Winter White

by Jen Calonita

  “She already has too much power,” Nicole agreed. “She’s even getting her way in cotillion.” Nicole turned to Violet. “Savannah danced with Brayden at our cotillion lunch, and she didn’t have to cuff him to get him to do it. He asked her!”

  Izzie continued to towel off. “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “I can’t believe Brayden would do that to you.” Violet pulled the band of her goggles, and they snapped hard.

  “Want to know what is worse? He hasn’t even apologized,” Izzie said, and Violet’s eyes widened. “I’ve barely spoken to him since the lunch, and when I saw him today in class, he acted like everything was fine. I wanted to sock him in the stomach.”

  “What a jerk.” Violet pulled her goggles over her swim cap and removed her red shorts, which said Emerald Prep on the butt. Her 100-meter freestyle was coming up.

  “You guys aren’t being fair.” Nicole liked to play devil’s advocate, but Izzie wasn’t in the mood. “Maybe his mom put him up to it. You have no idea how much control that woman has. She’s probably got Brayden under some sort of voodoo spell.”

  “He looked fine to me,” Izzie said. “He danced with her three times, then disappeared. It’s like he thinks if he doesn’t talk about it, it never happened.”

  “Now I wish I was doing cotillion.” Violet’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t want to do stupid stunts like your Gaga sing-along, but I would have loved to be at your welcome tea so I could kick Brayden’s butt.” She sounded like Kylie. When Izzie had told her what happened at the luncheon, Kylie screamed all sorts of things that Izzie couldn’t repeat.

  “Brayden must be waiting to talk to you alone,” Nicole guessed. “He probably had to put on a show for his mom since his sister is doing the opposite. You guys know about his sister, Dylan, right?” Violet shook her head, and Izzie figured it was best to do the same.

  “I guess you wouldn’t.” Nicole pulled her long legs up on the bench and rested her head on her knees. “She was gone before either of you came to town.” She looked at Izzie. “She’s one of the debs running our initiation. The tall, skinny one with long blond hair.”

  “Aren’t they all tall, skinny, and blond?” Izzie joked. Dylan had trusted her enough to share her secret, and she didn’t want to blow it.

  Nicole had already swum the backstroke and the 500-meter freestyle, so she had plenty of time to share gossip. “When Dylan was here at EP, I heard, the things she did were so crazy, her parents had to ship her to a boarding school in New England.”

  “What did she do that was so wrong?” Izzie couldn’t help but ask. “Get drunk at a party or date some guy they didn’t like?” That’s what Mira had said happened, but neither scenario sounded banishment-worthy. It irked her how quick everyone was to jump to conclusions about Dylan when they barely knew her.

  “Think worse,” Nicole said. “Dylan drove her mom’s Porsche Roadster without a license and crashed it into the horse stables near Harper Browning’s farm.”

  “She’s the one who destroyed the stables?” Violet’s eyes bulged. “I heard about that when I moved here.”

  Nicole leaned in closer. “Yep. She wasn’t drinking, but the accident happened in the middle of the night, and the EC police chief was the first on the scene. She was in the car with some guy who definitely wasn’t Junior League–approved. Everyone knew the story by morning—the police chief’s wife is a big Junior Leaguer—and Dylan’s mom was mortified. She was shipped out to St. Bernadine’s the following week. Abigail Townsend has no tolerance for mistakes, especially from her daughter.”

  Driving without a license and stealing her mother’s car was definitely a mistake, but the accident might not have been her fault, Izzie thought. The guy in the car could have been anyone. Just because he wasn’t from here didn’t make the story more of a scandal. Maybe it was time for her to change the subject. “I don’t think Mrs. Townsend has a high tolerance for a lot of people,” Izzie said. “Especially me.”

  “What makes you say that?” Violet stood up and started to stretch for her race.

  “She didn’t seem too fond of me at cotillion, especially after I got hot tea on her jacket.” Violet winced. “Then I got a note from her yesterday saying I needed extra help in the ballroom-dance department. She also said I have less than one week to find a legitimate charity to work with to fulfill my community commitment, or I’ll flunk out of cotillion.”

  “You can’t fail out of cotillion.” Nicole frowned. “I think.”

  Izzie pulled the ice-blue monogrammed stationery out of her bag and handed it to the girls. “I’m not so sure of that. Take a look at the note yourself.”

  “Hi, girls.” Savannah had come from out of nowhere. “Nice race, Izzie. Too bad your time wasn’t just a teensy bit faster. We would have had the lead.” She noticed the blue card in Nicole’s hands, and her face lit up. “Did you get a note from Abigail Townsend? I’d recognize her Tiffany note cards anywhere.”

  “God, do you have the Townsends on radar or something?” Nicole slipped the note back into Izzie’s bag before Savannah could reach for it.

  Savannah adjusted her pink swim cap. “She gave me a thank-you note just the other day, actually. She wanted to thank me for agreeing to dance with Brayden at the welcome tea.” Izzie’s back stiffened. “I called her right up and said, ‘Mrs. Townsend, why wouldn’t I dance with your son? Our families have dinner together every week.’ ” She eyed Izzie with determination. “ ‘No matter what happened between us, a bond like that doesn’t disappear overnight.’ ” Savannah smiled sweetly. “But don’t worry, Izzie. I’m sure you’ll be invited over to meet them all eventually. You’d fit right in—with Dylan.” She walked away before Izzie could trip her.

  Izzie’s foot began to tap uncontrollably. Why had Brayden never mentioned that the Ingrams and Townsends got together every week?

  “Do not let her get to you,” Nicole glared at Savannah walking away. “She’s just jealous.”

  “Of what? All the family dinners she is having with Brayden and Izzie isn’t?” Violet said incredulously. Both girls looked at her. “I’m sorry. I know Brayden’s a good guy, but first he didn’t text you back about being at the welcome tea, then he somehow forgets to mention these weekly dinners? What gives?”

  Violet was right. Izzie didn’t think she could feel much worse till she felt a tap on her shoulder.

  “Hi, Isabelle.” Bill looked awkward in a tie and sports coat in the steamy aquatic center. “Great race back there. You, too, girls.”

  For a split second, she was touched. Bill had come from the office just to see her. She hadn’t had family cheer her on at a meet in a long time. Grams had attended many, but in the last year, she had no clue what was going on.

  “It’s so nice to see you, Senator Monroe.” Nicole’s voice was chipper, like it was on autopilot. Izzie noticed this happened a lot with her friends from Emerald Cove. No matter how annoyed they were at someone’s parents, the minute that adult came into view, their manners took over. Izzie couldn’t fake the enthusiasm.

  “I should get ready for my next race,” Violet told them. “It was nice seeing you, Senator Monroe. Come on, Nic. Why don’t you help me warm up?”

  Izzie’s foot tapped faster now. She didn’t want her friends to kiss Bill’s butt, but she didn’t want them to leave her alone, either.

  “Mind if I sit down?” Bill stared at the empty seat next to her.

  “I should warm up for my next race, too,” Izzie told him. She glanced at the board. She didn’t really have to. There were still seven races ahead of hers.

  “I won’t stay long.” He sat down, and for ten minutes, they watched the race in silence. Violet’s heat was going. When she won, Izzie was so happy, she almost hugged Bill.

  “It’s okay to smile around me, you know,” Bill said. Izzie didn’t answer him. “You have every right to be mad at me, but I am still going to try to win you over. I used to argue my case with your mom all the time.”

 
The hairs on Izzie’s arms may have been wet, but they stood up.

  “Chloe was stubborn when we fought, too,” he added. “Not that we fought often.”

  “You didn’t fight often, because you only knew her a few months.” Izzie’s anger was getting the best of her.

  “True.” He watched the next heat. “But we spent practically every nonworking moment together. You learn a lot about a person quickly when you practically live with them.” He studied Izzie for a moment. “You have her mouth—both the shape and the attitude that comes with it. She was big with causes like you are, too. It didn’t matter what the cause was.” He smiled at the memory. “She’d fight for a street that needed a crossing signal, picket till a school agreed to build a new playground, or fight to keep the vegetable garden in our neighborhood from being turned into a parking lot. Your mom was a one-woman call to arms.”

  Izzie wished she had the nerve to tell him to stop talking, but part of her wanted to hear what he had to say. She didn’t know her mom shared the same need to give back that she did. There was no one left to tell her what her mom was like. Sometimes she even craved hearing her mom’s name spoken out loud so it wouldn’t disappear.

  “Even back then, Chloe was a big swimmer,” Bill said. “She’d drag me to the beach at East Rockaway, and she’d want to stay on the sand from sunup to sundown.” Izzie turned toward him to hear more, and he did the same, his hazel eyes full of energy. “She was a rabble-rouser, always swimming out beyond the ropes. Anything to tick off a lifeguard. Chloe said she had spent her life in the ocean and no one knew it as well as she did. She used to have an expression about it actually. Something about glory, I think.”

  “No guts, no glory,” Izzie said quietly. Their voices were drowned out by more cheering. EC’s team was in the lead. Even though everyone else was standing, Izzie and her dad sat locked in their conversation. “Mom used to say the same thing to me when she was teaching me how to swim,” Izzie told him. “I remember her liking a challenge. Any challenge.”

  “I do, too,” he said, leaning forward. “We’d make bets over who could make the bed the neatest. Not that I stayed over,” he added quickly.

  “Of course not,” Izzie said wryly. “The stork brought me.”

  “Exactly.” He nodded solemnly. “Chloe was one-of-a-kind. I loved how she could talk for hours about what she wanted to do with her life and where she wanted to go. She had a map with pins that showed all the cities she wanted to visit.”

  The last part struck a nerve.

  “But that didn’t happen, did it? She never got to go anywhere but New York.” Izzie felt the fire in her heat up again. “She came home pregnant with me and never left Harborside again.”

  Bill looked her squarely in the eye. “I may not have known about you, but I knew your mom, and no matter how far she wanted to travel, she never regretted where she called home. She loved North Carolina. She wanted to see the world, but Chloe always said she could never see herself living anywhere but here.”

  Izzie could feel the ugly seeping into their conversation. “Why did you leave her?”

  Bill’s face twisted slightly. “She… we… it just didn’t work out.” Izzie stared at him so long for clues as to why, she almost didn’t hear her name. Her race was next.

  “I have to warm up.” She placed her goggles over her swim cap.

  “Before you go, I have something else I need to tell you.”

  She was already depressed. Did he really have to make her feel worse?

  “There’s going to be another story in the papers tomorrow.” For the first time, Izzie noticed how tired Bill looked. “Grayson Reynolds, the reporter at the North Carolina Gazette on my beat, claims to have taped a conversation with you and Mira.”

  “He’s lying,” Izzie said. “Mira and I aren’t stupid. We wouldn’t talk about you in public.”

  He smiled grimly. “I appreciate that. Callista has threatened the paper with slander, but the story is still running. Grayson is a well-respected columnist. We go way back.” Bill no longer looked happy. “He has hated me and my policies for years. Just promise me you won’t read his story or get upset.”

  “What does it say?” she asked. Nicole was waving frantically. She had to get over there, or she’d be late for the race.

  Bill looked uncomfortable. “It says that you and Mira wish you could be adopted. That you’d rather crisscross the globe with Madonna than be stuck in Emerald Cove with me.”

  Izzie inhaled sharply. She had said that. She and Mira had joked around about it one night while they were watching a story on celebrity travel on E! But they had been half kidding, and they definitely didn’t think anyone had heard them. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he told her. “I don’t want you to worry.”

  “Izzie Scott! You’re up!” Coach Greff yelled.

  “Have a great race.” He gave her a small smile.

  But Izzie didn’t have a good race. She lost the 200-meter freestyle relay for her team. She told herself it was because the girls at St. Alexander’s Girls School held the county medal in the event. The truth was, all she could think about was her mom. Maybe that’s why she finished the meet and knew where she needed to go. She got as far as the Emerald Prep drop-off area before running into the other person she couldn’t get off her mind.

  “Hey!” Brayden ran to catch up with her. His brown hair was matted to his head from his football helmet, and he was in gym clothes. “I just got out of practice. I wanted to see the rest of your meet, but someone said it was over. Did you win?”

  “Yes and no,” she said, avoiding his gaze. Technically, he hadn’t done anything wrong at cotillion. They weren’t officially dating, so he could dance with whomever he wanted. But that didn’t mean he didn’t behave like a royal jerk. “I need to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Brayden’s face fell. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

  Um, yes? She didn’t want to get into this. She wanted to catch a bus to see Grams and make it home before dinner. “I’ll catch you later.” She started walking away.

  “This is about Savannah, isn’t it?” Brayden wasn’t giving up. She kept her eyes on the main gate and the bus stop just beyond it. She was so close to getting out of there. “You’re upset about Savannah and me dancing together at the welcome tea.”

  The way he said it—like he had no responsibility, that it just happened—made Izzie furious. She whirled around. “You’re more observant than I thought. How could you not warn me that you were coming to the tea and planning to totally ignore me?”

  “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. It was wrong.” Brayden was visibly upset. “But you have to understand—”

  If she didn’t get this out now, she might not have the nerve later. “I had to watch you two on the dance floor. And even after that torture, you didn’t come over to talk to me. You stayed with her!”

  “I’m sorry,” Brayden butted in. “I was only there ten minutes. I was going to call you after and explain, but—”

  “But you were having their family over for dinner,” Izzie guessed.

  Brayden winced. “I should have told you everything. I don’t know why I listen to Dylan.” Izzie’s ears perked up. “She said you’d be upset about the dinners, so I was better off keeping them quiet. I know how worried you get about Savannah getting between us, but I shouldn’t have kept this quiet. I’m sorry, Iz.”

  Dylan couldn’t stand Savannah. If she told Brayden to keep the dinners from her, then Izzie had to assume Dylan was trying to protect her. The story made more sense now, and unfortunately it also made it harder for her to be mad at Brayden. But there was still the fact that he’d ignored her texts. He wasn’t off the hook yet.

  “I thought you were hiding something from me,” Izzie said, starting to calm down. “I don’t trust people that easily and I trust you, Brayden. Finding out you lied to me…”

  He walked toward her. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. It won’t hap
pen again.” The only consolation was that he looked miserable.

  “That still doesn’t explain why you danced with Savannah at the luncheon.” She did not want to be that girl—the one who hounded a boy to death about his every move—but Brayden had to know how hurt she was. “It still doesn’t explain why you ignored three texts from me asking if you were coming.”

  Brayden looked puzzled. “I didn’t get any texts.” She gave him a sharp look. “I swear. I couldn’t find my phone anywhere. My parents just got me a new one yesterday.” He pulled a new phone out of his pocket and showed it to her.

  She felt slightly sheepish now.

  “I know this doesn’t change what I did. I still should have told you I was going to have to dance with Savannah at the luncheon,” Brayden said. “My parents bullied me into it with the whole ‘our family has to set an example’ speech and the ‘we owe it to the Ingrams’ talk.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m sick of it.”

  She wanted to believe him, but she kept thinking about how Dylan said Brayden was his parents’ lackey. Dylan said Brayden never said no to them. Was he really going to stand up to them now?

  Brayden squeezed her hand. “I should have told you what was going on. It won’t happen again. I swear. Give me another shot.”

  She didn’t want to open herself up to being hurt again, but he looked so sincere that she softened a bit. “You’d better be,” she warned him. She held on to his hand until the J26 bus pulled up in front of them. “I have to catch this.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Brayden told her. He pulled his wallet out for fare.

  Izzie laughed. “You don’t even know where I’m going!”

  “So?” Brayden took her bag. “All I need to know is I’m going with you.” He stepped up in front of the opening bus doors.

  “Charmer.” Izzie pushed him onto the bus ahead of her.

  A half hour later, they got off at the stop near Coastal Assisted Living Center. By that point, she had filled Brayden in on where they were headed.

  “Isabelle! So nice to see you again,” said the receptionist as she buzzed her and Brayden in. “I didn’t know you were visiting today.”