Chapter 5
Isla
G rocery shopping was Isla’s least favorite way to spend her Saturday morning. But if she and Mason were going to eat anything other than peanut butter sandwiches every meal the next week, shopping had to be done. Especially with Mason starting pre-K on Monday. Isla knew she couldn’t send her to school with the same thing every day.
Not that Mason would care. She was beyond excited to start school and hadn’t stopped talking about how she was going to drink chocolate milk every day for lunch. Isla was beyond thankful the pre-K program at the local elementary school was accommodating and let Mason join a few weeks into the school year. Now she just hoped it lived up to Mason’s high expectations.
They had already stopped by the school supply section of the store and picked out a backpack and a few school supplies that would hopefully be enough for pre-K. She wasn’t sure her budget could accommodate much more. At least Maggie had offered her a job a few hours a day during the morning breakfast rush. That, along with working the lunch shift at Straight to Ale, should better help her make her ends meet.
“Mommy, are you sure I can’t get this?” Mason was still clutching the lunch box that matched her new backpack to her chest. Isla hated to tell her no, especially after everything Mason has been through the last year. But it was coming down to a lunchbox or hamburger meat, and Isla knew which she had to pick.
“Not today, sweetie. I’m sorry.”
Mason sighed, looking dejected. “It’s fine.”
Isla knew it wasn’t fine, and she wished she could cheer Mason up. Maybe the idea of chocolate milk outside of school would distract Mason from her sadness.
“Hey, why don’t we see if they have those little bottles of chocolate milk?”
“To go with my spaghetti?”
“Of course!” Isla matched her enthusiasm as she carefully took the lunchbox out of Mason’s hand and put it back on the shelf. “And I promise, we’ll get you a lunchbox before kindergarten next year, okay?”
Mason nodded as she walked alongside the cart. They meandered through the store toward the diary section and Isla stopped a few feet back from someone who had the milk case door open. The glass was so fogged up with the temperature change that Isla couldn’t see who it was.
At least not until they shut the door.
Then Isla nearly had a heart attack.
“Vera,” she gasped, trying to maintain her composure. Which was easier said than done with Vera looking like she’d just stepped out of a Jane Fonda workout video in her yoga pants, a tight, long-sleeve workout shirt, and tennis shoes. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her smile could easily captivate even the coldest of souls. “Dr. Forsyth. Hello.”
“Fancy running into you here,” her eyes twinkled, and Isla flashbacked to their phone call earlier that week.
She had been so caught off guard by Vera’s phone call that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it all week. Isla still didn’t know if Vera had been flirting with her or not. It was so hard to tell over the phone. There was no way to know if she was projecting Vera flirting with her.
Not that Isla wanted her to be flirting with her. She didn’t.
Or that’s what she kept telling herself at least. No one in their right mind would want to date her. And not that Vera wanted to date her; she couldn’t assume. But Isla had enough emotional baggage for a hundred lifetimes. Vera didn’t deserve that. She deserved someone who was better than Isla.
But none of that stopped Isla from wondering what it would be like to be friends with Vera. Maybe more someday down the road. Maybe. Her life was so messed up right now and getting back on her feet with Mason in Moonflower Cove had to be her top priority. That and getting an appeal in Blake’s custody case. Dating would have to wait until the timing was better, for all of their sakes.
“I got a new backpack!” Mason turned around, showing Vera the new backpack on her back. It was a Lisa Frank backpack with two Golden Retrievers sharing an ice cream dessert. Although it was more expensive than Isla planned to spend, she knew Mason could use it for the next few years. “Do you like it?”
“I love it!” Vera gushed over the backpack. “It looks so good on you.”
“I know.”
“Mason,” Isla scolded through a smile. “What are you supposed to say?”
“Oops.” Mason looked up at Isla apologetically before looking back at Vera with a smile on her face. “Thank you.”
Isla could see Vera holding back a laugh.
“You’re welcome, sweetie.”
“There’s a lunchbox too but Mommy said we can’t get it right now. But we’re going to get chocolate milk instead.”
Isla wanted to avoid Vera’s gaze, but it was impossible. Her eyes were sympathetic, which made Isla feel worse. The last thing she wanted was for people to feel sorry for her over her finances. Or really anything. She wasn’t one who readily accepted help; it wasn’t part of her personality.
Thankfully, Mason changed the subject for her.
“We’re having spaghetti tonight.”
“Oh, that sounds yummy!”
“Do you like spaghetti?”
“I do.”
Isla could see exactly where the conversation was going and didn’t know how to get her daughter to stop talking quickly.
But it didn’t matter. Mason asked Vera, “Do you want to come over for spaghetti tonight?”
“Oh.” Vera was clearly caught off guard, but she seemed to be trying to hide that from Mason. Isla could appreciate and understand that. She looked up at Isla, seemingly expecting her to answer for her. “Well, I’m—”
“Honey, I’m sure Dr. Forsyth has plans tonight,” Isla cut her off before she could finish her sentence.
“Vera.”
Isla narrowed her eyes at her.
“Call me Vera.”
That damn smile . How can one human be so pretty? Isla didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe it was the scrubs Vera was wearing before. Or perhaps it was because she looked so natural and comfortable in the grocery store. Either way, Isla had to pull her thoughts away from Vera and back to Mason.
“But, Mom,” she whined, “she likes spaghetti.”
“I do,” Vera interjected with a smirk on her face.
Great. She’s enjoying this.
Vera looked at Isla, waiting for a response. There was no way Isla could decipher if Vera was giving her a please get me out of this look or an I’m entirely amused and want to eat spaghetti with you look. Nor did she know which she wanted it to be. Granted, even if Vera did come over, it wasn’t as if it would be on a date. No relationships started by a loud mouth kid asking a perfect stranger over to dinner.
“You don’t have to come,” Isla finally said.
“Oh, okay.” As her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, Isla finally realized what look was on Vera’s face. Disappointment. “Maybe another time?”
Isla wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement but it didn’t matter. Mason didn’t give her time to process it before whining, “But, Mommy, you said we both have to make friends here, remember?”
Busted. By a four-year-old, nonetheless.
Pushing aside whatever concerns she may have about having Vera over to dinner, Isla put on her best smile and looked at Mason.
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
Mason nodded enthusiastically.
I’m trapped. How bad can one dinner be? God, my house is a mess. She’s a doctor. She probably expects fine China and actual dining room tables. Not eating spaghetti on thrift store dinnerware at a card table.
“We would love to have you over for dinner, if you want to come.”
There. Now the ball is in her court.
Vera wasted no time smiling and saying, “I’d love that.”
“Us too,” Isla tried to mask her uncertainty with enthusiasm.
For the last few years, all her friends had been the parents of kids Blake and Mason’s ages. They were all friendly and cordial because they had to be; otherwise trips to the playground were just awkward. But now, Isla was setting out on a new path all her own. She had to make friends like an adult, whatever that meant. Isla honestly had no idea.
But maybe a spaghetti dinner insisted on by a four-year-old was exactly how friendships started. Who was Isla to question it?
“Here,” she dug in her purse for a small notebook and pen, “let me give you our address.” Isla scribbled the address down on a piece of paper, ripped it out, and gave it to Vera. “Does six o’clock work for you?”
“Six is great.” With a wink, Vera tucked the paper into her bag. “I’ll see you then.”
And with that, Vera turned and headed down an aisle, leaving Isla speechless. It wasn’t often Isla found herself at a lack of words. She was one of the most talkative people around. But there was something about Vera Forsyth that was almost spellbinding.
Maybe I don’t get out enough. Or don’t know how to flirt. Is it supposed to feel this awkward? God, what if she wasn’t flirting and was just being nice?
Isla knew Mason had a way of getting what she wanted. Those green eyes could get her just about anything she asked for. Well, except for a Lisa Frank lunchbox.
“Okay, Mace.” Opening the glass door of the dairy section, Isla took out a small bottle of milk and handed it to Mason. Then she took another one out and held it up. “I’m going to get two of these and you can have one tomorrow with dinner if you promise that when we get home, you will help me clean the house before Miss Vera comes over.”
Mason firmly nodded; her eyes locked on the second bottle of milk. “I’m a good helper, Mommy.”
“I know you are, baby. Now, let’s finish shopping and go home, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
“And Mason?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s not invite any more people to dinner tonight, okay?” Isla laughed, letting Mason know she was teasing. Mason giggled, wrapping her arms around Isla’s legs.
“Okay, Mommy.”