Page 62 of Taking a Chance on Charlevoix
“Why? What am I, your maiden aunt?”
Reaching over, Izzy squeezed Marlowe’s arm. “No, I just mean, why not?”
“Exactly, why not. Let me get settled first.” Marlowe wasn’t eager to date, whatever that meant up here. But a male friend? That would be fine.
“While I’ve got your attention, I want to run something by you before I tell Aunt Cate.” Izzy took the chair Brad had just left. “I hope you’ll support me with this.”
What was this about? The expression on her sister’s face had Marlowe concerned. “Is this something serious?”
“It's about the renovation.”
Oh, oh. Marlowe felt something coming. The men had been working on Marlowe's bedroom and yes they were gone by four o’clock almost every day. But even though Seth had taped down that room with huge plastic sheets, sawdust still clung to the air. Sometimes Marlowe could feel it in the back of her throat and always had a bottle of water handy. Once in a while they would find a screwdriver here or a hammer there. Seth had been apologetic but Holly was very curious. She was at the age when she put everything into her mouth.
“You need your own room. Bunking with Sam while they work on your room won’t really work.” Izzy’s eyes pleaded with her to understand.
What was this? But her sisters knew her well. All those dreams about late night conversations? They might be just that. Dreams. What if she woke up in the middle of the night and wanted to read? That could happen.
Still, she was about to protest when Izzy said, “I’m going to move in with Skipper.” The words came gently, as if Izzy was telling Marlowe that she had measles but it wasn’t contagious. “Just for a while.”
“What?” What had Izzy just said?
“Please hear me out.” Her sister looked so darned serious. “Skipper and his mother have a guest room and it should work out okay. The noise and sawdust…it’s just not good for Holly.”
“I thought Skipper’s mother was sick.” Marlowe searched her memory.
“She has a condition and uses a walker. Parkinson’s, I think. They have a huge house. Holly will have room to roam. We can come over and have dinner with you any night, right?”
“Absolutely.” Obviously Izzy had given this a lot of thought, but Marlowe’s heart shrank. She’d been looking forward to having that baby around. She couldn't help but wonder if there was some ulterior motive to this. “So you and Skipper...?”
“Don't even go there.” Holding up a hand, Izzy shook her head. “Nope. That’s not it.”
“Okay, well. Sure.” Marlowe looked around. The excited chatter was gone. Residents had gone back to their rooms to get ready for dinner. Some of the ladies dressed up for the final meal of the day. After putting away the Bingo supplies, Marlowe and Izzy were on their way home.
Home. Home with her family at Sunnycrest. But now that wouldn’t include Izzy and Holly, and Marlowe didn’t know how she felt about that. Her head was full of questions as they drove to Sunnycrest in Izzy’s SUV. After picking up Holly at daycare, they were at the house in ten minutes. Sam’s car was parked in front of the house, and her heart filled.
“So you made it,” Marlowe said when Sam met her at the door with a warm hug.
“Furniture should be here tomorrow,” Sam said.
Pulling back, Marlowe studied her sister’s face. She looked exhausted. “Tired?”
“Yes, but nothing that a little sleep can’t cure.”
Aunt Cate appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a Frida Kahlo apron Marlowe had never seen.
“New?” Marlowe asked, as they all took a seat.
“Oh you know me. Shopping is so much fun up here.” Aunt Cate smiled, pointing to the bruschetta displayed on a platter. Artichoke dip was also on the table, along with fresh bread and pesto.
“Brad Howington wants to go running with Marlowe,” Izzy announced to the group as they started on their arugula salads.
Sam turned with a quizzical smile. “How fascinating.”
“Said he’d show me the roads.” Marlowe tried to pass off Brad’s offer.
“Brad. The man at Tall Oaks?” Aunt Cate’s mind was clearly working as she passed around the bowl of pasta bolognese.
“Don’t get started,” Marlowe said, reaching for a thick slice of pesto bread. She would have to clue her aunt in about her theory of friends first.
