Only a couple of months ago, Zoey had pledged she wouldn’t get involved with another guy until the fall, at least. And until a few weeks ago, she didn’t want anything to do with Nick. Yet here she was now, acting like a teenager, obsessing about whether helikedher or not. She’d even told Lauren about him. They had analyzed the minutiae of Nick’s behavior for over an hour and still hadn’t come to any conclusions. As frustrating as his behavior was, Zoey realized hers was even more pathetic and she finally resolved to put the incident—thenon-incident—on the widow’s walk out of her mind.
Instead, she concentrated so intently on helping her aunt research kitchen designs and décor online that by Thursday she felt as if her eyes were crossing. The time and energy were worth it; Ivy’s crying jags decreased in number and intensity and she’d finally decided what she wanted for cupboards, countertops and a backsplash. Nick agreed to stop in later that evening to discuss her choices and make sure the design was workable.
“I hope I’m doing the right thing,” she wavered all of a sudden.
It was almost four thirty and Zoey was sliding a chicken into the oven for supper, so her attention was on setting the timer, not on Ivy. “I really like what you selected, but if you’re not sure about it, you should ask Nick for his opinion.”
“I mean I still feel disloyal to Sylvia. It’s as if I’m trying to remove every trace of her from memory, isn’t it?” Ivy removed a tissue from her sleeve, a sure sign that she was on the brink of crying.
“Aunt Ivy, you couldn’t erase Aunt Sylvia from your mind if you tried. You were too much a part of each other’s lives. Of each other’s hearts. The countertops are superficial reminders—your memories go much deeper than that.” When Ivy blinked rapidly, fighting tears, Zoey quickly suggested, “Why don’t you choose one thing in this room that Aunt Sylvia picked out and keep it exactly as it is?”
Ivy’s eyes darted around the kitchen. Then her shoulders slumped and she wailed, “I can’t. Everything in here looks too awful.”
Zoey couldn’t disagree. Thinking quickly, she said, “Aunt Sylvia was the one who planted the rhododendron by that window. I realize it’s not technically inside the kitchen, but she loved to look at it when she did the dishes.”
“Yes, that’s true. And I did tell Nick I didn’t want to cut it down, so I suppose not every visual reminder of Sylvia will be gone, right?”
“Right,” Zoey agreed, just as there was a knock at the door. She expected it to be Aidan, who had been coming over to put down mulch and take care of the other spring yard work. But instead, it was Amy.
“Hi,” the girl chirped, stepping inside before Zoey invited her. “Gabi forgot her trig book at my house yesterday, only I didn’t know she’d left it there until she told me in class, otherwise I would have brought it to school today because she’s got a quiz tomorrow and she needs it to study,” she burbled before stopping to take a breath. “I’ll run upstairs and give it to her real quick—my mom is parked outside.”
“Gabi’s not there,” Zoey informed her and Amy came to a halt. “She’s at band practice.”
“No, she’s not,” Amy contradicted, shaking her red curls. “We don’t have after-school practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays because we practice during sixth period instead. Seventh period on Friday. We only practice after school on Mondays and Wednesdays. That’s because some of the kids in band also play sports and the band director and coaches didn’t want to force them to choose just one activity.”
She spoke so fast Zoey couldn’t quite keep up with the schedule but she understood enough to know Gabi hadn’t been where she said she’d been after school. She took the book and assured Amy she’d give it to her niece. As the teenager hopped down the back steps, Zoey leaned against the wall in stunned disbelief.There has to be a good explanation for this, she thought, unwilling to accept that her niece had deliberately deceived her.That’s just not like her. We have a better relationship than that.Or was she fooling herself? Was it possible Zoey had a big blind spot about her niece, just like Ivy—and Sylvia, when she was alive—had a blind spot about Mark?
Zoey’s brooding was interrupted when her phone vibrated in her back pocket; it was the library director. She went into the living room to take the call and her disappointment in her niece was tempered by the news that she was being invited back for a second interview the following Thursday.
“They’ve only invited three of us back, so that increases my odds of getting the position,” she told her aunt after she got off the phone.
“That’s terrific!” Ivy clapped. Almost immediately, her face fell. “But if you get the job, you’ll have to return to Rhode Island, won’t you?”
Zoey didn’t want her aunt to start dreading her departure already. “Not until the end of the summer. That’s three full months away.”
“But you’ll still be coming to Benjamin’s Manor on weekends and vice versa, right?”
Zoey was surprised her aunt was willing to visit her in Providence, since she rarely left the island. “Yes, I’ll definitely come visit you. And I’d love it if you wanted to stay with me in Providence, too.”
“Me? No, no. I was speaking about you and Nicholas.Now that you two are an item, you don’t want to lose momentum, especially because he’s so skittish—”
“We’renotan item,Aunt Ivy.”
“You’re not?” She sounded almost as disappointed as Zoey had been that nothing romantic had come of their time alone on Sunday. “But you both seemed so eager to go out on the widow’s walk the other evening. I was sure you wanted privacy to smooch.”
“No, I think Nick was just excited because it was the first time he got to see the view from up there.”
“Aha, but you didn’t deny thatyouwere eager to be alone withhim,” Ivy exclaimed.
Once again, Zoey belatedly realized that her aunt had tricked her into disclosing the information she wanted to know. Since it was useless to deny it, she said, “You’re right. Iwaskind of hoping he’d kiss me and for a moment, it seemed as if he was going to. But he didn’t. So now it’s sort of like what you said about waiting for him to deal the cards in cribbage… I’m getting restless. I don’t really feel like playing any more.”
Ivy shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that boy. Someone needs to light a fire under him.”
Aware that this conversation would be fresh in her aunt’s mind when Nick came to the house later that evening, Zoey pleaded, “Aunt Ivy, you can’t tell him—”
“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to embarrass you,” she promised. “Not today, anyway.”
After supper, Ivy went upstairs to shower before Nick arrived. Zoey was doing the dishes when Gabi came in and she wasted no time asking her niece where she’d been that afternoon.
