“Sure.”
Minutes later, we pull in front of a white farmhouse with a wraparound porch, surrounded by huge trees. Micah isrunning a few minutes behind us, so we hop out and walk around outside, eager to stretch our legs. We walk through a gate into the backyard, where we find a pool surrounded by beautiful, almost tropical-looking plants. It reminds me of my mum’s plants around our pool in London.
“Hey, Alexander!” Micah calls as he steps into the backyard.
“Micah! Good to see you.” I walk toward him and shake his hand, then make introductions.
“It’s hot out. Let’s get inside,” Micah suggests.
“Lead the way.”
Ivy’s restaurant opens tomorrow, and it’s torture being in her town without seeing her, but I really want to surprise her at the opening.
I want to tour the town, but instead, the Parkers and I have visited everywhere within a half-hour drive. I need a distraction today, though. My patience has worn thin.
“Remember that sign we saw for tubing in Saluda? We could go do that,” I suggest, sitting down in a chair in the Parkers’ room in our bed and breakfast.
“We didn’t bring swimsuits. And I’m not sure tubing is for us. We aren’t athletes.”
I eye the couple who have spent their adult lives on theirfeet moving around within their restaurant. They may not be athletes, but they’re plenty spry.
“I’m pretty sure tubing is for anyone who can get in a tube and swim if needed. It’s not rapids, just a gentle float.”
We stop at my first ever Walmart and buy swimwear. I smile, remembering Ivy teasing me and my five-pack of underwear in that store near Dover. She’d have something to say about my palm-frond-covered swimming trunks.
I wear sunglasses and a hat. To my knowledge I’m not recognized once as I float down the Green River in a tube tied to Mrs. Parker. Mr. Parker is on her other side. There are plenty of people on the water, but it doesn’t feel crowded. I’m filled with peace as I lie on my back and watch the sky and trees pass by.
Tomorrow will be good. Tomorrow will change my life. I’m going to hold my future in my arms.
“Alex,” Mrs. Parker says.
“Hmm?”
“I think you should call us something other than Mr. and Mrs. Parker.”
I turn my head toward them both and I speak words, not really knowing they’re coming out of my mouth. “You could go ahead and choose grandparent names; you’ll need them eventually.”
I can tell Granny Parker wants to tackle me in a hug butdoesn’t want to take a dive into the water, so I reach over and squeeze her hand.
“I’ve got some good ideas,” she says, and her husband grins.
44
Ivy
I’mdoingafinalrestaurant walkthrough with the contractor, and everything looks like a dream. It’s so much more than I could have ever imagined.
“Tom. This is …” I shake my head, not knowing how to reply. “Thank you.”
He waved me off. “We did quality work, but I think it was the decorator that made it look so great. I’m going to have to try to work with her again.” Tom said that last part mostly to himself.
“What decorator?” I ask, then watch as the color drains from Tom’s typically rosy cheeks.
He doesn’t answer.
“You never mentioned a decorator. And I know I didn’tpayfor a decorator. What’s going on, Tom?”
“I wasn’t supposed to say.”
