Page 5 of Second Chance in Charlevoix (Charlevoix Dreams #3)

Isabel

W hen Izzy reached Sunnycrest that evening, she bumped into Seth Barrett on the front steps.

The family had chosen Seth, an accomplished architect, to guide the renovation.

A handsome older man, Seth looked like he'd had a hard day. With Holly in her arms, she leaned against the metal railing to catch her breath. “How are things going? Usually you’re gone by now.”

Seth was holding some kind of white box with a glass panel. Face flushed, he nearly dropped it. “Something’s wrong with the closet fixtures. Nothing major, but I had to attend to it.”

The box in his hands looked familiar. Marlowe had ordered glass enclosures for her shoes, saying that it kept the dust off. Sam and Izzy had both been impressed and immediately added them to their own list of closet accessories.

Shifting Holly to her other arm, she gave her little girl a soft bounce. Holly was working on her purple pacifier and Izzy had to feed her soon. “I'm sure everything will turn out all fine.”

“You bet,” Seth said with his usual determination.

“You bet,” Holly repeated, popping out the pacifier and looking pleased with herself. She was great at picking up short phrases. The pacifier bounced to the steps.

Bending, Seth scooped it up. Handling it like it might bite, he gave it to Izzy. Of course Holly reached for it but Izzy captured her little hand. “Dirty,” Izzy said with a shake of her head.

“Mine!” her little girl wailed.

“Yes, and after I wash it off, you can have it back.” Head down, she kept trudging up the steps. “Bye, Seth.”

“Have a good evening.” Whistling, Seth continued down to his pickup truck, parked along the street.

“Bye, bye,” Holly said over Izzy's shoulder. The baby lifted a hand to flap her fingers. When she wasn't being headstrong and ornery, Izzy’s baby girl could be so darn cute.

Izzy still wasn't used to seeing Aunt Cate’s new Mercedes SUV parked in front of Sunnycrest. Since Sam had arrived yesterday, her SUV was also there.

After a serious joint discussion, they'd agreed to let Marlowe use the garage for her fancy BMW convertible.

She'd had the darn thing painted a custom turquoise in Germany and was paranoid about scratches.

The gorgeous car was totally impractical in Charlevoix with its heavy snows.

But no one had the heart to tell her that.

Down below Seth started his pickup with a roar.

Good thing the front door was never locked.

Turning the knob, Izzy shoved the door open.

This hallway with its black and white tile floor and antique hall tree looked more like a museum every day.

The renovation was long overdue. For Izzy, Sunnycrest had been more than a summer home since her marriage to Skipper. Sunnycrest was home.

Skipper. How was he doing with his mother right now? Kicking off her shoes, she said a silent prayer and stepped on something. And boy, it hurt. Good thing she was wearing socks. “Ouch.”

Leaning over, Holly studied the floor. “Ouchy? No, no, no.”

Setting Holly down, Izzy picked up the retractable measuring device that had probably fallen from Seth’s pocket.

He’d had so much in his arms when he left for the day.

Leaving it on the hall table, Izzy shrugged out of her jacket.

This was exactly why Skipper had to come through for her.

“Arms up,” she said to her darling girl .

“Upsy, daisy!” Holly held her arms up. Izzy tugged off her pink corduroy jacket and hung it up.

“Time for dinner.” Picking Holly up, she nuzzled her soft neck.

But her baby wasn't having it. “No. No,” she said, pushing away. Yep, she needed food.

“Are my girls home?” Aunt Cate sang out, dancing into the hallway, with Sam right behind her.

Her older sister opened her arms, raced toward her and picked up the baby.

“Boy, this feels good. I’ll love doing this every day.

” Sam tightened her grip. Easy for her sister to say.

She’d never had children, so this was new to her.

Still, Izzy was glad for the support. Then Holly started her strange little cough.

“Does she have a cold?” Sam asked.

“I don’t think so. It’s the stuff in the air.”

Sam lifted a hand to her own throat. “I was wondering if I was coming down with something.”

Izzy followed Sam into the kitchen, and her sister slid Holly into the highchair.

“Bad day?” Aunt Cate’s brows lifted. “You look tired, sweetheart.”

“Not bad. Not really.”

She couldn’t admit why the day had been stressful. Not when it had started with Skipper’s new pear and almond tarts. Darn it, she’d forgotten the samples she’d boxed up for Sunnycrest. Izzy had been so preoccupied, worrying about Skipper’s talk with his mother .

Going into the pantry she pulled down a box of Cheerios and a packet of chicken and rice cereal. She quickly sprinkled some of the dry cereal onto Holly’s tray. But Holly swept them onto the floor. “No. Lucky Arms.”

That was how the baby pronounced Lucky Charms. Although Izzy was trying to wean her daughter off sugary cereals, this wasn’t the time.

She left to get the other box. Of course Holly preferred the colorful pieces with tiny marshmallows.

Izzy had felt the same at that age. Down below the highchair, their dog Piper was slurping up the Cheerios with his long tongue.

“My, Holly sure has her own opinions, “Sam said. “We used to eat everything.”

Izzy let the comment ride. She probably should get used to hearing unwanted advice.

Skipper’s mother had never been one to hold her tongue, so she might be hearing plenty of it in the days to come.

Opening the jar of baby food, Izzy scooped some into a bowl and popped it into the microwave. She set the timer and hit some buttons.

“When are you moving into Skipper’s place?” Sam asked.

Avoiding her eyes, Izzy made a fuss about cleaning up the floor with a damp paper towel. Maybe Sam couldn’t see that there was nothing to clean up. Piper was a canine vacuum. “Still working on a moving date. Say, Josh stopped in today.” Time to take her sister in another direction.

Looking up, she noticed that Sam had turned pale. Was that comment mean? Izzy hadn’t meant it that way. She just didn’t want to be pinned down about her upcoming move until she heard from Skipper. And she hoped it would be good news.

“What did Josh want?” Sam brushed back her shoulder-length caramel hair as if Josh McCall could see her.

“The same thing everybody else wants.” Izzy bounced up with a laugh.

“Coffee and a pastry.” She tossed the paper towel into the trash and opened the microwave.

After sampling the food to make sure it wasn't too hot, she positioned herself in the chair next to Holly.

Fastening a bib around her daughter's neck was never easy, especially when Holly was reaching for the food. Holding her baby’s fingers with one hand, Izzy started shoveling in food with the other.

“Skipper baked a new delicacy today. Pear and Almond Delight.”

“That sounds heavenly.” Aunt Cate opened a bottle of Louis Jadot chardonnay, and Sam took down the wine glasses.

But Izzy shook her head. If she didn’t watch what she was doing, she’d have baby food and wine all over. “I’ll bring you some samples of the new tart tomorrow.” Okay, the pastries might be a little dry after sitting in the box overnight. No need to mention that.

“You mean Josh just got coffee and that was that?” Clearly Sam's mind was still on Josh and not the pastries.

“Something’s cooking down here. What do I smell?” Dressed in jeans and an untucked white T-shirt, Marlowe slouched in the doorway. The faint smell of the baby food lingered.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Setting down her wine glass, Aunt Cate strolled over to the refrigerator and opened the freezer. “What do we have here? Turkey with mashed potatoes, spaghetti with or without meatballs, or turkey tetrazzini.” The bright red boxes of frozen dinners were in her hands.

Blinking as if she'd just gotten up from a nap, Marlowe collapsed into one of the empty chairs. The night before she’d mentioned that she had a big day in front of her, driving up to Petoskey and beyond. “Are we ordering out?”

“No, we're microwaving in,” Aunt Cate said with a smile.

Moaning, Marlowe propped her head up in her two palms. “Okay, spaghetti with meatballs for me.”

“Me too,” Sam said.

“Are all the spaghetti with meatballs gone?” Why did her older sisters always get their choices? Holly had finally wrenched her hands from Izzy’s. Dipping a tiny fist into what was left of her food, Holly lifted it and began to suck her fingers.

“You can have the kind without meatballs.” Aunt Cate whisked a red box from the freezer. “This isn't the end of the world.”

“I'll trade with you, Izzy,” Sam said quickly. “No problem. You take the meatballs and I get more sauce.”

Izzy settled back. This was childish and she knew it. Wasn’t she trying to change her old habits? “That’s okay, Sam. I’m good with only the sauce. No problem.”

“So did you get your furniture stored away?” Marlowe asked Sam before giving in to a yawn. “Everything good?”

“No.” Sam's face looked puffed up, like she'd been crying. Why hadn't Izzy noticed that earlier?

“So what's the deal?” Marlowe asked while her aunt opened a package and popped the first frozen dinner into the microwave.

Digging a tissue from the pocket of her navy slacks, Sam blew her nose. “It appears that my worldly belongings are on their way to Ripon, Wisconsin.”

“What?” Marlowe's mouth fell open, and she made googly eyes at Holly.

Pointing to her aunt, Holly giggled. She loved it when Aunt Marlowe made funny faces.

“Exactly my reaction.” Sam apparently had decided to make the best of it. “The furniture that arrived here was clearly not mine and was sent back to Chicago. I'm never using that company again.”

“I hope you won't need to. I mean, we're staying here, right?” Marlowe sent Sam a teasing glance and reached for the bottle of wine.

Aunt Cate handed her a wine glass. “Although if you moved into the home of a handsome and very available orthopedic surgeon, you might not be living here at Sunnycrest.”

“Stop. Just stop.” Clearly Sam wasn’t in the mood for joking. The smell of spaghetti rose from the microwave.

“Okay, not going to ask any more questions.” Jumping up, Marlowe rustled around in the silverware drawer and began to set the table. “No need to have all your stuff here right now, right? Once you have a storage shed, you’ll just end up going to visit it every other day. Like me.”

“They said it might take a week.” Poor Sam.

She was always so organized. Izzy could remember their lunches set out on the kitchen table every morning.

After their folks were gone and Aunt Cate had returned to New York, Sam had taken care of everything, including their lunches.

And she always managed to include a cheerful note, like “You are the sunshine of my life.” Her sister had come through for them like a champ.

The older Izzy got, the more she realized what an effort that must have been.

“Why don’t you give Josh a call?” Izzy said softly.

The look she got from Sam made her regret the question.

But why? Why were these two fighting something that was so obvious?

She wanted Sam to be happy. And Josh made her happy.

Okay, so Sam hadn’t gotten along with the widower’s kids the first time she went to their house for dinner.

That might take some time, but sweet Josh was worth the trouble.

Sam’s ex-husband had been terrible to her during their divorce. She deserved to be happy.

“The two of us have agreed, Izzy. For now, we’re taking a break. And that’s that.” Her big sister turned away. How many times had Sam used that parental attitude with her when Izzy was in grade school? And that’s that . Sam would try to lay down the law.

But it was time Sam learned that Izzy wasn’t a child. Maybe she needed an intervention. The wheels began turning in Izzy’s mind. “I think I’ll have a glass of that wine now.”