Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(94)

“How?”

It didn’t seem possible that Casey’s shoulders could droop any lower, but they did. “Lydia asked me to put price stickers on a shipment of yarn. There were two different kinds of yarn and I accidentally switched the prices, so the expensive yarn was priced really low. As soon as I got it on the shelf, a lady came in and bought every skein and said Lydia had to give her the price I put on.”

“Did Lydia do it?”

Casey nodded.

Alix would bet Margaret had something to say about that.

“I told Lydia I’d pay her back but she said it wasn’t that big a deal. It was, though, and she lost a lot of money because I was careless.”

“Casey,” Alix said, “everyone makes mistakes. I made a big one this morning at the café and my employer had an excellent excuse to let me go.”

“What did you do that was so bad?” she asked as though it couldn’t possibly have been as bad as what she’d done. Alix wasn’t keen on proclaiming her stupidity. “I forgot the sugar in the cinnamon rolls. I bake them practically every morning and today I just left it out and the whole batch was ruined.”

“Did everyone get mad?”

“No, but those ingredients cost money, and then there’s also the time involved. Ms. Adams could’ve f ired me, with good reason.”

“She didn’t though, right?”

“No, she didn’t, and I’m grateful.”

Casey sat up a little straighter. “So, like you said, everyone makes mistakes?”

“Yeah. What’s important is the lessons we learn from them. You were telling me Lydia showed you where she kept the larger casserole dish so you’d know which one to use next time.”

“Yeah.”

“So when you decide to cook again, you’ll use the bigger dish.”

“Of course.”

“See? Lesson learned.”

Casey gave her a wry smile and shrugged. “Besides, I don’t like cleaning ovens. It’s hard work, even if the oven’s supposed to be self-cleaning.”

“Which is precisely my point,” Alix said. “Jordan always says that failure offers us an opportunity to learn and to grow.” She grinned. “The trick is not to make the same mistake twice.” From experience, including that week’s baking calamities, Alix knew it was a lot easier said than done.

Casey brightened. “If I ever put price stickers on yarn again, I’ll double-check to make sure the right price is on the right skein.”

Alix patted the other girl’s shoulder. “Exactly. See what I mean?”

“Cody makes mistakes, too. Only they aren’t as big as mine.”

Casey said with a half smile.

“That’s because he’s younger than you. The mistakes get bigger as we get older.”

“That makes sense,” Casey agreed. “Breaking a glass when he’s setting the table isn’t as bad as ruining a whole dinner.”

“You’re pretty smart for a kid,” Alix teased. Gripping the chain with both hands, Casey started to swing higher. “I feel better.”

“Good.” For that matter, so did Alix.

“I bet you’ll make a great mom.”

Great mom. Great mom. The words repeated themselves in Alix’s mind like a chant—or a prayer. “You think so?” she asked, unable to disguise her uncertainty.

“Yeah.” Casey pushed herself higher on the swing. “Lydia told me you’re quitting cigarettes so you and Jordan can get pregnant.”

Unable to respond because of the lump clogging her throat, Alix simply nodded.

“Thank you,” she whispered when she could speak again. Agreat mom. Casey couldn’t have known how profoundly those words had affected her.

Their short conversation was the turning point in Alix’s day. When she returned to work, she went to see Winter immediately.

“Yes?” her employer asked, looking up from her computer.

“I wanted to thank you for letting me keep my job,” Alix said.

“I love working here and I’m grateful that you’re willing to forgive my crappy mood.”

Winter smiled. “You’re welcome, Alix. Except for this week, you’ve been a wonderful employee.”

“That’s not going to change,” Alix told her fervently. That afternoon, Alix could hardly wait to get home. On the bus ride, she tapped her foot nervously, the events of the afternoon tumbling through her mind. Once she got to the lake house, she picked fresh lettuce from their small garden patch and made a Cobb salad, a favorite of Jordan’s. When she’d f inished preparing the salad, she put it in the refrigerator, then set the table outside. After that, she lay in the hammock with a book and fell asleep in the late-afternoon sunshine, waiting for Jordan.

The sound of the front door opening woke her. For a moment she was disoriented and then she knew—her husband was home.

“Alix?” Jordan called out.

“Jordan!” Alix rushed into the house toward him, catapulting herself into his arms. Before he could say a word, she spread eager kisses across his face, her lips moving from his eyes and cheeks and nose before settling on his lips.

Jordan grabbed her by the waist and staggered backward until he was leaning against the kitchen wall.