Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Present Day
It was Celia’s idea to arrange the calendar so that the entire week before Christmas Day, the Bluebell Cove Eco-Lodge was empty of guests, the rooms set aside only for them.
“We deserve a Harper family celebration,” Celia explained, clasping her hands, standing in the kitchen of the house where they’d all been raised.
“I think we should enjoy the lodge for what it is.
Let's decorate the Christmas tree and watch old movies on the big TV in the main room and cook a big feast.”
Lily stood at the counter with a mug of coffee, her eyes alight. “I love it,” she said. “Can we watch While You Were Sleeping? Can we decorate Christmas cookies?”
“Of course we can, honey,” Celia said. “Sophie already requested The Holiday and a big serving of lemon bars. Oh, and Ivy? Could you put together a few floral bouquets for the eco-lodge? Something Christmassy. I was looking at some of the photos you have on your website, all these complicated arrangements you’ve sold over the years for holidays and weddings and things. I never knew how talented you are.”
Ivy swallowed the lump in her throat and considered telling Celia that she hadn’t opened the flower shop in more than a month, that to keep costs low, she’d stopped buying flowers, stopped opening her bills, and stopped dealing with her problems at all.
During the Thanksgiving season, she’d heard from a few of her regulars, asking if she would make bouquets for their Thanksgiving tables, but she hadn’t answered any of them back.
She knew that one day soon, everything would probably explode in her face. She’d have to sell the flower shop. She’d have to officially give up. But right now, she was pretending that wasn’t so.
“I could do that,” Ivy said. “If I don’t have too many orders to tend to.”
Celia smiled. “Don’t worry if it’s too much.”
The morning of the first day of their planned Harper Christmas Weeklong Celebration, Ivy returned to the flower shop to receive a small shipment of flowers from her traditional supplier.
Despite dropping off the face of the planet for the past month or so, she’d miraculously received a few orders for Christmas wreaths and flower arrangements, and she’d decided to spend the day making and delivering them.
If she still had flowers left over for Celia’s arrangements, she’d put together a bouquet or two.
Maybe she could find the Christmas spirit within her.
As Ivy worked, she was overcome with memories of the eighteen-plus years she’d spent in this flower shop.
She listened to Christmas songs she’d always loved, cut the stems of flowers, and tied ribbons.
She imagined herself putting a FOR SALE sign out front next spring and conning some beautiful twentysomething into buying it.
“Go after your dreams,” she imagined telling that other woman.
“Don’t you want to show your children what you’re capable of? ”
Ivy’s heart felt black, especially when she considered the first few years of owning the flower shop and what solace she’d always found here. Where was that solace now?
Oh, but she still adored putting together bouquets. She still adored the artistry, the delicate beauty of every individual flower, of how no two bouquets could be the same.
Why can’t I go on doing this forever? she wondered. Regardless of how much money it brings in?
When Ivy finished for the day, and after she’d made her required deliveries to her faithful clients, she piled the bouquets for the eco-lodge into the back of her car and drove back home.
She entered the eco-lodge with the bouquets and arrangements piled into a large cardboard box, only to find Celia, Wren, and Juliet behind the front desk, sipping wine and watching the snowfall through the window.
“She’s outdone herself!” Celia cried. It took Ivy a moment to realize Celia was talking about her. She smiled, suddenly grateful that she’d been asked to contribute. She still felt distant from her sisters, but maybe this Christmas celebration would change things.
Wren handed her a mug of hot chocolate and said, “Let the decorating begin!”
Over the next few hours, Ivy, Celia, Wren, Juliet, Sophie, and Lily decorated the eco-lodge for their Harper Family Christmas.
They secured Christmas trees, hung lights, strung holly and tinsel, and played Christmas music from the speakers that piped out from all corners of the living room and kitchen.
“You remember that year the Christmas tree fell on Dad?” Wren asked, taking a break on the sofa in the living room and wiping tree sap on her jeans. Boxes of decorations were strewn all over the floor.
“I remember!” Celia laughed.
“He was howling loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear,” Ivy chimed in, surprising herself. She could still picture her father, fighting with the sticky Christmas tree, uninjured but so angry that he could hardly speak. “It took ages to get that thing off his hands.”
“He used to always love Christmas Vacation before that,” Wren said. “After that, he couldn’t stand to watch that movie.”
Ivy had forgotten that there was a nearly identical scene in the movie. She laughed, warmth flowing through her body. Sophie and Lily hurried in from the back room to see what was so funny. But because Sophie had never known her grandfather, she found it difficult to picture him.
“I’ll have to tell you some stories about Grandpa,” Lily said knowingly. She and Tyler were the experts on their grandfather, the only Harper grandchildren who’d been around to know him.
When Sophie and Lily disappeared to decorate the sunroom, Celia sidled up to Ivy and said, “Our girls are sweet together. I think they’re more alike than they know.”
“You think?” Ivy hadn’t spent much time with Sophie and wasn’t yet sure about Sophie’s personality. She’d gotten the impression that Sophie didn’t like her. Maybe it was in her head.
“They’re both obsessed with the same kinds of things. They can recite more environmental laws than I can at this point,” Celia said. “I think they’re going to change the world one day. It’s incredible to see.”
Ivy rubbed her chest, suddenly discomfited. Ivy wondered whether Celia had spoken to Lily more about going to college. Ivy had half assumed that Tyler’s near arrest had forced Lily to reckon with how much she was needed at home. How much Ivy needed her.
“Maybe so,” Ivy said. “Your daughter’s certainly doing impressive things.”
“Yours is, too,” Celia said. “Seeing her at work is something else. I used to hate working the front desk at the inn. But Lily’s a social butterfly, more than we ever were. Wherever she ends up, she’ll make waves.” She gave Ivy a knowing look.
But then, Juliet called for Celia’s help upstairs, and Celia skedaddled off, leaving Ivy in the front room. Wren took a breath, as though she wanted to say something.
But it was then that the front door screamed open, bringing in Tyler, his cheeks sunken but his eyes searching.
When he asked if they were planning to bake any cookies soon, Lily hurried from the back room and set to work, pulling flour, sugar, and eggs out onto the counter.
Ivy joined her kids in the kitchen, arms crossed as they laughed about an inside joke she would never understand.
She tried to get Celia’s words out of her head.
“Are you going to help, Mom?” Lily teased. “Or are you just going to stand there?”
“Hey!” Ivy pushed herself to laugh and stepped up to the counter, where she cracked eggs and sliced butter.
She wondered what Daniel would have done if he were here, how he would have connected with them.
There was a chance that this would have been his “golden age” of parenting—his time of laughter and silliness, after the really hard work was through.
For a little while, as they stirred, mixed, rolled, and baked, Ivy felt as though she belonged to a beautiful family again. She forgot about the flower shop. She forgot about all her failures.
But as Lily slid another tray of cookies into the oven, Celia appeared in the kitchen and bent her head to ask, “Ivy? Sorry, we got cut off earlier. I had a few more things to say. Can I talk to you for a second?”
Ivy’s arms and legs were frigid with fear. When she looked up at Lily, Lily’s eyes remained downcast Ivy had a terrible feeling all of this had been prearranged.
But Ivy wiped off her hands and followed Celia to the back of the eco-lodge, where the sunroom stretched directly beside the back porch. Through the window, they could see the jagged cliffs where, just last summer, the Smith family had planned the grand opening of their luxury hotel.
Celia cupped her hands against her stomach and gave Ivy a look that meant trouble.
“What’s going on?” Ivy asked, her voice harder than she’d planned for.
“I don’t know how to say this,” Celia said.
Ivy’s mind went a thousand different directions at once. She thought of all the possible ways life could crush you. She thought of cancer. She thought of Celia, moving away before their relationship could really find a way forward.
She panicked until Celia continued.
“Lily’s asked me to tell you that she’s going to college this next semester,” Celia said.
“I know it’s strange to hear it from me.
But she’s afraid of hurting you.” Celia’s eyes were the size of saucers.
“She wants this week together to go well. She wants you to know that it’s one of your last, you know, before she goes.
But she’s still a girl. She can’t handle disappointing you. ”