Lily perked up at the mention of Daniel. “What? That’s crazy. Why?”
Ivy remembered that first conversation and how Daniel had belittled her skills and her dreams. “We were worried about money,” she said, which was a half-truth. “We were never really sure how to make ends meet. He was a fisherman, and I worked odd hours at the inn. We’d just had you, and it was all crazy. I don’t know how we kept ourselves afloat.”
Like all young people, Lily was captivated by the time of her life that she didn’t remember. “How did you convince him it was the right thing?”
Ivy raised her eyebrows. “I don’t know if I ever really did. Your grandfather offered me a loan, God bless him. And I bought the flower shop without waiting for your father to say it was all right.”
“Wow.” Lily looked impressed in a way that Ivy had never imagined, not when it came to stories about her. “Dad was not really a feminist, I guess?”
“I don’t think most men were,” Ivy said. “Not back then. Probably not now, either.”
“You were insane for doing that,” Lily said. “Seriously. I’m impressed.”
Ivy smiled, but she felt her daughter’s watchful eyes still on her, as though, now that Ivy had opened the door onto the subject, Lily wanted to remain in that strange, unknown room of her mother’s secrets.
“Mom, is everything okay with the flower shop?” Lily asked.
Ivy’s voice was false and high. “Of course. Everything’s great.”
Lily gave her a look that meant I know you’re lying.
“You haven’t been there very much lately,” Lily said.
“I’ve been helping Celia out with behind-the-scenes eco-lodge things,” Ivy lied. “It’s been a whirlwind ever since your grandfather died. I haven’t felt like myself. I don’t think any of us has. It means that things like the flower shop have fallen to the wayside. But…” Here, she trailed off, thinking of Elliot Rhodes and the promises he’d made. “But I have a plan to get back to it. As early as next week.”
Lily gave her another look that suggested she didn’t believe her.
“I feel like everyone is worried about you.” Lily laced her arms over her chest and stared out the front window.
Ivy’s heart thudded. This confirmed what she’d thought—that Celia spoke about her and her sisters were obsessed with what a mess she was.
Ivy didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, not till they pulled up in front of Lily’s dorm and cut the engine. Together, they hauled Lily’s belongings up three flights of stairs and into a room she was going to share with another eighteen-year-old girl named Flora. Flora had raspberry-colored hair and buck teeth, and explained that she’d just transferred from a community college near her hometown. Ivy could tell that Lily was pleased to be paired with someone new so they could experience college together.
Ivy did her best to help her daughter move in. They unpacked boxes, hung up clothing, and set up the television that Lily had promised to bring for herself and Flora. Flora talked nonstop about her classes, her expectations, and how her high school boyfriend of four years also went here but had just broken up with her for someone else.
“I mean, can you believe that? I told him I would be here by the spring semester, and he couldn’t wait that long! He had to move on!” Rage boiled in Flora’s eyes.
Lily looked angry for her. “You’re kidding. Who’s the girl?”
“Some education major,” Flora said. “I saw her online. She’s sort of pretty but weird-looking? I’m so scared of running into them. But it’s why I dyed my hair. I want to seem different, you know? I want to seem like I have a whole new thing going.”
“You do!” Lily told her. “You’re doing your own thing, studying your own subjects, building your own life. You don’t need some loser who doesn’t know what he has.”
Flora smiled at her, then let her eyes flicker over to Ivy. Ivy spread a blanket over Lily’s bed and considered what she could tell these young women. What advice could she pass on? She’d never been through a breakup in the traditional sense. She’d only ever dated one guy, and she’d married him. The world of modern dating was a mystery to her.
“You’re about to meet so many different types of people,” Ivy finally mustered. “You’re going to meet people who show you different sides of yourself. You’re going to change so much this year. And when you look back at your high school boyfriend, you won’t recognize who you were when you were with him.”
Lily looked surprised at her mother’s advice. Her arms hung at her sides.
“Oh. That’s scary,” Flora said, her eyes wide. “I don’t know if I want to be someone else.”
“It happens no matter what, I think,” Lily said.
“You’ll still be yourself,” Ivy offered. “But you’ll be so much wiser. You’ll know yourself better than you do now.”
It sounded nice, she supposed. But Ivy wasn’t sure if she knew herself any better than she had when she was younger. If anything, she wondered if she understood herself less, if fear had gotten the best of her. She sat at the edge of Lily’s bed and suggested that the three of them go out for pizza to talk about this further.
Flora and Lily weren’t the kind of girls to say no to pizza.
