by Sarah Morgan
A lump formed in her throat. “How do you know so much?”
“I don’t know much.” He set his drink down on the jetty. “But I know you.”
She felt a slow warmth spread through her, a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun.
“It’s complicated.”
He said nothing, just waited quietly, offering companionship but nothing else. No judgment. No pressure.
“It’s been a totally crap year. Horrible. I wanted to spend the whole time under the bedcovers, but lay there every morning knowing that if I didn’t get out of bed our lives would fall apart. I felt needed. I was needed. I helped with Molly, with the laundry, I cooked—” The words slipped out slowly at first, wriggling past the barriers she’d held in place for so long. But he was such a good listener, and because he really did understand her, the barriers opened and the words started to flow.
And Aiden listened quietly, making the occasional murmur of understanding, asking a question or two, glancing at her just often enough to show that he was listening but not so often it made her feel uncomfortable.
“It’s been tough. And it isn’t getting better. It’s just different. Weirdly, it might be even tougher lately.”
He nodded. “Do you like her? Flora?”
How did he know that her biggest issue right now was Flora?
She glanced at him. His eyes were a warm shade of brown. Interested. Caring.
She liked the way he looked at her. It made her feel tingly and aware of every single part of herself. “I don’t know her that well.”
“That’s what you say when you don’t like someone, but you’re not ready to admit it.”
Izzy turned back to the water. “It’s not her fault. I mean, she tries so hard to make us like her it’s almost painful to watch. And Molly falls for it of course. For months I was the one who held her when she cried. I cooked her meals. I read to her. I even let her sleep with me. I’ve washed her sheets when she’s wet the bed—” she glanced at him, her gaze fierce “—and if you as much as mention that—”
“I wouldn’t.”
She sighed. “It’s all Flora this, and Flora that, like she’s been bewitched or something.” Embarrassed by her own indiscretion, she took another swig of her drink. The truth was thinking about Flora made her feel bad about herself. The nicer Flora was, the angrier Izzy became. She didn’t know why. “Forget it. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.” And now Aiden was going to think she was a total bitch. Maybe she was. A nice person would have embraced someone like Flora, wouldn’t they? She hadn’t fed them a poisoned apple or anything. It could have been a lot worse.
“Molly really likes her?”
“Oh yeah. It’s a mutual lovefest.” She knew she sounded bitter but she couldn’t help it.
She waited for Aiden to say that it must be nice for Molly but for a few minutes he said nothing at all. He just stared at the water, thinking. Then finally he stirred.
“That must hurt your feelings. And the fact that she’s nice—that kind of sucks, too.”
“What do you mean?” It did suck, but she wasn’t about to admit that when she already felt as if she had a “mean girl” neon sticker on her forehead.
“Well, it makes hating her an uncomfortable experience, because she isn’t giving you good reason. Always assuming that you do hate her, which I probably would in your position.”
Izzy swallowed. “You would?” No one understood how she was feeling. Not her family, not her friends.
But Aiden understood.
“Yeah. I mean, your world is all screwed up and in she steps, Miss Perfect. And she’s not putting a foot wrong, from the sounds of it. If you want my opinion, I think it’s kind of selfish that she isn’t giving you a single reason to hate her.”
Izzy choked on a laugh. “I can’t believe you just said that. You’re so bad.”
“I’m not. And neither are you.”
“I feel bad. Like I’m a truly horrible person.”
“As you said—it’s a crap situation, and none of it is in your control. You’re not calling the shots. Flora has it much easier.”
Izzy thought about Flora, red-faced and out of breath trying to keep up with her. Flora, trying not to look at all the photos of Becca that adorned the house. Flora, looking a little lost. “I don’t think it’s easy for her.” She felt a flash of guilt. “I’ve made it pretty tough. The harder she tries, the more I withdraw. I can’t help it. I just don’t want her around and there is no real reason for that.”
Aiden swatted a fly. “Your family changed shape, and you’re not ready for it to change shape again. I’d say that’s reason enough.”
“How do you always know exactly what to say?”
“I don’t. But in this case it’s obvious.”
“You don’t think I’m terrible?”
“I think you’re human. So what did you do to Flora? Put a frog in her bed?”
Izzy tried to smile. “Went out of my way to make her uncomfortable mostly. Baited her into doing stuff she doesn’t normally do. But it hasn’t worked. Nothing I do seems to shake her. I mean, it has to be hard but she just endures it, like she’s willing to take the punishment. Or maybe she just loves my dad or wants his money or something and is willing to do whatever it takes.”
“Why do you think she wants his money?”
“I don’t know.” She knew for a fact that Flora had insisted on paying for her own flight ticket because she’d been in the kitchen when she’d booked it. “Ignore me.”
“Maybe she’s a realist. If she’s hanging out with a ready-made family, she has to take the good with the bad. And maybe she’s just not used to being part of a family. It’s like—” he thought about it “—like learning to play with an orchestra when you’ve only ever played solo.”
“Why does she even care what I think of her? Why is she trying so hard? It’s not like I’m the one she’s dating.” The journey and the jet leg suddenly caught up with her and suddenly Izzy felt exhausted and emotional.
“Because if she’s going to be with your dad, she knows she has to get you to like her, too.”
“And I can’t do it. I don’t know why. And it’s not like I want my dad to be miserable. I want him to be happy. So why can’t I just be happy for him?”
“Honest answer?”
“I don’t know. Am I going to hate your honest answer?”
“You could never hate me. I’m way too cool and handsome. And my family owns a boathouse, so that’s worth sticking around for.” He looped his arm round her shoulders. “So this is what I think. You’ve been through hell. You’re sad. Grieving. Surviving, day to day. And then suddenly your dad brings someone home and it all changes. He changes. Whether it’s true or not, he seems to be moving on. And now Molly is smiling for the first time, and seems to be moving on, too. And now you have all this change to handle again, and you feel threatened.”
“That sounds about right.” Her throat was clogged. “I don’t want to hate her, but I can’t make myself be nice because she’s—how did you describe it?—reshaping our lives and I have no say over it.”
“And you had no say over losing your mother, either. It’s okay to struggle with it, Izz. You don’t have to pretend it’s all okay and be this fake perfect person. You’re allowed to be angry and sad. You can yell and cry.”
“You’d totally freak out if I cried.”
“I’d push you in the water.”
She gave a snort. “Is that what you’re going to do with your upset patients when you’re a doctor?”
“Drown them? It’s one solution, although probably not one the medical board would approve of.”
She sniffed. “Normally I pretend I’m fine. People don’t want to see you upset. They want you to be okay.”
“I’m not ‘people.’ I want you to be you.”
“I think what hurts most,” she confessed, “is that Molly loves her so much, and that sounds crazy I know because nothing would be worse t
han Dad dating someone we both hate. And that’s what I mean—the way I feel makes no sense. I should be pleased, shouldn’t I?”
“Why?” He took another swallow of his drink. “Apart from all the other obvious issues, you lost someone you loved. And now it feels like you’re losing someone else, too.”
“That’s it exactly.”
“But you’re not losing her, Izz. You do know that, right? You’re not losing Molly. She adores you.”
“Does she? I used to be the one she clung to. I was her life belt until Flora showed up.” Izzy stared at the water. “The hardest, scariest thing is that I don’t feel needed anymore. And if I’m not needed, then—”
“Then what are you? You’re loved, Izzy, that’s what you are.” His arm was heavy and protective around her shoulders. “You don’t have to earn your place in a family. You’re born into it. Your dad doesn’t love you because you help out with Molly, although I’m sure he’s grateful for that—he loves you because you’re you. Unless—” He paused, suddenly cautious. “Is this about—”
“No!” But it was, of course, at least partly. She felt her eyes fill and stood up quickly. This was the point where the conversation had to end. “I’m just being stupid.”
“Does Flora know about that?”
“I don’t think so.” The thought that her dad might have talked about intimate things with Flora made her feel even more insecure.
Aiden stood up, too. “Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t do that.” He gripped her shoulders. “We share how we feel. We don’t dress sad in a smile, ever. We tell it how it is. We’ve always told each other everything.”
Not quite everything.
She managed a smile. “It’s fine. Honestly. Talking was good, but I think I’m done with it now. My head is exploding. Best to just shove me off this dock and plunge my head in cold water.”
He laughed. “I couldn’t do that to a guest.”
“No? Then I’ll go first.” She shoved him hard and he flew, his plunge into the water covering her in droplets of water.
She gasped and swept her soaked hair away from her face. She was laughing, and fortunately so was he.
“You—” He spluttered, coughed. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Me neither.”
“So you have a choice, Isabella.” His tone was deceptively pleasant. “Either you jump, or I’m coming up there to get you.”
“I can move faster than you.”
With his hair slicked back and water clinging to his eyelashes he looked like the lead from a teen movie. “I may not be a track champion, but I can run fast when there’s something worth running for.”
Was she that something?
To cover up what felt like an awkward moment she tugged off her T-shirt and her shorts and jumped without giving herself time to think about what she was doing.
She hit the water hard and sank under the surface. Sound was muffled, something soft brushed against her leg and she wanted to scream, except that then she’d drown and also screaming was for babies. She didn’t want Aiden to think she was a baby.
She surfaced, gasping and he pulled her toward the dock.
“Refreshing, right?”
“That’s not the word that almost came out of my mouth.” She swiped her face with her palm, clearing her vision. “Something is stroking my leg.”
“My hands are both visible.”
“That’s what’s worrying me.”
“Quit worrying. The wildlife here is friendly.” He tugged her toward him. She could feel his thigh brush against hers. Solid. Strong. “I’m glad you’re here, Izz.” The look in his eyes made her heart thump a little harder.
“You mean here in this water?” She knew he didn’t mean that, but she needed to hear him say it. It embarrassed her that she’d become so needy.
“I mean here in my home. With me.” He lifted his hand to her face, rubbing away droplets of water with his thumb. It made her shiver, but not because she was cold. She clutched his arms, feeling the swell of his biceps under her fingers. His skin was cold from the water, but all she felt was heat. Searing heat.
For the first time in months she was thinking of nothing but him. Aiden. All the rest of it faded. The anxiety and the anger. The misery and the confusion. All that was left was excitement. That delicious feeling in the pit of her stomach and low in her pelvis. She didn’t care whether this was love or not, because she wasn’t even sure what love was anyway. All she knew was that being this close to him was electrifying. Had it felt this way last time? No, she didn’t think so. Maybe her dad and Molly weren’t the only ones changing.
She pressed her lips to his damp skin. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
12
Flora
What was she supposed to wear?
She was a child again, confused and alone, desperate to make a good impression.
It wasn’t that Clare hadn’t been polite—she had been perfectly civil—but civil wasn’t warm, was it? Civil wasn’t enthusiastic. It was a mark of good manners. There was little worse than being tolerated, and she knew that right now she was being tolerated for Jack’s sake.
All the power she’d felt when she’d confronted Celia had drained away. This was different. This mattered.
She heard Jack’s laughter through the open window as he chatted easily with his friends and she stepped closer, staying out of sight as she watched him. He was entirely comfortable with these people, and it hadn’t occurred to him that she might not be.
He was standing, beer in his hand, laughing and talking to a man who had his back to her. Todd, presumably. Todd, who had no doubt adored Becca.
And there, shimmering in the sunlight at the end of a long sweep of grass, was the lake.
Flora felt the stirrings of panic lodge in her throat.
Should she say something? Should she tell them? No. It would mean talking about something she didn’t want to talk about.
There were plenty of other activities on offer here. There was no need for her to go on, or even near, the lake.
Molly was playing with Chase, their antics producing a symphony of barks and girlish giggles. Flora found herself smiling as she watched them. They were having so much fun.
It was such a contrast to the cold, sterile life she’d had with her aunt that for a moment Flora struggled to breathe. This was the type of home most people dreamed of having. It wasn’t about the surroundings, although the place was idyllic, it was the feeling of love. She watched as Clare wiped Molly’s hands before giving her an ice cream. She was an attentive, engaged mother and she reminded Flora of her own mother.
To distract herself, she glanced across the garden.
There was no sign of either Izzy or Aiden, but no one seemed concerned about that.
Flora was concerned. She was worried about Izzy and had tried raising it with Jack a couple of times, but he hadn’t seemed worried at all. Their relationship was going so well, she didn’t want to threaten it by overstepping. She wasn’t his wife. She wasn’t the girls’ mother. There was nothing formal about their relationship. She didn’t have a role, and yet she felt responsibility.
As she stood there, still wearing the robe Clare had thoughtfully left out for her, Jack saw her and smiled and raised a hand. Todd turned, glanced up at the window where Flora had thought she’d managed to hide, and waved, too. She had no choice but to wave back.
Great.
Now they all knew that she’d been skulking, watching them, too cowardly to go downstairs and join them.
What would Becca have worn for their first evening together in the garden? Probably something flowing and white, with casual loops of silver round her neck and in her ears, and her hair scooped up into a messy bun that would have looked effortlessly elegant. She would have sipped champagne from a tall flute, rather than grabbing a beer bottle. She would never, ever, have doubted her welcome.
Flora laid two dresses si
de by side on the bed. A blue sundress with thin straps that was her favorite, and a white one she’d bought on impulse from a boutique in Greenwich Village.
Which would make her feel most comfortable? Dressing like herself, or dressing like Becca? As an experiment she scooped her hair up and fastened it at the back of her head. It fought her attempts to contain it, twisting and curling around her face until she looked like a Jane Austen heroine after a mad dash on horseback.
On impulse she texted Julia.
Having clothing crisis. White or blue?
The reply came back moments later.
White? You? Are you kidding me? Unless you’re getting married, wear color! Be yourself!
Be herself.
She lifted her chin, trying to look confident and then she heard the thunder of feet on the stairs and Molly appeared in the doorway, breathless and pink cheeked.
“Why are you pulling faces in the mirror? Why aren’t you dressed? You need to come and play.”
Flora scooped her up and swung her round, flooded with gratitude. The child was almost too big to be lifted, but she felt Molly’s arms creep around her neck and hitched her more securely. She breathed in the fresh, clean smell of strawberry shampoo and sun-warmed child. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to savor that uncomplicated moment of unreserved affection. She still hadn’t dared examine her feelings for Jack too closely, but she was almost entirely sure that she loved his younger daughter. She’d always wanted children of her own, and spending time with Molly had simply increased that yearning. “Have you been having fun?”
“Yes, but I want you to come outside. Everyone is there.”
“I need to change.”
Molly frowned at the choice on the bed. “Don’t wear white. If you wear white you won’t be able to play in case you get dirty. And Chase will get you muddy and then you’ll be mad.”
“I would never be mad with Chase.” Flora lowered her to the ground. “I’ll wear the blue.”
