Blossom Street. Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ Just so you know, Mel and Andrew have been dating for a year. Mel’s the head cheerleader and she’ll probably be Homecoming Queen. It’s perfect because Andrew’s for sure gonna be King.”

      “Perfect,” Courtney echoed. It was all so perfectly perfect. She didn’t understand how she could be deemed a threat to this perfect romance.

      As soon as she could, Courtney left and biked back to her grandmother’s. She felt a surprising sense of energy as she rode, although she was definitely out of sorts.

      “I have your lunch ready,” Grams told her when she walked into the kitchen. A bowl of soup waited on the table, along with a tray of sliced carrots and celery.

      “I’m not hungry,” Courtney snapped, stomping toward her bedroom.

      “Courtney Pulanski, there’s no need to get snippy with me,” her grandmother said sternly.

      Courtney was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Grams.”

      “What’s wrong?”

      Courtney shook her head, not knowing what to say. She could hardly even put words to what she felt. It was that familiar ache of loneliness, that sense of not fitting in. She missed her friends and her family and her old high school. More than anything in the world, she just wanted to go home.

      “Maybe you’re tired?” her grandmother suggested.

      A nap was her grandmother’s solution to just about every problem. That or a bowel movement. Rather than respond, Courtney continued up the stairs to her room.

      Once inside, she closed the door and logged onto the Internet. Her spirits lifted immediately when she saw an e-mail from her father. He sounded well, which was a huge relief. She felt a constant, nagging worry about him. She’d heard far too many stories about kidnappings in South America to be comfortable with her dad working there. She answered his e-mail right away and described the orientation class, exaggerating her enthusiasm for the start of school. Courtney didn’t want her father to be concerned about her, didn’t want to add to the burdens he already carried.

      After reading her other mail—from Julianna and two of her Chicago friends—she lay down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling, assessing her chances for success this year. At the moment everything seemed bleak.

      It was the way Melanie had looked at her, Courtney decided. Andrew’s girlfriend had given her the eye as she claimed possession of Andrew. She viewed Courtney as an unknown and unwelcome threat. Funny how much you could derive from a single look.

      Shelly, the friend, didn’t even pretend to be friendly. Their entire conversation had been an attempt to gain information so she could assure the perfect “Mel” that Courtney was a nobody.

      Courtney did wonder why Annie had never mentioned Melanie. Maybe she didn’t like her brother’s girlfriend. Or maybe it simply hadn’t occurred to her.

      “Do you want me to bring you your lunch?” her grandmother shouted from the foot of the stairs.

      Courtney reluctantly slid off the bed and stepped out into the hallway. “Grams, I told you, I’m not hungry.” And the last thing she wanted was for her grandmother to climb the stairs. Vera had made her feelings about that quite clear.

      “You should eat something.”

      “I will later.”

      Her grandmother’s face darkened. “I’m worried about you.”

      “I’m all right.”

      “Did someone upset you?”

      Courtney slowly came down the stairs, her hand on the railing. “It doesn’t matter.”

      Her grandmother looked as if she didn’t believe her.

      “Maybe I’ll have some soup, after all,” Courtney said, and Grams brightened.

      “I want to hear about your classes.” She bustled into the kitchen, with Courtney following.

      They sat at the table and chatted while Courtney ate her tomato soup and carrot sticks.

      “Leta thinks once you’re settled in school, you should join the swim team,” Courtney’s grandmother said in an encouraging voice. “We all agree you’re like greased lightning in the water.”

      Courtney hid a smile. She’d become a more skilled swimmer through the summer, but it wasn’t any wonder Grams thought she was fast, considering her competition was a group of eighty-year-olds.

      “Think about it,” Grams urged.

      “I will,” Courtney promised.

      29

      CHAPTER

      “You can do it. It’s only one stitch at a time.”

      —Myra Hansen, owner, Fancy Image Yarn, Shelton, WA. www.FancyImageYarn.com

       LYDIA HOFFMAN

      I was looking forward to my next sock class—although it was technically my last. Elise, Bethanne and Courtney had each completed one pair of socks using two circular needles and had already started on a second. Once again I was enthralled with the way three women, from dissimilar backgrounds, could be brought together by the simple enjoyment of knitting. I’d been a silent witness to it all, and marveled anew at how their lives had become entwined.

      Elise was the one who’d suggested Bethanne start her own party business, and Courtney had become a special friend to Bethanne’s daughter, Annie. Best of all, they’d become friends to each other. And to me …

      Margaret had been in good spirits ever since the worry of losing their home had been removed. I didn’t know what she’d told Matt about the money, but it didn’t matter. Not once had she brought up the subject of the ten thousand dollars, and frankly, I was relieved. I’d gladly make those loan payments and never say a word. My family had sacrificed so much for me through the years that it felt good to be giving something back. To Mom, who needed my time and attention more than ever, and to my sister.

      Elise arrived for class first, and I noticed the white Lincoln Continental parked in front of the shop with the distinguished older man sitting behind the wheel. I found her ex-husband’s devotion rather touching, and there was a certain reassurance in knowing that love can be renewed—not that I expected any such thing in my own life.

      I love Brad and Cody; time wouldn’t change that. Cody and I talked once or twice a week. He told me his dad said he could phone me anytime he wanted. He rarely mentioned his mother, as if he knew talking about Janice and his dad was painful to me. The only concrete information I’d learned was that his mom still had her own place. I figured that probably wouldn’t be for long.

      “Good morning, everyone,” Elise said. She positively glowed—there was no other word for it.

      I had to stop what I was doing and look again. “You’re in a good mood,” I commented.

      “My daughter said the same thing.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ