Summer on Blossom Street

Chase, my stepson’s golden retriever, slept on the braided rug next to Cody’s bed. When I opened the bedroom door a crack, Chase—ever vigilant—raised his head. Seeing me, he lowered his head again.

All was well in the house and in my world. I had a new feeling of anticipation, a sense of excitement that stayed with me. It had begun the day I received a call from Evelyn Boyle regarding our approval as adoption candidates.

Just as I entered our bedroom, the phone rang.

“Good grief, who’d be calling after ten o’clock?” Brad asked as he set his book aside.

“I’ll get it.” I reached for the telephone on my bedstand, half expecting this had to do with my mother. “Hello,” I said tentatively.

“Oh, Lydia, it’s Evelyn Boyle. I apologize for contacting you this late.”

“Evelyn?” My gaze automatically sought out Brad’s. It didn’t seem possible that they’d have an infant for us so soon. Nevertheless my heart raced. “What can I do for you?”

“Listen, I wouldn’t ask if I had any alternative.”

“Ask what?”

“I have a foster child—a girl. It’s an emergency case and I need a home for Casey for two nights.”

This was the very thing Margaret had said would happen, the very thing she’d warned me about. “Two nights,” I repeated, the hesitation in my voice impossible to disguise.

“Casey is attending summer school and unless she finishes, she won’t be able to go on to the eighth grade in September. Sending her back to seventh grade would be a disaster. She’s only twelve and this is a difficult year for her.”

“I thought summer school just started.” A friend of Cody’s had gotten behind in math and was now attending a summer program that had recently begun and would go through the month of July.

“Well, yes, but if Casey can spend tonight and possibly tomorrow night with you, that’ll give me the necessary time to find her another long-term foster home.”

“I see.” I bit my lip, uncertain what to say.

“Two nights, Lydia. Just two nights. It would make a world of difference to Casey. She really can’t miss a single class.”

I looked at Brad. “I’ll need to discuss this with my husband.”

“Of course.”

“Can I call you right back?”

“Ah…I could stay on the line.”

“You’re sure this is only for a couple of nights?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, I’ll ask.” I held the receiver against my shoulder. “It’s Evelyn Boyle…. She has a twelve-year-old girl who needs a bed for the next two nights.”

“I take it she wants to bring the girl here?”

I nodded, ready to accept whatever Brad decided.

He seemed as hesitant as I felt. “I can’t imagine Evelyn would ask if she had any other option,” he said in a low voice.

“She told me Casey, that’s the girl’s name, is attending math classes at summer school and can’t afford to miss any or she won’t be able to advance to the eighth grade.”

Brad made the connection right away. “In other words, she needs to keep Casey in the same school district.”

“Exactly.”

Brad met my eyes. “What do you think?”

I shrugged, torn between generosity and fear. I wanted to help Evelyn, but I wasn’t the least bit prepared to deal with a twelve-year-old. Still, it would only be for a couple of nights. “I don’t suppose it would hurt.”

Brad nodded. “Tell her to bring Casey over.” He squeezed my hand. “I hope we know what we’re getting ourselves into,” he muttered.

“So do I.” I lifted the receiver to my ear. “Brad says we can take Casey for the next two nights.” I made sure Evelyn understood that we were willing to fill in, but just for the limited time she’d requested.

The social worker’s sigh of relief sounded over the phone. “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll be dropping Casey off in the next half hour.”

“I’ll wait up for her,” I promised. Thirty minutes would give me a chance to straighten the spare room and remake the bed. I’d need to put a few things away, too. The sewing machine was out because I’d repaired Cody’s jeans earlier that evening. In addition, there were plastic tubs of yarn and knitting projects I’d lost interest in for one reason or another. The closet was filled with clothes I planned to donate to charity and some items from before my marriage that I hadn’t figured out what to do with. The room had become a catch-all, a storage area for anything that didn’t have a firm place in our lives.

“Do you need any help?” Brad asked as I started toward the bedroom.

“I’m just going to put some stuff in the closet and move the sewing machine,” I explained. “It’s only for a couple of days,” I said again.

“Right.”

I could already hear Margaret’s loud “I told you so” the moment she heard about this. Well, nothing I could do about that. I refused to allow my sister’s ominous predictions to rule my life. I’d been asked to help out and I’d agreed. Nearly anyone would. It was part of the way we’d been raised, and I suspected that if Evelyn had called Margaret, my sister would’ve done exactly the same thing.

When I’d finished with the bed, I threw a robe over my nightgown, then joined Brad in the living room. The doorbell rang and he unlocked the front door with me right behind him. Chase immediately started scratching at Cody’s bedroom door, ready to protect us against an intruder. Brad left to deal with the dog as I let Evelyn and Casey into the house. The first thing I noticed was how small Casey was for her age. Her backpack, hooked over one arm, was almost bigger than she was.

Brad returned, clutching the dog’s collar as Chase whined eagerly, his nails scrabbling on the hardwood. “Chase, sit,” he said calmly, and Chase did.

“Lydia and Brad, this is Casey Marshall.”

The twelve-year-old refused to look at us. Instead she stared down at the floor.

“Hello, Casey,” Brad said. “Welcome to our home.”

“Welcome,” I echoed. “I’ll bet you’re exhausted. I’ve got the bed made up for you.”

Casey continued to stare at the floor.

“Casey,” Evelyn murmured, her arm loosely around the girl’s thin shoulders.

Reluctantly Casey looked up. Defiance flashed in her cool dark eyes. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected. Gratitude? Appreciation? Relief? If so, all three were sadly lacking in Casey’s expression and demeanor.

“Casey will walk to class in the morning,” Evelyn said. “She’s at Carver Middle School.”

“I’ll drive her,” I volunteered. “It’s on my way.”