Aunt Ivy's Cottage: A totally gripping and emotional page turner

by Kristin Harper

  She slid a box of dry goods under the living room table and noticed crumbs beneath one of the chairs. That was where Connor sat, she thought, smiling. As nervous as he’d been, there was something about him that was as loveable as an overgrown puppy dog.

  Suddenly, she recalled what he’d said about Gabi being in his group on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Zoey had assumed he meant she was in his group in band, but now she realized he meant she was in the group of kids who hung out together after school. That made Zoey feel a little more at ease. Maybe it was because he’d refused to let Aidan pressure him into going up to the attic, but Connor didn’t seem like the type of kid to be easily influenced by peer pressure or to pressure someone else. Of course, I didn’t think Erik was the type to lose my life’s savings in a shady deal, either, she reminded herself.

  She still had three cupboards left to clean when Gabi returned from school, otherwise Zoey would have suggested they take a walk so she could broach the subject of where she’d been going after school again. But Gabi went straight upstairs and by the time Zoey was ready to put away her supplies, Ivy was up from her nap. Yawning, she said she was going to relax in the living room until she was a little more awake.

  Then Gabi came down and Zoey overhead her asking their aunt, “Do you want to play cribbage?”

  “That’s okay, dear. I know you have other things you’d rather do.”

  “No, I don’t. Please, Aunt Ivy?”

  Zoey didn’t hear what her aunt said next, but a few minutes later their giggling floated down the hall. Zoey was so relieved that any discord between her aunt and niece had been resolved that she didn’t even mind that Gabi still gave her the cold shoulder during supper. Now I understand how Kathleen feels when Gabi only talks to Scott, she thought.

  That didn’t mean Zoey intended to let her keep it up, however. So the next morning when Gabi came into the dining room to look for a box of cereal, Zoey told her, “Before you leave for school today, there are a couple of things I’d like to talk about.”

  Gabi’s eyes were steely as she crossed her arms. “I’m not telling you anything else about what I’ve been doing on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you might as well not ask me again.”

  That wasn’t how Zoey had hoped their conversation would go, but she nodded slowly. “Okay. If you’d rather continue coming right home from school on those days, that’s up to you. But what I want to tell you is that I’m very sorry I didn’t visit you this past Christmas. I’d just gotten laid off and I was really stressed. More importantly, I thought you were going to be busy with symphony and I figured it would be better if I came during your February break so we could spend more time together. But by then, Aunt Sylvia had pneumonia so I had to help her and Aunt Ivy… Anyway, I just want you to know that visiting you has always been a highlight of my year and I don’t intend to miss spending another Christmas with you again.”

  Gabi’s features expression remained impassive, but Zoey noticed the tiniest flicker of emotion in her eyes before she said, “Can I go now?”

  Zoey inhaled deeply. She’s only fourteen, she reminded herself and then she exhaled. “Yes. You can go.”

  Gabi turned to leave without taking the cereal box. “See you later,” she said, which wasn’t a lot, but it was better than nothing.

  “Zoey!” Ivy called urgently when Zoey entered the house on Monday morning.

  On Saturday, she’d gone to the hardware store and brought home several paint sample cards in various shades of white. So this morning she went back to buy two gallons of the color Ivy selected. She set them down and rushed into the living room where her aunt was sitting with one hand on her chest. Her face was flushed and she appeared dazed.

  “My heart’s aflutter,” she said.

  “Did you take a nitro pill already or should I go get you one?”

  “No. I mean my heart is aflutter because I finally did it. I mended a fence I should have mended a long time ago.”

  Zoey couldn’t imagine her aunt swinging a hammer and she wondered if she was… if she was losing it. “What fence?”

  “The broken one between me and Mr. Witherell.”

  Zoey dropped onto the couch, relieved. That makes more sense, she thought. Sort of. “When did you see him?”

  “On his daily excursion past the house this morning. See, last night I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about how Gabi said I spend too much time in the past.”

  “She didn’t say that. Besides—”

  “It’s okay. It’s true that I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about people from the past; people in my life who have died. I have my reasons for doing that, but today I decided I was going to talk to someone from the past who can talk back to me—Mr. Witherell. So I waited on the front steps and when I saw him, I called him over. ‘Phin,’ I said, ‘This is a long time in coming, but I want you to know I’m sorry for speaking so harshly to you when we were young. If you haven’t already, will you forgive me now?’ Guess what he said?”

  “That he’d be glad to?”

  “No. He said, ‘Uhn.’” Ivy imitated his grunting noise, delighted. “Which was as good as saying yes. And I told him, ‘The next time I bake a rhubarb pie, I hope you’ll stop in and have a piece with me.’ And he nodded and then he doddered away.”

  Zoey wasn’t sure she would have interpreted Mr. Witherell’s response the same way her aunt had interpreted it, but she supposed if Ivy knew him well enough to call him Phin, she also knew what his grunting meant. “That’s wonderful,” she said.

  But was it? Mr. Witherell’s enigmatic comment to Mark after the funeral proved he was capable of conversing. Although Zoey blamed her cousin for provoking him and she believed the remark was only meant to be facetious, she couldn’t be one hundred percent positive Mr. Witherell wouldn’t repeat it to Ivy. Not out of revenge or because it was true, but possibly in the course of owning up to angering her great-nephew. And the slightest whisper of all those rumors, no matter how fabricated they were, would hurt her aunt’s feelings. So while she was glad Ivy had rectified her falling out with Mr. Witherell, out of a sense of protectiveness, Zoey wished she’d keep her distance from him.

  “Yes, it is wonderful. It goes to show it’s never too late to ask for forgiveness. Righting that wrong with Phineas makes me feel so… so alive,” she gushed. “Now, if you pull out the drawers and set them on some newspaper on the table, I can sit down and paint the front of them while you work on the cupboards.”

  Zoey hadn’t seen her this energetic since… since she didn’t know when. They spent the day painting and chatting, stopping only to eat lunch. Ivy didn’t even take a nap. When they were finished, Zoey could see that the cupboards would need a second coat, but her aunt was jubilant about the overall effect.

  “Nick was right—a simple change can make a world of difference,” she said. “Now that I’ve put things right with Mr. Witherell and we’re painting the kitchen, there’s no telling what other changes I’ll make!”

  Just as long as they’re changes for the better, Zoey worried to herself. But she smiled at and agreed, “The sky’s the limit, Aunt Ivy.”

  “Aunt Ivy and I will be at the cardiologist’s office this afternoon but I still expect you to come home immediately after school,” Zoey informed her niece on Tuesday morning. She thought she’d be met with indifference, but Gabi furrowed her brow.

  “Why does Aunt Ivy have to go to a cardiologist?”

  “For her annual check-up,” Zoey said. Then she caught herself. Knowing how sensitive Gabi could be, she didn’t want to worry her, yet she didn’t want to be deceptive, either. “Well, it’s not exactly a regular check-up. She’s been having more heart pain than usual so the doctor wanted her to come in for some tests. But I think he’s erring on the side of caution.”

  “Oh.” When she blinked her big blue eyes she looked so childlike that Zoey instinctively opened her arms to comfort her with a hug. But Gabi abruptly turned on her heel, nearly clobbering Zoey with her bo
ok bag as she slung it over her shoulder.

  This time, she said to herself, I don’t care if she is only fourteen—her attitude still hurts.

  It seemed to take forever for Ivy to get through her EKG, echocardiogram and bloodwork. Finally, Zoey reunited with her as they waited while the cardiologist read her results and then a nurse escorted them into his office. Zoey had only met Dr. Laurent once before but she’d immediately liked him. Although he was relatively young, he was considered one of the best cardiac surgeons in New England. But he didn’t seem to have an ego about it and Zoey appreciated that he was kind, thoughtful and treated her aunt—and undoubtedly everyone else he saw, judging from the wait time—as if she were his only patient.

  After he greeted them, Ivy pointed to a seascape painting hanging on the wall. “I recognize that painting. It was in a newspaper article about a class at the library in Benjamin’s Manor.”

  “Yes. It’s an original by Emily Vandermark, the artist who’s teaching that class. What do you think of it?”

  “It’s beautiful.Is the artist your patient?” Ivy asked and Zoey cringed, knowing privacy laws would have prevented the doctor from admitting it if she was.

  “She’s my sister.”

  Ivy’s mouth dropped open. “What if I had said I didn’t like it?”

  “I would have appreciated your honesty—although I probably wouldn’t have repeated the comment to my sister. She’s the type who’d shoot the messenger,” Dr. Laurent joked. Then he grew serious. “I know you want honesty from me, too, Mrs. Cartwright.”

  “That depends on what you’re going to tell me.” Ivy made him chuckle, but a knot tightened in Zoey’s stomach.

  “I’m going to tell you the same thing I’ve been telling you, and that’s that I think you need a pacemaker.”

  Zoey pounced on that. “What do you mean, ‘what you’ve been telling her’?”

  Dr. Laurent glanced at Ivy, who nodded, so he answered, “I’ve been advising your aunt she needs a pacemaker for the past three, three-and-a-half years.” He continued, explaining why he thought she had an increased risk of suffering sudden cardiac death and how a pacemaker could keep her heart beating regularly.

  “Why have you put this off, Aunt Ivy? I’m sure your insurance covers the cost.”

  “Yes, but there are risks associated with the surgery. And there can be unpleasant side effects from the device.”

  Dr. Laurent elaborated, saying the procedure was a minor surgery—her aunt would only have to stay in the hospital overnight. The doctor did caution that because of Ivy’s age and health history, her recovery time would be a little longer. But all things considered, the procedure and side effects seemed like a walk in the park compared to what her aunt had experienced when she underwent cancer treatment. And nothing he described worried Zoey nearly as much as the increased likelihood that Ivy could suffer a fatal heart event without the pacemaker.

  Her mind reeling, she exclaimed, “I thought you were fine. I thought Dr. Laurent was managing your heart pain with medication.”

  “The chest pain—the angina—is a symptom,” Dr. Laurent clarified. “The nitroglycerin helps, but it doesn’t treat the arrhythmia, which is the underlying condition.”

  He’s only been treating the symptom, not the cause? “I don’t understand how you could let her walk out of your office year after year, knowing she’s in danger. That seems unethical—”

  “Zoey!” Ivy admonished but she’d been too distressed to censor herself.

  “It’s okay. I wish all my patients had family members who care about them as much as your niece cares about you. And I welcome her expressing her questions and concerns.” He turned to Zoey and gently said, “I don’t think we can say for certain that your aunt’s in danger of suffering a significant cardiac event. She’s been declining this procedure for years and so far, she’s been all right. I only know what the risks and probabilities are. Based on that, my best advice has been for her to have the device implanted—the sooner, the better. But ultimately, the decision is hers to make, not mine.”

  Zoey could read between the lines; he was also implying the choice was Ivy’s, not Zoey’s. She countered defensively, “Would you leave the decision up to the patient if it was your great-aunt sitting here instead of mine?”

  “Yes, I would.” He glanced at his hands, folded on his lap. There was such compassion in his voice that Zoey knew he understood her when he added, “But it would anguish me if she didn’t make the choice I thought was best.”

  “Oh, stop pressuring me, you two,” Ivy burst out, shaking a finger at both of them. If Zoey hadn’t been so exasperated and frightened, she might have found it funny. Her aunt fell back in her seat and threw her hands in the air. “If I can remodel my kitchen, I suppose my heart deserves an update after all these years. You win. I’ll get the pacemaker.”

  Dr. Laurent was going to be out of town the following week, but he said they could schedule the surgery for the week after that since he was the only one Ivy wanted to perform the procedure. Meanwhile, he encouraged her to do what she’d been doing; taking the nitro pills for chest pain, eating healthful foods, getting lots of rest and avoiding stressful situations.

  “If you’re at a loss for a pleasant way to relax, you might consider signing up for one of the painting classes my sister is teaching. Just don’t repeat that crack I made about her being the type to shoot the messenger.” He and Ivy both laughed but Zoey was having a difficult time not crying.

  While her aunt was checking out, Zoey went to hold the elevator since she needed a moment to pull herself together. As she was waiting, her phone pulsated in her purse. “Hi, Gabi,” she said when she answered it. “What’s up?”

  “I just wondered where you are.”

  That’s a switch. “We’re still at the hospital.”

  “The hospital? I thought Aunt Ivy only had a doctor’s appointment.”

  “She did. Her doctor’s office is located in the hospital.”

  “Oh. I didn’t think it would take so long.”

  That’s why she called—she’s worried. Zoey’s tone softened, “Aunt Ivy just got done with her appointment. We’ll be home soon.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s…” Zoey realized her aunt was now within earshot. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “I can make supper tonight if you want me to.”

  “That would be nice, except there’s wet paint on most of the cupboards so we decided to order takeout from Captain Clark’s.” As Ivy stepped into the elevator, Zoey pointed to the phone and mouthed, Gabi. Then she pressed the button for the lobby and the door closed. “We can either have an early meal or reheat it later. Is there anything in particular you’d like us to bring back for you?

  “A pet lobster?”

  It took a moment for her to get the reference to the time when her niece was a little girl and wanted to bring a lobster home from the restaurant as a pet. Gabi was making a joke. Making amends, of sorts. Zoey appreciated the effort. “Moby would get jealous. He thinks he owns you.”

  “All right, then bring me chowder, please.”

  As they waited on a bench outside for their ride to come, Zoey stared toward the port, only vaguely aware of the small passenger ferry coming in to dock and the gulls squawking overhead. We shouldn’t have takeout for supper, she brooded. Aunt Ivy always orders onion rings and those aren’t good for her heart. She shouldn’t have been painting for so long the other day, either. It was probably too much activity all at once…

  “Stop worrying about me.” It was uncanny how Ivy could read her mind. “I’m going to be fine.”

  “I know you are.” Zoey’s smile belied her fears.

  Ivy patted her hand. “You’ve been such a help to me. Just like Sylvia always was. I can’t tell you how much I’ve appreciated it.”

  Zoey didn’t like the way her aunt was talking in the past tense. It felt as if she was saying goodbye. “We’ve discussed this, Aunt Ivy. You d
on’t have to tell me how much you appreciate my help. I already know.”

  “Yes, but what I do need to say is that even though I’m grateful for all you’ve done, I don’t want my surgery or recovery to interfere with your plans. If you get that library job, don’t put off starting it on my account.”

  So was that why her aunt hadn’t had the pacemaker implanted sooner—because she hadn’t wanted to be a “burden” to Sylvia or to Zoey? “It doesn’t begin until late August and you’ll be better long before then.”

  “Yes, but if there’s a change. Or if another opportunity comes up sooner. Because I could always recover in one of those rest homes Mark has told me about.”

  Ugh. I’d forgotten all about Mark. Anticipating that one of them would have to let him know about Ivy’s upcoming surgery, Zoey ruefully mused, He’ll probably try to lease out the house as soon as she’s under anesthesia. But since it wasn’t the right moment to contradict the suggestion that her aunt could recover in a rest home, Zoey stood up and said, “I think that’s our car coming.”

  Ivy took hold of Zoey’s arm for balance. As they made their way down the sidewalk, she gave her skin a little pinch. “Dear girl, listen to your aunt. Most of my life is behind me. Most of yours is ahead of you. And I want you to live it fully, no matter what, understand?”

  Zoey nodded. Yes, she understood what her aunt was saying, but that didn’t mean she could accept it. Not yet. Not now.

  Chapter Ten

  On Wednesday morning, Gabi said she felt too sick to go to school. “My stomach hurts. My head does, too.”