Page 8 of Second Chance in Charlevoix
Chapter 4
Isabel
When Izzy reached Sunnycrest that evening, she bumped into Seth Barrett on the front steps. The family had chosen Seth, an accomplished architect, to guide the renovation. A handsome older man, Seth looked like he'd had a hard day. With Holly in her arms, she leaned against the metal railing to catch her breath. “How are things going? Usually you’re gone by now.”
Seth was holding some kind of white box with a glass panel. Face flushed, he nearly dropped it. “Something’s wrong with the closet fixtures. Nothing major, but I had to attend to it.”
The box in his hands looked familiar. Marlowe had ordered glass enclosures for her shoes, saying that it kept the dust off. Sam and Izzy had both beenimpressed and immediately added them to their own list of closet accessories.
Shifting Holly to her other arm, she gave her little girl a soft bounce. Holly was working on her purple pacifier and Izzy had to feed her soon. “I'm sure everything will turn out all fine.”
“You bet,” Seth said with his usual determination.
“You bet,” Holly repeated, popping out the pacifier and looking pleased with herself. She was great at picking up short phrases. The pacifier bounced to the steps.
Bending, Seth scooped it up. Handling it like it might bite, he gave it to Izzy. Of course Holly reached for it but Izzy captured her little hand. “Dirty,” Izzy said with a shake of her head.
“Mine!” her little girl wailed.
“Yes, and after I wash it off, you can have it back.” Head down, she kept trudging up the steps. “Bye, Seth.”
“Have a good evening.” Whistling, Seth continued down to his pickup truck, parked along the street.
“Bye, bye,” Holly said over Izzy's shoulder. The baby lifted a hand to flap her fingers. When she wasn't being headstrong and ornery, Izzy’s baby girl could be so darn cute.
Izzy still wasn't used to seeing Aunt Cate’s new Mercedes SUV parked in front of Sunnycrest. Since Sam had arrived yesterday, her SUV was also there.After a serious joint discussion, they'd agreed to let Marlowe use the garage for her fancy BMW convertible. She'd had the darn thing painted a custom turquoise in Germany and was paranoid about scratches. The gorgeous car was totally impractical in Charlevoix with its heavy snows. But no one had the heart to tell her that. Down below Seth started his pickup with a roar.
Good thing the front door was never locked. Turning the knob, Izzy shoved the door open. This hallway with its black and white tile floor and antique hall tree looked more like a museum every day. The renovation was long overdue. For Izzy, Sunnycrest had been more than a summer home since her marriage to Skipper. Sunnycrest was home.
Skipper. How was he doing with his mother right now? Kicking off her shoes, she said a silent prayer and stepped on something. And boy, it hurt. Good thing she was wearing socks. “Ouch.”
Leaning over, Holly studied the floor. “Ouchy? No, no, no.”
Setting Holly down, Izzy picked up the retractable measuring device that had probably fallen from Seth’s pocket. He’d had so much in his arms when he left for the day. Leaving it on the hall table, Izzy shrugged out of her jacket. This was exactly why Skipper had to come through for her. “Arms up,” she said to her darling girl.
“Upsy, daisy!” Holly held her arms up. Izzy tugged off her pink corduroy jacket and hung it up.
“Time for dinner.” Picking Holly up, she nuzzled her soft neck.
But her baby wasn't having it. “No. No,” she said, pushing away. Yep, she needed food.
“Are my girls home?” Aunt Cate sang out, dancing into the hallway, with Sam right behind her.
Her older sister opened her arms, raced toward her and picked up the baby. “Boy, this feels good. I’ll love doing this every day.” Sam tightened her grip. Easy for her sister to say. She’d never had children, so this was new to her. Still, Izzy was glad for the support. Then Holly started her strange little cough.
“Does she have a cold?” Sam asked.
“I don’t think so. It’s the stuff in the air.”
Sam lifted a hand to her own throat. “I was wondering if I was coming down with something.”
Izzy followed Sam into the kitchen, and her sister slid Holly into the highchair.
“Bad day?” Aunt Cate’s brows lifted. “You look tired, sweetheart.”
“Not bad. Not really.”
She couldn’t admit why the day had been stressful. Not when it had started with Skipper’s new pear and almond tarts. Darn it, she’d forgotten the samples she’d boxed up for Sunnycrest. Izzy had been so preoccupied, worrying about Skipper’s talk with his mother.
