“Back then, mental health care was… well, let’s just say it’s understandable why she refused to go with them. Aunt Ivy later told our grandmother, Charles’s wife, that was the only time she’d ever heard Aunt Sylvia raise her voice. She insisted, ‘I can’t leave. My son needs me. Now, please get out of this house.’ Zoey chuckled to herself; only her docile great-aunt would say “please” when she was telling someone off. “Aunt Ivy handed her the baby and then she escorted the police to the door while Aunt Sylvia took Marcus Jr. to his room and rocked him back to sleep.”
“So she bonded with him after all?”
“Are you kidding me? She adored him. Just like Aunt Ivy did. Some people—like our grandfather—said they overdid it. They said the two of them spoiled him rotten and they were probably right. But doting on the baby helped them through their grief. Aunt Ivy once told me that taking care of her brother’s son made her feel as if she was taking care of him, in a way. She said it gave her a reason to get up in the morning… I also think they pampered Marcus Jr. because they felt so guilty.”
“Guilty? Gabi sat up straighter. “About what?”
“Well, even though it was an accident, Denny was technically at fault. Aunt Ivy felt horrible about that, especially because she had convinced Aunt Sylvia that Marcus would be fine on the boat. Instead, he ended up leaving his wife a widow and his son fatherless. As for Aunt Sylvia, I don’t think she ever forgave herself for neglecting the baby right after he was born. It’s almost as if they both believed—mistakenly—that they’d ruined his life. So they kept trying to make it up to him.”
“That must be why Aunt Ivy spoils Mark, too. Because he’s Marcus Jr.’s son.”
Zoey hadn’t realized that Gabi had picked up on the dynamic between their aunt and cousin. Ordinarily, she’d be careful not to criticize Mark in front of Gabi but since the girl was so perceptive anyway, Zoey felt she could level with her. “Yes, I suppose that’s part of it. I mean, Mark isn’t shy about getting what he wants, regardless. But how Aunt Sylvia and Aunt Ivy have always treated him is definitely an extension of how they treated his father. And once Marcus Jr. died, they lavished Mark with even more attention and… and with other things, too.”
Zoey intended to leave it at that, but Gabi asked, “Like with making him the beneficiary of the house?”
“How do you know about his inheritance?” It wasn’t a secret but Zoey couldn’t imagine anyone discussing it with Gabi. Even if Scott knew and remembered, he would have thought she was too young to be privy to that kind of information. And Ivy rarely talked about the will.
“I heard Mark telling someone on the phone—I wasn’t being nosy. He made the call right in front of me and he was talking really loud.”
Now who is he trying to impress? Zoey wondered. “It’s true he’ll inherit the house some day, but Aunt Ivy had nothing to do with that. It was her father’s decision.” She explained that Thomas’s ironclad will designated the eldest Winslow blood relative as sole beneficiary of the house, for generations to come. Whatever was left over from Ivy’s trust fund, however, would be divided among all of her living blood relatives, meaning Mark, Zoey and Gabi.
Gabi was thoughtful as she slowly drizzled sand onto her kneecaps, one at a time. “You mean if Mark wasn’t in the family and Aunt Ivy passed away, you’d inherit the house?”
“Yeah, I’d be next in line. And then you.” Zoey swatted a bee away from her niece. She comforted her, “Don’t worry. Neither Mark nor I intend to die any time soon. Nor does Aunt Ivy, for that matter.”
“No, I don’t mean if Mark dies. I meant if he was never really in the family.”
Zoey cocked her head, puzzling over her niece’s peculiar question. “What do you mean by never really in the family?”
“Like, if Aunt Sylvia had a lover and Marcus Jr. was the lover’s baby, not Marcus’s. Because that would mean Mark isn’t related to Aunt Ivy by blood, either.”
“Is that what the students at your school are saying?” Zoey asked. “I can’t imagine Aunt Sylvia even using the word lover, much less, having one. ”
“But you haven’t heard the theory yet. It totally fits with what you just told me.”
Zoey sighed. “All right. Go ahead and tell me. I’ll try to keep an open mind.”
“One of the kids said everyone in Aunt Sylvia’s generation knew she never loved Marcus—that she just married him for his money,” she chattered breathlessly. “She got pregnant by someone else and she planned to wait a while and then get divorced so her husband would have to pay her alimony. When she saved enough, she was going to run off with her lover, who was very poor, like her.”
Zoey winced. Gabi is so gullible. No wonder Kathleen’s worried about her being easily influenced, she thought. If she’s not careful, she’ll wind up like me—letting some smooth-talking guy drain her savings.
The teenager prattled on, “Except Marcus spent every penny he had buying a boat and when he was lost at sea—well, technically his boat crashed—he left her destitute, which is essentially what happened, right? This boy said Aunt Sylvia felt so guilty, she couldn’t even look at her baby, and that’s exactly the same as what you just told me. She couldn’t stand the sight of her lover any more, either, so she completely ignored him. And since he didn’t want to disgrace her and he couldn’t afford to support a family anyway, he never told anyone the baby was his.” Gabi concluded melodramatically, “But he was so heartbroken, he’d walk past the house every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of her and his son. Eventually, he grew so bitter, he could hardly eat or speak or sleep.”
“Hmm.” Part of Zoey found all the gossip amusing, but another part of her was hurt on her aunt Sylvia’s behalf. She would have hated to know she was the subject of any gossip, and Gabi’s casual attitude and dramatization of real people’s pain—even if it was all made up or just teenage chatter—caused Zoey’s to wince. “Did your classmate offer any theories about who Marcus Jr.’s real father was?”
“Yes,” Gabi answered triumphantly. “He said it was Mr. Witherell.”
The tiny hairs on Zoey’s forearm stood on end as she instantly recalled the exchange between the old man and Mark on the day of Aunt Sylvia’s funeral.
“Who do you think you are?”
“I’m Marcus Winslow the Third.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Zoey scoffed, more to herself than to her niece. Mr. Witherell was undoubtedly aware of the rumor that he’d fathered Marcus Jr. and he would have known Mark had heard the same gossip. He was just capitalizing on it to provoke the younger man’s ire because Mark had insulted him. Mr. Witherell wasn’t seriously indicating he was his father. What purpose would that have served? “It’s completely illogical.”
“No, it isn’t. Even Aunt Ivy said he carried a torch for Aunt Sylvia, remember? And Mr. Witherell still walks by her house every day.”
“Mr. Witherell walks by a lot of peoples’ houses every day. It doesn’t mean anything,” Zoey reasoned. “Besides, why would he still try to catch a glimpse of Aunt Sylvia? He knows she’s not here any longer—he came to her funeral.”
“See? That’s even more evidence of his devotion.” Gabi’s eyes were shining. “Plus, he fits the profile—he hardly ever speaks. That’s because when he lost the love of his life, he also lost his voice.”
The notion was so ludicrous Zoey would have laughed but she was too disturbed by her niece’s naivete. “You’ve got it backwards, Gab. He doesn’t fit the profile—the profile fits him. Don’t you see? That’s why gossip like this can be so convincing.”
“But the boy at school swore that if his grandfather was alive, he could prove it because he was friends with Mr. Witherell. And he saw a photo of Aunt Sylvia that Mr. Witherell still keeps in his house beside his bed,” Gabi insisted. “We could ask him if it’s true and—”
“Ask Mr. Witherell? No way. We are not doing that.”
“But you said he wouldn’
t hurt a fly.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” Gabi challenged. Kathleen had warned Zoey how flippant she could be, but until this instant, Zoey hadn’t seen any real evidence of it.
“The point is we don’t know him and that’s an intrusive, offensive question.” And he’ll think you’re even more audacious than your cousin Mark is.
“Fine.” Gabi harrumphed. “I’ll ask Aunt Ivy about it, then.”
Zoey leaped to her feet. Clapping sand off the seat of her pants, she said, “You promised you wouldn’t mention this subject to Aunt Ivy and I expect you to keep your word.”
Gabi didn’t budge. Shielding her eyes with her hand, she peered at Zoey and argued, “But this is a different subject. It’s—”
“Don’t split hairs. I know you can’t remember Aunt Sylvia well, but she wasn’t anything like what your classmates described and it’s unfair to say things like that about someone who isn’t alive to defend herself.” Zoey picked up her shoes and started walking. Then she twirled around and admonished, “You can’t be vulnerable to every suggestion someone makes, Gabi. You have to start learning to think things through for yourself. Like have you considered how Aunt Ivy would feel if you suggested her sister-in-law was only using her brother for his money? Or that Aunt Sylvia had been deceiving her all these years about Marcus Jr.? Even though it’s utterly preposterous, I can’t fathom why you’d want to hurt your aunt by planting ideas like that in her head!”
Gabi’s face went red and a frown gnarled her mouth. She faltered at first, but then her words came out in a rush. “Be-because if… if Mark isn’t really a blood relative and Aunt Ivy dies, you’ll inherit the house and then you won’t have to worry about subletting your townhome and earning back all the savings you lost.” Tears bounded down her cheeks and she brought her legs to her chest and tucked her head behind her knees.
I am such an idiot. Zoey plopped back down in the sand and wrapped her arm around Gabi as she wept. “Sh-shh-shh.”
It was the same sound Zoey used to make when her niece had colic as a baby. When Jessica, desperate for sleep, would drive to the library and take a nap in the car as Zoey spent her lunch hour pacing the parking lot and jiggling the stroller in an attempt to soothe Gabi.
As it did then, it took a while today for her niece to grow quiet. When she did, Zoey said, “I appreciate it that you’re concerned about me, Gabi. But my financial situation is too much of a burden for you to think about—not because it’s so bad, but because it’s my problem, not yours. Besides, I promise you, I’m fine. I’ve got lots of resources and if I felt desperate, I’d take any job I could get. But right now, my priority is staying with Aunt Ivy and making sure she’s all right. I consider myself very fortunate to be in a position that allows me to do that.”
Gabi’s voice was muffled, her face still buried in her knees. “Then why are you so upset that Mark’s going to inherit the house?”
Is that what he’s been saying? Or is that how I’ve been behaving? Fingering a strand of her niece’s silken hair, Zoey replied, “I love Aunt Ivy’s home and I’ve often daydreamed about what it would be like to live on Dune Island permanently. And for some reason—maybe because Aunt Ivy and Aunt Sylvia lived alone in the house for so many years—I think of it as a woman’s house. Or as a place for family, not a place for strangers to lease. But since there’s no getting around the will, I decided a long time ago I’d better come to terms with it.
“Besides, how could I begrudge Mark his inheritance when Aunt Ivy has been so generous to me? She’s shared her home with me every summer—and whenever else I’ve wanted to visit. She’s welcomed my friends and my boyfriends to Dune Island, too. Not to mention, my entire family, including you. Being able to come here has been one the best gifts I’ve ever received.” Zoey’s eyes smarted. “So I promise you, I’m not upset Mark will eventually inherit the house. However, I’d hate to see him push Aunt Ivy out before she’s ready to leave.”
Gabi sniffed. “You don’t want him to remodel her kitchen, either, do you?”
“Not unless that’s what Aunt Ivy wants.”
“I hope she doesn’t.” Gabi lifted her head. “I like it.”
“Seriously? I actually agree with Mark on this one—I think it’s awful.”
“It may be ugly but it’s retro, so that makes it kind of cool.”
“Hmm, I wasn’t born all that long after those cupboards were installed. I wonder if that’s what people say about me, too. ‘She’s retro, so that makes her kind of cool.’”
“At least you’re not as old as the wallpaper in the best room. Now that’s hideous. It looks like a scary museum in there.” Gabi stood and pulled her aunt to her feet. Before she let go of her hand, she said, “I promise not to tell anyone anything we talked about, Aunt Zoey.”
“I know. I trust you.”
When they got home, Zoey was pleased to discover her aunt still in bed, faintly snoring. The past three nights when Zoey had gotten up to fill a glass with water, she’d noticed Ivy’s light was on. Each time she’d gone into her room and stayed with her for at least an hour while Ivy wept, reminiscing about Sylvia. Since the older woman hadn’t been getting enough sleep, even though it was almost five o’clock, Zoey decided she’d let her nap a little longer.
“Are we having salad again for supper?” Gabi asked when she came back downstairs.
“Why, is there something else you’d rather eat?”
“Anything that’s warm.”
“We can’t use the stove, remember?”
“I know how to make healthy microwave mac and cheese. All I need is cauliflower, cheese and cream.”
“And a microwave.” Zoey chuckled. “In case you didn’t notice, Aunt Ivy doesn’t have one.”
Gabi’s eyes darted around the room. “I guess that makes sense. They probably weren’t invented yet the last time Aunt Ivy renovated, were they?”
Zoey was about to reply when someone knocked on the back door. She hurried to get it so the rapping wouldn’t wake her aunt.
“Hi, Zoey,” Nick said. A kid who could have passed for his taller, thinner twin stood beside him. “I need to double check a couple of specs for the stove and my son has some mulch to unload in the back yard. He can also put the screens in like we talked about. Aidan, this is Ms.—sorry, I don’t know your last name.”
“Hi, Aidan. My last name is Jansen but please call me Zoey.” Her niece’s remark about the invention of the microwave had already made her feel outdated. If Nick’s son called her Ms. Jansen, she’d feel downright ancient. Now I understand why Aunt Ivy doesn’t want Nick calling her Mrs. Winslow.
She gestured for them to follow her into the kitchen. “Go ahead and take a look at the range. But my aunt is napping and the screens are in the attic. I’d prefer that you didn’t go up there. You might wake her and she really needs her rest.”
“No problem. I can come back another time,” Aidan amicably agreed. He stopped short when he spotted Gabi standing on her tiptoes, reaching into a cupboard. “Hi. I’ve seen you at school but we haven’t met. I’m Aidan.”
Gabi lowered her arm and Zoey noticed she smiled without showing her braces—was she trying to disguise her age? Aidan was probably one of the few really tall boys on the island and he was undeniably cute. “I think I’ve seen you, too. I’m Gabi.”
“You play the flute, right? I showed a clip of your performance to your aunts once. It sounded really good.”
“Thanks.”
Is she blushing or did she get sunburned at the beach? Zoey wondered.
Nick cleared his throat. “Hi, Gabi. I’m Nick, Aidan’s father. I’m installing your Aunt Ivy’s new stove for her.”
“Oh, good. Now we don’t have to have salad and sandwiches for supper again.”
“Uh, sorry to get your hopes up. I didn’t mean I’m installing it now. I meant once it’s delivered.” Nick turned to face Zoey. “You do know you can use this range until the new one g
ets here, don’t you?”
“But you told us it wasn’t safe.”
“I said it had several things that needed repair or replacement. Things that could be hazardous sometime down the road if they went unchecked,” Nick reiterated. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have left the stove hooked up if I thought it posed a danger to you or your aunt. And I definitely wouldn’t have allowed you to make breakfast on it, either, no matter how much I wanted an omelet made from freshly gathered eggs.”
A smile wrinkled his skin but Zoey was flabbergasted. Had she really been worried over nothing? What’s more, had she encouraged her aunt to buy a major appliance for no good reason? He must have known what she was thinking because he added, “As I mentioned, my biggest immediate concern regarded safety as it relates to the stove’s performance. Like if your aunt’s meals were cooking unevenly or weren’t cooking all the way through, she could get sick.”
“So you’re sure it’s okay to use the stove?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I should have been clearer about that.” He looked so remorseful that Zoey took the blame herself, although her response was as much of a warning as it was an apology.
“No, I misunderstood. I can be hypervigilant when it comes to my family. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize—that’s a lovely quality in a person.” When Nick’s eyes met hers, Zoey was disarmed by the sincerity she saw in them. “Listen, Aidan and I were going to grab pizza for supper when we’re done here. Why don’t we bring it back—my treat, for inconveniencing you with my miscommunication.”
Thoughtfulness seemed to be second-nature to Nick—unlike his pal Mark, who rarely made an effort for anyone else unless it served him, too. While she appreciated the gesture, she still said, “Thanks, but that isn’t necessary.”
Aunt Ivy's Cottage: A totally gripping and emotional page turner Page 10
