Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(93)

“No,” Winter returned thoughtfully. “You’ve been a wonderful employee until just recently. I’m hoping you can resolve whatever’s bothering you.” She looked directly at Alix. “Do you think that’s possible?”

Alix swallowed hard and nodded. It was easy to blame her bad mood on her need for a smoke; however, the reason was more than her craving for nicotine.

The cigarettes were a convenient excuse, but the underlying problem was her fear of motherhood. She yearned for a child; at the same time the prospect still terrif ied her. Jordan did his best to reassure her but Alix couldn’t help worrying about her abilities as a mother. Her husband was willing to take the risk, willing to believe they’d be good parents. Alix was the one who doubted.

“I’ll work on a better attitude,” Alix promised as she left the office.

“Giving up smoking isn’t easy,” Winter said sympathetically.

“It causes mood swings and concentration problems—but with you I sense it’s more than that.”

“It is,” Alix agreed.

“Do you need some time to clear your head?” Winter asked.

“Could I have an hour?”

“Absolutely.”

Removing her apron, Alix decided she’d take a walk. She set out for the small park close to Blossom Street, her strides brisk, her thoughts no less so.

The day was overcast, dark skies threatening rain, but the weather suited her mood. The play section of the park was deserted. Alix sat on a swing and placed both hands on the chain, gently swaying back and forth.

“Hi.”

Alix glanced up to see Casey Marshall standing off to one side, looking morose. They’d talked a couple of times and understood each other, since they shared a similar background, with all the insecurities it engendered.

“Hey, what’s got you down?” Alix asked, putting aside her own troubles.

“I came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“I’m going to my new foster home next week.”

“So soon?”

Casey bit her lip. “It’s a good place. Evelyn told me. The best, she said.”

“I hated moving, too,” Alix told her. She remembered stuff ing everything she possessed in a small suitcase, leaving behind friends, pets and life as she’d known it for those months or years. Settling in with a new family was always diff icult. She’d hated starting over.

“It’s just that…” Casey left the rest unsaid. She sat in the swing next to Alix and kicked at the ground with the toe of her tennis shoes.

Alix didn’t need her to f inish the thought. “It’s hard to leave Lydia and Brad, isn’t it?”

Casey nodded. “They…they’re great. I know I sort of got pushed on them,” she murmured. “They want to adopt a baby…

Everyone does, right?”

“Right.” Alix couldn’t argue with the facts. Infants were quickly adopted and older children were often shuff led from home to home, family to family, never having the opportunity to put down roots in any one community.

“When I f irst came to them, I…I didn’t want to be there. It was only supposed to be a couple of days. Lydia and Brad opened their home to me and…and their hearts, too. I didn’t want to like them, but I did. I do.” Sadness seemed to emanate from her as she stared down at the ground.

“I know.” And Alix did. In the beginning she’d tried to blend in with her foster families, too, trying to prove she could be one of them, that she was worthy of love.

“It didn’t work,” Casey continued. “Everything I did was a disaster.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Alix was well aware of how hard Lydia had tried to make Casey feel welcome and part of their family.

“It is! ” Casey cried. “Last night I tried to surprise Lydia and make dinner and then the casserole boiled over and smoke was pouring out of the oven and the f ire alarm started beeping and dinner was ruined.” She said this in one giant breath.

“Did Brad or Lydia get upset?”

Casey shook her head. “Brad made a big joke of it. He said the f ire alarm should be called the dinner bell.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Alix smiled.

“And Cody thought it was cool ’cause we had to order pizza.”

“And Lydia?”

Casey glanced away. “Lydia…put her arm around me and said I shouldn’t worry about it. Then she showed me where she keeps the bigger casserole dish so if I wanted to try again I’d know which one to use.”

“So no one was upset with you.”

Casey jerked her head up. “I was upset with me,” she countered. “This was my way of thanking them and the whole dinner backf ired.”

The girl still looked upset; Alix understood that. Casey had wanted to do something nice and instead she’d revealed her incompetence. She was being unnecessarily hard on herself, which was a tendency Alix shared. She exaggerated every little thing that went wrong. At the moment Alix was sure Casey felt her whole life had been one mistake after another and everything she attempted was a disaster.

“That’s not all, either,” Casey said. “Lydia hired me to do small jobs at the store and she even paid me. She didn’t need to do that, but she did and then I goofed up really bad.”