Chapter 9
Isabel
“I-scream!” howled Holly. Such drama. Izzy’s little girl could be demanding.
Her sisters would think she had no control of this drama queen.
Right now Holly’s entire body was vibrating like a wind-up toy.
She locked eyes with Aunt Marlowe, lifted her hands dramatically over her head, and shrieked again, “I-SCREEEEAM!”
Marlowe clapped both palms over her ears. “Oh boy. My eardrums.”
Sam cracked one eye open from the hammock. “Did she say I scream?” she asked lazily. The evening breeze sifted through the porch, sending the falling leaves scuttling across the yard. For once, they were all there together—Sam, Marlowe, Izzy, Aunt Cate and Holly, who was really wound up.
“The older kids at daycare taught her that.” Izzy set the small red and blue toddler table upright. Holly had toppled it twice already. “It’s ice cream, sweetheart. I scream for ice cream. We do not scream.”
Holly’s lip trembled theatrically. She stuck out her chin. “I-scream,” she muttered, gripping a red plastic spoon like a gladiator preparing for battle.
Aunt Cate swept through the doorway holding a bright red bowl. “Did someone ask for ice cream?” Their aunt sparkled, from her butterfly-covered blouse to the clear wedge heels filled with floating little pink butterflies that bounced with each step,
How different Aunt Cate was from Skipper’s mother, who dressed like she was on a guided tour to the early bird buffet. But Irene always looked nice.
“I-Scream!” Eyes on the bowl, Holly pounded her spoon on the child size table Marlowe had bought.
“Oh boy,” Izzy muttered. “Please, please tell me this was a good idea.” She plucked the bowl from Aunt Cate’s hands before more chaos erupted. “Holly, say please.”
Holly inhaled through her budding front teeth. “Peas, Mama!” she burst out, face red with the effort of behaving.
Izzy set the bowl down. “What’s with the colored stuff on top.”
“I added some colored sugar,” Aunt Cate said. “She loves colors.”
Oh, dear. The sugar would be all over, but too late.
With a wild shriek. Holly plunged her spoon into the colorful mass. Izzy braced herself. Aunt Cate dashed to the kitchen and fluttered in again with a bib.
Izzy groaned. “You’ll never get that on her.”
But Holly sat perfectly still for Aunt Cate. She adored Izzy’s aunt, possibly more than she adored Izzy. But Izzy didn’t really believe that.
“Now then,” Aunt Cate said as she settled down beside Izzy on the loveseat. “Tell me how things are with the Malone clan.”
“Busy,” Izzy sighed. “The mixer broke at Coffee and Cupcakes. We ran out of apple tarts, snickerdoodles and patience.” Okay, she’d come here with a bigger problem. Did she have the nerve to bring it up?
Across the porch, Sam swayed gently in the hammock, eyes half-closed, fingers drumming restlessly on her stomach. Something was definitely off.
“What’s up, Sam?” Izzy asked. She wasn’t ready to talk about her own problem.
“Nothing,” her sister said too quickly.
“How was the soccer game last weekend?” Izzy pressed for answers. “Josh and his family, right?”
Sam grimaced. “Yes. And his mother.”
Marlowe chimed in from her rocker, “Daughter too, right?”
“Right. Mia. Awful.” Sam didn’t even try to hide her misery. “Josh got paged to the hospital, so I sat between Mia, who was glued to her phone, and Marie McCall. Josh’s mother lectured me about proper sideline etiquette. Apparently my clapping rhythm was ‘distracting.’”
Izzy winced. “Ouch.”
“It gets better,” Sam added. “She also told me I should learn the rules of soccer if I planned ‘to be around.’”
Marlowe choked. “She said that?”
“She did.” Sam looked miserable. Izzy felt so bad for her.
Aunt Cate pressed a hand to her chest. “I don’t like that woman.”
“Well,” Marlowe said, stretching her legs like a satisfied cat, “at least I had a decent weekend.”
Sam shot her a narrow-eyed look. “We haven’t heard about it yet. Are you going to share?”
Izzy smiled. The sibling competition was warming up again.
“So tell us, Marlowe,” Aunt Cate said, one crossed leg bobbing impatiently. “Tell us about your date.”
“It wasn’t a date,” Marlowe protested.
“Sure,” Sam murmured. “And the pope isn’t Catholic.”
Marlowe ignored her. “Bella Vita was lovely.”
The blush on her cheeks said more than lovely. Izzy leaned forward. “So how was Brad? And you know, you and Brad together?”
Sam perked up. “Yes, tell us about the chemistry, please.”
Before Marlowe could answer, a scraping noise came from the toddler table.
“Holly?” Izzy spun. Holly was holding the empty bowl upside down, tongue out to catch the last drops of ice cream. Her face was smeared in sticky streaks of blue and red. Holly froze when she saw her mother looking, then grinned like a raccoon stealing corncobs from the fall door wreath.
Running inside, Izzy returned with a washcloth and cleaned her off. “Never mind me, talk,” she ordered her sisters. She lifted Holly away from the table. The toddler got busy playing with her Raggedy Ann.
The porch fell strangely quiet.
“Marlowe,” Aunt Cate said, in a very stern voice as if she were addressing the bench at one of her trials. “We’re waiting, sweetheart.”
Marlowe sighed, surrendering. “Fine. It was… nice. Really nice. Brad’s kind of old-fashioned. He opens doors and pulls out chairs.” A smile teased the corners of her sister’s lips.
Sam raised a brow. “Wow. Revolutionary.”
“I’m just saying I liked it! It reminded me of Dad. You know, the way he always was with Mom.”
“He did have a sweet way with your mother,” Aunt Cate said softly, as if she were remembering.
“Did you talk about your difference in ages?” Izzy asked. Why had Marlowe ever mentioned that conversation to Izzy?
“What? No!” Marlowe jerked upright. “Not really.”
Sam laughed. “You almost fell out of the rocker. That’s suspicious.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Unable to hold her news in any longer, Izzy took a breath before blurting, “Skipper wants a baby.”
Everyone froze.
“What?” Sam was first. “Already? You just got married!”
Aunt Cate sighed dreamily. “A baby…”
Holly perked up, dropped Raggedy Ann and pointed at the doll. “Ba-bee wants a cookie!”
Izzy said, “No cookie, sweetheart. You just had ice cream.”
Holly frowned, then set the doll on the wicker chair, patted its yarn hair gently and whispered, “Baby wants a cookie,” before looking around to see if anyone noticed. They all had.
Aunt Cate squealed with delight. “A full sentence! Finally. Don’t you girls say another word until I get back.” Didn’t take long before Aunt Cate returned with a gingerbread man in hand. She gave it to Holly. Couldn’t Izzy ever have a conversation without her little girl interrupting?
She pulled Holly onto her lap. “Another baby would be wonderful,” she said softly. “But it would mean a surrogate.” She said that mostly for Aunt Cate’s benefit. She knew how much it would take.
“That process is expensive, from what I’ve read,” Sam murmured.
“Complicated, finding the right woman,” Marlowe added. And then her expression cleared. Her eyes circled the porch. “Unless we find one right here.”
Izzy nearly dropped Holly. “Absolutely not.”
Sam cleared her throat. “I could do it.”
“You?” Izzy yelped. “Sam, you’re forty-two.”
“Forty-one and a half,” Sam snapped. “And I’m very fit.”
Marlowe’s head whipped around. “Oh please. I’m younger.”
“By two years,” Sam countered. “Hardly a spring chicken.”
Marlowe stood, hands on hips. “I have better stamina.”
Sam crossed her arms. “You nap every day when you get home.”
“That’s called self-care!” Were her two siblings duking it out? Izzy sure hadn’t expected this.
She gaped at the two of them. “Are you two actually competing to be my surrogate?”
Aunt Cate clasped her hands. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“No!” Izzy practically shouted. “It’s insane!”
But something fluttered in her chest. Maybe hope was beating back all her fears. Her sisters were being so sweet. She wanted to hug them both.
Marlowe gave a dramatic wave. “Izzy, I’d do it. Anything for you. If you want this, that is.”
“Me too.” Sam added a little louder.
Izzy swallowed hard. Aunt Cate seemed to be holding her breath. She looked from Sam to Marlowe to Holly, who was now quietly breaking off bits of gingerbread for Raggedy Ann, but then eating it herself. Izzy felt her heart expand to the size of Lake Michigan.
Could this work?
Would one of her sisters take on the task of carrying her baby? Their baby. Skipper would be so excited.
The whole thing was terrifying. Thrilling.
This felt just like standing on the high dive all those years ago at Naperville’s Centennial Beach, waiting to take the deep water diving test.
And once again, she wasn’t sure this was really happening.