“What should we do?”

Sometimes I worried that making an emotional investment in Casey was a big mistake. At the end of the summer she’d be leaving us and we had to accept that, just as she did. But how could we not care about her?

Brad frowned. “Should I see if she’ll talk to me?” he asked. Since I hadn’t gotten anywhere, I didn’t think he would either, but that was no reason not to try. After all, Brad was the one who’d devoted hours to teaching her about fractions.

“Let me try,” Cody piped up. “Me and Chase,” he said in all seriousness.

Brad turned to me for my opinion and I gestured helplessly.

“It can’t hurt.”

“Okay, son,” Brad said. “See what you can do.”

Cody nodded. “Come, Chase,” he commanded. “Casey needs us.”

The two of them trotted down the hallway to Casey’s bedroom. Cody knocked, then opened the door and went inside. Brad and I waited. My fear was that Casey would scream at him and hurt his feelings. Without realizing it, I sat on the edge of my cushion, ready to hurry to his rescue if the need arose. Probably ten minutes passed, with each one feeling like a hundred. If Cody and Casey were talking, I couldn’t hear their voices. I strained to listen and heard nothing.

“What do you suppose is happening in there?” Brad asked. He looked as tense as I felt.

“I don’t have a clue.”

Finally, just when I was about to investigate on my own, Casey’s bedroom door opened. “Mom,” Cody yelled, as if I was in the basement instead of one room away. “Do we have any ice cream?” He made it sound like a call to 9-1-1.

“I believe so,” I said as calmly as I could.

“We need two bowls, okay?”

“Two bowls coming right up.”

He closed the door, then jerked it open again. “What about chocolate syrup?”

“Ah…I’ll check.”

Brad was on his feet, too. “I’ll make a quick run to the store if necessary.”

I was already in the kitchen, investigating the cupboard where I knew I’d f ind chocolate syrup if we had any. “Got it,” I called out triumphantly.

“Good.” Cody’s voice was relieved. “Hurry, okay?”

“In a minute,” I promised him.

Working together, Brad and I quickly prepared two heaping bowls of vanilla ice cream covered with chocolate syrup. When I f inished adding the chocolate, I asked, “Should I look for whipped topping?”

Brad shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Each of us carrying a bowl, we approached the closed bedroom door.

Brad knocked and turned the knob. We stepped inside, holding out the ice cream as though we’d come bearing gifts of gold and precious jewels.

Casey sat on the bed with her back to the wall. Cody was sitting there, too, and Chase lay between them. Casey’s hand was on his fur, which she stroked methodically, avoiding eye contact with either Brad or me.

“Thanks, Mom and Dad,” Cody said.

We’d been dismissed.

We went back to the living room, where I picked up my knitting and Brad turned on the TV. We were halfway through an episode of CSI: Miami when the bedroom door opened and Cody came out, holding two empty bowls.

“Everything all right in there?” Brad asked. Cody nodded. “Ice cream doesn’t cure anything,” he said sagely, “but it sure helps with the pain.” He brought the bowls to the kitchen.

“Who told him that?” Brad wondered.

I ventured a guess. “Either Margaret or Alix.”

“You hang around with wise women, my love,” he said with a grin.

I had to agree. “You in the mood for ice cream?” I asked.

“Why not? It seems to work.”

We smiled at each other. A crisis had been averted. After a while Casey came out of her room with her crochet hook and a skein of yarn under one arm. “I need help with this,”

she said, as if the events of this evening had never occurred.

“Okay.” I certainly wasn’t an expert at crocheting but I could read the directions. If not, I could always contact my sister. Casey sat on the sofa beside me. “I think I made a mistake here.” She held it out for me to examine.

I studied the washcloth she’d started and didn’t f ind anything wrong. “It looks f ine to me, Casey.”

“You’re sure?”

I shrugged. “You might want to have Margaret check it tomorrow.”

Her eyes f lew up to meet mine. “Can I come to the shop again? You don’t have to pay me.”

“I’ve got a whole list of things that need your attention and of course I’ll pay you.”

I could see she was pleased, although she tried to hide it.

“That would be okay, I guess.” I realized she didn’t want me to know how much she liked being at the yarn store. That attitude always caught me unawares. This fear of losing what she valued most. Wasn’t that exactly what Alix had warned me about?

She returned to her room, and I went to bed around ten, exhausted. All the melodrama of the evening had tired me out. I still didn’t know what Lee had said to Casey and most likely I never would. If she’d told Cody, he hadn’t indicated in any way. Curious though I was, I didn’t feel I could pry it out of him. That wasn’t the example I wanted to set. The phone rang just as Brad stepped out of the bathroom, dressed for bed. The sharp, unexpected sound startled us both. I reached for it quickly.

“Hello,” I said in a hushed voice.

“Lydia,” my sister boomed over the line. “It’s Mom.”

“What happened?” My mother’s declining health had been a major concern for more than a year now.

“I’m at the E.R. Mom fell.”

I gasped and reached out for Brad. He gripped my f ingers. “Is she hurt?”

“It’s her hip.”

“No.” Shivers raced down my spine.

“Thank God someone heard her.”

More than a year earlier, Mom had been diagnosed with diabetes and had to have her blood sugars carefully monitored. That had been the beginning of her health problems. The decline had been rapid since then.

“Is it broken?” I asked, fearing the worst.

“No, just a hairline fracture. She also hit her head pretty hard, but that seems to be okay.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I said. Brad freed my hand and I tossed aside the covers. My feet were already on the ground when Margaret stopped me.

“There’s no need. The tests are done. I didn’t feel there was any reason to phone you until we knew something def inite.”

“You should’ve called me earlier,” I cried, upset and relieved at the same time. I had a right to know about my own mother and yet…ignorance was bliss.

Guilt washed over me. I shouldn’t be thinking that. I loved my mother and was grateful Margaret had been there to handle the situation.

“The doctor wants to keep Mom overnight for observation. She needs her sleep and frankly,” Margaret said, sounding drained and emotionally depleted, “so do I.”

“Go home,” I advised. “Tell the hospital that if they need to contact anyone during the night, they should call me.”

Margaret hesitated, then reluctantly agreed. After she’d answered a few more questions, I replaced the receiver. Tears f lowed unrestrained down my face, blurring my vision. I worried about my mother, but I had no idea how to help her. Brad handed me a wad of tissues and I tried to explain what had happened.

“But she’s f ine, right?” Brad pressed.

I nodded. Mom was unaffected by this incident, as far as the physicians could tell, but I wasn’t. It was all too obvious that I was going to lose my mother.

In many ways I already had. Margaret and I were her caregivers now. We’d assumed the role of adults, and she’d become almost a child—dependent, passive, at the mercy of others. I worried that I’d somehow failed her.

When I wiped my eyes, I saw Cody and Casey standing in the doorway to our bedroom, watching me.

“What’s wrong?” Cody asked.

Before I could tell them, Casey offered me a tentative smile.

“I think Lydia needs some ice cream,” she said.

Chapter 25

Anne Marie Roche

Barbie’s house rang with laughter when Anne Marie arrived to drop Ellen off. Lillie, Barbie’s mother, answered the door, Hector at her side, and it was easy to see how much in love they were. How happy her friend was. Anne Marie felt only gratitude that Lillie had found love, but in some ways it was painful to watch, reminding her of what she’d lost. Still, she’d seen that falling in love again was possible—for Barbie and Mark, for Lillie and Hector. Maybe it was possible for her, too.

The big surprise in her own life had been meeting Tim. An even bigger surprise was the attraction she felt toward him. Life was f illed with the unexpected, and some of those events were happy ones.

“Come in, come in,” Lillie said, stepping aside to gesture them inside. They hugged, and Hector greeted her in his usual dignif ied manner.

“Maria, my grandniece, is with me,” he told Ellen, “and she’s eager to meet you. I hope you two can be friends.”

Ellen followed shyly and stood next to Anne Marie. “My mom has a date with Tim,” she announced. “It’s just the two of them, so he can kiss her in the dark.”

Anne Marie blushed, but before she could comment, Barbie bustled into the room.

“Oh, good. You’re here.” She wore an apron that suggested someone kiss the cook. Mark rolled out with her. He wasn’t the type of man who openly showed affection, but Ellen had won him over from the moment they met and she moved instantly to his side to hug him.

“Next time bring your date to the party,” Mark said as soon as he’d released Ellen.

“Will do,” Anne Marie promised. She crouched down so she was eye-to-eye with Ellen. “Barbie has my cell number. If you need me for anything you can call, okay?”

Ellen nodded.

“I’ll pick you up around ten.”

“Okay.” Ellen wrapped her thin arms around Anne Marie’s neck and squeezed tight. Then she raised her head and whispered,

“Kiss Tim for me.”

Anne Marie smiled. “I will,” she whispered back. Lillie walked Anne Marie out to her car. “I’m so glad to see you dating again,” she said. “My life changed when I met Hector. I look forward to each day, each minute, I have with him.”

Anne Marie wondered if Tim would be her Hector…. Because, just like Lillie, just like Barbie, she was ready to experience love again.

“I can’t recommend being in love highly enough,” Lillie said with a laugh. Hector stood in the doorway, waiting for her, and she stepped back as Anne Marie climbed into her car and started the engine. Pulling out of the driveway, she saw Hector join Lillie, sliding his arm around her waist and drawing her close. Oh, yes, Anne Marie was ready for love. Ready to share her love for Ellen with someone who cared for the child as much as she did.