make conversation, she remained uncommunicative, even stoic.
“Casey,” I said gently. I placed my hand on her shoulder, hoping to reassure her. She shrugged it off as if she found my touch repulsive. I forged ahead, feeling I needed to say something just in case she’d heard part of our conversation with Cody. “I know being here is uncomfortable for you and I apologize. I feel we’ve been exceedingly rude. You are most welcome in our home.”
She snickered. “Yeah, right.”
She looked at me and for an instant, for the briefest f licker of time, I saw pain in her eyes. It was quickly gone, replaced by anger and defiance.
Dinner was a miserable affair. Casey didn’t utter a single word, nor did she bother to eat more than a couple of bites. Cody didn’t do much better. Although Spanish rice was one of his favorites, his plate was practically untouched. A war of wills seemed to be taking place between Cody and Casey and they glared openly at each other across the table. Brad and I made several attempts to find a safe topic of conversation, but apparently there was none. Neither child responded to our comments about movies or my cat’s clever antics or anything else, and by the time they left the table, I felt exhausted. As soon as they were excused, both kids disappeared into their bedrooms. Brad sighed and I shook my head, hardly knowing what to say.
“That was an unqualified disaster,” he said, keeping his voice low. I could only agree.
“Is there any chance Evelyn could f ind another foster home for Casey?” he asked.
“I…don’t know. I suppose I can call her.” I hated the thought, but one more meal like this and we’d be at each other’s throats. Brad looked as discouraged as I did. “I guess we should let her stay until the end of the week.”
We’d brief ly discussed keeping her until classes were f inished, but that was out of the question now. The current situation wasn’t working. I’d had no idea that two children could take such an immediate and uncompromising dislike to each other. Cody, I could understand. Casey had been thrust upon him without warning. If there’d been time to talk to him beforehand, I was sure he would’ve welcomed—or at least accepted—her. And I suppose Casey’s attitude sprang from a natural defensiveness, given her background. Cody was in bed by nine and while Brad went in to say goodnight and hear his prayers, I decided to check on Casey. I hadn’t heard a peep out of her since she’d gone into her room and closed the door.