Page 22 of Second Chance in Charlevoix
Chapter 11
Isabel
Locking up Coffee and Cupcakes later that afternoon, Izzy wondered what she would find back at Skipper’s house. Why wasn’t his mom using her walker? Was she trying to appear independent? For heaven's sake, Irene Malone was getting older. But Izzy didn't want to say anything to Skipper about it. His mother was a sensitive issue with him, and Izzy was not going to cause a problem. When he came home from Europe following his dad's death, Skipper had assumed a protective attitude with his mom. Izzy liked to think that working at Coffee and Cupcakes had come at a good time for him. It had given him a job and allowed him to stay in town.
Getting into her car to head for the daycare center, Izzy felt so worn out. She was feeling her way through a lot of this. Taking both her car and Skipper’s pickuptruck to the bakery every morning might be silly. After all, they were going to the same place. But Izzy had insisted on it and maybe she’d been wrong. She didn't want anyone to get ideas about why she was living at his house. “We're living at Skipper's house for a while for Holly's sake,” she’d told Debbie. “All those fumes and the dust are bad for her.”
“Whatever you say.” The girl had a funny look in her eyes.
When Izzy picked up Holly at daycare, Mrs. Goodman told her that one of the children had a cold. “I isolated her of course but germs move through the air. Her mother has found care for the poor thing until she’s better.”
“I suppose that's a common problem when you get a group of children together.” This was exactly what Izzy had dreaded with daycare. So many children, so many viruses. But what could a working mother do? Mrs. Goodman tried to keep students as safe as possible. Izzy could see that and respected her for it.
“Yes, no way around it, I’m afraid.” The older woman pushed back her gray curls that were usually frizzy by the end of the day. She looked like she’d had a tough day. “I do what I can to provide a safe environment. Together with Heather and Christy, we do what we can.” Her two assistants were busy spraying Lysol on every surface and wiping them clean.
With Holly safely strapped into her pumpkin seatin back, Izzy took off. Should she stop at the pharmacy to pick up pediatric cold medicine, just in case? Her mind raced. She was almost halfway home before she realized that she was headed to Sunnycrest, not the Malone house farther out. After a mental head slap, she pulled into the nearest driveway, backed out and headed towards Skipper’s. Although she missed the sound of the lake, she loved the woodsy feel out at Skipper’s place. Those homes had lots of land and plenty of opportunities for gardens. Izzy would be glad when Seth and his men fixed a patch for Sam in the back at Sunnycrest.
When Izzy reached the house, she pulled up behind Skipper's pickup. His mother's car was in the garage, next to his dad’s old Ford. Izzy was glad that they lived out in the country. She didn't want anyone in town to get any ideas about their two vehicles parked together in Skipper’s driveway. Unstrapping the baby from her pumpkin seat, she carried her to the back door. “You are such a good girl,” she said, nuzzling Holly soft neck.
Holly dipped her head and giggled. “Good girl.” Izzy figured every child needed to hear that. As she pushed through the unlocked side door, the smell of a roast greeted her.
How wonderful. No sharp solvents in the air. No smell of sawdust and definitely no hammers pounding. Sure the house itself was dated, butso was Sunnycrest. She’d made a good decision, and Izzy felt good about it.
But the memories that came back surprised her. When Izzy and Skipper were a couple, they’d often come here for Sunday dinner. Skipper’s sister Ainsley would be on the phone, but his mom and dad would be fussing here in the kitchen. And the house had smelled just like this. A roast would be cooking in the crockpot and potatoes would be baking in the oven. But for now, she had to push those thoughts away and concentrate on getting Holly ready for dinner.
Mrs. Malone sat at the kitchen table, cutting up green beans while Skipper set the table. Skipper was helping with the meal? The last part of the picture was new. When they were married, Skipper did not work in the kitchen and he made no bones about it. Maybe he’d changed since his Paris training. She really should consider bringing in an assistant for him. That thought kept nagging her. She’d have to run some numbers, and that was not her strong point.
“Here. Let me help.” Turning, he took Holly from her while Izzy shrugged out of her jacket. “Were you a good girl today?” Skipper asked Holly, as if he did this every day.
Suddenly serious, Holly nodded and patted her chest. “Good girl.”
Skipper smiled. “You sure are. A very good girl.”
Her green beans forgotten, Mrs. Malone lookedcaught up in the sight of her son cuddling a baby. So far, Irene had no grandchildren and Izzy’s heart twisted. Sometimes she wondered if they’d missed an opportunity that might have saved their marriage. If they’d had a baby back then, would they have worked things out? But this wasn’t the time for regrets.
Hanging her purse on a hook, Izzy rubbed her hands together. “How can I help?”
“I'll do the cooking if you do the cleanup,” Mrs. Malone said as if she'd already given this some thought.
“And I'll help.” Skipper must have seen the look on Izzy’s face.
“Sounds good.” Cleaning up without a dishwasher. That still amazed her. Skipper had fixed their old dishwasher at Sunnycrest, but all the time he didn't have his own?
“I haven't been able to convince her,” Skipper muttered as if he'd read Izzy's mind.
“No sense having a dishwasher for only two people.” Finished with the beans, Mrs. Malone struggled to get up. But when Skipper reached over to help her, his mother shook her head. She’d always had her pride and Izzy could see that hadn’t changed. The walker was shoved against the wall. “While we’re fixing dinner, why don’t you turn onSesame Street?”
Had Skipper’s mom really said that? Izzy checked the owl clock on the wall. “Is it time?”
Standing there in the doorway, Skipper flushed. “My mother asked me to recordSesame Street. You know, for Holly.”
The pan of beans in her hands, Mrs. Malone walked carefully from the table to the stove. “You’ll want the little one to learn her numbers.”
Izzy and Skipper exchanged a look. She was touched by his mother’s consideration. Within minutes Skipper had the TV on and Holly was in the pink runabout. When the cookie monster came on, she was enthralled. While Holly watched TV, Izzy heated the baby’s food. She'd brought the family bowl from Sunnycrest and popped it in the microwave. Thank goodness the Malone kitchen was equipped with one of those or she didn't know what she'd do.
But dinner that night felt strained. Oh, everything tasted wonderful, and Skipper sure ate a lot. Obviously he loved his mom’s cooking. To her embarrassment, Izzy couldn't get Holly to stop pounding her spoon on the highchair that Skipper had brought over in the pickup.
“Feisty little one.” Instead of looking annoyed, Irene Malone wore a half smile, as if she were at the zoo studying a new type of animal.
