Page 12 of Second Chance in Charlevoix
Izzy wasn’t home yet when Marlowe arrived. Tonight was bingo at Tall Oaks, the retirement community. Neither one of them could spare the time, especially Izzy. But Marlowe figured it would be a good way to meet people. A lot of the seniors had adult children who visited. They were at the age when they might think of selling their homes. That had been Marlowe’s strategy. And that was way before she met Brad Howington, the owner. With his dark hair and chocolate eyes, Brad was devilishly handsome. All the older women thought so too.
Handsome men thought way too much of themselves, or so Marlowe had discovered when she lived in Naples, Florida. But Brad’s kindness with his residents was disarming. Brad also spent time with thebingo volunteers. Apparently he was a runner and had offered to show her the best trails. That’s all Marlowe was counting on, all she wanted right now, considering the relationship mistakes in the past.
Checking her watch, Marlowe had to get a move on. As she took the front steps two at a time, she popped off her earrings and unbuttoned her red jacket. Spring was in the air and her spirits ran high as she hummed “She Works Hard for Her Money.” Today she’d closed on her first Charlevoix property. Although the price point had been way below what she’d sold in Naples, a nice couple with teenagers bought the house. The neighbors had been happy because they wanted year-round residents. And the sellers had been very grateful when Marlowe skillfully encouraged some competitive bidding.
Like Naples, Charlevoix was a desirable place to live year round or as a summer home. Gabby Driscoll, the woman who’d taken Marlowe into her real estate agency, had been very pleased with the news. When Marlowe swung by the office of Driscoll and Associates that day, a vase of pink roses sat on her desk. She suspected that Gabby’s husband Chip had gone out to buy the flowers when he heard the news of Marlowe’s success. He took care of that kind of detail, or so Marlowe had learned. Gabby was a whirlwind, always in motion.
Bursting into the room she was now sharing with Sam, Marlowe was dismayed to find Sam’s cat curled up on the window seat. Trying to steer clear of Piper, Izzy’s dog, Bogart spent most of his time in the bedroom. The poor thing. Although she was sympathetic, Marlowe sure hoped that Izzy would come up with a moving date so that Marlowe could have her own room again. She’d been evasive the night before when the question was raised. Sharing Sam’s bedroom didn’t seem to be realistic, not at their age. And Marlowe was not a cat person.
Giving her a guilty look, as if he had no right to be there, Bogart disappeared under the bed. Piper barked from some place downstairs and Marlowe shivered. Maybe Izzy would be taking Piper with her. But Marlowe imagined that adding a dog to Izzy and the baby would be a lot for Skipper’s aging mother to handle.
Shedding her red suit and white silk blouse, Marlowe tugged on faded jeans and an oversized sweater. After jamming her feet into a pair of Skechers walking shoes, she dashed downstairs to make herself a quick peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Sitting there dreaming about the upgrades Seth Barrett was planning for this outdated kitchen, she heard the front door open. “I’m home,” Izzy sang out.
“In the kitchen,” Marlowe called back. Sometimesthis felt like old times, and Marlowe loved that. If she was back in Naples, she’d be coming home to an empty condo with a spectacular ocean view. Sunnycrest offered the love and support of family. Leaving her sandwich, she went to help her sister. She had a million questions for Izzy and they all pertained to Skipper, Izzy’s ex, and her sister’s plan to move in with him. But Marlowe had to be careful. Their baby sister, as she’d been known for years, had a sensitive side. She didn’t like to have her decisions questioned. What adult woman would? By the time she reached the front door, Izzy had taken off Holly’s jacket and was struggling with her own.
To make things easier, Marlowe reached for the baby. Since she’d been living here for a while, Holly had become more familiar with her. “Oh my sweet little baby girl,” she whispered against Holly’s silky dark hair.
“Ba-bee,” Holly giggled, turning her face into Marlowe’s neck.
“She picks stuff up fast.” Marlowe kissed the baby’s damp curls.
“That’s what Mrs. Goodman says.” Izzy chortled. “The good stuff and the bad. Holly is like a parrot, or so the teacher says. Thank goodness we don’t use swear words in this house.”
“Exactly. We better get a move on. We have bingo tonight.”
“I know.” Looking frazzled, Izzy ran a hand through her long blonde curls. “I’m glad bingo only goes until eight o’clock. I have to start packing.”
“Maybe Sam can sub for you tonight.” With the baby in her arms, Marlowe looped an arm around her sister and coaxed her toward the kitchen.. “Do you have a date for the move?”
Izzy shrugged. “Probably Sunday…unless Skipper has other plans for his pickup truck.”
The funny note in her sister’s voice made Marlowe look closer. “What kind of plans?”
“I don’t know.” Izzy dropped her eyes but Marlowe didn’t miss the tremor of her lips. “A woman came into the shop today and asked to see Skipper. They knew each other in P-Paris.” She could hardly get the word out.
“Paris?” Marlowe needed more details. After the divorce, Skipper had taken off for Europe. Eventually he ended up in Paris, where to everyone’s amazement, he studied patisserie. “Okay, is she single? Were they a couple back then?”
“All I know is that they met in Paris.”
So that’s how it was. Marlowe’s concern ratcheted up. “And what exactly was she doing?”
Tilting her head to one side, Izzy smiled up at Marlowe and batted her eyes flirtatiously. “Stuff like this. Apparently she’s a pastry chef at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island.” Izzy’s tone of voice said it all.
Marlowe reached out her free arm for a hug. The poor thing. Izzy had way too much on her plate right now. “That’s how she met him. In patisserie classes, I guess. Checking out Charlevoix, she recognized his pear and almond tart. I put that sign in the window.” Izzy’s voice was filled with regret.
Her crestfallen expression was exactly how Izzy had looked when she didn’t make senior varsity cheerleading after being on the squad junior year. Marlowe would have to choose her words carefully. “Not to worry. This doesn’t matter, right? I didn’t think you had any feelings for Skipper.” Hadn’t Izzy made it plain that she was never going back to her ex? That’s what made this shift to his house possible.
“That’s what I thought too.” When Izzy raised her blue eyes, they were troubled. “So why do I feel like tearing my hair out?”
Such misery. “Maybe you’re just tired.”
“If she tries to hire Skipper, what will I do?” Izzy slumped. Then her eyes flashed up. “Oh, and one more thing, Marlowe. Can I ask a favor?”
“Of course.” What now? Marlowe had never said no.
“Could you take care of Piper for me when we move to Skipper’s place? A dog might be too much for Mrs. Malone.”
How could Marlowe say no? “Of course. She’s used to being with us.”
