10. Vivien
S tanding back as the last chair was brought into the dining room, Vivien felt a familiar thrill as her “organic coastal” vision started to take shape with this first but very critical furniture delivery. Choosing mostly shades of cream and sand with touches of blue and the occasional gold accent to mirror the outdoors, she could slowly feel her vision taking shape to bring this unfinished house to life.
Although, to be fair, the four “residents” who’d lived here for nearly a week had contributed plenty of vitality to the place.
Despite the “camping in a mansion” atmosphere they’d created, the house had become—well, not a home, exactly, but what Lacey might call a “vibe.”
For one thing, Tessa always seemed to have music playing from her portable speaker, creating playlists that blended their youth with a modern sound and kept the spirit high. She’d dubbed her favorite “The Sounds of the Summer House” and the name stuck.
It didn’t matter what the eventual owner would call this place, to them it was and would always be the Summer House.
In addition to the music, Kate’s cooking meant the kitchen was always active, hopping like a well-oiled diner. And Eli’s constant crew of construction workers buzzed around outside, starting the boardwalk, filling the pool, and generally making noise and progress.
It was a unique experience for Vivien, actually surrounded by “life” in an empty house she was staging. It helped her create spaces that functioned, and use light, sound, and traffic patterns to plan the furniture layout.
When the delivery crew completed their work, the noisy sound of a circular saw from the outside project floated in from the open sliding door.
“What’s all this?” Tessa came out from the hallway, dressed in shorts and a tank top and carrying bright orange running shoes, her hair pulled up in a ponytail.
Good heavens, Vivien thought, she did not look like a woman about to turn fifty.
“Furniture!” Vivien announced, pointing to the corner for two men carrying an oversized club chair.
“And barstools, I’m happy to see.” Tessa’s topaz eyes flashed with approval as she cruised through the room, making both men look up fast enough that Vivien thought they might drop the chair.
Clueless of the attention, Tessa zoomed in on the cream leather seats lined up in the kitchen. “Amen and hallelujah, now we can sit at the island and watch Kate work while we drink our G&Ts. Well done, Vivien.”
“Thanks, Tess. I’m happy with the way this looks.”
Tessa came closer, slipping an arm around Vivien’s waist. “I have ideas for my bedroom. You want to know them?”
Vivien slid her a look, always walking that fine line between delighted and dismayed by this woman. Her bedroom? Should she remind her that they would be selling this house…or ask the question she was starting to think about a lot—would Tessa ever leave?
She studied the other woman, marveling at her glowing complexion, her tumbling blond hair, and, of course, a nearly flawless figure. For all that beauty on the outside, though, Vivien frequently sensed someone very lost on the inside.
Kate had confirmed those suspicions during some long walks with Vivien on the beach. Tessa had taken their father’s death extremely hard, Kate had told her. She’d basically rolled up in an emotional ball and hadn’t begun to climb out of her grief.
Kate was certain that losing her job was as much a result of mourning as it was making bad decisions. The last thing Vivien wanted to do was hurt Tessa or remind her that all of this was temporary.
“Absolutely,” she said instead. “I’d love to hear your ideas.”
“Okay, but fair warning. There’s pink involved.”
“Why am I not shocked?” Vivien joked, stepping away. “Kate asked me to tell you she went to Publix. She wanted to ask you to go with, but your door was closed.”
“Beauty rest and now I’m going for a run,” she said, strolling back into the living room, her sock-covered feet sinking into the off-white area rug. “Wow, you nailed this room.”
“It needs accessories,” Vivien said as one of the delivery crew came with a tablet for her to sign.
“All set,” the man said. “You can sign right there and add your title at Vivien Lawson Designs.”
“Title?” She smiled up at him, still getting used to using her maiden name. “That would be president, CEO, and employee of the month.” She scratched her signature on the tablet and handed it back, reaching into her pocket for a well-deserved cash tip.
“Thank you,” she said, following him to the door and slipping him the money. “You guys did a great job.”
When she turned, she found Tessa strolling around the edges of the living room, examining the new sectional with a loving fingertip.
“That must feel good,” Tessa said.
Did she mean giving them a tip? Or the fabric? “What’s that?” Vivien asked.
“To be president, CEO, and self-employed.”
“Ahh. Well, it would feel a lot better if I actually made money.”
Tessa eyed her, strolling into the kitchen, because the woman never stopped moving. “Why don’t you look for another job like the one you had?” she asked. “Why try to go solo?”
Vivien shrugged. “Because the one I had was for my husband. I don’t really want to step back into a firm. I’m not even sure I’d know where to go and, frankly? I don’t like working for someone else.”
“Who does?” Tessa scoffed, glancing over her shoulder. “But there’s security in it—a paycheck, I mean.”
Vivien slipped into one of the new barstools and watched Tessa fill a Solo cup with water from the fridge.
“Is that your plan?” Vivien asked. “To get another job like the one you had at the Ritz?”
“I guess. I’ve been eyeing some of the bigger resort chains, but no one is hiring for what I do. I’ll probably have to devise Plan B. Ugh, that’s my least favorite word.”
Vivien frowned. “Devise?” she guessed.
“ Plan . They make me itch.” She sipped, her eyes smiling over the rim of the cup. “I’ll keep looking, but I can’t count on my old employer for a reference, so I’m not feeling super optimistic.”
“Perfect time to go out on your own,” Vivien said.
Tessa snorted, but didn’t say anything, surprising Vivien.
“It’s not impossible, you know,” Vivien continued. “You can work from home.”
Tessa launched a brow north. “Home? You forget I don’t have one of those.”
“That’s temporary.”
“Until I get a job, so, vicious cycle, isn’t it?”
“I’m serious, Tess. You could easily start an event or party planning business.”
“Easily?” She sounded doubtful as she picked up one of Vivien’s business cards. “I mean, look at this. How did you know you needed a cute logo? And a website? I could never.”
Vivien leaned back, surprised by the sudden lack of confidence in a woman who seemed to ooze it.
“There’s a website that’ll make you a logo for nothing if you order cards from them. I was able to create a new business card with the Lawson name in about six minutes, and they overnighted the pack to me. As for my site? Well, it did help to have a Gen Z daughter who knows her way around something called Squarespace, and we made my site in an afternoon. And Lacey updates it for me—even changed the name and got me a new URL.”
Tessa rounded the island and settled into one of the barstools. “Well, I don’t have a Gen Z daughter and I’m not…business-oriented.”
“Tessa!” Vivien exclaimed. “You can do anything. You’re smart and resourceful.”
Tessa shot her a “get real” look.
“I’m pretty and fast on my feet,” she said with no irony or humility—as if she knew the truth. “That doesn’t help with…” She fluttered the card. “A business? With tax liabilities and employees and a website that doesn’t crash? Please. I do not have my sister’s IQ.”
Vivien was stunned. “You can’t be serious, Tess. You’re very bright. No one can be as witty as you and not be smart.”
“Street smarts,” she said. “The book stuff?” She tapped her ear. “Goes in one, goes out the other. There’s a reason they call them airheads.”
Vivien just shook her head. “Not buying it. Let me show you my website and the spreadsheet I use to run my business—or will when I have multiple clients.”
“So I can be intimidated?”
“As if Tessa Wylie has ever been intimidated by anyone or anything,” Vivien quipped as she opened her laptop and brought it to life.
“I’m not kidding, Vivien. Want to see a grown woman cower in the corner? Make me read a spreadsheet.”
Vivien blinked at her. “Are you serious?”
“What I am is seriously dyslexic, but most people don’t know that about me.”
“I didn’t,” Vivien said.
“Because I didn’t have to read in the summer,” she said easily. “Now I just deal with it. But numbers and spreadsheets? I might as well be reading Latin. And, trust me, you don’t want to see the inside of my checkbook. I haven’t balanced it since that thing we called Y2K.”
Laughing, Vivien tapped the keys. “Spreadsheets are easy now—the computer does it for you. Calculators do the hard stuff, and the bank balances your account. You’re making excuses.”
Tessa leaned in and whispered, “Hey, Kate got the brains and I got the looks. Sadly, one of them fades over the years.” She touched her face. “Tick-tock, you know?”
Vivien’s heart twisted with sympathy as she put her hand on her friend’s arm. “Tess,” she whispered. “You’re wrong.”
She looked like she was digging for a quip, but couldn’t find one.
“You just need one client and you’re off to the races,” Vivien said. “That’s all you need.”
“And I need that .” Tessa looked past her to the computer screen as the clean lines of vivienlawsondesigns.com appeared. “Holy moly, that’s gorgeous!”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling at the reaction to her beautiful site. “It really was surprisingly easy. I bet I could help you get started.”
“Maybe.” Clearly intrigued, Tessa reached over and turned the laptop to get a better look at the crisp tones and modern font. “Show me around your little corner of the internet, Viv.”
“Of course,” she said. “This is the main page, with my mission statement.”
She dropped her head back with a grunt of disgust. “See what I mean? A mission statement? My mission is to have a good time.”
“And that,” Vivien said, pointing a finger at her, “is not a bad mission statement for a party planner.”
Tessa cocked her head, thinking. “Maybe that could be the company name? Good Time Girl?”
“Um, if you’re running an escort service.”
Tessa snorted and nodded. “Point taken. Go ahead, tell me more about this mythical business I’m going to start.”
The door to the garage opened and Kate walked in, laden with bags. “Morning, all! Need arms and assistance.”
Tessa pushed away from the counter. “I’ll help you.”
“You stay right here,” Vivien insisted, putting a hand on her arm. “Click through the site and get ideas.” Without waiting for an argument, Vivien pushed the laptop closer and followed Kate down the few steps to the garage. “How was shopping?” she asked.
“Like a supermarket dream. We’re having chicken parm with my homemade red sauce tonight.”
“Really? That’s Eli’s absolute favorite meal. He orders it everywhere.”
“I know,” she said, reaching into the trunk for one of about ten bags. “That’s why I’m making it.”
Vivien tried to hide her smile, and fought the temptation to make a comment about how much time the two of them had been spending together.
Teasing Kate about Eli had been fine thirty years ago when her friend had a very secret crush on her brother.
Now? Vivien didn’t want anyone to be uncomfortable. And she really didn’t want to jinx what she hoped might be something more than friendship.
“Can you get the rest?” Kate asked, taking her armload of bags.
Just as Vivien reached for a bag, she heard a vehicle pull in behind her, making her grunt in annoyance. When were the construction guys going to stop using their driveway?
She frowned as she turned and saw the car which was…really familiar. It looked exactly like Lacey’s little blue Mazda.
Because it was Lacey’s little blue Mazda!
“What?” She let go of the six-pack of soda and rushed into the sunshine just as her daughter stopped the car and threw open the driver’s-side door. “Lacey, what are you?—”
“Don’t be mad, Mom. Please don’t be mad.” She came forward, arms open. “I absolutely needed to see you.”
Mad? All Vivien could do was wrap her arms around her favorite person on earth and squeeze, overwhelmed by joy.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered and realized she’d never meant anything more.
They stood in the sun long enough to hug and squeeze and for Vivien to look hard in her daughter’s eyes and see…trouble.
“Are you okay?” Vivien asked.
“Yeah, I just…had to come.”
“How long are you staying?” she asked as Lacey pulled two—make that three—bags from the hatchback. “More than just this weekend?”
Lacey gave a tight smile. “Listen, Mom, I?—”
“Oh, hello!” From the garage, Kate called out to them.
“One of the sisters?” Lacey asked, looking at her. Vivien had told her that they’d arrived, but they had talked so briefly over the last few days, she hadn’t filled Lacey in on any details.
She guided Lacey toward the garage. “This is Kate Wylie,” she said, gesturing to the other woman. “Kate, this is my daughter, Lacey, who has knocked my socks off by showing up unannounced.”
“Lacey.” Kate beamed at her, extending a hand. “What an awesome surprise! I’m so happy to meet you.”
“Hi, Kate.” Lacey shook her hand, smiling at her. “Great to meet you. And I hope there’s room for me. I know I didn’t give any warning. I made the decision to come rather, um, impulsively.”
“We’ll fit you in,” Kate assured her, taking the last bag from the trunk and using it to gesture toward the stairs that led up to the kitchen. “We certainly have plenty of food. Get your bags and come on in and meet Tessa.”
“Are you having fun with them?” Lacey asked Vivien as they went back to where she’d left her suitcases.
“I am, and I’m staging the house room by room, which is a blast. Uncle Eli is finishing the outside and…” She frowned, searching Lacey’s face for the honest explanation. “What’s going on with you?”
She exhaled, hauling a bag. “It’s a long story and…not a great one.”
Vivien’s heart dropped. “You quit, didn’t you. Did you?—”
“Lacey!” Suddenly Tessa rushed out, arms extended. “I just heard you’re joining the party! Welcome!” She threw her arms around Lacey and squealed. “I can’t believe Vivien’s daughter is here!”
A little surprised by the welcome, Lacey hugged the other woman right back, then leaned away. “You must be Tessa.”
“The fun one,” Tessa confirmed, taking Lacey’s chin and moving her face side to side, checking her out. “Oh, Vivien Junior,” she announced. “You look exactly like your mother when she was a few years younger than you. Welcome to the Summer House. We’re walkin’ on sunshine and happy to include you.”
Lacey laughed and glanced at Vivien. “They’re so different—just like it said in your diaries.”
“In your what ?” Tessa’s voice rose two octaves. “There are diaries ? From when we were kids?”
“I kept journals,” Vivien admitted. “And they are as juvenile and embarrassing as you would imagine.”
Tessa’s eyes flashed. “Juvenile, maybe. Embarrassing? Never. Did you bring them? Please say yes, because I’m already thinking about a bonfire and a dramatic reading tonight. You in, Lace?”
Lacey giggled, already infected by…the Good Time Girl.
But all Vivien could picture was Eli throwing that diary in the fire before he subjected himself to the public humiliation of his childhood crush on Tessa.
“Let’s just get Lacey settled first,” she said, purposely vague.
“One of the first-level bedrooms?” Tessa asked, taking one of Lacey’s bags by the rolling handle.
“No beds in those rooms,” Vivien reminded her. “I’m in a king in the main suite and I’m swimming in space. Lacey can bunk with me.”
It took a while to get upstairs, since Lacey had to tour the house, greet her Uncle Eli, and swoon over the mini mansion. But an hour after she arrived, Lacey and Vivien were finally alone as she unpacked.
Vivien plopped on the bed, nursing a bottle of water, watching her daughter unzip a bag, waiting for the right time to ask…well, everything.
“Tessa’s amazing!” Lacey cooed as she flipped open the suitcase to what looked like a very hastily packed assortment of clothes.
“Kate’s really sweet, too,” Vivien said, feeling a decades-old urge to defend and support the quieter and less attention-grabbing twin. “Just more low-key.”
“Yeah, Tessa is…high key,” Lacey agreed as she pulled out a cotton dress and looked over it. “I didn’t have any idea what to pack, so…”
“Lacey.” Vivien leaned back and wrapped her arms around a throw pillow, hoping the non-confrontational body language would get her some answers. “You going to tell me what happened?”
“I quit.” She headed to the walk-in closet, disappearing into it as Vivien squeezed the pillow with a growl. She knew it.
The only sound in the suite was a hanger sliding over the bar in the closet. After a few seconds, Lacey came back out, her expression ominous.
“Please don’t try and make me go back there, Mom. Because I’m not. Not after…no.”
“Not after what?”
Letting out a soft groan, Lacey sifted through the mess of packed clothes. “It’s not…good.”
“Well, quitting a job never is.” She searched Lacey’s face, taking in a measurable amount of pain in those pretty blue eyes. “Honey, what happened? Did you mess up another construction schedule? Get into a tiff with the picky old biddy from Peachtree Hills?”
“There’s a new, uh, person at the company.”
Vivien waited for more, but Lacey just lifted a T-shirt and looked around. “Is there a dresser I can?—”
“In the closet. Lacey. What kind of new person? Did Dad hire a new admin who’s moving in on your job?”
She looked up. “A new designer.”
Vivien swallowed a wallop of disappointment, refusing to let it buckle her. “Well, that was bound to happen. Who is it?”
“Una Tatum.”
“ Oof .” Vivien flipped the pillow away at the name of a woman who ran rings around her design-wise. Her clients were the wealthiest in the whole Atlanta area, and her work was stellar. “I’m surprised she’d deign to work for a home builder, considering her client base.”
Lacey bit her lip and turned to go back into the closet. “Yeah, well, it’s…complicated.”
Frowning, Vivien sat up a little straighter, a bad, bad feeling creeping through her. Complicated? “How so?”
“Just…complicated,” Lacey said from inside the closet.
It wasn’t what she said, it was how she said it, making Vivien slide through all she knew about the well-regarded, painfully successful designer. Vivien had heard her speak at a home show once, although they’d never met.
Una Tatum was talented, creative, reliable, and…really attractive. Tiny, gorgeous, and weighed down by flowing blond hair.
“Well,” Vivien said, fighting a lump in her throat as she stood to help Lacey unpack. “It’s Ryan’s business and she’s very good.”
Lacey stepped out of the closet, tears glistening in her eyes. “Very good,” she said, her voice rich with meaning, disgust on her face.
Vivien dropped right back on the bed, crushed by the weight of this revelation. “Are you telling me they…”
Lacey didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. She just curled her lip and shuttered her eyes, and Vivien knew the hard, cold facts. Ryan was looking for “more” and, boy, he’d get it and then some with Una Tatum.
Lacey crossed her arms and stared at Vivien. “Now, do I have your permission to stay for a while, reexamine my life, try to figure out what I want to be when I grow up, and never, ever go back to that place? ’Cause our family is completely broken and I am choosing sides—yours.”
“Lacey…” Her voice cracked.
Instantly, Lacey reached for her. “Mom, I’m so sorry to tell you. I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”
She hugged harder than she should have, channeling all her disappointment and pain into squeezing this sweet angel who she loved so much.
“I hate him, Mom.”
“No, no. Don’t hate him. We’re divorced and?—”
“Not officially. It’s not final. He shouldn’t be with someone, if you ask me.”
But Vivien was certain Ryan hadn’t asked anyone. She eased back, waiting for a tear that didn’t come. But, oh, this was hard. This pretending to easily accept the end of a marriage, decades of dreams and a lifetime of…partnership. No, this was not for the faint of heart.
“Are you jealous, Mom?”
Jealous? No. She was…broken on the inside. But she certainly didn’t want Lacey to know that. She had to be strong for her daughter.
She gave a careless shrug. “Not jealous. But I’m wondering if he’s going to like being with a woman who won’t roll over to his every command.” She gave a soft laugh. “Hard lesson for Ryan Knight to learn.”
Lacey put her arm around Vivien. “I don’t care what he learns,” she said softly. “I’m here to be your precious daughter, best friend, and beloved roommate. I literally am choosing you over Dad. Period, end of story.”
Vivien hugged her, more emotional about the sweet speech than whatever Ryan was doing with another woman. “To the victor goes the spoils, huh?”
Lacey inched back, narrowing her blue eyes. “But I still hate houses.”
“I understand,” Vivien said. “But this one? You can’t hate it.”
She nodded and looked around. “You’re right. It’s got a vibe.”
Vivien tilted her head back and chuckled. “I knew you’d say that.”
“So you knew I was coming.”
She sighed. “Yeah, I guess I did.” She planted a kiss on Lacey’s cheek. “And, honey, the vibe just got better with you here.”