Blossom Street (Books 1-10). Debbie Macomber
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have the car.” From his tone, taking the car had been a contentious issue.
Bethanne grinned. “All right, all right, you can have the car.”
Andrew got Courtney’s address and phone number, and promised to call later in the afternoon once he was off work.
Courtney was so excited she couldn’t bike home fast enough. Andrew was totally cool and cute and just the kind of guy she’d hoped to meet. The game was hours away but she had a thousand things to do first.
By the time Courtney got back to the house, her grandmother had lunch on the table. She grabbed an apple, bit off a huge chunk and raced up the stairs.
“Hey,” Grams shouted after her, “where are you headed?”
“I met someone. Bethanne’s son.” When Vera looked a little puzzled, she added, “Bethanne? From the knitting class?” Courtney took a deep breath. “I’m going to the Mariners’ game this evening.”
“That isn’t for hours yet.”
“I know,” she yelled from the top of the stairs, “but I need to shower and everything. Oh Grams, what should I wear?” Silly question. Grams was sweet, but she knew next to nothing about fashion. “Never mind,” Courtney said, “I’ll figure it out.”
After her shower, Courtney changed clothes about fifteen times, weighing herself with each outfit and then doing a complete and thorough evaluation in front of the mirror. In the end she decided on jeans and a white tank-top with a yellow flowered overshirt. She weighed more in this outfit than one of the others, but the yellow shirt made her eyes darker and set off her dark-brown hair. It was her best choice.
Andrew phoned at five and said he’d be by in thirty minutes to pick her up for the six o’clock game. Courtney didn’t want to appear too eager by waiting outside, but she didn’t want him to have to come inside and get her, either. This wasn’t like a date or anything. She compromised by watching for him out the living room window. As soon as he pulled up in front, she kissed her grandmother on the cheek and dashed out the door.
“Have a good time,” Grams called after her.
“I will.” This was so much better than sitting in her room or surfing the Internet for hours. And television in the summer was just plain bad.
Andrew leaned over and opened the passenger door for her. “Hi,” he said, again without a lot of enthusiasm.
“Hi! Thanks for including me.”
Courtney was already in the front seat before she realized someone else was in the car. “Hi,” she said, twisting around as she grabbed the seat belt.
“That’s Annie, my sister. She’ll be a junior this year. Annie, Courtney.”
Courtney’s automatic smile faded as she recognized Andrew’s sister. Annie was the girl from the swim team who’d been staring at Courtney and whispering with her friend. All she could do was hope that Annie didn’t recognize her with her clothes on. Apparently she didn’t, because she made no reference to that day at the pool.
“Andrew and Mom forced me into going to this game with him,” the girl muttered.
That was in case Courtney assumed Annie had joined them for the fun of it, she suspected.
“How long have you been in Seattle?” Andrew asked after casting his sister a hard look.
“A couple of weeks. I’m living with my grandmother.” Courtney talked about her dad’s work situation for a few minutes, and the importance of this Brazilian bridge. She said her brother was in graduate school and her sister in college and working in Alaska for the summer. She told them that she’d hated to leave Chicago and her friends. She was sure she’d given them more information than they wanted, but it was just so good to be with her own kind.
“Are your parents divorced?” Annie asked from the backseat.
Courtney went still. “My mom died in a car accident four years ago.”
“Bummer,” Andrew said sympathetically.
“Yeah.” All of a sudden, she didn’t have anything more to say and Andrew and Annie didn’t, either. The silence in the car seemed to vibrate.
“I wish Dad had died.” Annie spoke in a low voice.
“Don’t say that,” Andrew barked.
“I mean it!” Her anger was explosive.
“Our parents were recently divorced, but I suppose Mom mentioned that,” Andrew said by way of explanation.
“Just in the first class.” The other thing Courtney knew was that Bethanne needed to find a job.
“Our father’s a jerk!” Annie said in a near-shout.
“My sister didn’t take it well,” Andrew added under his breath.
“I can hear you,” Annie snorted from the backseat.
They parked on a side street and climbed out of the car. Annie stared at her and Courtney held her breath, praying the other girl had forgetten where she’d seen her. No such luck.
“I know you,” Annie said, eyeing her.
Courtney’s heart fell. “Maybe you saw me when your mother came to knitting class,” she suggested hopefully, but a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to go away.
“I know,” Annie said triumphantly. “You were at the swimming pool, weren’t you? The early-morning session with all the old ladies.” Then she leaned close and said in a loud stage whisper, “You don’t need to worry about running into me again. I quit the team last week. Mom doesn’t know yet and Andrew won’t tell her because we have a deal.”
Andrew’s gaze narrowed on his sister.
“He wanted to be sure I came along when he took you to the game,” Annie gleefully reported. “He was afraid his girlfriend would find out.”
“Shut up, would you,” Andrew snapped at Annie. He threw Courtney an apologetic glance.
“It’s not a problem,” she assured him, and it wasn’t.
14
CHAPTER
“There’s magic in pulling loops through loops, whether between the limbs of a knitted tree house, or shaped to fit the geography of a foot.”
—Cat Bordhi, author of Socks Soar on Two Circular Needles, A Treasury of Magical Knitting & Second Treasury of Magical Knitting. www.catbordhi.com
LYDIA HOFFMAN
I could hardly wait for Brad to make his neighborhood deliveries and come to the store. I’ve read my share of romance novels, so I can say with authority that if ever there was a romantic hero, it’s Brad. Because I’ve lived with cancer from the time I was sixteen, I’ve been absorbed by threats and fears. But despite my terrible scare last year, my life had never been better and for someone like me that’s a little frightening—as though feeling confident and happy is testing fate, somehow.
I think I mentioned that Dr. Wilson found something on a routine checkup and I was convinced the cancer was back. My attitude was fatalistic. It was during this time that I broke up with Brad. Without giving him a reason, I shoved him out of my life with the flimsiest of excuses. He didn’t walk away easily. I loved how he fought for me, how he stood by me until I made it too painful for him to stay. Then, naturally, I learned I was fine, but at that point, I couldn’t blame Brad for not wanting anything more to do with me. Thankfully he was willing to listen when I came to my senses. Once again, I had Margaret to thank; without her encouragement I don’t know what would’ve happened. That was all in the past now, and I felt so grateful to have Brad in my life.
On the phone the night before, he and I had talked about our Fourth of July plans.