Chapter 2
Ivy
“Anizey!” The name I’ve been called by my niece and nephew since my niece began to talk and blended the words aunt and Ivy makes me smile.
“Mama said if you don’t come down for breakfast, she’s gonna feed your portion to Minerva and then come lay on top of you until you can’t stand it anymore.
” My niece Juniper’s voice comes through the door as it does every morning, with various threats that my sister never makes good on.
I joined them on my first morning here, and feeling like an intruder in their morning routines, I decided to leave them be at breakfast since. I assume the dog’s been eating well in the mornings since I moved in.
Maybe moved in isn’t correct. I’m only here temporarily.
Until recently, I lived above the restaurant I own.
I grew Bowl from a small food truck to a prime location on Main Street.
We may live in a small town, but people need to eat, and they seem to love to eat my food.
Everything on the menu comes in a bowl. We specialize in breakfast bowls, but later in the day we also offer soups, hearty salads and other bowl-able non-breakfast fare.
Oh, and ice cream with a toppings menu containing almost anything anyone has ever dreamed of putting on their dessert and then some.
But it burned down. I mean not literally; the bricks are fine.
The building still stands, but everything else is gone.
The manager I hired and trusted—much like I imagine a parent handing over their child to a babysitter—left one afternoon without double-checking everything, and that evening I received a phone call that my life as I knew it was over. At least for the time being.
Thank God I was gone for the weekend, visiting my college roommate in Virginia. At least I’m still alive, even if my business is temporarily gone.
I turn onto my side, pulling the covers up to my neck, just as I like them. I have a minute of quiet before a banging on my door signals my niece's return.
“Mama says you’re thirty years old. You need to put on your big girl pants and come downstairs. You can’t rot in that room.”
I jump up and fling the door open, startling Juniper. “Why can’t your mother come and threaten me herself?” I ask, feigning anger.
“She’s busy cooking.”
“Nah. I think she’s just too scared,” I joke, and my niece just stares up at me. “Fine. I’m gonna go to the bathroom. I’ll be right down.”
Juniper eyes me suspiciously. “Will you? Because I don’t want to have to come back up here.”
“Yes, sassy pants, I will. I’d hate for your poor nine-year-old legs to have to drag you back up here.”
“Thank you,” Juniper says with a satisfied smile before heading to the stairs.
I trudge into the bathroom, already knowing what I’ll see. My paper-white skin will be dull and lifeless—apart from the extra freckles the sun has drawn on my skin—and my golden-brown curls will resemble a tumbleweed. At least I assume tumbleweeds are brown. I’ve never seen one in real life.
I don’t turn on the light because I know if I did, I would want to try to fix things. The night-light will have to do. I don’t have five minutes, much less the surely necessary half-hour, before my sister sends Juniper back up here.
I quickly use the bathroom and brush my teeth before heading downstairs.
“Well, look who it is, and before eleven a.m.,” Val, my now morning-person younger sister, says as she drops butter into a pot on the stove.
I remember the days when I had to wake her and get her ready for school.
Back then, her night-owl self made everything difficult in the mornings. People can change.
“I’ve been consistently sleeping in for the first time in the last decade. I’ll not let you beat me up about it.”
“Sleeping in is one thing. You’ve been sulking and you know it. It’s time to do something.”
“Like a puzzle?”
“Like anything; I don’t care.”
“I’ve not been sulking. You know that’s not my personality. I get up once y’all leave. I felt like I was in the way that first morning.”
“You’re not in the way. We’re glad you’re here.” Val carries the pot to the waiting hot pad on the kitchen table. “I made grits and eggs and a sausage veggie hash.”
“That sounds great. Thank you.”
Val’s husband, Micah, walks into the kitchen carrying his favorite mug, a large blue Yellowstone National Park mug, no doubt filled with black coffee.
No one could accuse Micah of having a sweet tooth.
He’s a lawyer and he’s handling the insurance and some other little details to do with the fire.
Could I do it myself? Absolutely. But I’d thrown my arms around my brother-in-law when he’d offered.
If there’s anyone I can trust, it’s Micah.
He and his relationship with Val make me feel …
jealous isn’t the word. It’s more like a feeling of missing out.
They’re an amazing team and I want that.
Someone to love and trust. Someone who will have my back, like I’d have his.
I think a new goal for the time the restaurant is closed is to find a kind, local man to love.
Both those qualifiers are a must. He needs to be kind, and he needs to live here. Or maybe one town over would be okay.
Also, dark hair wouldn’t hurt.
“Mornin’ Ivy. Good to see you up and around.” Micah smiles as he takes his seat at the table.
“Alright. It’s not that crazy that I’m up.”
Val and Micah give me nearly identical looks of dissent.
“It’s not.” I make myself a water and turn to find Juniper and her younger brother, Peter, sitting at the table.
“I almost forgot you lived here,” Peter says, eyeing Ivy over his orange juice. Juniper snickers.
Oh, good grief. “I ate dinner with you guys last night.”
“Yeah, but you did that sometimes before. Breakfast is for people who live here,” Juniper says with a smirk.
“I’ll try to make it down for breakfast from now on so nobody forgets about me.”
“Go, Pete! Go!”
Peter is a fast swimmer for a seven-year-old. He’s in lane four and is only inches behind the winner as they approach the wall.
“You know he can’t hear you, right?” Juniper asks from her spot on my right.
“You’re being awfully sassy to me today. Everyone here is yelling.” I watch as Peter narrowly misses out on the win, then jump down from my place on the bleachers to go congratulate him.
“Parents need to wait at the bleachers.” A middle-aged man holds up his hand toward me.
“Good thing I’m not his parent. Spinster aunt here.” I attempt to win him over with humor, then try to walk around him. I have nothing to lose.
“Spinster aunts need to wait too. It’s for the safety of our swimmers. We’ve had too many people by the pool before, resulting in people being pushed in.”
“Fine.” I’m not unreasonable. I turn back to find my family laughing at me. Gee thanks, guys. I didn’t know the rules.
“Anizey! Did you see how fast I was going? I almost won!” Peter’s a bundle of energy as he runs up to me. I lean down to hug him, immediately regretting it as water soaks through my white shirt. Perfect.
“I sure did, Buddy! You were amazing. I bet you’ll go even faster next race.” I put my arm around his shoulders as we walk to the bleachers. What’s a little more water?
“I know, but I won’t be here for the next race,” Peter pouts.
“Yes, but we will be in England! Maybe while we’re there, we can watch some videos of Michael Phelps in the London Olympics. That would be cool, huh?”
Peter looks at me, confused. “Who’s Michael Phelps?”