“I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate. I think you’re tired and you’ve had a lot of things on your mind. But after you get more rest and after you’ve recovered from the pacemaker procedure, if you’re still concerned, we’ll talk to your regular physician,” Zoey suggested, but her reassurance did little to improve Ivy’s mood.
Mark’s presence in Hope Haven certainly didn’t help, either. Fortunately, he didn’t stay at the house overnight: this time he used the excuse that the pollen from the trees and grass was bothering him. He’d never mentioned having allergies before, but Ivy fell for it. Zoey suspected her aunt was paying for his room at The Harborview, but she kept her comments to herself.It’s not my money, so it’s not my business.The last thing she wanted to do was create any more tension between herself and her cousin, primarily because it would have upset Ivy.
Mark had already troubled their aunt by telling her that Zoey had made him feel unwelcome on Friday afternoon. He didn’t explain in detail, because then he also would have had to admit he’d chosen to leave rather than to dial down his anger, but he said enough for Ivy to know there was conflict between them. She was so anxious about it that Zoey overheard her telling the portrait of Denny, “The kids aren’t getting along and I don’t know what to do about it, Captain.”
So Zoey went out of her way to be congenial to her cousin. It was no small challenge, especially after he ridiculed Ivy’s kitchen design, calling it a cross between a checkerboard and an elementary school bathroom. After that, Ivy seemed to lose interest in the remodel and declined Zoey’s offer to browse through samples of cupboard and drawer pulls online. Nor did she want to help Gabi bake another strawberry-rhubarb pie. Although she rallied long enough to prepare brunch for Mark on Saturday morning, she was so exhausted afterward that she took a three-hour nap. On Sunday, Mark actually invitedheroutto brunch, a gesture Zoey intuitively mistrusted. But she didn’t rock the boat by suggesting it might have been better if their aunt relaxed at home while Mark made her breakfast there.
That evening, as Ivy was half-reclining in bed, twisting her hair around a roller, Zoey reported that Nick had left a message for her saying he planned to remove the tiles from the backsplash on Tuesday. “Isn’t that exciting?” she asked, hoping to spark her aunt’s enthusiasm about the remodel again.
“Yes, it’s fine,” Ivy flatly replied. She had been complaining all afternoon that she was too hot. At first Zoey was worried she had a fever but when she took her temperature, it was normal, so she’d opened the windows wide, including those in her aunt’s room. The surf was rough and she could hear it slapping the shore across the street.
“Aunt Ivy, is anything wrong?”
She set her brush on the nightstand without putting the rest of her hair up. “I’m just tired. Please stop fussing and turn out the light. I’m getting up bright and early tomorrow.”
Zoey was going to ask if that was because she intended to invite Mr. Witherell in for some of the pie Gabi had made on her own—her second attempt was nearly perfect—but Ivy had already closed her eyes and rolled over. So Zoey went to bed early, too. She didn’t feel very tired but she was eager for the day to end. Even if it was irrational, she felt as if they were racing against the clock and if they could just make it to the following Monday, when her aunt’s surgery was scheduled, everything would be okay.
Meanwhile, she took comfort in knowing Mark was catching the 10:22 a.m. ferry back to the mainland tomorrow. She never did figure out what it was he truly came to Dune Island to discuss with Ivy, but Zoey assumed it had less to do with her health than withhisneeding money. It usually did. But that wasn’t her business and as long as he departed on schedule, she no longer cared why he’d arrived.
She must have been more tired than she realized because she didn’t wake until her phone rang at 9:30 the next morning. It was the library director calling to offer her the role. Even though the salary was more than she’d been making in her former position, Zoey asked time to consider it. The director sounded disappointed, but she agreed Zoey could have a week to make her decision.
Eager to share news that might cheer her aunt, Zoey whisked down the hall. Ivy’s door was slightly ajar and Zoey was pleased to see she was dressed and her hair was combed—the day was already shaping up to be a good one.
“Congratulations, dear. I’m not surprised they’d snatch you up,” her aunt said when Zoey told her about the offer. “When did you tell me they want you to start working?”
“It would be sometime in August, but I haven’t accepted the position yet. I told them I needed to think it over.”
“Why would you hesitate? You remember what I said about not putting off—”
“Yes, I remember, Aunt Ivy,” she interrupted. “But it’s common professional practice to take time to consider an offer. It’s not as if they’ll rescind it just because I didn’t jump at the chance to work for them.”
Ivy’s eyes welled and Zoey immediately regretted her sharp tone. She’d only meant to prevent her aunt from worrying she’d lose the offer. As she turned to get Ivy a tissue from the nightstand, she noticed a small, open suitcase on the bed. “Are you packing?”
“Yes. For my trip to Boston.”
Zoey was flummoxed. She appreciated that her aunt had been expanding her horizons lately, but an excursion to the city? She must have been pulling Zoey’s leg. Either that, or she was planning ahead, giving herself something to look forward to after her surgery. “Boston?”
“South of Boston. Plymouth? Plympton? I forgot. That’s why Mark said he’d tell you—because I can’t remember all the details. Didn’t he discuss it with you?”
“No.”The only legitimate reason Zoey could imagine for him taking Ivy on an off-island trip was that he wanted to get a second medical opinion about whether she needed a pacemaker. Still, Zoey wished he had given her a heads-up, too, so she could have gone with them. “Why does he want you to go off-island with him?”
Her aunt zipped her rollers into a cosmetic bag and sat down on the bed. “So I can spend the night at an assisted living facility. Just to see what it’s like.”
Don’t react. Don’t react. Stress is bad for Aunt Ivy’s heart.Zoey repeated the mantra to herself before asking, “Is now really a good time for that? You’ve already got an outing this week—your pre-op screening. Couldn’t you wait until after you’ve had your surgery to go to Boston?”
“I suppose.” Ivy’s palm was pressed against her cheek, signaling her ambivalence. Obviously, Mark had strong-armed her into this trip. “But it might be two months before I feel well enough to travel.”
“Two months isn’t very long.”
“No, but by then the unit that’s opening up in September might be rented out.”
September?Zoey was losing her battle to keep calm. “You’d move in September?”
“IfI move, yes, September would be an opportune time for everyone. But I certainly haven’t decided anything yet.”
“I don’t understand. We just started the remodel. And you love this house, Aunt Ivy. Almost all of your memories are here.”
“Yes, but you’ve said it yourself—my memories run deeper than superficial reminders. Besides, this place is getting too hard for me to keep up. I’m too weak. Too forgetful.”
