Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(60)

“It might not rain,” Cody muttered with his nose pressed against the living-room window.

No sooner had he made his optimistic forecast than the downpour started. Unlike the usual drizzle we get in the Pacif ic Northwest, it rained buckets, the water hitting the sidewalk with such force it seemed to bounce.

“Put in a movie,” I suggested.

Brad had decided to work in the garage, and I planned to use the opportunity to write my aunt Betty a letter. She was my father’s sister and my godmother and we’d always had a special relationship. Betty didn’t have a computer, so e-mail wasn’t an option, but I liked writing her real letters on the stationery she got me for Christmas.

“Which movie?” Cody said listlessly. He inspected the DVDs we kept next to the television.

I could hear him and Casey discussing what to watch and noticed that Cody let Casey make the choice. She picked Schoolof Rock with Jack Black. It was one he’d seen plenty of times and I knew he’d rather see something else. I was proud of him for putting someone else’s desire above his own. Our son was growing up!

As the movie played, I checked in now and then. At one point I discovered that Cody had taken out a jigsaw puzzle Brad had completed last winter and then dismantled. It was a thousandpiece puzzle depicting a Civil War scene, far beyond our son’s skill level. But I didn’t want to discourage him, so I said nothing. Cody had cleared off the dining-room table and set up the puzzle, just as Brad had months earlier. Then he propped up the box with the painting of Pickett’s charge at Gettysburg and began turning all the pieces faceup, the way he’d seen his father do. Casey sprawled on the sofa, staring at the screen. Chase lay on the f loor nearby and Casey rested one bare foot on his soft back. I wondered why she wasn’t crocheting. From the day Margaret had taught her, she’d had a crochet hook in her hand every spare minute. She’d crocheted f ive washcloths now and I’d given her some leftover yarn for granny squares, which she seemed to enjoy making.

Then I realized why she was gazing blankly at the TV. She was disappointed that our outing was cancelled because of the weather. I started to tell her we’d do it another day—and stopped. We would, but it might very well be after she’d left for her next foster home. I didn’t want to remind either one of us of that. When I f inished my letter, I sealed the envelope and went in search of a stamp. I thought there might be one on the diningroom hutch. Entering the room to look for it, I saw that Casey had abandoned the movie and was sitting next to Cody at the table.

“You need to f ind all the border pieces f irst,” she was telling him. “Here, I’ll help you.”

“Okay.”

Frankly, I’d never believed I’d ever see the two of them working together like this, with no squabbling and no complaining. After a moment Cody triumphantly held up a corner piece.

“Look!”

“Hey, that’s great,” Casey said. “We’ll start building out from there.” She set it on the far side of the table. I located a stamp, then glanced over at the two of them. I noticed that Casey had allowed Cody to put several pieces in place.

“I want to do it,” Cody said loudly when Casey added a small section she’d been working on.

“Hold on,” Casey muttered.

Okay, so maybe I’d been a bit optimistic. But within a few minutes they’d settled back into their cooperative mood, and I heard nothing but occasional murmurs and yelps of satisfaction. Around noon Brad came in for lunch. I’d heated tomato soup and made cheese sandwiches. “What’s going on in there?” he asked, gesturing toward the dining room.

“Cody and Casey are putting together a jigsaw puzzle, the same one you did last winter.”

He arched his brows but didn’t comment.

“Lunch is ready, kids,” I said, poking my head inside. When I saw that they’d already finished the entire border, I was impressed. “How’d you get so much done so quickly?”

Holding a single piece in his hand, Cody looked up. “Casey’s really good at this.”

“Hey, you are, too,” she told him.

Cody couldn’t stop grinning, he was so pleased. “Can I eat after?” he asked.

“You’re not hungry?”

“I’d rather work on this.”

I turned to Casey.

“I’ll wait, too. We can reheat the soup later.”

“No problem.” The movie had long since ended, and the screen was black. I walked over and switched it off, then returned to the kitchen.

Brad and I ate alone, something that hardly ever happened anymore.

“That’s not an easy puzzle, you know,” he said. I agreed. “They seem to be enjoying themselves, though.”

Brad wolfed down the rest of his sandwich and carried his empty soup bowl to the sink. A moment later, he’d joined the two children, sitting in a chair between them. When I’d put our few dishes in the dishwasher, I joined the family, too. We worked steadily on the puzzle, with a quick lunch break for the kids, and it must’ve been two hours before I realized the sun was shining through the dining-room window.

“Does anyone want to ride bikes around Green Lake?” I asked. The three of them looked at me, their eyes blank until my comment registered.

“Hey!” Cody cried, pointing at the window. “The sun’s out!”