by Sarah Morgan
Back at the house, Izzy went straight to the shower and when she came downstairs she found Flora in the laundry room.
Her hair was damp and curled madly so she’d obviously just come from the shower, too. Her cheeks were plump and pink and her smile when she saw Izzy was a friendly, welcoming curve. Everything about Flora shrieked comfort and warmth. She was like a bowl of hot soup on a freezing day.
Izzy felt her irritation mount.
“What are you doing?” She watched as Flora loaded towels into the machine.
“These were waiting to be done, so I thought I’d help.”
Panic swarmed down on her. “I don’t need help.”
She reminded herself that no matter what Flora did, Molly still needed her.
No one understood Molly the way she did.
Flora paused, towels clutched to her chest, a question in her eyes. Izzy had an uncomfortable feeling that the other woman could read everything in her head. She hoped that wasn’t the case.
“You’re a guest.” She grabbed the towels from Flora. “You don’t have to do laundry.” Guest, get it? Guest.
“I’d be doing it at home. You’ve been good enough to let me stay here so it seems only right that I help. Please let me.” There was a kindness to Flora that for some reason made Izzy feel worse.
And now she’d look rude if she didn’t let her help. It made her wonder if Flora had been put on this planet simply to make Izzy feel bad about herself.
“Whatever. In that case I’ll go and make Molly’s breakfast.”
There were footsteps on the stairs and her dad appeared, Molly in his arms.
“Look who I found upstairs.” He kissed Molly on the cheek and put her down. “How was the run?”
“It was great,” Flora said, and the words sounded genuine. “Honestly, it really woke me up. And I’ve never seen the river and the skyline at that time of the morning before.”
Aware that her dad was looking at her, Izzy tried to smile, too, even though she knew it was a poor effort.
“It was great,” she echoed, trying to sound convincing. She was exhausted with saying one thing, while meaning another. Was she thoughtful or a hypocrite? Tactful or manipulative?
“I’ll be back in time for lunch.” He glanced at his watch. “What are you going to do while I’m gone?”
Izzy turned her attention to her sister, knowing exactly how she’d love to spend the morning. “Shall we do some baking? Make cupcakes?” It was Molly’s favorite thing, particularly when they reached the decorating part.
She expected squeals of excitement and a hug, but Molly shook her head.
“I want to finish my painting with Flora.”
It was a kick in the guts. There had never been a time when Molly hadn’t wanted to bake with her. It was her favorite thing, although apparently not since Flora arrived.
“Maybe we could do both,” Flora said and Izzy felt a rush of humiliation that Flora might have guessed how hurt she felt. She didn’t want Flora to have access to her feelings. She didn’t want, or need, Flora for anything.
This situation was horrible, horrible.
She couldn’t be the first person to have gone through this, surely, although of course her case came with its particular complications.
“Don’t worry.” She worked at sounding cheerful. “I have a ton of things to do this morning.”
She’d write her blog. Maybe she’d even talk about the fact that her dad was dating. See if any of her commentators had anything useful to say on the subject. Why, she wondered, would anyone dive back into a relationship when they’d had their heart broken?
Why wasn’t her dad wounded or wary? Or if he was wounded and wary, why wasn’t that holding him back?
She wanted to think it was something inside her dad, an intrinsic optimism, rather than anything special about Flora. Did “the one” even exist? It was something she’d been thinking about a lot lately. Presumably not, or people wouldn’t get divorced. Unless the reason they were divorced was because they hadn’t married “the one.” In which case humans were obviously seriously bad at identifying the right relationship.
How could “the one” exist? It was illogical. There had to be any number of people you could be happy with, which basically made love a gamble. Izzy was well aware of the dangers of gambling.
Leaving Molly with Flora, she vanished to the sanctuary of her bedroom and tried to focus on her writing. Every now and then she closed her eyes and tried to block out the delicious gurgles of laughter coming from Molly in the kitchen.
Feeling sick, Izzy stared at the screen without seeing any of the words she’d written.
Her dad often said she was his hero. He was proud of the way she’d held the family together. Izzy hadn’t realized how fragile her position was or how quickly a hero could be replaced. Everything was going smoothly and then one day you turned around and you were no longer doing the laundry and your little sister no longer wanted to make cakes with you.
If things carried on like this, Izzy would no longer be needed.
Where would that leave her?
9
Flora
“You’ve moved in?” Julia stared at her. “All this happened at the weekend and you didn’t call?”
“I knew you were busy.” Flora rubbed her hand over her ribs. It hurt when she breathed in. Everything hurt. “Also, there was nothing you could have done. You don’t have room for overnight guests.”
“Going from dinner to moving in is a big step. Why are you hugging your ribs?”
“I went for a run yesterday and my bra is designed for yoga. I’m having trouble moving my arms. If I need anything from a high shelf, you’re going to have to get it.”
“You ran somewhere?” Julia broke off the conversation to ring up a bunch of freesias for a woman in a sharp suit. “Have a wonderful, blossoming, perfectly scented day!” She beamed at the woman, waited until she’d reached the door of the store and then turned back to Flora. “You? Ran?”
“I did. At five in the morning. It was beautiful, although I had to prize my eyelids open to see it. I watched the sunrise.” And tried desperately to keep up with Izzy without having a heart attack. She knew she couldn’t rely on Izzy to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
“I guess that’s romantic if you’re awake enough to see it. Did he kiss you? Propose?”
“I didn’t run with Jack. I ran with Izzy.”
“The teenager?” Julia leaned against the counter. “So now you’re best buddies?”
“Not exactly.” She couldn’t fathom Izzy at all. She’d spent all of the day before trying to make her life easier. She’d thought Izzy would appreciate having more time to herself, but it hadn’t turned out that way. When Molly had chosen painting over baking, Izzy had been hurt and Flora had been unsure how to handle it.
“I can’t believe you’ve moved in with him, when only last week you thought you were breaking up.”
“I haven’t ‘moved in’ exactly. And I have my own bedroom.”
Julia grinned. “Shame about that.”
“I wouldn’t want to upset little Molly. She’s adorable, Ju. I love her so much.” She thought about the uncomfortable moment with the coat. “And she’s so brave. You know she’s upset, but then she sticks her chin out and gets on with it. And she is so good at art. She doesn’t think she is, but the way she focuses and checks the perspective—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You love Molly. But what about Jack? Are you in love with him?”
Flora thought about the moment they’d shared in the garden. Not the chemistry, although that was exciting, but the connection. He was interested in her. He cared about her. He understood her. It was a little terrifying. “It hasn’t been that long.”
“Long enough for you to fall in love with his daughter. And now you’re living with him.”
“I’m not living with him in the sense you mean. I’m living with him because of life, that thing that gets in the way of everyo
ne’s best plans. My apartment is mostly underwater thanks to the leak, and I have nowhere else to go. He has a massive brownstone with five bedrooms. It seemed crazy to say no. Can I help you?” She smiled at two teenagers who were hovering by the flowers. Having talked to them and ascertained that they wanted something special for their mother’s birthday, she sent them away with large bunches of cheerful blue cornflowers. “Where were we?”
“You were telling me the guy basically owns a castle. Just remember the castle comes with a dragon.”
“If you’re talking about Izzy, she isn’t a dragon. She’s a wounded, grieving girl.” And hard to reach. Impossible to reach.
“Last week you were convinced she didn’t like you.”
“I don’t think it’s personal. I’m not sure she’d like anyone who tried to muscle in on the family. And I think I was probably being oversensitive. She invited me running.”
Julia made a sympathetic sound. “I hate to be the one to break this to you, but she was trying to kill you. Still, at least now I understand why you’re walking around like a robot with joint issues. Admit it—you can hardly move.”
Flora shrugged. “I admit it. Hugging, or anything that involves moving my limbs, is off-limits for a few days.”
Julia gave a wicked grin. “Let’s hope that today isn’t the day Jack decides to have athletic sex with you.”
Flora rubbed her thighs. “It’s not funny. I was trying to do some of the things her mother used to do.”
She forced herself to stop thinking about her aching limbs and made up a bouquet for one of her regular customers.
“The roses will last a week, Mrs. Mason, if you care for them properly.” She handed them over. “Trim the ends, then pop them into a vase with flower food and about a liter of water.”
“You’ve made them look so pretty, Flora. I’m going to put them right in water the way they are. They never need arranging when you’ve done them.”
Julia nudged her. “You’ve got company.”
Flora glanced up as Jack pushed open the door and strolled into the store. A few heads turned. Mrs. Mason’s eyes widened.
“Well now isn’t he a hottie?”
“Mrs. Mason!” Julia gave a shocked and delighted laugh.
“What? My grandchildren like to expand my vocabulary. And even without their help, I know an attractive man when I see one, and he is very handsome. Is he yours, Flora?”
“Oh! I—not exactly—I mean—”
“He’s hers.” Julia leaned forward, sharing a woman-to-woman moment with one of their favorite customers. “What do you think?”
They were both staring at Jack and Flora wondered whether it was too late to escape through the back window.
“I approve,” Mrs. Mason said. “He has strong shoulders. Good arms. I like a man with good arms. What about you?”
Julia pondered. “I like a man with—”
“Will there be anything else, Mrs. Mason?” Flora dived in before Julia could say something that might lose her a precious customer.
“No dear. Don’t worry about me.” Mrs. Mason waved her away in the most indiscreet way possible and then Jack approached and smiled at her.
Flora thought Mrs. Mason might be about to collapse at his feet.
“I’m Serena Mason. I’ve been coming here for years. I wouldn’t allow anyone else to do my flowers. Flora is so talented, as well as being one of my favorite people.”
Jack laughed. “She’s one of my favorite people, too.” He turned to Flora. “Are you free for lunch?”
“I am if she isn’t,” Julia said cheerfully and Flora ignored her.
She checked the time. “Ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes works for me. I’ll be in the coffee shop next door. Join me when you’re ready.” He walked away and Mrs. Mason sighed.
“What a dreamy man. Who will do the flowers at your wedding? You can’t possibly do your own flowers.”
“I’m not getting married so that’s not a problem that needs solving.” Flora bundled Mrs. Mason out of the door with her bouquet of flowers and hoped Jack hadn’t overheard.
“She’s not wrong. That man is dreamy.” Julia cleared up her mess. “It’s a shame he has baggage.”
“A child is never baggage!” Flora gripped the edge of the counter. Her heart was racing and she felt a little breathless. How could that one word produce such an intense response? “His girls are adorable, and an important part of his life.” She wouldn’t, couldn’t, think of them as baggage.
“Sorry.” Julia put her hand on Flora’s arm. “I hit a nerve.”
Flora opened her mouth to change the subject, but in the end all that left her mouth was the truth.
“I was baggage. I heard my aunt say it once. ‘My sister left me her baggage.’”
“Oh Flora—” Julia’s eyes were warm with sympathy. “You weren’t baggage. You were a gift, but your aunt was too blind to see it.”
“An unwanted gift. Believe me, there is no worse feeling for a child than knowing you’re unwanted.” And it was different, of course, because Molly and Izzy had Jack, but Flora didn’t want to cause them a moment of insecurity. That was more important to her even than her feelings for Jack.
And what were her feelings for Jack?
Was it love? Maybe. Or maybe she was simply enjoying the novelty of being with someone who seemed to be genuinely interested in her.
Flora walked, or rather limped, the twenty paces to the coffee shop. Every step was agony, her muscles screaming in protest as she moved.
If Izzy suggested running again tomorrow, she’d be in trouble.
Jack was sitting at a table by the window, and there was a coffee and her favorite chicken salad waiting.
“Do you want something stronger than coffee and water?”
“This is great, thank you.” She sat down and took a sip. “So why the surprise visit?”
“I wanted to spend time with you.”
“I’m living in your house.”
“I’m not sure if that makes our relationship more, or less, frustrating. We haven’t exactly had much alone time.” He moved his chair closer to hers and leaned forward. “I’ve been thinking about the summer. You can’t stay on your own in the house.”
Her heart plunged like an express elevator. “I understand.” She was going to have to find somewhere new to rent, and she’d have to do it quickly. “I’ve already started looking for somewhere to live.”
“You’re looking for apartments? Why?”
“Because I can’t face going back to the old one even if he manages to fix it. Even without the water disaster, there wasn’t much to be excited about.” It was unsettling to realize how much she was enjoying living as part of his family. Even the situation with Izzy couldn’t tarnish the shiny feeling she had when she woke up in the mornings. “But I understand that I can’t stay in the house, so don’t worry. I’m already working on a solution.”
“You’re misunderstanding me. You can stay with us for as long as you like, but I don’t want to leave you when we’re away in the summer.”
“You’re worried I’m going to have a massive party and trash the place?”
He laughed. “No, I’m worried about missing you. And whatever happens, you are not moving into another crappy apartment, Flora.” He reached across and took her hand. “We can do better.”
She probably should have been nervous about how much she liked the “we” in that sentence.
“I’ll try to make sure the next one isn’t so crappy.”
“I wish I could move you from the spare room to my room. It’s starting to drive me crazy.” His thumb made a slow circle of her palm and her heart beat as fast as it had when she’d been running.
“Me, too, but we have to take things slowly, I understand that.”
“If this feels bad, I can’t even imagine how it will feel to be on different continents for three weeks during the summer.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “Come with us to the Lake
District. I mean it.”
Excitement and euphoria mingled with trepidation.
He wanted her to join them on vacation. She was flattered. Excited. On the other hand, lakes? He was asking her to spend time in a place with lakes? She hated large bodies of water. The thought made her hyperventilate. She was a dry land person. She could tell him, but then he’d want to know the reason and she wasn’t ready to talk about that. Not even with Jack. She never talked about that.
But staying here meant three weeks with no Jack—and also no Molly—
Why couldn’t it have been the Caribbean? But then she would have had the sea to contend with. A nice city break? Paris? London? Anywhere but a place called the Lake District.
She shuddered.
“Do you think the girls would be okay with me coming?” She pushed her uneaten food to the side of her plate. “It’s the first time you’ve been on this holiday without Becca.”
“All the more reason to take you with us.”
“All the more reason to keep things as normal and familiar as possible.”
“It won’t be familiar.” He rubbed his fingers across his forehead. “Normal doesn’t look the same as it did. Whether you come or not, it’s going to be different. So come. Unless you don’t want this to be more than it already is.”
So far their relationship had drifted along. This was the first time either of them had made an attempt to define it.
“I…do want more.”
“Good. Because I do, too. So spend the summer with us.”
She thought about what it would mean. The Lake District. Lakes. On the other hand, there would also be Molly. Spending time with her would be so much fun. And Jack. And it would give her a chance to get to know Izzy a little better in a more informal atmosphere. Maybe it would be easier away from her own territory.
She’d just make sure to stay clear of all water activities.
