Starting Now (12 page)

Her cell chirped and she retrieved it from her purse. It was Robin.

“So did you talk to Lydia?”

“I did.”

“How did it go?”

Libby wasn’t sure what to say. It’d been horrible. She hurt for her friend and felt responsible even though she’d tried her best to help. “She was shocked, of course.”

“I’m sure she was.”

“She’s going to talk to her husband first and then to Casey.”

“You did the right thing,” Robin assured her.

Libby believed that, too, which made her appreciate how difficult it’d been for Phillip to seek her out.

Even more depressed than usual, Libby sat down in front of her computer and checked the job sites she’d been searching. She didn’t know why she bothered.

Her cell rang again. She checked the caller ID and saw that it was Sarah. They hadn’t talked in a couple of weeks now. Libby wasn’t sure she was up to chatting.

Their conversations had grown shorter as the months had passed. Outside the office they had little in common. Libby felt compelled to put on a good front, convincing both Sarah and herself that it was just a matter of days before she found another position. It was becoming more and more difficult to continue the lie.

She answered on the fourth ring just before the call went to voice mail.

“Hello.”

“Libby,” Sarah whispered as if she feared being overheard. “Mrs. Reed was in this afternoon.”

Martha Reed. Libby had worked extensively on setting up the older woman’s estate, creating a number of trusts. She liked and admired Mrs. Reed.

“She’s not happy,” Sarah continued, keeping her voice low. “I heard her complaining to Hershel. She asked about you and said Ben Holmes isn’t half the attorney you are. She said she’s thinking of moving her business.”

“She said that?” Libby instantly perked up.

“She doesn’t like Ben working on her foundation business.”

“What did Hershel say?” Libby was all ears. This was the first bit of encouraging news she’d had in weeks.

“Just that she was one of the firm’s most important clients and he would do whatever it took to make Mrs. Reed happy.”

Libby sincerely hoped that meant he would consider hiring her back.

At one time she would have taken a great deal of pleasure in turning him down, refusing him and walking away with her head held high. That was then, and this was almost five months post employment. If Hershel were to phone she’d swallow her pride, sincerely thank him, and show up chipper and happy with her briefcase in hand.

Lydia Goetz couldn’t hold still. The conversation with Libby Morgan had upset her terribly, and while she tried to hide it from Margaret, her sister knew something was drastically wrong. She tried several times to get Lydia to talk, but she remained tight-lipped and agitated the rest of the afternoon.

Casey pregnant? She couldn’t stop thinking about what that would mean to their family, and how she and Brad would deal with the situation. When they’d decided to adopt Casey they’d accepted that this wouldn’t be a smooth road. While their daughter was thrilled to be part of a family, she continued to have issues, but this was far and away more than either Lydia or Brad had expected. Pregnant at such a young age. It just didn’t seem possible, and yet …

At home it didn’t take Brad long to discern that something or someone had deeply distressed Lydia. No more than ten minutes after she walked in the door, Brad asked, “What’s up?” He followed her
into the kitchen and leaned against the doorjamb with his arms folded.

“We need to talk,” she whispered for fear he would hear the tremble in her voice. She removed the roast cooking in the Crock-Pot and placed it on a serving dish, and then grabbed hold of the counter, afraid she was about to burst into tears.

“Okay, when?”

“Not now. After we eat.”

“You sure you want to wait that long?” he asked.

Fearing she might break into tears if she answered, Lydia nodded.

Mealtime was a miserable affair. All through dinner, Lydia could barely look at Casey. Her mood seemed to be contagious. She caught Cody and Casey exchanging looks. Cody shrugged as if to say he didn’t know what was wrong. Casey didn’t say a word after the first few minutes. When the teenager finished her meal, she helped with the dishes and then quickly retired to her bedroom.

“What’s up with everyone?” Cody asked after Casey left the room.

“Nothing,” Brad told him.

“Why do parents always say that?” the youth muttered under his breath. He shook his head and then went outside to play baseball with his friends.

As soon as Cody was out the door, Brad turned to Lydia. “All right, what gives?”

Lydia sat across from her husband and covered her face with both hands, unsure if she could get through this.

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

“Then let’s deal with it together.” Brad reached for her hand and gave her fingers a squeeze. “Is it … did you get a report from the doctor you’re not telling me about?”

It was only natural her husband would assume this distress was related to her problems with cancer. Twice she’d been treated for cancerous brain tumors. Treated. The word discounted the torment she’d endured. Her first go-round took place when she was only sixteen.
The tumors returned again later when she was in her early twenties. Lydia had nearly died both times.

Although she’d been cancer-free for almost fifteen years, there was always the fear that the tumors would return. Lydia had learned far earlier than most people do that life holds few guarantees. Every day was a precious gift. She’d opened the yarn store as an affirmation of life, determined not to allow fear to dominate whatever time she had left.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with cancer,” she assured him.

The relief in his eyes spoke of his deep love and concern.

“I … I had a customer come in this morning first thing. I might have mentioned her. She’s the attorney who has been unemployed for a few months now.”

“The one who knit like thirty preemie caps over one weekend?”

Smiling briefly, Lydia nodded. “That’s the one. Her name is Libby. She went with Casey and Ava to drop off the donation from the knitters to Seattle General.”

Brad’s brow furrowed. “I think I remember you telling me about that.”

“The girls were perfectly capable of going on their own but I was grateful to have an adult with them.” Lydia paused and bit into her lower lip. “While they were at the hospital Libby met a doctor she knows from the gym where she works out. He asked to speak to Libby privately afterward.”

“And what did he say?”

She looked down at her hands, which were clenched together so tightly that her nail beds were white. “He assumed one of the girls was her daughter and … and he felt it was important to tell Libby that he suspects one of them is … pregnant.” Lydia could barely get the last word out of her mouth.

Brad bolted up off his chair, knocking it over. “You’ve got to be joking.” His shocked, disbelieving reaction mirrored her own.

“I wish I was.”

Brad’s gaze narrowed. “How would he know?”

“I don’t know … but he is a physician. He wasn’t sure, but he was
concerned enough that he felt he should mention it. His fear was that the teen didn’t even realize she was … pregnant.” Again she nearly stumbled over the word.

Brad picked up his chair and sat down again, wiping his hand across his face as if he needed time to assimilate what she’d told him. It had taken a few minutes for Lydia to understand the ramifications of this news, too. His eyes flickered about the room as though searching out something to focus on that would help him digest this situation.

“Could it be … Casey?” he asked after several tense moments. Clearly he didn’t want to believe it any more than she did.

“We don’t know everything she does,” she reminded him. They had yet to learn where Casey had been going when they found her sneaking out of the house at midnight.

“You had the … talk with her, right?”

Lydia nodded. It had been uncomfortable because Casey probably knew more about the subject of sex than Lydia did. The kid had seen more in her thirteen years than Lydia had in a lifetime. Casey had been patient and had even asked a couple of questions after Lydia had explained the basic facts of life to her.

To her chagrin, Lydia hadn’t brought up the subject of disease or teenage pregnancy. She’d figured that a little information was better than none and she could fill in the gaps later … as it turned out, she might have been too late.

“It could be Ava,” Lydia offered, and immediately felt bad for wishing it was the other girl rather than her own daughter. Casey’s motherless friend was shy and vulnerable. Lydia had been pleased when Casey befriended her and brought her to the yarn shop. Ava and her older brother were left alone all day while their grandmother waited tables at a local cafe. And at the end of her shift she apparently didn’t feel any compulsion to hurry home. From what Ava said, her grandmother spent part of each night in a neighborhood tavern, leaving Ava and her brother to their own devices.

Brad squared his shoulders and said, “We need to talk to Casey.”

Lydia agreed.

“You can talk to me now.” Casey stood in the doorway leading to the kitchen. Her face was blank and her eyes were focused on the floor.

“Come sit with us,” Lydia said. She stood and wrapped her arm around her daughter.

Casey shrugged her off and moved to the chair at the far end of the table. She lowered her head and looked down, avoiding eye contact. “I know what this is about,” she said.

Brad and Lydia exchanged looks.

“You want to get rid of me, right? Send me back to foster care.”

Lydia gasped. “Casey, no, never.”

“What would make you even think such a thing?” Brad demanded angrily. “You’re our daughter. We brought you into our family and that’s for good.”

“Casey, don’t you know how much we love you?” Lydia asked, because clearly she didn’t.

Casey’s shoulders started to shake and tears fell from her eyes, splashing onto the tabletop. Irritated, she wiped them away as though the weakness embarrassed her. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I thought you wanted me to leave.”

Casey so rarely cried that when Lydia saw how upset her daughter was tears formed in her own eyes. She stood and wrapped her arms around Casey’s shoulders. Leaning down, she pressed her head next to Casey’s, hands on her shoulders, and together the two of them sobbed.

It wasn’t long before Brad joined them, wrapping his arms around the two of them. He left momentarily and returned with a box of tissues.

Lydia blew her nose and so did Casey.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Lydia sat back down and scooted her chair closer to Casey and then reached for her hand. “You need to know something important,” Lydia whispered. “Brad, Cody, and I asked you to be part of our family. We made this decision together because we realized that this is where you belong. You are our daughter and nothing could ever change that.”

“What … what if I did something terrible?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Lydia repeated. “No matter what it is, we’ll deal with it together as a family. You need to understand that while I might not have given birth to you physically, you are a part of me. A part of my heart.”

Casey sniffled again.

“Don’t even think that your mother and I would make you go back into foster care,” Brad said. “It’s not going to happen.”

“I might rebel when I get older. Lots of kids do.”

“We might not always agree, Casey, but whether you share our views or not you will always remain our daughter.”

“Always and forever,” Lydia reiterated. “We’re a family.”

Casey blinked as if the concept was beyond anything she had ever imagined. “You will always love me … no matter what I do?”

Lydia heard the skepticism in her daughter’s question. “Parents love their children. We might not always approve of the things you do, we might not like your friends, and cringe at some of the choices you make, but that doesn’t change our love.”

“You’ll love me no matter what?”

Brad looked to Lydia and then answered. “No matter what.”

Casey frowned as if she found that difficult to believe. “You love me as much as Cody?”

“Without question,” Lydia said.

Casey relaxed against the back of the chair. “Wow.”

They gave her a few moments to let their words soak in before continuing the conversation.

Brad broke the silence. “Can you tell us where you were going the other night when you tried to sneak out?” he asked.

Casey stared down at the table. “I’d rather not. It wasn’t bad, though, I promise.”

Lydia felt she had to trust her daughter.

“We need to ask you something,” Brad said. He, too, had nudged his chair closer to their daughter.

Casey’s hand tightened around Lydia’s.

“Okay,” she said, looking and sounding unsure. She wiped her index finger across her upper lip and sniffled.

Lydia handed her another tissue.

“Your mother talked to a friend today,” Brad said. “She was with you and Ava when you went to the hospital.”