Page 29 of Second Chance in Charlevoix
“You know we don't have time to work this into our schedule. The people of Charlevoix are hearty. They’re apple tart people.”
Skipper chortled around a mouthful of macaron. After he'd swallowed, he managed to choke out, “But Charlevoix is a French name.”
“Of course it is.” Was he trying to show her up? The back room felt warmer than usual.
“What we need,” Skipper said, his tongue whisking over his teeth, “is more help not more offerings in the display case.”
So he was back to this. Her shoulders sank. After dealing with the pans, she had to agree. Fate was against her this morning. First Sunnycrest and now this. Frustration rose inside like a geyser. Lifting a fist, she smashed the pink macaron with one blow. Skipper jerked back. Then she gently swept it into one palm and choked it down, piece by piece. The darn thing was really good. Fragile but good. The strawberries could have been picked that morning.
Mumbling to himself, Skipper returned to work.
Izzy left for the front, where they had no customers. “Debbie, check on getting some colored tissue paper for our boxes. Maybe a sunny citrus. Or lavender. Yes, maybe Skipper will be making some lavender macarons.”
“Are you sure that you and your mother can handle Holly?” A last minute call from Sam had Izzy heading for Tall Oaks to help Marlowe with bingo. Skipper and Izzy had just finished doing the dishes. Izzy could pitch the bakery while she was at Tall Oaks. She slipped into her jean jacket.
“Of course we can handle her. She’s my little munchkin. Right?” Skipper had the baby in his arms. He really seemed to enjoy Holly, more than Izzy would ever have believed.
Looking at him with adoring eyes, Holly shook her head. “No munchkin!”
“Oh I think so. No problems tonight, right, my little munchkin?”
“No.” And Holly shook her head.
“Because you are my good girl.” When Skipper brought his forehead down to Holly’s, Izzy’s heart almost stopped beating. The two of them made such a picture. Her dear baby’s hand went up toSkipper’s cheek. He captured it in his own and gave it a little kiss. Holly giggled.
“I wish I didn’t have to go.” Izzy checked the owl clock and grabbed her fringed suede bag. “Josh asked Sam out at the last minute and...”
“No worries. Get out of here. I’ve got this.” Skipper seemed to understand. When she went to kiss Holly goodbye in Skipper’s arms, Izzy came to a stop. She'd forgotten how he always smelled of fresh soap and she breathed it in, along with Holly’s baby powder smell.
“You two behave now.” Somehow she got the words out. Then she was off.
Checking her rearview mirror as she drove away, she caught the two of them standing at the door, waving goodbye. All the way to Tall Oaks, she took deep breaths and tried to calm down. Today had not been her finest hour. She'd made an idiot of herself when Camille had shown up with that box of macarons.
Okay, the woman was gorgeous, and Skipper wasn’t seeing anyone right now. Izzy wasn’t being fair to him. She tried to reason with herself but no luck. Maybe she was just feeling bad after her family made that decision to move from Sunnycrest to Seth's place temporarily. Acceptance. She had to work on accepting change.
Parking next to Marlowe’s blue convertible, shedashed inside. The smell of fresh bread met her and she felt her tight shoulders unwind. The last time she'd been here, the activity director had told her that Brad wanted people to feel welcome, as if this was their home. And what said that more than the smell of something baking in the oven? One of the staff always had bread baking in the bread machine or cookies in the oven, usually chocolate chip.
Coming home.The thought sent a warm wave through her and slowed her steps. How amazing was it that she got to handle bingo with one of her sisters? A year ago, Izzy never would have thought this possible, running bingo for seniors with her sisters. But now they were active in each other’s lives because they were here together in Charlevoix. Dinners, bingo, whatever––it felt like the final puzzle pieces of their lives had snapped into place.
When Izzy pushed through the double doors of the multipurpose room, Marlowe was already up at the front table. The room was filled with excited chatter as the residents set themselves up with their cards and daubers. Marlowe looked up from the podium and waved.
Her sister had really taken to Charlevoix. Although Izzy imagined Marlowe often wore suits with her real estate clients, she liked seeing her dressing down in jeans and a casual sweater. Her chestnut colored hair waved just past her shouldersand she exuded her usual high energy as she held up bingo cards to ask if anyone needed more.
“Sorry I'm late.” Izzy slipped off her jacket and stowed her purse under the table. “Skipper and I were finishing up the dishes.”
Her sister gave her a wicked smile. “Oh, so now you and Skipper are doing dishes together? How cozy.”
But Izzy waved that away as she dumped the bingo numbers into the spinning bin. “It’s not like that at all. I’m holding my own at their house, helping out where I can. You know, they don’t have a dishwasher.”
Marlowe snorted. “Yes, think you mentioned that, like a hundred times.”
The room was full. Bingo was very popular especially on Thursday nights or so she'd been told. Izzy enjoyed coming here because the people were so nice and very appreciative. Charlevoix was lucky to have this facility.
“So what's your pleasure tonight?” Marlowe asked. “Want to be the caller or pull the numbers.”
“Pull the numbers,” she said quickly. After her crazy day she didn't trust herself with the microphone.
But they were late getting started and Marlowe began as soon as everyone was seated. Her sister was a natural at this, joking with the crowd as she called out the numbers. It was fun to see how seriously the older folks took this game. Of course they loved the prizesthat Gretchen, the activity director, produced every week. Whether it was a new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste or a pretty flowered shower cap, the residents greeted each prize with enthusiastic applause.
