Summer on Blossom Street (Blossom Street #6)(99)

“Me?”

“Yes.” Casey bobbed her head. “We made them at day camp this summer and I want you to have it so you’ll remember me.”

Mom’s pleasure was undeniable as she reached for the bag.

“What could it be?” she asked pensively.

Casey knelt in front of her as she opened the plain brown sack. Inside was a photograph of Casey wearing a baseball cap, with her arm around Cody’s neck. They were smiling into the camera. The picture was set inside a plastic canvas frame into which Casey had woven blue and teal yarn.

To my utter amazement my mother blinked back tears. “How nice,” she whispered.

“It’s got a magnet on the back so you can stick it on your fridge,” Casey explained, turning it over so Mom could see. I don’t think she noticed how emotional my mother had become or, if she did, Casey chose to pretend otherwise. “Would you like me to put it on the fridge for you?”

Mom nodded. When Casey moved into the kitchen, Mom dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief she always tucked in her sweater pocket.

“That was a lovely thing to do,” I said, joining Casey in the kitchen. I put my arm around her shoulders but I could tell she didn’t want me touching her, so I quickly let go.

“You don’t mind that I gave it to Grandma Hoffman rather than you?” she asked a little anxiously.

I assured her I didn’t. “It’s a lovely photo and you can see how much it means to my mother.”

For the f irst time in what seemed like weeks Casey gave me a genuine smile. “I’m going to miss everyone… I think your mom’s so nice. And she’s funny. I never had a grandma before, and well…I wanted her to have something to remember me by.”

We didn’t stay much longer; it was getting close to Mom’s lunch and after that she’d nap for an hour or two. Once we got to the mall, our f irst stop was the Sears store, where I traditionally purchased Cody’s school clothes. I’d read their two-page advertisement that morning and noticed that all boys’ jeans were on sale.

“You should buy him this shirt, too,” Casey said, holding up an olive-green T-shirt with some monster character printed on the front.

Cody had been wearing mostly shirts in primary colors. He was long past the stage where he wanted to wear anything with Disney characters, but I wasn’t really familiar with any appropriate alternatives.

“He’d like that?” I asked.

“He’d love it,” Casey said conf idently.

“All right, then. Put it on the stack.”

Casey did and then glanced at another one.

“Do you see anything else he might like?”

She nodded. “Lots.”

“Are they on sale, too?”

Casey pointed at the sign. Fifty percent off. Together we chose three other shirts and one good pair of pants and a button-down shirt for church. She picked out a winter coat, although it wasn’t anything I would’ve selected.

Cody was growing like a well-watered plant and I suspected that by Christmas he’d need a size larger in jeans. Yet with so many sales and such reasonable prices, it was hard not to go overboard now. We paid for our purchases, and I suggested we go to the teen department to buy something for Casey.

Casey didn’t seem to like the idea. “Why?”

“You’re going to need new clothes for school, too,” I said.

“I’ll get my stuff later. Don’t worry about it.”

The attitude was back and I didn’t know why. “Casey, you don’t have to buy your clothes secondhand.”

Bored, she glanced away. “Whatever.”

“Let’s at least f ind you a pair of jeans, okay?”

Anyone looking at her disgruntled expression would think I was punishing her, and yet I knew she enjoyed shopping. While picking out clothes for Cody she’d been interested, even excited. She was good at it, too.

Despite her protests I managed to buy her one new pair of jeans. She rejected everything else. I didn’t understand it. As we ate at the food court I talked about how pleased my mother had been with her gift and gradually Casey’s mood started to improve. On the way back to the house we went to the local ice cream parlor, where I’d ordered the cake. By the time we returned home, the lawn had been mowed. Through my open window I breathed in the distinctive, pungent scent of fresh grass, which brought back immediate memories of childhood summers. When I’d parked, Casey carried in our purchases and I put the cake inside the garage freezer. Brad and Cody had gathered around the table as Casey proudly showed off our bargains. “Wow, this is cool,” Cody said, holding up the olive green T-shirt.

“Casey chose that for you,” I said, and we exchanged a smile.

“Take her shopping with you all the time, Mom.” Cody pulled off his old shirt and immediately slipped the new one over his head, muff ling his last few words.

Casey looked down at the f loor. “I won’t be here,” she said. Brad turned to me and then to Cody. We both nodded.

“Yes, you will,” Brad said softly.

Casey jerked her head up. “What do you mean?”

“We want you to live with us,” Cody blurted out. “Mom and Dad and I talked it over, and we want you to stay.”

Casey didn’t seem to believe him. “I can stay here as your foster kid?”