“So that explains the red car parked outside. I thought it was a bit too sporty for you. Where is your car?”
“We traded cars. Hers was due for an oil change at the dealership, and she had a doctor’s appointment, so we traded for the day. I had a bit of time on my hands, so I took the car in and waited.”
Ivy nodded, but did not say anything. Margaret was a great lady, but every time her name was brought up, Ivy was reminded that it was her son, Mark, who was piloting the plane whose crash had taken her family’s lives. But had it really been Mark’s fault? Though the NTSB had determined the crash to be the result of pilot error, it had never been proven, and the error that had presumably caused the crash still remained a mystery.
“So I had lunch with Sarah Anderson today,” Ivy said, opening the refrigerator and taking out a can of soda. “I didn’t know she was teaching fifth grade here in Pine City. I didn’t even know that she was back in town.”
“Yes, she moved back several years ago. Her mother was ill, still is, as far as I know. It’s a good thing, your going out today. You look good, Ivy. Better than I have seen you in quite a while.”
She took a drink of her soda. “I’m not sure if I should be offended or complimented. You saw me yesterday, remember? Surely, I cannot have changed all that much.”
He stirred something on the stove, which smelled delightful. “It’s the attitude. Something’s changed.” He turned his back to her, added some spices to the concoction on the stove, turned the burner down, then faced her. “You look as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You want to talk about it?” He motioned for her to take a seat at the parlor table. They’d had many talks at this table, and Ivy was warmed to know that her father was still on that page. She sat in what was once her chair and took a long pull from her soda.
“I guess your visit opened my eyes,” she said.
“So, out of the blue, you called Sarah and made a lunch date?” he asked, his tone clearly disbelieving. “I’m glad, though. For whatever reason,” he slyly added. He knew her well.
“There was more to it, but you already know that. This little girl showed up at my house last night. Apparently, she had gotten lost in the woods, and she used my phone to call her dad. You might know him. Daniel Greenwood.” Ivy watched him for a reaction.
“Of course I know him. He’s a master with anything that grows. He works . . . Rather, he runs the horticultural end of The Upside, and all my grounds. The restaurants, all of my properties. So you met him?”
“I did.” No way would she give him more information. He’s going to work for it. Just like the old days. She smiled at the memory.
“What?” he asked.
“I was just thinking about . . . the old days. Nothing specific,” she said. “So what’s your take on Daniel Greenwood?”
“What do you want to know?”
Ivy finished her drink and crushed the can, then threw it across the kitchen into the garbage can. She chuckled. “It’s good to know I haven’t lost my aim,” she said.
“Daniel Greenwood is a private guy, that much I know. He has an excellent reputation, hard worker. I can’t say I know him well, but what I do know is all positive. Why are you asking me these questions? And why now?”
Why was she? She was not sure herself. Maybe she was searching for the voice of approval. If her father thought Daniel Greenwood a decent man, then it would be fine to spend an evening with him and Holly.
“I was curious, that’s all,” she replied. “Actually, that’s not the only reason.” Here goes, she thought. “I’m going to Ollie’s with him and his daughter. Tonight. For pizza.” Ivy waited for the onslaught of guilt, but only felt a touch of sadness that James and Elizabeth had not had the pleasure of Ollie’s pizza.
The look on her father’s face was worth a million bucks times ten.
“I’m not going to ask how this came about”—he shook his head left to right—“but if it’s the reason for the sudden change, I’m beyond thrilled for you.” He took her hand and gave her a quick pat, just like he used to do when she was a kid. This pat always indicated their chats were over, but now, she knew otherwise. The delightful scent coming from the pot gave off a tinge of a burned smell.
“Good gravy!” her father said as he picked up the pot and carried it to the sink. “No, not good gravy. See, this is what happens every time I try to make this recipe. I need to stop watching the Food Network late at night.” He dumped the contents down the garbage disposal, then rinsed out the pot. “I’ll have to start over. Good thing I have extra ingredients. I always buy double, and often triple, just in case something like this happens.”
“I need to go. Sorry about your gravy,” Ivy said, standing to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Enjoy yourself, Ivy. It’s time,” her father said.
She nodded, not bothering to say anything.
* * *
As she backed her car out of the drive, it suddenly hit her that she was actually going on a date! And with the man Sarah had set her heart on. Sort of.
This is for Holly, she told herself as she drove home. The child needed female companionship, and her father was simply part of the package. At least that was what she tried to convince herself of.
She parked her car and hurried inside, so she could get ready. It had been so very long since she cared about her appearance that the thought felt strange, almost foreign to her. Inside, the house was dark, and everything smelled of old coffee. She went to the kitchen. She had forgotten to turn the coffeemaker off; she had been in a bit of a daze when she had left for her lunch date.
Venturing out to lunch with a friend had not been a part of the routine she had established for herself. She took the carafe of thick coffee, ran cool water in the pot, then added a bit of dish detergent.
“Later,” she said, followed by, “Now I’m talking to my coffeemaker!” She rolled her eyes, but inwardly she was thrilled that she could joke about such nonsense.
Before she could change her mind, she opened the drapes in the living room, then ran upstairs and opened her bedroom drapes. She looked at her bed. A pile of messy sheets twisted every which way. Quickly she made the bed, straightened the items on her night table, then went to her closet in search of something to wear.
Her clothes were top-of-the-line. Chanel, Prada, Stella McCartney, were just a few of the labels. Though they were almost a decade old, she knew they were still stylish. However, she was not going to the Oscars. She was going to Ollie’s for pizza. She snickered at the thought of wearing a designer dress to a pizza joint. She had lost a lot of weight in the past eight years. All of her slacks were too baggy, and her blouses hung from her shoulders. But, thanks to Rebecca, who was slender, and always thought of Ivy before she took a trunkload of last season’s clothes to a local consignment shop, Rebecca would choose a few items that Ivy could wear. Other than these clothes, she had not acquired anything new in years, other than the undergarments she ordered online. Thankfully, she found a pair of Ann Taylor jeans in a small size, then slipped them on and walked across the room to stand in front of the mirror. The fit was perfect, not too loose and not tight. She pulled them off and walked across the room, wearing her T-shirt and undies. And that was when she was hit by pangs of guilt.
“What am I thinking?” she asked aloud. “How can I do this? How can I act as though I am just a normal woman going out for pizza with a friend?”
She sat down on the bed. Tears blurred her vision, but she let them fall. She was making a big deal out of nothing, she thought as she wiped her nose on the hem of her shirt. She had to eat, didn’t she? And was it wrong to share a meal with others?
She didn’t think so.
For once, she was going to do what was expected of her by her father. If she bawled her eyes out later, well, she would have puffy eyes and a stopped-up nose.
And with that thought in mind, she headed for the shower.
Chapter 29
For the third time,
Daniel checked his reflection in the mirror. He needed a haircut, and it wouldn’t hurt his feelings if he lost ten pounds. His dark Levi’s were ironed to perfection, a skill he’d learned when Holly had started school. No more pleated skirts straight out of the dryer for his daughter, once she had started first grade. Though glad he no longer had to bother with the pre-K uniform, he’d continued to iron some of his clothes, which led to his becoming somewhat of a neat freak. As the years passed, he’d had way too much free time on his hands, hence the overkill with the laundry and folding his socks, which, come to think of it, was sort of odd. Holly teased him about his habits, deservedly so, he guessed, at least by most manly standards.
Checking to make sure that all the buttons were properly matched with the correct buttonhole, he made fast work of tucking his khaki-colored shirt in his jeans. He wore the same brown leather belt he’d had since his college days.
“Dad?” Holly called, and tapped on his door. “Hurry up, or we’ll be late.”
He smiled. “I’m good to go,” he said, and stepped out of the room to find that his daughter had also taken extra care with her appearance. She was dressed in a red jumper with black leggings, and the red UGG boots she had received for Christmas last year, along with the hair accessories Ivy gave her earlier in the day. Her cheeks were flushed. She looked adorable, he thought.
“Oh, my God, you have on way too much cologne.” Holly pinched her nose, even though she was grinning. “Ivy will think you’re trying to impress her.”
He was, but he wouldn’t say this to Holly. “It’s a new brand I thought I’d try out. On you. Apparently, it’s a bit strong,” Daniel told Holly. “And whatever you do, do not mention this to Ivy.” Hating to add this last bit, he felt he had no choice, since Holly sometimes forgot to filter her words before they escaped her pretty mouth.
“I won’t,” his daughter agreed.
“Then let’s not waste another minute.” Daniel gathered up his truck keys from the bowl he kept on a table in the entryway.
Though it was only half past six, the autumn air was sharp and crisp as they stepped out of the house. “It’s going to be a rough winter,” Daniel said.
“How do you know?” Holly asked while she waited for him to open her door.
Once he was in the driver’s seat, he cranked the engine over. “Just feel it in my bones. There’s a scent in the air, like a giant snowball heading our way, and my nose is a radar,” he joked.
“Dad, I do not want to be mean or anything, I know I’m in massive trouble for that note.” She paused. “I’m sorry I wrote that stuff, but all that aside, I am not three. I do not believe that your nose is a radar or that a giant snowball is heading our way. I used to believe that a zillion years ago. Just so you know.”
Daniel hadn’t a clue where his daughter’s conversation was leading, but he let her talk. He had not felt so at ease with Holly in a very long time. Instead of worrying about every little thing she did, he found it was nice to simply let her be herself, say what she wanted without fear of being punished. Though he would not admit it to her, he knew he’d gone overboard big-time with the math, but he would do anything in his power to steer Holly away from the career that had destroyed their future. Of course, though she was much too young to see the significance now, she would later. He was positive.
“Do you like Ivy?” Holly asked.
Daniel chuckled. “She seems nice enough. Why do you ask?”
Holly fiddled with her seat belt. “Because you’re being, like, super nice.”
He laughed even harder. “Am I really that bad?”
“No, you’re much worse, but it’s okay. I understand. You’re sad and lonely. You need a girlfriend, a grown-up to talk to. You need to stop spending so much time looking at your garden books, too.” Holly made this announcement as though she were a relationship advisor, like one of those online dating commercials that swore they would find the right partner if you joined them. He certainly did not need guidance in that department. Though to Holly’s credit, she was not aware that he’d dated a few women. He did not feel the need to add this to their adult conversation. Again, when she was in college, married, or, perhaps, a great-grandmother, he would talk with her about such things.
“I like my garden books. Like you like your Harry Potter books,” he said, and reached over to pat her. “I’m glad you like reading.”
“Then why don’t you tell me this stuff when I’m home? I always feel like I have to sneak to read. Especially now, and I haven’t finished Deathly Hallows, and I have to return it to the library this week. I can’t even check it out again because I have already gone past my limit. They only allow you to check a book out so many times, especially the popular ones. If I had a computer, I could just download the books from the library. They have an app for that, too, in case you didn’t know.”
Daniel was getting an earful from Holly and loving every minute of it. He made a sharp left, then another left turn, and pulled into the parking lot at Ollie’s. Saturday nights were always packed, and tonight was no different. He should have picked someplace nicer, a place where he could actually make a dinner reservation. Ivy probably thought he was ignorant of the finer things in life.
“I didn’t know that,” he said as he scanned the parking lot. Finding a space at the very end, he parked the truck, then turned to Holly. “You look really pretty tonight, just like your mom.” As soon as the words were out, he wanted to take them back. Not the pretty part, but the mom part.
“You really loved Mom, huh?” Holly asked as she unhooked her seat belt.
“I really did. She was very special to me.” There were times during their marriage that he’d wondered if she thought he was as special as he’d thought her to be. There was always that little nagging doubt that if she were to be given a choice between him and her career, her career would win first place. He hated having those thoughts. It’d been such a long time ago, but he had a daughter to think of, and he did not ever want her to have to choose between her family and a career, though he was of the mind that one could have both if one was willing to make sacrifices.
“Dad, for the third time, let’s go in. It’s getting cold out here.”
He was so focused on his thoughts, he had not heard her at all. “Sorry, come on, let’s go put our name on the waiting list.”
Inside Ollie’s, Daniel gave the hostess his name and told her there would be three in his party. She peered behind him as though looking for a third person. “It’ll be a few minutes,” she said.
Daniel nodded and stepped aside. His stomach was in knots. He had not been this nervous over a date since . . . ever.
Chapter 30
Ivy added a touch of cherry-red lipstick and made a face in the mirror. Surely, there was an expiration date on lipstick. Ivy looked at her reflection. The color was fine, just old. She took the jar of Vaseline she used for chapped lips and dabbed a bit in the center of her mouth. Closing her lips to spread the shine, she had a sudden flash of Elizabeth watching her while she put her makeup on. Sad, but in a new way, a way she had yet to decipher, there were no tears, no closing down the memory. Instead, she allowed herself to remember how she had dabbed pink lipstick on Elizabeth’s little rosebud-shaped mouth, then dusted her nose with face powder. Her daughter loved it when they “played makeup,” and so had she. She held back a sob, and her throat tightened. Taking a deep breath, she released it, slowly allowing herself to relax, allowing the memory to unfold without a physical reaction. She closed her eyes and remembered.
“How’s come I can’t go with you and Daddy?” Elizabeth asked. “I want to dress up, too.”
Ivy sat at her vanity table, adding the finishing touches to her makeup. “You will someday, when you’re older, I promise.”
“But when is someday?”
She laughed at her three-year-old daughter. “It will be here sooner than you think,” Ivy explained. And it would. There would be school proms, dates, and, most likely, a wedding day.
All in good time, Ivy thought as she reached for her tube of soft pink lipstick.
“Come a bit closer,” Ivy instructed her daughter.
She took the lipstick, dotting it on Elizabeth’s puckered little mouth. Then she took her powder puff and dusted her daughter’s nose. “Now let’s have a look.” She had pulled Elizabeth on her lap so that she could see her handiwork.
“Oh, I’m pretty, Mommy! Just like you,” Elizabeth said, then turned around in her lap to hug her.
“You’re much prettier,” Ivy said, and hugged her daughter a little bit closer.
“Will you teach me to do this when I’m big like you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ivy said, then set Elizabeth down.
Had she known that would’ve been her only opportunity to instruct her daughter on how to use makeup, she would have gladly stayed home and continued the lesson.
Ivy glanced at the clock on her bedside table. If she did not get a move on, she would be late, and she had always detested tardiness in any form.
Now would be a good time to return to her habit of days long past. Pushing all negative thoughts aside, she went through her sweaters until she found one that was halfway decent. A red cashmere, with long sleeves and a turtleneck. She pulled it over her head, then looked in the mirror again. Satisfied that her outfit was presentable, she brushed her hair, letting it fall across her shoulders and down her back. She needed a trim and a color, but for now, this was it. Satisfied, she slipped into her black suede boots and went downstairs. With a quick glance around to make sure she had not left on any lights or appliances, which should not be running, she found her keys and headed out the back door.
Butterflies danced in her stomach, a feeling she had not experienced in so long that it surprised her. She chuckled. “This is not a date,” she said aloud as she pulled onto the main road. And it isn’t, is it? Dates did not bring their children along. Or maybe they did?
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