She warned Gabi, “Please don’t tell Aunt Ivy about this tonight. If she finds out, we’ll help her cope with it, but since there isn’t going to be a memorial service anyway, we should wait to make sure she’s rested and in good health before we break it to her.”
“Okay, but should we tell Mark? Just in case Mr. Witherell really is his grandfather?”
Zoey hesitated. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it would matter that much to him either way and he might blab it to Aunt Ivy. So let’s not.”
Gabi rose and pulled Zoey to her feet, too. “Let’s take a walk to the lighthouse, in honor of Mr. Witherell.”
As they strolled, Gabi told Zoey that her history teacher, Mr. Hallowell, lived next door to Mr. Witherell. He said that Mr. Witherell collapsed near his yard, probably as he was returning from his morning outing. A neighbor spotted him lying on the grass, but he had already passed away. “At least he died doing something he enjoyed. But I kind of wish that someone would have been there to say goodbye to him.”
Zoey gave her a side hug. “How about if, when we get to the lighthouse, we arrange shells to say,GOODBYE, MR. WITHERELL?”
“That’s too flashy for his personality. Let’s write it in the sand with our feet instead and then the tide will wash it away.”
Without a trace, Zoey thought mournfully.Just like his past.
When they returned to the house, Zoey was flustered to see Nick’s car still parked in the driveway. She figured if she used the back staircase, she could avoid another awkward interaction with him. But before she and Gabi reached the door, Mark and Ivy pulled up, so they went over to greet them.
Ivy emerged from the car with her hair in disarray and dark circles beneath her eyes. “I was hot so Mark put the roof down on the convertible,” she explained.
Take care of Aunt Ivy first, you can deal with Mark later,Zoey told herself as she helped her inside and Gabi followed, carrying her bag. Mark stayed in the driveway, talking on his cell phone. The women stopped in the kitchen so Ivy could get a glass of water.
“Hi, Ivy,” Nick greeted her. “Please excuse the appearance of your kitchen.”
“Only if you excuse the appearance of my hair,” Ivy jested.
Zoey used to enjoy the banter between the two of them but now she wondered if Nick was just humoring her aunt. Heseemedsincere, but…
Ivy drank her water and announced, “I’ll tell you about my trip later, girls, but I’m so tired now, I need to go to bed.”
“Aren’t you hungry? I plan to make sea bass for supper and I baked chocolate ricotta muffins for dessert.”
“And they’re delicious,” Nick interjected.
Is complimenting my baking his way of apologizing?Zoey half-hoped it was. Maybe now that the sting of their earlier interaction had subsided a little, she could have a candid discussion with him about what he’d said.
“I’ll have a muffin for breakfast tomorrow,” Ivy said. “Zoey, take my arm, please. And Gabi, take my other one. I’m lightheaded from all that wind.”
“Would you like me to carry you up the stairs?” Nick asked, flexing his muscle.
Obviously, he was joking, but to Zoey’s dismay, her aunt replied, “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“It would be my pleasure.” Nick wiped his hands on his jeans and scooped her up. Gabi and Zoey followed him as he carried her upstairs.
“Right here is fine,” she said when he reached her bedroom door. He carefully set her on her feet. “You’re not just the finest craftsman on the island. You’re also a true gentleman. Thank you, Nicholas.”
With a slight bow, Nick replied, “It’s always a pleasure, Mrs. Cartwright.”
After he went downstairs and her aunt stretched out on the bed, Zoey pleaded, “Aunt Ivy, I think we should call an ambulance. Or at least we should go to the ER.”
“Why? Who’s sick?”
“I meant because if you’re too weak to walk up the stairs—”
“Who said anything about being too weak? At my age, if a strong, handsome man offers to carry me up the stairs, I’d be a fool to say no.”
It was hard to tell to what degree her joke was covering up how crummy she felt. So as Zoey helped her with her bedtime routine, she tried to persuade Ivy to allow her to call her physician and report her symptoms. When her aunt refused, Zoey pleaded to at least let her take her blood pressure and pulse, but Ivy snapped, “That cuff gets too tight. Now shush before your nagging gives me a headache. All I need is a good night’s rest.”
Gabi eventually left to do her homework but Zoey stayed by her aunt’s side until she was snoring. Seeing the state Ivy was in, she felt even more comfortable with her decision not to tell her about Mr. Witherell passing until she was better rested.
