“I cut the flowers and put them in the vase, but I think Mrs. Brown messed with them after I left. They look better.”
“Looks like you chose the prettiest blooms. Could I see the garden after dinner?”
“I would love to show you her garden. And you should take these with you when you go,” he offers.
“I’d love to.” I surprise myself with my agreement to take them. I’m honestly not very good at accepting things. Alex had to work pretty hard for me to let him buy me not one, but two beautiful, and I’m certain very expensive, dresses. I suppose, after that, the flowers are nothing. Though they’re equally beautiful.
Mrs. Brown comes in with our salads. “Hello, Ivy. Lovely to see you again.” She sets our bowls in front of us, along with what appears to be a flight of dressing options.
“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Brown. This looks amazing. You’ve made a beautiful salad.”
“Thank you, dear. It would be an awful shame to have to eat an ugly salad,” Mrs. Brown says before stepping back toward the kitchen.
“It would be an awful shame to have to eat an ugly salad. I can see that being on one of those decorative quote signs on a kitchen wall.”
“What’s a decorative quote sign? I mean … I guess it’s exactly what it says it is. I’ve never seen one.”
“You’ve never been in a house with a decorative quote sign?”
“No.”
I look around the room. “Well, you did grow up here, and I imagine you have a fancy man-house in California.”
That makes him laugh. “Yes, you could probably characterize my house back there as a fancy man-house. So can you give me some examples of what one of those signs might say?”
“Hmm … well, Val has one in her kitchen that says, ‘In This Kitchen, We Dance.’”
“Dothey dance?”
“It’s not something I’ve witnessed, but I get a feeling Val tones down her wild child when I’m around.” I take a bite of my salad and chew while smiling.
“Huh. Why would she do that?”
I blow out a little breath. “I practically raised her. I’m not that much older than her, but maturity-wise, there were always years between us. I think she wants to prove she’s a responsible adult now.”
“Do responsible adults not dance in the kitchen?” he asks between bites.
“I like to dance and sing in the kitchen.”
“You’re a singer?”
“I enjoy singing, but only to myself.”
“You’ll sing for me one day, won’t you?” The hope in hiseyes simultaneously brings me joy and reminds me of reality.
“I’m not sure we’ll get tosingingin our numbered days, pretend boyfriend.” I say this to remind myself, but also to remind Alex, because the looks he’s been giving me since he saw me at the hotel tell me this isn’t as pretend for him as it is for me. Or at least as pretend as I need it to be.
23
Alexander
Wemakeittothe garden right as twilight settles across the sky. It looks like the dream of every romance movie set designer.
Work your magic, golden hour.
“This is incredible.” Ivy pauses where she stands on the pebble path that winds around the garden. “Your mom did all this?”
“She did. It was her passion. It’s honestly the reason I don’t think I could ever sell this house.” I take her hand, and she allows it.
