Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(37)

“Yes…and even toilet paper,” Alix said with a small laugh. This was a whole different world to her friend. Lydia couldn’t understand the mind of a child like Casey, not the way Alix did. Alix, too, had been a case number, a name on a f ile. Evelyn Boyd did her best; she was a good woman with a huge heart but she carried a heavy load.

“You talked about the tape and stickiness,” Lydia reminded her.

“Yes.”

“How can I give Casey some of her glue back?”

Good question. Alix leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table, and thought about it, recalling that time in her own life.

When she was in the eighth grade, she’d lived in three different foster homes and attended three different schools. It’d been a bad year for her, and she suspected that once Casey left Lydia and Brad’s, her year would follow the same downward spiral.

“Does Casey have any family? A grandmother? Aunt? Cousins?

Does—” She stopped when Lydia started to nod.

“She mentioned a brother,” she said eagerly, then paused.

“Actually, I think it was Evelyn who told me that Casey has an older brother. Apparently he’s at the Kent Juvenile Facility.”

Alix had brief ly been incarcerated there herself. Kent was a south Seattle community with the largest juvenile facility in the area, possibly the state.

“It would help if you could arrange for Casey to visit her brother.”

“But how?” Lydia sounded perplexed.

“Get Evelyn involved. I can guarantee that Casey will feel a whole lot better if she can spend even a small amount of time with him.”

Alix had loved her brother, too. She didn’t talk about Tom and very few people knew about him. Tom’s death had been the turning point in Alix’s life. Up until then, she’d experimented with drugs, hung out with losers and generally got herself into trouble.

Then Tom had been found dead. He’d choked to death on his own vomit after shooting up heroin. As long as she lived, Alix would never forget the day she’d learned that the only person who’d ever truly loved her was gone. Forever. She’d wanted to die herself. Giving herself a mental shake, Alix returned her attention to Lydia.

“I’ll call Evelyn as soon as I get back to the store,” Lydia said.

“I appreciate the advice.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

“Anything else you can suggest?”

“Well…you’re going to need lots of patience.”

“You mean more than Brad and I have already given her?”

Lydia asked wryly.

Remembering her own youth, Alix nodded. “Lots more.”

“I was afraid of that.” Lydia laughed a little. Alix laughed, too. She wondered whether Lydia’s sister had any opinions on this latest development—and was sure she did. “What does Margaret have to say about the situation with Casey?”

“You don’t want to hear.” Lydia’s smile wavered and she shook her head. “Margaret means well. It’s just that she’s so used to looking after me. Even now Margaret’s always positive that she knows best.”

Alix glanced at her watch and realized her break had ended f ive minutes earlier. She’d better f ind out why Winter had asked to see her.

“I need to get back to work,” she said and stood, collecting their empty cups.

“Thanks again,” Lydia murmured.

“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do. Or if you ever need to talk,” Alix said, and she meant it.

Chapter 13

“Hutch” Hutchinson

Hutch sat at the table in the back of A Good Yarn and tried to concentrate on his knitting. The sampler scarf was progressing well as far as he could see, at least the f irst and second sections were. He’d learned to knit and purl, which seemed to impress everyone, from his mother to his assistant, Gail. This was the third class and Lydia was showing them how to make cable stitches, which was bound to really impress Gloria and Gail. Lydia was teaching them in stages, and he suspected the stitches would become progressively more diff icult with every week. He felt a little hesitant about this, since knitting didn’t come naturally to him. He’d hoped for relaxation, not another challenge—

despite the bragging rights conferred by his new skill. He might have considered dropping out if not for an even more interesting challenge. Phoebe Rylander.

She was already there when he arrived, and he’d been distracted from the moment he sat down. He hoped his fascination with her wasn’t obvious; he was afraid of embarrassing himself and frightening her off.

He couldn’t believe how romantically inept he was, although he told himself there were extenuating circumstances. Phoebe was still grieving the death of her f iancé, and he didn’t want to appear insensitive to her pain. At the same time…well, he’d like to get to know her.

He was trying to heed his mother’s advice—to go slow—but if he went any more slowly, the next ice age might overtake the world before he’d managed to ask her out on an actual date. This was the third week he’d sat across from her. He felt as if he was still in junior high—and he didn’t like the feeling. He’d offered to escort her to her car that f irst class. Phoebe had declined, so during the second class he didn’t mention it again. They’d spoken a few times, about inconsequential things. She’d laughed at his jokes. That was a good sign, but then Alix and Lydia had laughed, too.