by Sarah Morgan
“But we usually do it with Mommy. We always do it with Mommy.”
“We do, that’s true.” Jack put his spoon down, too. “And we’ll miss her, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go if you’d like to. Aunt Clare is inviting us.”
There was a pause. Molly fiddled with her spoon.
“It would be weird without Mommy. Different.”
“It will be different. Sometimes in life we have to do things that are different.”
“Like when I started my school?”
“Exactly. Nothing stays the same, even when we want it to very much.”
“Do you think it would upset Mommy if we went without her?”
Flora felt tears scald her eyes and a hard lump block her throat.
“No, honey.” Jack’s voice was rough. “Mommy would want you to be having a good time and living a full life. She’d want you to be happy.”
How did he always know exactly the right thing to say? Everything he did came from a place of kindness. Rescuing her. Comforting his daughter. Every word, every gesture, reeled her in a little further.
“I’d like to go to Lake Lodge,” Izzy said. “I’d like to see Aunt Clare and Uncle Todd. It would be good to get away.” Her gaze slid briefly to Flora who was left with the distinct impression she was the one Izzy wanted to get away from.
“And Aiden,” Molly said. “You forgot Aiden.”
Seeing the flush spread from Izzy’s neck to her face, Flora had a feeling that Izzy hadn’t forgotten Aiden at all.
“Becca and Clare were at school together in the early days. Then Becca won a scholarship to a prestigious ballet school, and when she graduated she joined a ballet company in the US.” Jack included Flora in the conversation. “Clare’s parents are British. They live in a fabulous property in the Lake District.”
“There are mountains,” Molly said. “And we go sailing and climb trees.”
“We do.” Jack smiled at her. “We’ve been meeting up there every summer since before the children were born.”
“If we go, you’d be able to play with Chase,” Izzy said. “You love Chase.”
Jack nudged the bread closer to Flora. “Chase is the dog.”
“Because he chases everything.” Molly gripped her spoon. “Maybe we should stay here this summer.”
Because different was sometimes terrifying, Flora thought. Because sometimes the safe and familiar felt better. She remembered how terrified she’d been by the enormous changes in her life. “What are your favorite things to do when you stay with your aunt Clare?”
Molly nibbled at her bread. “Playing with Chase. And I like swimming in the lake. Mommy was a champion swimmer at school. She won everything.”
It seemed to Flora that Becca had been champion at pretty much everything. She wanted to know if there had been anything she’d done badly, and then hated herself for being so shallow and insecure. “Did she teach you?”
“Aunt Clare taught me.”
Flora imagined Becca poised at the edge of the lake, impatient to power her way to the other side.
Izzy finished her soup. “Do you like to swim, Flora?”
“No.” That was one thing she would never lie about. Water terrified her. No way was she pretending to love it. She should probably tell them the reason, but it wasn’t something she talked about. Not with anyone. “What else do you do when you’re there?”
“We play in boats. Aunt Clare taught us to sail.”
Water. Everything to do with water.
“That sounds like fun.” For someone who enjoyed water. That someone wasn’t her. “Did Mommy love doing that, too?”
Molly nodded. “Mommy was a brilliant sailor.”
Of course she was.
Flora was aware of Becca gazing down at her from her position on the kitchen wall. The photographer had caught her in the split second before she’d laughed and the result was an image full of mischief.
It seemed to Flora that she was laughing now.
You think you’re going to make my family fall in love with you? Think again.
She shifted her position in her seat so she could no longer see the photograph. “Is the lake deep?”
“You can’t see the bottom. We wear life jackets. Aunt Clare makes us.”
“And you love it,” Izzy says, “which is why we should go this summer. You’ll have me, and you’ll have Dad. It will be like being here, only better.”
Flora decided she couldn’t force any more soup down.
Jack was looking at his daughter. “You’d really like to go, Izz?”
“Yes.” Izzy pushed her bowl away. “It would be good to get away. I love Lake Lodge. I love seeing Aunt Clare. And I love fell running.”
“Mountains are called fells where Aunt Clare lives,” Molly said helpfully, seeing Flora’s blank look. “And it isn’t because people fell off them. I know because I asked.”
“The word fell comes from Old Norse word fjell,” Izzy said. “It means hill.”
Molly poked at her food. “I’d like to see Aunt Clare and Chase. But what if it feels funny without Mommy?”
“You could try some new things,” Flora said. “Things you didn’t used to do with your mommy. New adventures.” The suggestion won her an approving smile from Jack.
“Great idea. You could go rock climbing. You’ve never done that.”
A glob of soup dripped from Molly’s spoon onto the table. “Rock climbing might be fun. What else?”
“Horseback riding,” Flora said. “That’s always fun.”
Molly considered. “I’d like that.”
“So—” Izzy leaned across and mopped it up. “Is that a yes? We’re going to Lake Lodge this summer?”
“Let’s live with the idea for a few days and see how we feel. We’ll talk about it again before I reply to Aunt Clare. Family decision, right?” Jack finished his soup. “I have to go into the office for a few hours tomorrow. Will you guys be all right here?”
“I’m not working tomorrow,” Flora said. “I can help.”
“I have it covered.” Izzy stood up and cleared the plates. She shook her head when Flora stood up to help her. “You’re a guest, Flora. Guests don’t clear up.”
“Flora’s going to be living here for a while,” Jack said easily, “so you should let her help you, Izzy. You do so much around the place, it would be good to share the load. Maybe now Flora is here you’ll be able to see more of your friends. You deserve some time off.”
Maybe that was the answer. Lighten Izzy’s load. Pick up some of the household chores so that Izzy had more time to see friends.
Flora was filled with renewed optimism. “I’m happy to help in any way I can. I’d love to spend more time with Molly.” She smiled at the little girl. “We’ll have so much fun.”
“I don’t need time off.” Izzy stacked the dishwasher noisily, plates clashing against each other.
Flora flinched. Now what? Surely Izzy should be pleased about that. Julia’s children couldn’t wait to be excused from chores.
“You won’t be leaving before six thirty will you, Dad?” Izzy dropped cutlery into the basket. “Flora and I are running at five.”
Jack raised an eyebrow in Flora’s direction. “You’re a runner? You never mentioned it.”
And there was a good reason for that.
“It’s something I do now and then.” When she was late for work. When she felt threatened by some guy walking behind her.
Jack looked at her oddly. “Really? That’s…great.”
She had a feeling he didn’t think it was great at all, but she didn’t understand why. It made her realize that despite their growing closeness, there was still plenty he didn’t know about her and plenty she didn’t know about him. Most of what she’d learned about Becca she’d learned from Izzy, not him. It seemed Jack couldn’t bear to talk about her, and she didn’t want to make his pain worse by asking.
“I saw that there is a park near here.” She grabbed a napkin and wiped M
olly’s fingers. “We could take our paints, sit on a bench and paint what we see.”
Molly brightened. “Now?”
Izzy frowned. “We don’t go to the park after we’ve eaten. Molly reads her book and then goes to bed.”
“I’d like to go to the park.” Molly bounced slightly in her chair and glanced at her father for permission. “Can we?”
“Why not?” He smiled. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Izzy was tense as a bow. “But we never—”
“Sometimes it’s good to do different things, Izz.” Jack was as patient with her as he was with Molly. “We’ll go to the park for half an hour, that’s all. The fresh air will be good for all of us.”
“The park, yes,” Molly said. “But I don’t want to paint. I don’t like to paint anymore.”
“No problem.” Flora stood up. “I might paint, and if you decide to help me, that’s fine. Or I might just do some more drawing and you can help me color it in.”
Izzy slammed the dishwasher closed and Molly looked at her.
“Will you come, too?”
“Of course! You don’t think I’d leave you, do you?” Izzy ruffled her sister’s hair and bent to give her a kiss. “Fetch your coat in case it rains. The sky is looking dark.”
Flora had been hoping that Izzy would choose to stay at home, but it was clear the teenager didn’t intend to leave Molly’s side.
Flora grabbed the bag containing all her art equipment, and was halfway out of the door before she realized she’d left her coat on the back of the door in her apartment.
Jack frowned at the sky. “You don’t have a coat?”
“Not with me. If it rains, I’ll get wet. Don’t worry.” Flora hooked the bag over her shoulder. Molly was looking excited, and there was no way she was going to cancel this trip given that it had been her suggestion. “It will probably be drier outside than it was in my apartment.” Her joke didn’t have the impact she’d hoped it would.
“We must have a coat you can borrow.” Jack strode back into the house and tugged open a door. Reaching inside he grabbed a cream trench coat and thrust it at her.
“That’s Mom’s coat.” Izzy’s hand locked on his arm like a vice. Jack lowered his head and spoke quietly.
Flora couldn’t hear what he said, but Izzy let her hand drop. Bone-white with misery, fists clenched by her sides, she took a step back and allowed him to pass.
Both girls watched in silence as he handed the coat to Flora.
Becca’s coat.
She hesitated, and not only because she doubted it would fit. “I don’t think—”
“Wear it.” His voice was steady. “It’s no use having a coat that no one wears.”
Flora glanced at Izzy. Her mouth was pressed together, as if she was trying to hold back a thousand words she wasn’t allowed to speak.
Her pain was so tangible that Flora felt she could reach out and touch it.
While she was figuring out how to handle this latest situation, Jack took the coat back from her and held it in an old-fashioned gesture, giving her no choice but to slide her arms into it.
The sleeves were a little tight and there was no way she’d be able to do the buttons over her chest, but it would protect her from the worst of the rain if the dark clouds above them did as they were threatening to do. The storm she was most afraid of was the one building around her.
She looked doubtfully at the children, checking their reaction, and then Molly gave her a wobbly smile.
“It’s okay,” she said, and her bravery increased Flora’s growing affection for her. If she ever was lucky enough to have a little girl of her own, she hoped she’d be just like Molly.
She crouched down so that she was on the same level.
“This was your mommy’s coat, and it must feel very strange seeing someone else wearing it. If you’d rather I didn’t wear it, that’s okay.”
Molly shook her head. “I don’t mind. I thought I might, but you don’t look like Mommy.” She reached out and touched one of Flora’s curls. “Your hair is more tangled.”
For once, Flora was grateful for her misbehaving hair. She took Molly’s fingers and gave them a squeeze. “My hair,” she said, “is the most independent part of me.” She straightened and looked at Izzy, but the teenager avoided her gaze.
“Let’s do this,” she said, and slammed the front door shut so hard it shook the house and Flora’s brief moment of euphoria.
Despite that, the trip to the park was less awkward than she’d anticipated. Izzy bumped into a group of friends, and while they were chatting Flora and Jack took Molly on the swings and the slide.
Despite the earlier threat of bad weather, the sun peeped from behind the clouds and Flora left Jack with his daughter, settled herself on a bench and pulled her sketchbook out of her bag.
Ten minutes later, curiosity got the better of Molly and she joined her.
Sitting down on the bench, she peered at the sketchbook. “It’s a girl on a swing.” She bent closer. “She has a ponytail, like me.”
“It is you.” Flora tilted it toward her. “What do you think?”
“You drew me? Daddy! Come and see.” She shifted on the bench, her legs swinging, too short to reach the ground. She looked so young, and yet her view of the world had been changed forever. All the assumptions she’d made about family, love and security had been shattered.
Flora ached for her.
Jack sat down on the other side of her and leaned across. “That’s brilliant. Hey, Molly, it even looks like you.”
“Can I keep it?”
Flora carried on shading with her pencil, adding definition. “Of course.” When she was satisfied, she flipped over the page and started again, this time capturing the shape of the tree and the flowers.
Molly was watching so closely her nose almost touched the pencil. “Where did you learn to draw?”
“My mother taught me. When I was little she wanted to make sure that I paid attention to small things. Plants. Flowers. Trees. People.” She moved her pencil across the page. “She believed in really enjoying every moment and not wasting it worrying about yesterday or tomorrow.”
“Does it make you sad when you talk about her?”
“A little, but mostly I like it. It’s a way of keeping her alive and remembering her.” Flora kept sketching even though all her attention was on Molly. “Does it make you sad?”
“I’m already sad so it doesn’t change much.”
Flora resisted the temptation to hug the little girl. “What used to make you smile?”
“Dancing, but I don’t like to do that anymore.”
Flora nodded. “Anything else?”
“Painting.” Molly studied every pencil stroke Flora made. “You’re good at drawing.”
“Well that makes us a good team, because I can draw something and then you can color it. Would you like to do a sketch?” she asked casually, and was pleased when Molly nodded.
Flora set her up with paper and a pencil and the two of them sat quietly, Molly copying what Flora was doing. She worked carefully, her tongue caught between her teeth as she concentrated.
Flora felt Jack’s fingers lightly brush her neck and turned her head. His gaze was fixed on his younger daughter. She had a feeling he was holding his breath.
“That’s great, Molly.” His voice was rough. “I’ll put it on my wall at work.”
Flora watched as Molly concentrated. “You’re good. You pay attention. What do you enjoy drawing most?”
“Animals. I liked your fox.”
Flora flipped the page again and did a quick sketch of a horse. Molly giggled.
“I like it. Can you teach me to do one the same?”
Flora demonstrated stroke by stroke, while Molly copied her. They argued cheerfully about whether Molly’s drawing looked more like a cow than a horse.
“Definitely a horse.” Jack smiled at Flora across the top of Molly’s head. “You’re brilliant.”
In t
hat moment, the complexities of their relationship were forgotten. It was just the two of them.
“She is brilliant,” Molly said. “My horse doesn’t look like her horse.”
“A painting doesn’t have to look exactly like the thing you’re copying. Sometimes it’s just an impression.”
“Like Monet.” Molly switched her green pencil for a red one. “I know about Monet. Aunt Clare went to Paris and sent us a postcard. Mommy said she’d take us to Paris one day.”
“I promise we’ll go to Paris.” Jack stretched his legs out. “If you’d like to.”
“Would Flora come?”
“Would you like her to come?”
Flora held her breath, knowing this could go either way. But Molly nodded.
“Yes. She can tell us about the paintings.”
Jack winked at her. “It’s not that we like you or anything. Just that we need a tour guide.”
Flora was laughing, but Molly frowned.
“We do like her. You’re silly, Daddy.”
“I am. I’m very silly.” He seemed lighter, younger, when he was with Molly. It made Flora feel lighter, too. Hopeful.
Warmth spread through her as she acknowledged that Molly seemed to be accepting her, at least on some level.
“Why are you all smiling?” Izzy appeared in front of them like a dark cloud on a sunny day.
Molly thrust her picture out. “My drawing is like Monet, and we’re all going to Paris. Flora is coming, too.”
Izzy’s expression froze. “When? We agreed to stay with Aunt Clare this summer.”
Molly’s jaw jutted out. “I want to go to Paris.”
“We’re going to spend summer at Lake Lodge, like we always do.”
“Can Flora come with us there?”
“No!” Izzy spoke quickly. “Flora has a job. And this is a family holiday. Flora isn’t family. It would be awful for her to be with a bunch of people who have known each other forever.”
And just like that the door slammed shut on the family group with Flora on the wrong side.
It hurt more than she would have expected it to, given that being on the outside was something she was used to.
All the lightness and laughter had been sucked from the air. The warm, hopeful feeling vanished.
“We still haven’t decided what we’re doing this summer.” Jack stood up. “Time to go back to the house.”
