Page 22 of Blame It on the Bikini
"All right. What did you get her that is so heavy?"
"It's a dollhouse. It was actually mine when I was a little girl. I had my mother ship it here so I could give it to Olivia." She led him across the courtyard. "It's quite large. My mother tended to be very extravagant with presents." She opened her unlocked door and led him into her apartment.
Lexie lived next door to her aunt on the first floor of the building, but her one-bedroom apartment was half the size of Josie's. It was also much less cluttered, with furniture in soothing tones of white, blue, and gray. But while she didn't have a lot of things, she did have a lot of photographs. There were three large, framed pictures above the couch and dozens of smaller photos covering the dining room wall.
"Did you take all these?"
"The ones over the sofa," she said as she slit open an enormous carton with a pair of scissors.
"And the ones in the dining room?" he asked, wandering over to take a closer look.
"Places I want to go. When I do, I'll replace each picture with one of my own. When the wall is completely redone, I'll feel…I don't know, like I've accomplished something."
He glanced back at her, seeing the mix of emotions in her gaze. "When are you going to start?"
"Soon. I'm saving up right now." She paused. "Could you help me pull out the dollhouse?"
He walked over as she opened the carton and, together, they extracted a large two-story dollhouse and then several ziplock bags filled with tiny furniture and people. He was impressed by the detail of not only the architecture but also the interior rooms, which had designs and even small paintings on the walls.
"This is quite a dollhouse."
"I told you. I got it on my seventh birthday, so it seems fitting I give it to Olivia."
"Are you sure you don't want to save it, maybe for one of your own kids?"
She hesitated. "I don't think so. It's beautiful, and I had fun with it, but it doesn't hold a ton of sentimental value. And to be honest, it wasn't even on my wish list that year. I wanted a robot. But my friend Melissa got a dollhouse for her birthday, which was two weeks earlier. Melissa's mother was friends with my mother, and they were always trying to outdo each other, so my mom came up with this. She won."
He smiled. "Well, at least you benefited from her competitive drive."
"I did. There were chocolate fountains at my eighth birthday tea party, pony rides for my tenth birthday, and a professional ice sculpture of me at my sweet sixteen. I was horribly embarrassed about that one. But my mother was proud as could be. If people weren't talking about one of her parties for a week, she considered it a failure."
"Was your father fully invested in your mother's party planning?"
"Not even a little bit. He was always at work. He let her do what she wanted because it kept her busy and stopped her from complaining that he was working all the time. He did get angry a few times when she really blew the budget. But she just ignored him. Impressing her friends was something she needed to do."
"Did she come from money?"
"No. Her parents, my grandparents, were teachers, so she never had parties like the ones I had, and she told me how lucky I was every time I said I wanted something simpler." Lexie shrugged. "My mother is a complicated person. I'm making her sound competitive and mercenary, but she was also generous to others. We always brought great gifts to other kids, and to be fair, I think her belief in celebrating the fun moments in life was good. Maybe she didn't have to be so extravagant, but I always felt special, and I have her to thank for that. I want Olivia to feel special, too. And I wouldn't buy this for her because that would be too much and probably make Bree feel bad. But since it's used, I feel like it will be okay." She gave him a concerned look. "You do think it will be okay, don't you?"
He nodded. "I do. Because it was yours, it will also make it more special."
"What about you? Was your mother a big party planner, too?"
"Not for me. She planned dinner parties for their friends and my father's business associates. She was groomed to be the perfect corporate wife, following in her mother's footsteps. But my birthday did not interest her. In fact, she believed that she should be getting the presents on my birthday because she went through twenty hours of labor to deliver me. Although every time she told the story, the length of time seemed to increase. I think we're up to three days of labor now," he said dryly.
"She does have a point," she said lightly.
He shook his head. "You're not taking her side."
"I just said she had a point. So, how did you celebrate your birthdays?"
"My father took my mother and me out for a very expensive dinner. She got to order whatever expensive bottle of wine or champagne she wanted, while I usually got a candle in whatever complimentary birthday dessert they served. There was never a party."
Lexie’s mouth curved in both sympathy and disbelief. "That's kind of awful, Grayson."
"It wasn't that bad. And I didn't know any differently."
"But you must have gone to other kids' parties."
