Siena had to succeed.
ChapterEight
Viv
Viv woke once in the night. It wasn’t to take medication or because stark terror pushed her into the scariest parts of her mind.
It was frogs.
She had left the door open to the small Juliet balcony off her room. Maybe it was the night breeze that feathered over the uneven hairdo she’d grown back that gently nudged her awake. But the loud croak of frogs kicked in and finished the job of interrupting her sleep. The frogs were a symphony of amphibian romance.
It was warm out, especially for early in the season, and the frogs were under the impression they lived in the swamps of Louisiana. Did they not know this was Michigan?
Viv swung her feet on to the thick area rug Goldie had selected for this pretty room. It felt good, and it eased her body from drifting dreams to standing solidly on her feet.
She walked out onto the little balcony and let the sounds of late spring serenade her. The water lapped on the dock below. The hoot of an owl let her know it was close, looking for a late-night snack, maybe.
“If you’re smart, there’s a frog or two you could nosh on,” Viv instructed the unseen owl.
As if in protest, the frog croaked again.
She shifted her gaze to the water and the big dock. A splash broke the glassy surface. Was that a fish?
The moon was bright enough for her to figure out that someone was swimming. It may be warm, but the lake still had to be so cold. Who’d be nutty enough to swim in the dark?
Viv watched. It was a man. He had a good strong stroke as he swam parallel to the beach. He did three or so laps and then waded over to the sandy part of the shore.
Viv felt a little strange, spying, but then again, it wasn’t like a private beach or something. She was just standing on her balcony. The man was in shape, and that was pretty clear. She remembered what it was like to care if she was shaped a certain way. She did not anymore. Her healthy body was a thing of the past. Fretting over whether she had abs or slimmer thighs had wasted so much time in her life. It made her ashamed to think about the shallow preoccupations of her younger self.
That was another thing. She’d designed clothes for women that looked like Libby. Nobody looked like Libby.
Had she made people worry about their own bodies? She hoped not. She’d aimed to empower women, but maybe she’d done the opposite. Using the long, lean lines of the Libbys of the world didn’t help the J.J.s.
The man toweled off, and what was that? Something out of place on the beach caught her eye. A metal pole glinted in the moonlight. What?
Viv realized the man hopped over to it, and she saw now he was using a crutch. As fast as he had been swimming, his gate on land was awkward and unsteady. He was recovering from some injury.
She watched as he struggled up the incline toward the back of the hotel.
And then he looked up. She slid back into the shadow of the building. Shoot. Had he seen her? Was she now the old lady creeper?
Ugh, she hoped not.
Viv walked back into her room. She turned the light on in the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was back. It was different. All white now. But it had come back thicker. It had no shape. It was just back, a weird misshapen blob. Maybe she could have J.J. cut it, some cute, sassy cut, something like J.J. herself had?
She ran her hand through her hair. She speculated that losing all the over-processed locks was an unintended benefit of her recent health hell?
Viv was pale. She thought of her sunburned summers here. Did that click on the cancer cells in her body? Or was the cancer just a genetic gift from her mom?
Not for the first time, she thanked God that Siena was her heart’s daughter, not her body’s. She could put aside worries that she’d passed along bad genes.
Siena.
She was so excited about the boutique idea. A retail location for the Vivian Blackwood line of clothes? Viv hadn’t been able to design one new piece in months. And now Siena was trying to expand into this new direction. This just wasn’t where Viv wanted to expend what energy she had. Opening a store and trying to save the sinking ship that was Vivian Blackwood Designs was probably futile. It would certainly require a full-tilt effort from her and from Siena. Viv had to say no. She’d have to be firmer with her daughter.
Viv Blackwood was out of ideas, but more than that, she was out of time.
If the last year had taught her anything, it was that. But this trip had shown her Siena was just starting. She deserved to live a new adventure. Siena shouldn’t be so tied to Viv’s dreams, to Viv’s past.
