Page 20 of Second Chance in Charlevoix
Not another change of plans. A meeting was not what she needed right now. “Maybe later, okay?” Coffee in hand, Marlowe edged toward the door. “I need a shower and I don’t want to be late for my appointment in Petoskey.”
“Okay, no problem. Another time.” Her aunt waved her away.
“That will work better.” Nodding at Seth, she trekked to the back stairs and made her way upstairs. The sound of an electric saw sheared her nerves and she quickly disappeared into the bathroom, taking a long terry robe with her.
Oh, how she wished that her bedroom was finished, along with that wonderful private bathroom. But it wasn’t the renovation that occupied her mind while she shampooed her hair. Marlowe couldn’t stop thinking about a tall man who appreciated mushroom houses.
Chapter 10
Isabel
When Izzy came out Monday morning, the Malone kitchen was just as she remembered it. The owl curtains still hung in the windows. Skipper’s mom had a thing for owls. The owl salt and pepper shakers sitting on the table had a distinctive fifties feel, and so did the clock.
The big old stove went back a long time but it had a huge oven. Skipper’s mom had always been a great cook who could whip up a meal out of breadcrumbs and leftover beef roast. Her dinners were basic but good. A white farm sink bore the stains of decades. Skipper had left early in the morning. Because she was in the first floor bedroom, Izzy had heard him trying not to make noise in the kitchen. Apparently he’d already brought his mother down from the secondfloor.
“Good morning!” Izzy sang out as she passed through the living room, her throat not fully awake yet.
“Morning.” Mrs. Malone sat in front of the living room TV. She was watching the news––something Izzy avoided at all costs. But she’d have to pick her battles carefully. The reception yesterday when they arrived had been anything but cheerful, although Mrs. Malone seemed captivated by Holly.
After lugging in all her baby equipment under watchful eyes, Izzy could barely choke down the pizza Skipper insisted on picking up from Lucky Louie’s. When was the last time Izzy slept in another bed besides Sunnycrest? She couldn’t remember. But Izzy figured she was exhausted because she’d slept well. And Holly hadn’t awakened during the night.
But now her little girl sat in her highchair, hammering the tray with a spoon. Jumping up, Izzy rushed to open the cupboard where she'd stored all of her food for the baby. Taking down some Cheerios, she scattered them on Holly’s tray. Then she fixed a bowl of oatmeal, sprinkled it with dabs of crushed pears and handed Holly a spoon. The porcelain bowl with the ABCs was one of the things she’d brought from Sunnycrest. Watching Holly eat, Izzy felt anchored.Pretend you’re home at Sunnycrest.
But she wasn’t. The TV in the living room droned on. Wars, murders, disastrous weather. Did she really have to listen to this? She darted a glance ather little girl. A small TV was perched on the counter and she pictured Mrs. Malone watching it while she ate her meals here with Skipper. Stepping over, she was delighted when the TV snapped on. Working with the remote, she was able to findSesame Street.
“Big Bird,” Holly said, clear as could be. Then she tried to smash that huge spoon into her mouth. Half of the oatmeal slopped over onto the tray.
“Little mouths need little spoons.” Mrs. Malone's voice came from the doorway. Dressed in beige pants and a flowered top, Irene Malone looked every bit her age. Izzy couldn't help comparing her to stylish Aunt Cate. Walking to one of the drawers, Skipper's mother made slow progress by hanging onto the counter or a chair. Yanking out a drawer, she rooted around until she came up with a blue plastic spoon. “Here you go, little girl.”
Izzy blushed. Why hadn't she thought of that? Holly's hands sprang open and the larger spoon clattered to the floor. Quickly Izzy swept it up, her eyes still on her baby girl, who gurgled with delight as she dug into the pears and oatmeal.
“Thank you. Do you want me to get your walker, Mrs. Malone?”
“No, I hate that stupid thing.” Mrs. Malone was fixated on the small TV. Izzy hoped she wasn't going to change the channel back to the news. But the olderwoman seemed mesmerized by what was on the screen. “IsSesame Streetstill on the air?”
“You bet. Big bird and cookie monster. Holly loves them.”
Izzy was relieved when Mrs. Malone sat down at the table, her eyes glued to the TV. “Well, I never. After all these years. Ainsley and Skipper learned how to count withSesame Street.”
Picking up the word “count,” Holly held up a hand “Count! One. Three.”
“She still doesn't quite have the idea,” Izzy said. The older woman’s laugh sounded rusty. It was hard to picture Skipper watching the Count and Big Bird with his sister so many years ago. Last night she'd noticed his childhood pictures in the living room. Skipper had been a tow-headed boy with a mischievous smile. In her younger years, his sister Ainsley had beautiful blonde hair, a lot like Izzy’s at that age.
Her attention went back to her little girl. With the smaller spoon, Holly had better success with her eating. Maybe Izzy had been so distracted that she hadn't concentrated on the things like the size of the spoon. She didn't know who was more interested inSesame Street, Irene Malone or Holly. But time was passing and she had to move along.
When she was at Sunnycrest her aunt always encouraged her to leave the dishes in the sink. Aunt Cate took care of everything. Once Marlowe and Samarrived, they almost fought over who would clean up the kitchen. But Izzy wasn’t at home anymore. Here she was a guest. Filling the sink with soapy water, Izzy made sure that everything was cleaned up. The Malones didn’t have a dishwasher, which was an unwelcome surprise. Izzy washed everything by hand but left the dishes in the strainer. Then she tucked the special bowl away, along with the plastic spoon. By that time Skipper’s mom had shuffled back to the living room. After fixing Holly's diaper bag, Izzy circled back to say goodbye.
“See you later!” Izzy tried to inject some cheer into her voice. Mrs. Malone was watchingSesame Streetin the living room, her knitting in her lap. Seeing her there alone with the TV hollowed out something in Izzy’s heart. Peering at them over her wire-rimmed glasses, Mrs. Malone gave a little wave with one hand. “Bye, bye, Holly!” No mention of Izzy. Should she feel hurt?
“Bye, bye,” Holly called back, flexing her hand. Sometimes Izzy’s little girl turned her inside out. After they were both tucked into her car, Izzy breathed a sigh of relief. How many more days would she be here? Every muscle in her neck ached from the tension.
When Izzy reached the bakery after dropping Holly off at daycare, Skipper was hard at work. The man had such focus and it was nice to see him settledin, doing something he loved. After high school graduation, Skipper had a tough time finding out where he belonged. In the early days of their marriage, he worked at a car repair shop, just like his dad. The money was fine but before long he hated the work. Now he worked with satisfied energy that warmed Izzy’s heart. She slipped into an apron and began washing the baking pans.
Sometimes it was hard to imagine her pastry chef as the wisecracking teenager she’d known. That boy had stolen her heart when she was only fifteen and he was two years older. Back then he had driven his dad’s old Ford convertible, music blasting all the time. No wonder her sisters and aunt had been up in arms about him at first. How would she feel when Holly reached that age? The thought nearly gave her palpitations.
Their summer romance had continued into the school year. The other girls at Naperville North High School had been so jealous. Izzy had Skipper’s picture taped inside her locker, and of course they were impressed. When the letters started arriving in their Naperville mailbox long after summer was over, her sister Sam gave her more than one stern lecture. At that time Sam was in community college and had a lot more on her mind than her rebellious youngest sister. Sometimes Izzy felt guilty about those years.
By that time her parents were gone and Izzy didn't make it easy on her older sisters or on Aunt Cate.After that first year when they’d stayed with the three children fulltime, her aunt and uncle flew in every month to check on them. Sam had her hands full back then. Now that she was older, Izzy regretted the times she’d given her big sister a hard time. Marlowe never took a side but Izzy also secretly felt that Marlowe supported her.
