Winter White

by Jen Calonita

  “What’s so great about that?” Mira asked. “I wish I had guts like you.” Now it was Izzie’s turn to be surprised. “You stand up for yourself no matter what the situation is. I could never tell someone off the way you do, and believe me, I wish I could. Savannah has deserved it so many times.”

  Izzie laughed. “Be happy you don’t tell people off. That’s a good thing in EC!”

  “I’m serious,” Mira said, staring at her with interest. “I think it’s cool you’re your own person.” She clutched the emerald pendant around her neck. “But you can still be your own person and be with Brayden.”

  Izzie heard that and started to shut down, but this time Mira wouldn’t let her.

  “You keep saying, ‘I don’t belong in his world,’ but don’t you see? You already are in his world, whether you like it or not. You live here now, and that’s not going to change. Emerald Cove is as much your world as it is Brayden’s.” Mira braced herself for Izzie’s reaction, but she didn’t need to worry.

  Mira is… right, Izzie realized. Why was she always so worried about Brayden’s family liking her? Look how screwed up they were! “I never thought of it that way before.”

  Mira hesitated. “While we’re getting things off our chest, I have something I have to confess. I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”

  The last thing Izzie needed was more lies. “What did you do?”

  Mira wouldn’t look at her. “You’re going to find out anyway, but I promised Mrs. Fitz not to tell you till after cotillion.” She glanced nervously at Izzie out of the corner of her eye. “I stepped down as Butterflies cochair.” Izzie’s jaw dropped. “I don’t deserve the position,” she said. “I’m not doing right by the group, and neither is Savannah. I couldn’t get Mrs. Fitz to make Savannah step down, but I was able to get her to transfer my cochair title to you.”

  “What?” Izzie screeched. She sounded sort of like Mira. “Why?”

  “Because you’re the right person for the job,” she told Izzie. “Mrs. Fitz agrees with me. You know how to get things done. I’ve seen you do it during initiation and in all the Butterflies meetings. Maybe some people don’t like you yet, but they respect you. Even Savannah. Whether she steps down or not, I know you’re going to get more done for the Butterflies than I ever could.”

  Izzie wanted to be mad. She wanted to tell Mira she was insane. But the truth was, this was the best news she had heard in a long time. She knew she could whip the Butterflies into shape, even with Savannah breathing down her neck. Ever since Mrs. Fitz mentioned she would make a good club cochair, she hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Maybe she had wanted this job more than she even realized. “Thanks,” she said shyly. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I know you won’t.” Mira hugged her. “See? I know what you need better than you do. Dr. Oz has nothing on me.” They both laughed.

  “Well, if you’re so smart, what are you going to do about Kellen?” Izzie asked.

  Mira bit her lip. “Nothing. I can’t forgive him for what he did.”

  “You’ve forgiven people for doing less,” Izzie told her. “You put up with Taylor for forever, and he was a dud of a boyfriend, and look at everything you went through with Savannah.” Mira looked away. “Neither of them cared about you the way Kellen seems to. Maybe you should try to work things out with him. You can find friends much better than the ones you had, but Kellen, he could be worth keeping around, if he can explain himself.”

  Mira gave her a look. “It would have been nice if you could have said this to me a few weeks ago, when I was a neurotic mess.”

  “And it would have been nice for you to give me the ‘Emerald Cove is your home, too’ speech before I showed up on the Townsends’ doorstep last night.” Izzie looked at her sister. “Are you sure Kellen was the one who took your painting?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But who else could it have been?”

  Something about the story with Kellen was eating at Izzie. She understood where he was coming from better than Mira. There were times she had needed money badly, too, but she never resorted to stealing, and she had a feeling Kellen didn’t, either. There had to be someone else they weren’t thinking of.

  Mira glanced down the street at the town square Christmas tree that rose in the distance. A group of girls in white tanks, knee-highs, and short shorts stood around it. “They’ve started initiation. I guess we’re officially out of cotillion now.”

  Izzie glanced at her watch. “And Bill is two hours away from walking away from his senatorial run.”

  “Could this day be more depressing?” Mira asked.

  “I can’t believe Callista was able to put together a press conference so quickly,” Izzie said. “Usually it takes her days to get a story out. She always complains the networks don’t call her back right away.” Huh. That doesn’t make any sense, she thought. Someone as scandalous as Bill Monroe seems like a story they would pounce on. Something dawned on her. “Did anyone other than you and Kellen know where you hid your painting?”

  Mira thought back. “Just Callista. She was there when I told Kellen where to hide it.” They both looked at each other. “You don’t think…?”

  “She wouldn’t,” Izzie convinced herself. “What would she have to gain?” She hesitated. “But it is weird, isn’t it?”

  “Everything is weird lately,” Mira said. “If another story comes out about how much I hate Dad, or how much you wish you lived back in Harborside, I am going to start thinking our house is bugged!” Mira laughed nervously. “Maybe you and I are the ones who leaked all this to the papers. We only talk to each other.”

  “Each other and Callista,” Izzie realized. Mira’s laughter petered out.

  Could Callista be behind all this? Izzie wondered. She thought for a moment. Callista was always around when they needed her. She offered them rides, asked to hang out, tried to get Mira a modeling gig. Maybe she was bribing them for information without their knowing it. Izzie suddenly felt sick. She opened herself up to so few people. How could she not have seen how Callista was manipulating her and Mira?

  “This doesn’t make any sense!” Mira cried. “Callista was our friend. She said we could confide in her about anything.”

  “Of course she did.” Izzie started tapping her foot. “She made us think we were friends. Meanwhile she was selling stories to the press. But what does she have against us?”

  “I don’t know, but what I do know is that Dad is getting ready to hold a press conference,” Mira said. “And if we’re right about any of this, then he needs to know. Now.”

  Izzie felt adrenaline running through her chest. She turned Mira toward the direction of home. “You know that gliding you do in field hockey? Today, you’re going to make it a full-fledged run.”

  Twenty-One

  Mira flew through the front door with Izzie on her heels, and for a split second, she felt a zing of satisfaction—she had reached the house first! Then reality set in, and she started yelling. “Mom? Dad?”

  “Aunt Maureen? Dad?” she heard Izzie say, and they both looked at each other.

  Izzie had used the word dad, and she hadn’t burst into flames.

  Hayden came flying down the stairs with a finger over his lips. “Keep it down! Dad is in a huge meeting. You’d know that if either of you turned on your phones.”

  The girls looked at each other guiltily.

  “I was avoiding Kellen,” Mira confessed.

  “Brayden,” Izzie admitted.

  “Instead, you avoided me,” Hayden said, “and that was a mistake because you two are not going to believe what is going on.”

  Izzie cut him off. “Is Callista with him?”

  Hayden nodded. “Yeah, and so is…”

  “Did he pull out of the race yet?” Mira blurted out. “Because we have to talk to him first.”

  “He’s not pulling out,” Hayden told them. “He doesn’t have to. Holden Ingram is in Dad’s office right now striking a deal.”


  “Deal?” Izzie repeated darkly. “What for? We think Callista is the one who…”

  The door to Dad’s office opened. Their dad walked out with two lawyers and Mr. Ingram in tow. Mr. Ingram’s jaw was set squarely, and his lawyer followed close behind him. “Mira, Isabelle, Hayden,” he said and then continued down the hall, shutting the front door quietly behind him.

  “Mirabelle and Isabelle, can I see you both for a moment?” Mira detected a note of triumph in their dad’s voice as she followed Izzie into his study. “I’m sure you’re wondering why Mr. Ingram and both of our lawyers were here.”

  Mira spent a lot of time in her dad’s office when she was little. He’d be on the phone with some political powerhouse, and she’d be on the other side of his desk with crayons and paper, making her own bills and laws. Her dad’s walls were filled with memorabilia from his days as a ballplayer and in his second career as a state senator. He was beaming in all of the photos, which was a sharp contrast to how beaten down he had looked these past few weeks.

  “Mr. Ingram just confessed to hiring someone to plant false stories about our family in the papers,” their dad said. “Well, some were false.” His right eyebrow rose. “The ones Grayson Reynolds got his hands on just weren’t meant for public consumption.”

  “So you’re not dropping out of the race?” Izzie asked. Their dad nodded.

  Mira felt relief wash over her. “Savannah’s dad did all this?” she asked. “Because we thought Callista—”

  Their dad cut off Mira abruptly. “Callista has been fired. Mr. Ingram hired her to dig up dirt on me, my campaign, and our family. He apparently found out who I hired through Lucas Hale, and he sought her out and offered to pay her double what I was paying her.”

  Hearing they were right about Callista, Mira and Izzie exchanged looks of slight triumph.

  “Wow. I knew Savannah hated me, but I can’t believe the whole family would go after us that hard core,” Mira said.

  “I don’t know if Savannah knew what her father was up to,” her dad pointed out, “but he certainly didn’t want anyone else to know. Hence the lawyers and our deal.” He picked up a crystal paperweight on his desk. “Callista is taking the fall and making a statement, I am getting what I need from Holden, and the rest will stay quiet.” He exhaled. “Remind me why I went into politics again?”

  “Because you’re good at it,” Mira said. He smiled wearily.

  “How did you find out the truth?” Izzie asked.

  He took a seat in the leather swivel chair Mira used to spin around in like she was on the teacup ride at Disney World. “After our blowup last night, your aunt kept thinking about all the things that had been written about us since I announced I was running. We pulled up some stories on the Web, and started rereading them, and it was eerie. It felt like we had been bugged,” he said incredulously. “Some stories were things we joked about in private, like ‘What is the press going to come up with next? A story on mixed-up lab results and a love child?’ And then there the stories were in the paper!” He glanced apologetically at Izzie. “We were just trying to blow off steam when we said those things, but they weren’t funny. These last few months have been so frustrating. It has felt like the papers and Grayson Reynolds knew our moves as soon as we did, and there were only a few people in that category. You guys and Callista.” He looked at Izzie again. “When you mentioned what the Ingrams said at the Townsends, I knew Holden had to be involved. He denied it at first, but when I threatened a lawsuit for defamation of character, he was here within the hour.”

  “You said you got what you needed from Mr. Ingram.” Mira was still piecing the story together. “What was that?”

  Their dad leaned back in his chair and looked pretty pleased with himself. “His coastal revitalization project is dead. The thing is off the table as part of our agreement.”

  “Are you serious?” Izzie’s butt left the chair. “The community center is no longer in danger of being torn down?”

  “Not by Holden Ingram,” he told her. “But that doesn’t solve your funding issues—even with the money raised from the Falling into You Fest, the center doesn’t have enough money for heat, programs, repairs.”

  “I’ll find a way to get more,” Izzie said resolutely.

  He slid something across his desk toward her. “I’m proud of you for trying, but this will make life a little easier. This will explain why I couldn’t tell you about the center last night. The details weren’t finalized till today, but I already called the center to share the good news.”

  Mira leaned over to read along with Izzie. A giant Java Joe coffee logo was on the top of the page with Java Joe Gives Back written on its classic coffee mug.

  “Harborside Community Center has just won a Java Joe, a yearly community-center revitalization grant,” he explained. “It’s going to receive fifty thousand dollars in funding to fix up the building, and it’s going to learn ways to bring in more revenue. I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about your center going anywhere for quite some time.”

  Izzie walked around the desk uncertainly and gave him a quick squeeze around the neck. “Thank you.” Her voice cracked.

  “You’re welcome.” He choked up.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Izzie asked. “When I asked you why you were at the center, you let me lay into you about lying to me. Now I feel terrible.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you till I knew it was definitely happening,” he explained. “It seemed safer to wait till the deal was done and to not get your hopes up.” He grabbed her hand and looked from Izzie to Mira. “I feel like all I’ve done since we blended this family is let you down. That’s going to change.” He reached across the desk for Mira’s hand, too. “I know I can’t take back what I did, Isabelle, but I really do want to be a father to you like I am to Pea.” He smiled sadly at Mira. “I love her whether she feels a part of this family or thinks it’s a figment of her imagination.”

  “You understood my painting! Everyone else thought the me in the window was a ghost.”

  He let go of their hands and opened his bottom desk drawer. There was the painting.

  “How’d you get it back?” Mira asked.

  “I have my ways.” He took down one of his World Series photos and taped her painting in its place. “I know it still needs a frame, but if you don’t mind, Pea, this is going to hang in my office to remind me what happens when I lose sight of what’s important: my family.”

  Now Mira wanted a hug. “I’m so sorry about all this, Dad.”

  “I’m sorry,” he corrected her. “Nothing like this will ever happen again. If I stay in this race, things are going to change. I won’t let anyone hurt you guys again.”

  “Where is Callista now?” Izzie asked.

  “She’s packing up her things in the pool house,” he told them.

  “I didn’t know she used the pool house,” Mira said.

  “Only on occasion. Probably when she needed to make covert calls. Your mom is out there with her to make sure she doesn’t take anything.” He gave them a look.

  “Do you mind if we go out and see her?” Mira asked tentatively, glancing in Izzie’s direction. “There’s something I want to say to her.”

  He nodded. “Go ahead.”

  Callista was carrying a box to her car by the time they reached her. Mira’s mom was standing watch from her post at the pool house door. When Callista saw the girls, her face hardened. “I guess you two have come to tell me off, too.”

  Mira was surprisingly calm. “I thought you liked us,” she said, knowing how naive she sounded.

  “I do like you,” Callista said. She glanced over her shoulder at Mira’s mom. She was out of earshot, but she still looked pretty mad. “You’re super. This was just business. Do you know how much someone in PR makes outside of Manhattan?” she asked. “It’s not pretty. I got a better offer, and I took it.”

  “That’s what this was about? Money?” Izzie was not happy. “You didn�
�t care who you hurt?”

  Callista hiked her box up to maintain her grip. Mira couldn’t believe how aloof she seemed for someone who had practically caused a whole family to crumble. “That’s politics. For my next job, maybe I’ll do PR for a cosmetics company.” She smiled somewhat. “Less cutthroat.” Neither girl laughed. “I’m sorry you two got caught up in this, though,” Callista said. “You guys were always great to me.” She balanced the box with one hand and pulled a small slip of paper out of her messenger bag. “This is for you, Mira. To make up for the painting fiasco.”

  “What is it?” Mira looked at the scribbled name and phone number.

  “That is an editor at Justine,” Callista explained, and Mira looked up in surprise. “Even without your dad, they want you for a shoot. I sent them some pictures of you. They think you’d make a great model.”

  “They do?” Mira began twisting one of her curls around her finger. “To model? I mean, I never thought about modeling before, but that could be… what did they say about me, exactly?” Izzie nudged her. “I’ll think about calling them.”

  Callista glanced at Izzie. “They’re interested in you, too, you know.”

  “No, thanks,” Izzie said bluntly.

  “Well, I guess this is good-bye, girls.” Callista headed to the gate. “Sorry it had to end like this.”

  Mira’s mom followed her out, as if she couldn’t be quite sure they were really rid of Callista until she drove off in her Prius. Once she was gone, Izzie, Mira, and her mom stood quietly on the front porch. Mira couldn’t help but wonder what the last month would have been like if her dad had hired a different PR person, or hadn’t hired anyone at all. Maybe the truth was they needed something like this to happen so they could figure out how to be a family again.

  But she wasn’t going to say that out loud.

  A few seconds later, a minivan with the Emerald Cove Dry Cleaners logo pulled into their long driveway. Their dry cleaner delivered even though most people lived only ten minutes away from the store. A young guy jumped out and ran several items in plastic and on hangers to the front door. Mira’s dad and Hayden appeared in time to tip him. Mira noticed their dad’s tuxedo was one of the items delivered.