Page 13 of Second Chance in Charlevoix (Charlevoix Dreams #3)

Isabel

L ocking up Coffee and Cupcakes later that afternoon, Izzy wondered what she would find back at Skipper’s house.

Why wasn’t his mom using her walker? Was she trying to appear independent?

For heaven's sake, Irene Malone was getting older.

But Izzy didn't want to say anything to Skipper about it.

His mother was a sensitive issue with him, and Izzy was not going to cause a problem.

When he came home from Europe following his dad's death, Skipper had assumed a protective attitude with his mom.

Izzy liked to think that working at Coffee and Cupcakes had come at a good time for him.

It had given him a job and allowed him to stay in town.

Getting into her car to head for the daycare center, Izzy felt so worn out.

She was feeling her way through a lot of this.

Taking both her car and Skipper’s pickup truck to the bakery every morning might be silly.

After all, they were going to the same place.

But Izzy had insisted on it and maybe she’d been wrong.

She didn't want anyone to get ideas about why she was living at his house.

“We're living at Skipper's house for a while for Holly's sake,” she’d told Debbie.

“All those fumes and the dust are bad for her.”

“Whatever you say.” The girl had a funny look in her eyes.

When Izzy picked up Holly at daycare, Mrs. Goodman told her that one of the children had a cold. “I isolated her of course but germs move through the air. Her mother has found care for the poor thing until she’s better.”

“I suppose that's a common problem when you get a group of children together.” This was exactly what Izzy had dreaded with daycare.

So many children, so many viruses. But what could a working mother do?

Mrs. Goodman tried to keep students as safe as possible.

Izzy could see that and respected her for it.

“Yes, no way around it, I’m afraid.” The older woman pushed back her gray curls that were usually frizzy by the end of the day.

She looked like she’d had a tough day. “I do what I can to provide a safe environment. Together with Heather and Christy, we do what we can.” Her two assistants were busy spraying Lysol on every surface and wiping them clean.

With Holly safely strapped into her pumpkin seat in back, Izzy took off.

Should she stop at the pharmacy to pick up pediatric cold medicine, just in case?

Her mind raced. She was almost halfway home before she realized that she was headed to Sunnycrest, not the Malone house farther out.

After a mental head slap, she pulled into the nearest driveway, backed out and headed towards Skipper’s.

Although she missed the sound of the lake, she loved the woodsy feel out at Skipper’s place.

Those homes had lots of land and plenty of opportunities for gardens.

Izzy would be glad when Seth and his men fixed a patch for Sam in the back at Sunnycrest.

When Izzy reached the house, she pulled up behind Skipper's pickup.

His mother's car was in the garage, next to his dad’s old Ford.

Izzy was glad that they lived out in the country.

She didn't want anyone in town to get any ideas about their two vehicles parked together in Skipper’s driveway.

Unstrapping the baby from her pumpkin seat, she carried her to the back door.

“You are such a good girl,” she said, nuzzling Holly soft neck.

Holly dipped her head and giggled. “Good girl.” Izzy figured every child needed to hear that. As she pushed through the unlocked side door, the smell of a roast greeted her.

How wonderful. No sharp solvents in the air. No smell of sawdust and definitely no hammers pounding. Sure the house itself was dated, but so was Sunnycrest. She’d made a good decision, and Izzy felt good about it.

But the memories that came back surprised her.

When Izzy and Skipper were a couple, they’d often come here for Sunday dinner.

Skipper’s sister Ainsley would be on the phone, but his mom and dad would be fussing here in the kitchen.

And the house had smelled just like this.

A roast would be cooking in the crockpot and potatoes would be baking in the oven.

But for now, she had to push those thoughts away and concentrate on getting Holly ready for dinner.

Mrs. Malone sat at the kitchen table, cutting up green beans while Skipper set the table.

Skipper was helping with the meal? The last part of the picture was new.

When they were married, Skipper did not work in the kitchen and he made no bones about it.

Maybe he’d changed since his Paris training.

She really should consider bringing in an assistant for him.

That thought kept nagging her. She’d have to run some numbers, and that was not her strong point.

“Here. Let me help.” Turning, he took Holly from her while Izzy shrugged out of her jacket. “Were you a good girl today?” Skipper asked Holly, as if he did this every day.

Suddenly serious, Holly nodded and patted her chest. “Good girl.”

Skipper smiled. “You sure are. A very good girl.”

Her green beans forgotten, Mrs. Malone looked caught up in the sight of her son cuddling a baby.

So far, Irene had no grandchildren and Izzy’s heart twisted.

Sometimes she wondered if they’d missed an opportunity that might have saved their marriage.

If they’d had a baby back then, would they have worked things out? But this wasn’t the time for regrets.

Hanging her purse on a hook, Izzy rubbed her hands together. “How can I help?”

“I'll do the cooking if you do the cleanup,” Mrs. Malone said as if she'd already given this some thought.

“And I'll help.” Skipper must have seen the look on Izzy’s face.

“Sounds good.” Cleaning up without a dishwasher. That still amazed her. Skipper had fixed their old dishwasher at Sunnycrest, but all the time he didn't have his own?

“I haven't been able to convince her,” Skipper muttered as if he'd read Izzy's mind.

“No sense having a dishwasher for only two people.” Finished with the beans, Mrs. Malone struggled to get up.

But when Skipper reached over to help her, his mother shook her head.

She’d always had her pride and Izzy could see that hadn’t changed.

The walker was shoved against the wall. “While we’re fixing dinner, why don’t you turn on Sesame Street ? ”

Had Skipper’s mom really said that? Izzy checked the owl clock on the wall. “Is it time? ”

Standing there in the doorway, Skipper flushed. “My mother asked me to record Sesame Street . You know, for Holly.”

The pan of beans in her hands, Mrs. Malone walked carefully from the table to the stove. “You’ll want the little one to learn her numbers.”

Izzy and Skipper exchanged a look. She was touched by his mother’s consideration.

Within minutes Skipper had the TV on and Holly was in the pink runabout.

When the cookie monster came on, she was enthralled.

While Holly watched TV, Izzy heated the baby’s food.

She'd brought the family bowl from Sunnycrest and popped it in the microwave.

Thank goodness the Malone kitchen was equipped with one of those or she didn't know what she'd do.

But dinner that night felt strained. Oh, everything tasted wonderful, and Skipper sure ate a lot. Obviously he loved his mom’s cooking. To her embarrassment, Izzy couldn't get Holly to stop pounding her spoon on the highchair that Skipper had brought over in the pickup.

“Feisty little one.” Instead of looking annoyed, Irene Malone wore a half smile, as if she were at the zoo studying a new type of animal.

One thing Izzy remembered about her former mother-in-law's dinners was that they were hearty. Meat and potatoes, gravy and more vegetables than you could ever eat. Izzy couldn't remember ever seeing a salad on this table. A guy who'd always been muscled and lean, Skipper had never had a weight problem. But Izzy didn't know if she could continue eating meals like this every night. Of course she didn’t say anything. Her sisters would be proud of her. “It’s not what you say,” Sam had always told her. “It’s what you stop yourself from saying. Always be kind.” Skipper’s mom was proud of her cooking and Izzy thanked her more than once during dinner.

After the meal Mrs. Malone went into the living room to watch the news.

But Izzy didn't want her baby girl seeing those images at night, so she kept the runabout in the kitchen.

Skipper turned on the local classic rock radio station.

There weren't that many dishes and Izzy got to work.

While she was filling the sink with sudsy water, Skipper grabbed a towel.

Although he hated the job of cleaning the baking pans at the bakery, he didn't complain that night as they washed and dried together.

When Billy Joel came on the radio singing “Uptown Girl,” Skipper threw his towel onto the table and picked Holly up.

Singing along with the music, he danced around the kitchen.

Skipper had always been a good dancer and Holly giggled, trying to move her little body.

When he set her down to dance with him, Holly swung her arms, bobbed and giggled, although she still wasn’t very sturdy on her feet.

Before long the dishes were put away, but Izzy kept that picture of the two of them deep in her heart.

“So are we all set with the apple tarts tomorrow morning?” she asked, drying her hands.

“You bet. First thing on my list.” His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “So what's up?”

“Oh nothing. I just thought I might mention it to Sam. She loves her apple tarts.”

“That’s sweet of you, Izzy, thinking of your sister.” Skipper didn't suspect a thing.

Later that night after Izzy had put the baby down in the Pack and Play, she went out into the hall and called Sam.

“How are things going over there?” her sister asked.

“Pretty good. I washed the dishes tonight.”

Was her sister laughing? “You washed dishes? Now that's the picture for your Christmas card next year.”

Why had she even mentioned it? “Thanks a lot. Skipper is helping me.”

“I’ll just bet he is. How is Holly doing? We miss her.”

“This was just the first day but I think she's fine.” She wasn't going to mention that Skipper was helping her more than she'd expected. Izzy didn't know how she felt about that. His mother had made more than one comment about this being “just like family.” She didn’t want Skipper’s mom getting any crazy ideas. “Has your furniture arrived?”

“Not yet. Next week, they think. Anyway that doesn't matter. We're having a meeting over here tomorrow evening. And it involves Seth Barrett. Can you bring the baby over? We miss her. He said the meeting would be short.”

What was this about? “Is there a delay we didn’t plan on? Something not in stock?” Izzy didn’t have time to be involved in details.

“Trust me, from the look on Aunt Cate’s face this is important.”

“Okay, I'll be there after I finish the dishes. Thought I'd give you a heads up. Skipper is making apple tarts tomorrow,” she told her sister. “You might want to stop in early. They sell out fast.”

“Couldn't you put a couple aside and bring them when you come?” Her sister sounded tired and out of sorts.

“You know how good they are when they're warm. Anyway, I always forget.” She never had brought the pear tarts to Sunnycrest. Instead she’d eaten them.

In the silence that followed she could imagine Sam weighing the pluses and minuses. This was how her oldest sister made all her decisions. “Okay. But if I don't get there tomorrow…”

“If you don’t mind cold pastries, then yes, I'll bring one over.” She’d narrowed it down to one tart, knowing her sister would want more.

They said goodbye and the call ended. By the time she came out into the living room, Skipper was taking his mother upstairs to bed.

Mrs. Malone seemed pleased by the way her son scooped her up and carried her up those stairs.

She shot a self-satisfied glance at Izzy.

But maybe she was just imagining things.