Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
MARLOWE
T hat night they ate pizza in front of a blazing fire. The temperature had fallen to twenty-eight––unheard of in Naples. Marlowe was cuddled up on the sofa in her jeans and bulky white turtleneck, a paper plate in her lap. Eating in the living room gave them a chance to look around. What did they want this house to look like? They were so used to the battered rattan furniture, the old sofa and chair with threadbare arms and their cherished oriental rugs.
The general feeling was that this room was too dark. When they were growing up, they’d run in and out of the house, screen door snapping shut behind them as they catapulted into the sunshine. Sitting here in the short days of winter, Marlowe felt enclosed. Without a Christmas tree, the room looked dreary. She wondered why Izzy had never brought up the tired look of the house they loved so much. Maybe she didn’t want to burden them with buying new furniture.
After Skipper left and they were settled back with tummies full of mozzarella and sausage, Izzy brought out the popcorn basket that they'd found in the attic. Over the holidays they’d had great fun with it. Even though she wasn’t really hungry after the pizza, Marlowe loved the smell of the corn popping over the open fire. Before long she was shaking the basket over the flames while Sam melted the butter. Delighted that her fan group was back together again, baby Holly smashed about the living room and back out into the hall in her runabout.
“I feel as if she's grown over the past few weeks,” Marlowe said. The baby girl’s legs looked stronger and she spewed more words into the air with confidence, demanding “hugs” and replying “you bet” to almost any question.
Marlowe turned to Izzy. “Holly must keep you on your toes.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “You bet.” They all laughed.
“How is she doing in daycare?” Sam asked.
“She loves it. But Miss Goodman, her teacher, told me that if Holly doesn't get her way, she plops to the floor and pounds her fists.” Izzy shook her head. “We’re working on anger management.”
Barely one year old, and her niece was working on reining in her high spirits. Although she laughed along with the others, Marlowe remembered when Izzy did the same thing. Izzy probably wouldn't remember. She’d been their baby girl, and they’d all spoiled her, especially after their parents were gone. No wonder she had fits of frustration when things didn’t go her way.
Holly was delightful and Marlowe admired Izzy’s decision to adopt. Although her marriages had not worked out, evidently Izzy had held onto her dream of having a family. Good for her for making that happen. Marlowe herself wasn't quite sure how she felt about children. Maybe those days were gone for her. In her drive to succeed, she may have bypassed the usual path of husband and children. But who knew what lay ahead of her in Charlevoix?
Aunt Cate was great at filling them in about what had happened here in town while they were gone. But she seemed tired and before long, their aunt crept up to bed. The rest of them soon followed. During the holidays, they’d all called out “Good Night” to each other, just like the Walton family in their father’s favorite Christmas movie. That night they easily fell back into that habit. “Good night, Aunt Cate!” “Good night, Izzy and Sam!” Their voices ricocheted throughout the second floor. The room was cold as Marlowe snuggled down under the daisy comforter from her childhood. But she wouldn’t want to be anyplace else. All the frustrations of her Naples office were forgotten.
The next morning heat rattled through the old floor vents and Marlowe thought she heard her aunt down in the kitchen. She sniffed. Yep, bacon. When she cracked open her door to dash to the bathroom, the upstairs hallway was quiet. The oriental runner felt stiff and cold underfoot. If the baby had awakened, Izzy must be taking care of her in their bedroom. Back in her room Marlowe slipped into her yoga pants and a turtleneck. Shivering, she drew on heavy socks before making her way down the back steps.
“Aren't you the early bird.” Looking regal in an aqua kimono robe patterned with bright pink flowers, Aunt Cate had a spatula in her hand.
“The bacon was enough to bring me down.” Going over to the coffee machine, Marlowe pulled open the drawer. When she found a pod of caramel macchiato coffee, she popped it into the coffee maker.
“How about some eggs?” her aunt asked.
“Fine if you're making them for yourself. Otherwise, don't bother.” Marlowe wasn't used to someone else cooking for her. But on this cold morning, it sure felt good.
“Glad to have you back. The place felt empty after you girls left,” her aunt told her, cracking eggs into the iron frying pan.
“I’ll admit that coming home to my own place felt different.” Marlowe was still turning that over in her head. She slid into one of the chairs around their circular wooden table.
“What do you mean? Different how?”
Leaning back, Marlowe stretched out her long legs. “When I bought that condo a few years back, it was my dream home. I thought I'd be there forever.”
Her aunt laughed and flipped the eggs. “That's ridiculous. You're way too young to be settling into someplace forever.”
Marlowe thought she knew where her aunt was going with that comment. “You mean as a single, right? But maybe marriage won't happen for me.”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” After scooping the eggs from the pan, Aunt Cate added slices of tomato and buttered toast to their plates before sliding them onto the table.
“No, I just don't have an answer. And thank you. This looks wonderful.” Since she lived alone, having someone cook for her was a treat. Marlowe reached for the salt and pepper as her aunt sat down, rolling back the sleeves of her kimono. Although Aunt Cate was growing older, she was still attractive, even without makeup.
“In all the years since college, hasn't there been anyone you cared about?”
“No, not really. No one who was available anyway.”
“You're still thinking of relocating here, right?” Her aunt darted her a nervous glance. “Maybe that's what you're thinking about. It might be hard to give up your condo.”
“You know what? I think it's time to move on from the condo. One of the properties I sold recently in that historic part of Naples was the cutest cottage you'd ever want to see. It would have been perfect for me a few years ago.”
“And now?...” Her aunt spooned orange marmalade onto her toast.
“I wasn’t even tempted. Good thing because a woman I work with went crazy over that house. She quickly put her condo on the market, and I’m handling it. She couldn’t wait to have that darling house with the garden and pool in the back. Shari’s single and very independent, but I don't want to be her in twenty years.”
“You won't be, dear.” Her aunt bit into her toast, and Marlowe did the same. For a couple of minutes they both munched contentedly. But her aunt’s mind must have been working the entire time. “Did you ever concentrate on finding the right man? Apply the same dedication you use in your work with online dating apps, that kind of thing?”
“Guess I never had time. My career came first.” That was putting it mildly. Realtors didn't have a day off, not if they wanted to succeed. “I'll probably do the same thing here to ramp up my business. Tomorrow I have an appointment with Gabby, the woman I met on the plane. She and her husband sell properties in the Petoskey area. I think the name was Bay Harbor.”
Her aunt’s eyes lit up. “I've driven over there. Looks very luxurious. And in the summer I'm sure it's very sought after. Did you say tomorrow afternoon?”
“Right. Noon or something like that.”
“The contractor is coming with some drawings in the late morning. I hope you can meet him.”
“I can't wait to see some of his ideas.” Marlowe paused.
“Oh, I think you'll like him.”
Marlowe had been lifting her coffee mug to her lips, but something in her aunt’s voice made her choke. Coffee shot up her nose. Grabbing a napkin she dabbed at it. “What are you talking about? I want to see the sketches and you seem to be talking about the man.” Her aunt could be such a minx.
“You'll see when he shows up.” Her aunt looked very mysterious, and Marlowe dug in her heels. She had a lot on her plate and didn’t want her aunt complicating things with any matchmaking.
“Aunt Cate, I'm not desperate. Let's not be making plans for me, okay?” Marlowe had enough on her mind. “If you want to do some matchmaking, concentrate on Sam. I think she has a date with Josh.”
“I know. Dinner at his house. That sounds serious, doesn't it? Can we expect some kind of a romantic announcement?” Aunt Cate batted her eyes.
Sam would throw a fit if she heard this. “Since their reunion was only a few weeks ago, I doubt if Josh is going to drop to one knee with a ring,” Marlowe said dryly.
“I don't know about that. Not the way that man looks at her.”
Her aunt had a point. Marlowe had been with the two of them. The way Josh had tended her sister’s sprained ankle was straight from a romcom movie. “That could very well be. But I think she's still getting over her divorce. She might need some time.”
Springing up, Aunt Cate swished over to the ancient refrigerator and took out more gingerbread creamer for her coffee.
“Have you checked the date on that creamer?” Marlowe asked. “Isn't that the same stuff we used for Christmas?”
Giving the container a little shake, Aunt Cate frowned. “I just hate to waste things. Everything is so expensive.”
Marlowe snorted. “So are trips to the ER.”
Money had never been a problem for Aunt Cate. Although she'd only seen glimpses of her aunt and uncle's life during trips to New York, they lived at a far higher level than her parents. Marlowe’s father had been a high school teacher and Mom chose to be a homemaker. Sunnycrest had come to them through her grandparents. The summer home had been left to both Cate and Joanne. Now Marlowe and her two sisters owned their mother’s half, and their aunt owned the other fifty percent. “Why don't we wait and see what happens between Sam and Josh?”
Things were in such upheaval right now. When Marlowe heard that Sam had put her house on the market, she could hardly believe it. Sure they'd talked about this but Sam was really marching right along. The pressure was on. Marlowe had to make things happen on her end.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Aunt Cate said, sipping her coffee. “Your sister has always liked to finish things up, whether it’s a research paper or a dress she’s sewing, she's not a woman to let loose ends dangle.”
“I know.” Her aunt was right about that. “But after what Kurt pulled, she might move very carefully with Josh.”
“She had such strong feelings for him years ago.”
“Yes. Yes, she did.” Marlowe pinned her aunt with a glance. “Are you determined to marry us off? What’s going on?”
“I'm only thinking of your future, sweetheart.” Wearing a Cheshire cat smile, her aunt tightened that beautiful robe around her. There was nothing low key about Cate Conway. She made a statement through her beautiful clothes, faultless makeup and mannerisms. And it all seemed so effortless. Their mother had been pragmatic. She’d worn sensible tie shoes and chose slacks in navy or khaki, styles and colors that would hold up for many years. When you were married to a teacher, that attitude came naturally, but Aunt Cate? That wasn't her at all. She’d been invited to the Met Gala in New York more than once.
Marlowe had to guide her away from this conversation about her future. “I’ll see what happens tomorrow at my meeting with Gabby and her husband.”
“Sounds promising.”
“I'm trying not to get too excited. But in order to relocate I really need some sales up here. That means establishing myself. Apparently a couple of the realtors go south in the winter so having a full time realtor in the wings might be a help for them.”
“That sounds encouraging. I am so proud of you, sweetheart. What you’ve accomplished all by yourself since graduating from college is just amazing.” Taking a sip of her coffee, her aunt beamed with pride.
Usually Marlowe brushed off compliments. But this time she let the words soak in. Lately, her confidence had taken a dive, maybe as a result of that mess with Landon and the Port Royal property. Her aunt’s glowing words helped restore her faith in herself.
Sam soon joined them and so did Izzy, carrying baby Holly. They had such fun watching her eat Cheerios. Once in a while she'd toss some to Piper, who waited obediently under the highchair. That dog knew the drill.
Although Sam had brought her cat Bogart with her over the holidays, this time she had a pet sitter stopping in at the Naperville house. Sam said she wanted to concentrate on the renovation while she was at Sunnycrest, but Marlowe wondered if the focus of her attention was really Josh McCall. In any case, Sam had changed the locks on her house and seemed pretty certain that Kurt would not come in and raid the place again, as she put it.
“What time is the contractor coming?” Sam asked.
“Around eleven. He said he had something else going on,” Izzy said.
“And will Skipper be here too?” Marlowe asked, waiting for her sister's reaction.
Popping some bread into the toaster, Izzy shook her head. “Of course not. Why would he?”
Marlowe shared a look with Sam. “Oh, I don't know,” Sam said slowly. “I saw the way he was looking at you before he left yesterday. He would have stayed after dinner if you'd asked him. I'll bet that boy likes popcorn.”
“Don't be silly.” Taking some butter and jam from the refrigerator, Izzy made a face. “That's your imagination. Skipper is a great pastry chef at Coffee and Cupcakes. I don't know what I'd do without him. He’s a good guy. His mother depends on him.”
“Oh?” Marlowe was all ears. She knew that Skipper's dad had died quite a while ago. Thinking back to Izzy’s first wedding, which was so long ago, she remembered his mother as a delicate bird-like woman.
“You know he lives with his mother. It was that or she’d have to go into a home. Skipper wasn't going to let that happen.” Izzy was spending a long time spreading marmalade on her toast.
“Certainly commendable, but Tall Oaks isn't the end of everything,” Aunt Cate said. “From what I’ve seen it's a pretty lively place.”
“I know that,” Izzy said quietly. “But Skipper has his way. He can be stubborn.”
Her sister was missing the point. “Of course he loves his mother, but I think he still feels strongly about you,” Marlowe said. Certainly Izzy could see that.
“I think Marlowe is onto something, Izzy.” Aunt Cate said softly. She should know since she'd been living here with Izzy for a while. “It's not hard to see that Skipper has never gotten over you.”
“Did he ever remarry?” Sam asked.
“No, he never remarried. I think he lived with a woman for a while but he didn't make it official. The word is that she got fed up.”
Hmm. Fed up with what? The fact that he was still in love with his first wife? Marlowe had her suspicions.
“Skipper seems very responsible now,” Aunt Cate said softly. “He's always helping out.” Was their aunt making a pitch for Izzy's ex? What had been going on here? Marlowe exchanged another confused look with Sam.
When Izzy tossed her topknot of curls, she looked like she was about eighteen. Meanwhile, Marlowe scrutinized every new crease on her own face every morning.
Izzy wasn't backing down. “Of course he's responsible,” she said with a sniff. “After all, he picks Holly up from daycare sometimes.”
“I think he loves your little girl, sweetheart.” Aunt Cate was not giving up. Marlowe was beginning to wish that she'd give it a rest. Izzy was applying that knife to the toast like it was a samurai sword. A chunk flipped onto the floor and Piper snapped it up. Looking down from her highchair Holly shook her head. “No, no, no.” She wiggled one finger for emphasis with Piper, who was happily munching away. Really, that child was a trip.
Meanwhile, Izzy looked upset. Springing up, Marlowe took her plate over to the counter, wiped her hands on a towel and then turned to hug her baby sister. “We're just looking out for you.”
Sniffling a bit, Izzy pulled a tissue from her sleeve, just the way their mother used to do, and jabbed at her nose. “You're treating me like a baby. You don't think I know what I want. But I do.”
Now that got their attention.
“Oh, honey. That's not true.” Sam looked as if she wanted to hug Izzy too but their baby sister held up one hand.
“Sorry, am I the culprit here?” Aunt Cate looked from Marlowe to Sam and back again. “I didn't mean anything by that comment. Just that I think Skipper has feelings for you and Holly. But I'm not saying that you have to do anything about that.”
“Good. Because a person's spots don't change.”
What did that mean? Marlowe was beginning to feel exasperated. “Okay,” Aunt Cate said, raising her brows. “We’ll take you at your word.”
They ate in uncomfortable silence for a little while. Marlowe was relieved when Aunt Cate reminded them that the contractor would be there in the late morning. Since Marlowe had that noon meeting just up the road, she wouldn't be able to stay long, but she sure wanted to see those drawings. After putting her dishes in the dishwasher, she ran upstairs to get ready.
When she stepped into her room, Marlowe always felt as if she were returning to the past. Over the years she'd resisted any efforts of her aunt or sisters to update the daisy covered comforter, curtains and pillows. She loved this room. The large windows looked out over the roof of the screen porch and that made her chuckle. How many times had she escaped the house with her sister Sam on a summer night when they both wanted to be down on the beach with a bunch of teenagers?
But the family's efforts were now all about change. And her bedroom was so dated. The furniture made her feel like she was returning to her high school or college days. Was she ready to move on? She felt conflicted about her decision. Maybe they all were and they just hadn't talked about it.
Conversation at the breakfast table bothered her. As she got dressed, Marlowe had to remind herself not to treat Izzy like a little girl. Sure, when they were all growing up, Izzy had been so much younger than they were. Four years younger than Marlowe and six years younger than Sam. Of course they treated her like a little sister. But now they were all adults and they better act like it.
After high school graduation, Izzy hadn't wanted to go on with her schooling. Instead she came back up to Charlevoix and married Skipper Malone. They were both too young, and the marriage was a disaster. Izzy had broken an entire set of Franciscan dishware throwing plates at her new husband. Spoiled? Maybe. Instead of putting her nose to the grindstone and working out her issues, Izzy had divorced. One year later, she married again. The same thing had happened with Chuck, although he’d hung in there for three years.
Now she was a dedicated mother and never talked about dating. Maybe there were only so many new things a woman could take on at one time. Marlowe could understand that.
For her lunch with Gabby, she had a hard time deciding on her outfit. After all, this was Michigan in the winter. When she'd come up here for Christmas, she'd felt kind of strange in her white Levis. The bright denim had attracted a few curious looks. Everyone else was bundled up in gear fit for Alaska, including dark denim and warm boots.
Marlowe decided to take it up a notch with black slacks and boots, topped by a cropped red swing jacket. The turquoise pin added a pop of color. After a quick shower in the second floor bathroom, Marlowe yanked her hair back into a high ponytail. The effect accented her honey colored eyes, especially after a light brush of brown eyeshadow on each lid. Her hands shook.
Was she nervous or excited? After Gabby had given her the name Driscoll & Associates, Marlowe had gone online to click on their website. She liked what she saw. Many of the properties were high end and that mattered. She couldn't go back to selling properties on the lower range and still maintain the lifestyle she’d worked so hard to establish.
The bell rang and the mascara wand fell from her hand. The architect was early. After smoothing back her hair and swiping on some bright red lipstick, she opened the bathroom door.
“Oh no! Is that Seth Barrett?” Izzy squawked as she ran up the steps with Aunt Cate and Sam right behind her.
“Marlowe. Thank heavens.” Izzy held Holly out to her. “Do you mind?”
“Of course not.” When she grabbed the baby, Holly craned her neck to see where her mom was going. Please don’t cry. Marlowe wasn't used to having Holly all to herself. Sam seemed fascinated by her, but Marlowe didn’t have friends with children. She had no experience. The little baby seemed mystified by all the excitement, but not unhappy. But then again, she had a pacifier in her mouth. With Holly in her arms, Marlowe carefully made her way down the staircase leading to the hall. The tall man standing outside was shadowed against the smoked glass inset. Shifting Holly to her left hip, Marlowe yanked open the door.