Waverly didn’t say anything. Was this Vivian’s way of apologizing to her? And, if so, did Waverly need to acknowledge it? They’d never really been like that in the past.
“I’m curious, Waverly,” Vivian continued. “You’ve never said much. But sometimes I wonder how you perceive your childhood. As a grown-up, what do you think when you look back over the way you were raised?”
Waverly shrugged. “Oh, I think I had a very unique and interesting childhood.”
“In other words, your mother was a weirdo. But you were always all right with that?”
“I suppose there were times, like when you’d be on a trip and I’d be staying at Aunt Lou’s, that I’d start to feel a little envious of their traditional home.”
Vivian looked slightly crushed. “You really wanted a traditional home?”
Waverly snickered. “Well, my jealousy was usually short-lived. I’d get a sneak peek at the underside of their so-called traditional home, and then I’d be thankful I wasn’t a full-time resident. And, of course, there was Janice. As a child I thought she was totally spoiled. I called her PB.”
“PB?”
“Short for Princess Brat. I gave her that nickname. Of course, I told her that PB stood for Pretty Baby or else she would’ve killed me.” Waverly laughed. “But she called me names too. Not just with initials either.”
“Like what?”
Waverly thought. “Let’s see…she called me Earth Worm and Art Freak and, of course, there was always Waverly Wafer. But it was Dippy Hippie that I really hated. I don’t even know why now. It’s not really that bad.”
“She probably called you that because I used to dress you somewhat unconventionally when you were little. Tie-dye and overalls and moccasins and things. I thought you looked adorable, and you fit right into San Francisco and the other places we lived, but it was rather unconventional for the likes of Boston.” Vivian peered at her. “Anything else I did that you’ve had to have therapy for?”
Waverly shook her head. “No, but I do recall how much I hated it when we’d move,” she admitted. “Not so much when I was little, more as I got older. I’d make a couple of friends, and then it was time to go. It was especially hard as a teenager. I guess that’s when I became such a loner.”
“Really, you felt you were a loner?” Vivian looked surprised. “Here I thought you made friends so easily. I’m sorry, Waverly.”
Waverly shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m over it.”
“But you’re right. We were fairly Bohemian,” Vivian said wistfully. “Moving about, starting new businesses, taking extended vacations in strange locales. But you did get to see a lot of the world, Waverly.”
“That’s true. I had a lot of experiences that most kids miss out on. I appreciate that.” She smiled.
“So you’re basically perfectly fine and normal then?” Vivian peered closely at her. “I don’t owe you some big apology for some horrid thing that I can’t remember?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’d tell me if I did?”
Waverly nodded. “Yes. But I do have a couple of questions.”
“Such as?”
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve called you Vivian. I don’t know why or how it started, but I know some people think it’s odd. Sometimes I want to call you Mom or Mother, but I stop myself. I know you don’t like that—being called Mother.”
“You don’t think I’d like to be called Mother?” Vivian looked stunned. “I would love it! Whether Mother, Mom, Mommy, Mama, Mummy—anything along those lines would be lovely.”
“Really?” Now Waverly was stunned. “Then why have I been calling you Vivian all these years?”
Vivian laughed. “Don’t you remember?”
“No.”
“I joined a commune a few months before you were born, down near Santa Barbara, and I lived there until you were about four. You had a number of caregivers in the commune, and everyone called everyone by their first names, and because you heard others calling me Vivian, you did too. At first I thought it was cute, but when I tried to get you to call me Mommy, you got mad. You stomped your little two-year-old foot and insisted my name was Vivian. There weren’t other children in the commune at the time, so you never heard the word mommy being used. So I simply acquiesced and let you call me Vivian. And so it remained.”
“Really?” Waverly tried to wrap her head around that. “It was because of me?”
“Oh, I suppose I sort of liked it too. Especially when you were older.” Vivian smiled sadly into her coffee cup. “It probably made me feel like we were friends, and I was younger. I suppose it had to do with my rebellion against tradition. But, honestly, if I had that part to do again, I think I’d do it differently. I like feeling like your mother, Waverly.”
“So, if I slipped up now and then and called you Mom, you’d be okay with it?”
“I’d be much more than okay.” Her smile brightened. “Now you said a couple of questions. What else is on your mind?”
Waverly was unsure, yet she needed to know. “It’s about my dad—my biological father.” She hesitated. The last time she’d brought this subject up was before she and Neil had gotten married, and the discussion hadn’t gone well then. “It’s not that I want to make you feel bad. It’s just that I’d like to have some idea—even if only for health reasons—who I’m related to. For instance, what if I have some DNA issues that I’m unaware of? What should I be watching out for?”
Vivian nodded. “Yes. You’re right. I owe that to you.”
“I’ve even wondered if perhaps there was a sperm donation involved. And that’s why you don’t want to talk about it.” Waverly braced herself for her worst fear.
“No.” Vivian laughed. “Not of the clinical sort anyway.”
“What then? Why the mystery?”
“I suppose I was simply thinking of my own needs. I wanted to forget about him—to pretend he never existed. But that wasn’t really fair.” She paused, as if trying to see into the past. “Your father was a good man. A very intelligent man.” She pointed to Waverly. “Like you, he was an artist. He was also a musician. He was a very wonderful person. In fact, since confessions are in order, he was the love of my life.”
Waverly blinked. “My father was the love of your life?”
She nodded.
“Then why didn’t you marry him? Or, even if you didn’t believe in marriage, why didn’t you just live with him? Why didn’t you stay together?”
“He already had a wife.”
“Oh.”
“And he had children. He wanted to do the right thing by them, and I never asked him to do more.”
“Did he even know that you were pregnant, that he had another child?”
She shook her head. “No. I spared him that. Really, what good would it have done? I was able to support myself. I certainly didn’t want child support from him.”
“You were such a modern independent woman.” Waverly wondered if she would be so independent under the same circumstances. Not that she ever planned to find out.
“Anyway, I hear he still lives in Santa Barbara. Same house. Although he’s retired. But from what I’ve heard, he’s in good health. I’ll be happy to give you all the information, so you can contact him if you like.”
“You really don’t mind?”
Vivian shrugged. “I suppose I wanted to think that I was enough for you, Waverly. That I’d given you life and freedom and education and experience and that you’d take that and run with it, making it your own.”
“And I appreciate that.”
“But you wanted more. You wanted a heritage, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I suppose I was a bit shortsighted—not to mention selfish.”
“No, I don’t think that.” Waverly put her hand on her mother’s. “I honestly believe that you gave me the best of what you had to give…Mom.”
Vivian smiled. “Thank you. And you have grown up
into an intelligent, beautiful, artistic, loving, and a moderately well-adjusted person.” Vivian studied her. “Though I was concerned for you for a while. It seemed you’d gotten into a rut after Neil died. That troubled me a lot.”
“Was that one reason you pried me out of Chicago?”
Vivian nodded.
“I appreciate that. I was in a rut. I was trying to make some small changes, but it wasn’t working out too well. Looking back, I suspect I was quite depressed.”
“That’s understandable. Losing Neil like that…well, it wasn’t easy.”
“Not at all.”
For a while they both sat quietly, looking out over the harbor. Waverly was mulling over their conversation about life and love and parenthood, yet she wasn’t upset by any of it. Mostly she felt peaceful and content.
Then Vivian set her coffee cup down with a thud. Waverly turned to look at her.
“Waverly,” she said firmly, “I have one more question for you.”
“All right. Go for it.”
“How do you really feel about Blake?”
Waverly felt her brows arch. “I thought you asked me that before.”
“Yes, but you were vague with me. You brought up the business about Janice, I believe, as a smokescreen.”
Waverly laughed. “And she was a good one, don’t you think?”
Vivian laughed too. “Yes. But now she’s not. I know it’s none of my business, and you don’t have to tell me, Waverly, but I’m curious.”
“Well…” Waverly thought about her answer. “I like Blake. He’s a good guy. And, yes, I like him.”
“But that’s it?” Vivian looked disappointed. “You just like him—end of story. That’s all?”
“No, that’s not all.” Waverly took in a long breath, blowing it out slowly. “The truth is I think—I think—I might be in love with him, Mother.” She giggled now. “That sounded so strange coming out of my mouth.”
“Which part? Being in love or calling me ‘Mother’?”
“Both.”
“But really?” Vivian’s eyes glittered with expectation. “You might be in love?”
Waverly nodded. “But it’s hard to admit that. I can’t help but think about Neil…the vows I made to him. And how I was so certain I’d never marry again after I lost him. Loving someone else feels like I’m betraying him.”
“Oh, darling, you made a promise to Neil—until death do you part—and you kept that promise. He is gone. Now you are free to love again. Don’t get me wrong. Neil was a truly wonderful man.” Vivian sighed. “I really did love him, and I know how much he loved you. But I believe Neil would want what’s best for you now. I’m certain he’d hate seeing you being so lonely. I think he’d be smiling down on this new development in your life. In fact, I think he’d be relieved to know that you’d found love again.”
“Really?” Waverly studied her mom’s expression. “You’re not just saying that?”
“I absolutely am not just saying that. I believe it with my whole heart. I think if you examine yourself carefully, you’ll find you believe it too.”
Waverly leaned over and hugged her. “Thanks, Mom!” Now she stood and stretched, shoving her feet into her flip-flops. “But do keep in mind that just because I finally confessed my true feelings for Blake to you doesn’t mean he feels the same way about me.”
Vivian just laughed.
“Besides, there’s Sicily to think about.”
“Sicily adores you.”
“Yes, as her friend. But one day when we were on the beach together, Sicily told me what her secret dream is.” Waverly felt heavy-hearted to remember this now.
“What was it?”
“Well, it’s a secret, but I know I can trust you.” Then Waverly explained about how Sicily dreamed of getting her parents back together. “Kind of like in the movie Parent Trap is what Sicily told me. Except that she didn’t have a twin sister to help her out. In fact, I almost got the impression she wanted me to help her out. Although how I was supposed to do that was something of a mystery.” She sighed. “Even more so now.”
“But that’s what all children want. I wouldn’t be surprised if you dreamed of that very thing when you were little.”
“Probably so.”
“And Gia is remarried.”
“I know.” Waverly pressed her lips together. “But I also know that Blake has some strong feelings of guilt. I don’t understand all his reasons, but I do know he has questioned his move to the Vineyard. It’s not easy for divorced parents to share a child with a whole country between them.”
“That’s true.” Vivian nodded. “In fact, Blake has mentioned that to me as well.”
“So,” Waverly said as she picked up their empty coffee mugs and things, “just getting me to confess my feelings regarding Blake doesn’t change much, Mom.”
She smiled to hear that word coming from her own lips.
Her mother smiled back. “That remains to be seen, dear. Time will tell.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
By the time Blake and Sicily made it back to Vineyard Haven, after the Edgartown parade and stopping for some other sights along the way, the barbecue next door, complete with festive music and laughter, seemed to be in full swing. He’d barely stopped the car when Sicily begged to go over and join in the fun. He told her to go ahead and that he’d put together the plate of appetizers—something he’d insisted on doing—and come over there shortly.
However, he felt torn as he arranged the veggies and dip on a big green platter. Part of him was like an impatient child, wanting to hurry because he was so anxious to see Waverly. Another part of him, also rather childish, was dragging his heels because he was so not looking forward to seeing Janice. But eventually the platter was complete and wrapped in plastic wrap, and he was carrying it down the well-worn path between their houses. As he walked, he prepared for the worst, while hoping for the best.
Judging by the cars spilling from their driveway and out onto the road, there were more than “just a dozen or so guests there.” But Blake was relieved since a larger crowd would make it that much easier to avoid Janice.
He was even more relieved when he spied Janice sitting in beach chairs with Reggie Martin and another couple. Thankfully, she didn’t see him. Feeling relieved, he hurried inside where he found Louise, despite the fact she’d hired caterers to help, still fussing in the kitchen.
“Oh, there you finally are,” she said rather testily. “I was beginning to wonder if you would show at all. But Sicily promised you’d be here.” She looked at his platter. “Oh, you shouldn’t have. But since we’ve had a few more guests than expected, I’m glad you did.” She leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “You’re a good boy, Blake, even if you did break my daughter’s heart last night.”
“I, uh, I noticed Janice was with Reggie out there.”
Louise laughed. “Yes, and I hope you’re not getting jealous, because I fear it is too late for you, dear boy. That ship has already sailed.”
Blake wanted to assure her he was not jealous but didn’t get the chance as she continued in a monologue that made him wonder if filibustering ran in the Grant family.
“Fortunately, Janice is a resilient girl. Thanks to the way you abandoned her at that party the other night, she has found someone new. Dear Reggie Martin played the valiant knight by rescuing poor Janice and bringing her home. And,” she lowered her voice, “they spent the whole day together yesterday. I just hope Waverly isn’t too upset by this new development. As I already said to you, don’t waste your time being jealous because that ship—the USS Janice—has sailed.”
Blake had to control himself from laughing. “Don’t worry about me, Louise. I’m very happy for Janice’s sake. I hope Janice is happy too.”
“I should say so.” She gave him a mockingly grim look. “Just in case you were worried, I do forgive you.”
“Thank you.”
“Now go outside and get yourself something to drink.”
/>
“How about you?” he asked. “Don’t you get to come to the party too?”
She waved her hand. “Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be there with bells on.”
As he went outside and got himself a soda from the ice chest, Blake felt like a giant boulder had been lifted from his shoulders. He couldn’t believe he’d been dreading this harmless little get-together so much. Was he really that cowardly? He took a sip of soda, then spotted Sicily seated at an umbrella table with Waverly and Vivian over on the side of the house.
“This seat taken?” he asked as he joined them.
“It’s for you, Daddy.” Sicily gave him her duh look. “What took you so long anyway?”
“Just puttering in the kitchen.” He sat down and smiled at them. “Nice to see you, ladies. You’re both looking lovely today.”
For a while they made small talk, and he was relieved to hear that Vivian was feeling better. “I told Lou I’d move back here with her tomorrow,” she explained.
“And Janice goes home tomorrow,” Waverly added with a knowing look.
“I hear that Janice and Reggie spent the day together yesterday,” he said.
“Yes,” Vivian said. “Louise told me that Janice is already making plans to come back here after Labor Day.”
He just nodded.
“And Mom can come stay with me then,” Waverly said, “if the beach house is too crowded with Janice there.”
Blake was surprised to hear Waverly calling Vivian “Mom,” but it sounded nice too. He made a mental note to ask her about that later. “So you plan to stick around that long?” he asked Waverly. “Through September?”
She shrugged. “Sure, why not? From what I hear, Vineyard winters are milder than Chicago—that in itself is something to look forward to. And I can’t complain about the scenery here. Plus, I haven’t even had time to take up my own painting yet. Winter should be perfect for that. Who knows? I may stay here indefinitely.”
“Really?” He tried not to look too pleased about this.
Sicily was nudging him now. “Daddy, will you come play Frisbee with me?”
Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard Page 25
