Love Blooms on Main Street (23 page)

Mark just shrugged. “You've done it before. I would have thought you'd be a pro by now.”

Brett narrowed his eyes. He and Mark had always gotten along, but he still wondered, and worried, what his brother really thought of him. Now his worst fear was being voiced. “Do you really think I'm that cold?”

Mark held his stare evenly. “I'm just saying that you've had no problem staying away for long periods of time in the past. Hell, we've barely seen you for more than a few days at a time in over a decade. I don't see what's changed now.”

“It wasn't all by choice,” Brett said, feeling his defenses rise. His hours were unforgiving, always had been.

“I know. But it doesn't change the facts.”

Nope, it didn't. Brett shook his head and drained his beer. His brother had a point, one he didn't want to hear, but it was the last part of his statement that hit him the hardest.

Something had changed. And that made him uncomfortable.

He glanced at the flowers, still on the coffee table, and wondered if Mark had noticed them yet. Instead his brother shifted topics to the restaurant and his wedding plans. When he stood to leave, Brett stopped him.

“Do me a favor and don't say anything to Mom just yet about my plans. Nothing's decided yet.”

Mark held his stare for a long time and finally nodded. “Hey, it's your life. Only you know what's best.”

Only he didn't. Once he thought he knew, but not anymore.

He closed the door behind his brother and eyed the blinking light on his phone. The email from the hospital in DC, still unopened. His finger hovered over the button, so close it wouldn't take much to press down, learn his fate once and for all and adjust accordingly. He'd always let opportunity be his guide—how could he justify ever passing it up? But emotions were starting to cloud his judgment, make him doubt himself. Make him rethink his past and his future.

He set the phone on the kitchen counter. Only a few weeks ago, the thought of checking that message would have filled him with hope and relief. But now… now it just filled him with dread.

A
s Ivy had hoped, the sun came out just in time for Jane's bridal shower on Sunday, filling the Madisons' childhood home with light. Ivy shifted a vase to a better angle and stepped back from the dining table that had been set up as a buffet. She hadn't been back in this house since the fall, and that visit was one she was trying not to remember.

Sophie skipped up to her, grabbed a cookie from a tray, and flashed her a big smile. Immediately Ivy noticed the grown-up tooth that was already starting to fill the gap where her front teeth used to be and realized the little girl was waiting for her reaction.

“My, my, is that a big-girl tooth I see?” She couldn't help but smile as Sophie nodded proudly.

“Yep! Hopefully this one won't fall out any time soon or my mom will start crying again…”

Ivy laughed. “Hopefully that tooth never falls out. I like your dress, by the way.”

Smiling, Sophie smoothed the skirt of her dress. “Henry bought it for me. Is he your brother?”

Even though this had been established, the concept was still a lot for Sophie to take in. “Yes, he is my brother. The best brother a girl could have.”

“I have a brother,” Sophie said quietly. Though it wasn't talked about much, Jane's ex and his new wife had welcomed a baby boy in the spring. “Mommy said maybe after she and Henry get married, I'll have another one.”

Ivy's heart swelled for her brother. Just seeing how he was with Sophie, she knew he would make a wonderful father. “How do you feel about that?”

Sophie scrunched up her nose. “I told Mommy that sounded all right, but only if it's a girl this time. Boys aren't fancy.”

With that she took another cookie and darted into the living room, where the rest of the women were gathered. Ivy watched the little girl go, her pink dress trailing behind her, and eyed the buffet. Cookies. Cakes. It had been Sophie's idea to make the shower a tea party, and Jane being Jane went along with it.

Of course that meant there was next to nothing that Ivy would be able to eat, unless she wanted to increase her insulin and spend the majority of the party monitoring her sugar levels. She'd reassured Jane over and over that she didn't care, that it was her party, after all, and Ivy could eat a cucumber sandwich or something… but she hated cucumber, and the truth was, she did care. Even now, all grown up, she still felt singled out and different. Like an outsider, instead of one of the group.

She looked around at the beautiful house she'd spent so much time in as a child, always finding comfort and happiness here and always feeling the abrupt sting of reality when it was time to go home. To her real home. With Henry, and her mother, and the unknown…

“There you are.” Kathleen Madison's smile could be heard in the warmth of her voice, and Ivy felt her eyes tingle a little as Jane's mother set an arm around her shoulder. “The flowers look lovely. Thank you for being such a good friend to my girls.”

“Sisters now,” Ivy marveled. It still hit her every once in a while that her brother was marrying her best friend's little sister and that somehow, in a roundabout way, she was almost a part of the family now, too. An official part.

“Come on in and join the others. Did you try Anna's cake?”

“Oh. I saw it. It's beautiful.” And it was, white and pink with such pretty piping and sugar flowers that it was nearly too pretty to eat. But as she followed Kathleen into the living room, she saw that its aesthetics hadn't stopped the others, who were happily scooping silky frosting onto their spoons and bringing it to their mouths.

Anna noticed Ivy's empty hands and looked startled. “Didn't you get a piece? There's more.” She stood and cut a perfect wedge for Ivy.

Ivy picked up a fork weakly and eyed the three perfect layers of the cake.

Anna was watching her expectantly, as was Kathleen, and for lack of anything else to do in the moment, Ivy winced and lowered her voice. “I'm actually having some stomach problems today…”

Anna's blue eyes popped. “Oh. Oh, you poor thing. Here,” she said, taking the plate, “I'll wrap it up for you for later.”

“Thanks.” Ivy smiled in relief. The party was going to be a success—not overshadowed by her drama, like Grace's had been.

But as she looked around the room at all the women, she started to feel the walls pull away from her. Most of them were married or engaged, several already had children, and the closest thing she had to a love life was a guy who couldn't figure out what he wanted and seemed hell-bent on leading her on and letting her down.

It had been a week since the night of the flower arranging class. A week since Brett's kiss. A week with no phone call, no sight of him, nothing.

Just like before…

Ivy spotted Kara across the room and quickly made her way over to her. “Is it just me or does it seem like we're the only two single girls here?”

“Tell me about it,” Kara sighed. “I'm on my third piece of cake. If my mother notices, I'll never hear the end of it.” She shoveled the last bit into her mouth and chewed woefully.

“She means well,” Ivy said.

“That's easy for you to say. She's not your mother.” Kara set a hand on Ivy's arm when she winced. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so insensitive. It's just…”

“I understand,” Ivy said, and she did. Rosemary had a big personality, and Kara wasn't as self-assured as her mother. It couldn't be easy living in that shadow.

Ivy should know.

“No, I shouldn't make comments like that.”

“I'm your friend. You don't need to treat me with kid gloves,” Ivy reassured her, or maybe
pleaded
was a better word. All her life, she'd been treated differently because of her mother, and she didn't need that following her into adulthood. “Is she still trying to set you up?”

“Oh, probably.” Kara pursed her lips. “I'm just tired of feeling like nothing I do is ever right.”

“What about your cookies?” Ivy brightened. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen them on the buffet table. The ones Sophie kept snatching were from Anna—she'd come to recognize them over the years. “You should have brought some today.”

“No,” Kara said quickly. “This is Jane's day, and Anna's her sister. I didn't want to overstep.”

“About the cookies,” Ivy suddenly remembered. “Jane told me Anna gave her your box for Sophie's school bake sale.”

Kara looked at her with interest. “The box I gave her as a gift?”

Ivy nodded. “Apparently Jane forgot about the event and went to Anna to see if there was anything on hand.”

“So she might not have commented because she still hasn't tried them…” Kara beamed.

Ivy surveyed the room. The conversations were winding down, and they'd be opening gifts soon. While they were discussing Kara's cookies, she decided to indulge in a topic she had promised herself all the way here she would avoid, because, well, she couldn't resist.

“So, um, have you… talked to Brett lately? About the cookies and the fundraiser and all that?”
Smooth, Ivy. Real smooth.

Luckily, Kara was too busy scraping what remained of the frosting on her plate to notice the eagerness Ivy felt. “Oh, not recently. I think he went back to Baltimore for a few days.”

This news came as a surprise. A ping of hope surged through her. Maybe that was why he hadn't called.

“Knowing him, he's probably already making plans to go back,” Kara added, and walked into the kitchen to deposit her plate.

“Ivy! Come sit here!” Sophie was calling across the room, grinning ear to ear. “My mommy just told me that when she marries Henry, I get another aunt… and it's you!”

Ivy blinked away the tears that had now formed in her eyes and crossed to give the little girl a hug. Only she wasn't so sure what was hitting her harder: the fact that she was finding that perfect little cozy family she'd always dreamed of or the fact that yet again, it felt a little secondhand.

The first place Brett stopped when he got back to Briar Creek was Hastings. It had been a long drive from DC, and he was still wound up from the interview. As surprised as he was to admit it, only one thing could ease his agitation right now, and his mother would be pretty pleased to hear it.

“Chocolate chip pancakes,” he said, sliding onto a stool.

She poured him a cup of coffee, even though it was late afternoon. “How was the drive?”

“Long,” he said. Too long and too quiet. He'd been up since light broke, and he had a solid nine hours to replay the interview, oscillating between worrying he would get the job and worrying he wouldn't. It was a first-class hospital, one of the best emergency departments in the Mid-Atlantic and a place he'd be proud to put on his résumé. But it would also be much like the position he'd come from. High stakes, high pressure. High stress.

But it was also the kind of job he'd set out to have. The kind he'd stayed on the path for. Sacrificed for. How could he turn it down?

He eyed his mother as she took another order, laughing at something one of the regulars said. The old man had been coming here since Brett was a kid. Brett had left town, gone on to build an entire life somewhere else, and all this time, Mr. Adams was sitting here, sipping his coffee and reading the paper.

For a moment, it was hard not to envy the guy.

The same thought took over every time he considered the path he'd not chosen. What his life might have looked like if he'd stayed. He'd eased the guilt by telling himself the outcome would have been the same. His mother would have gotten well, and then she would have relapsed. Being here couldn't have changed that.

He was hoping one day he'd finally accept it.

“Heard you went to that flower arranging class last week,” his mother said with a gleam in her eyes.

Brett set his forearms down on the table and sighed. “Who told you?”

“More like, who didn't?” Mark's voice boomed behind him. Sliding onto the stool beside him, he slapped Brett on the back and grinned. “Heard you broke more than a dozen flower stems. Are you causing Ivy trouble?”

Brett stilled, then, after he realized what his brother meant, tried to relax. His laugh felt strained as he reached for his mug again, only to find it empty.

Causing Ivy trouble was the last thing he wanted, but he had a bad suspicion that was exactly what he was doing. There was no point in getting involved with her now—not when he could be leaving town as early as next month.

“What were you doing in that class anyway?” Mark asked, walking around the counter to help himself to a carafe of fresh brew. “I told you all the girls were going—” He stopped, his eyes lighting up like they used to when they were little, when he discovered Brett had kept that snapping turtle in a box behind the garage instead of marching it back to the lake per their father's instructions.

Setting the pot back on the burner, he folded his arms over his chest and asked, “Who is it?”

“It's no one.” Brett scowled. There was no getting out of this one. Mark wasn't dumb. Not dumb enough to think Brett would ever take a flower arranging class for the sheer hell of it. “It was just… research.”

Mark lifted an eyebrow. “Research?”

“For the fundraiser. I was thinking of asking Ivy to auction off a series of classes. I wanted to see what they were like.” He considered the idea. He'd bring it up next time he saw her.

Mark held his stare, unwavering, for a length of time—an old intimidation tactic they used to use to see if the other was bluffing—and finally, almost convinced, shrugged and sat back down.

“So you're still overseeing the event then,” Mark said quietly. He was the only person Brett had told about his interview in DC. But it stopped there. The reasons behind it all were still something Brett wasn't ready to share with anyone… other than Ivy.

It had been a moment of weakness, he'd rationalized. A bad day that he couldn't shake. But it had felt good to open up to Ivy, to voice his demons, to feel her soft skin on his hands as she listened.

“Of course I'm still overseeing it,” he said.

“Still doing what?” Sharon asked, coming out of the kitchen with his order.

Guilt heated his blood. “Organizing some silent auction items for the fundraiser.”

Sharon patted his arm, smiling warmly. “I'm just so impressed with your efforts. When I think of where the proceeds will go… It's high time they spruced up that wing. I'm sure it's not what you've been used to in those fancy city hospitals.”

God, he wished she would stop talking like this.

“There are merits to bigger hospitals,” he said tightly.

“There's no denying that Forest Ridge Hospital needs some improvements. It's not the same as Burlington, but for a lot of people on the outskirts, that's their best option, and some can't even manage that.”

Brett frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, just some stuff I've heard about cost of care these days.” She shook her head. “If I'd been sick any sooner, I never would have gotten out from under those medical bills. Not with the debt your father had left us in. I suppose I have this place to thank for getting us through.” She opened her arms to the diner.

Brett wasn't finished with the conversation just yet. “The cost of care has gone up for some.”

“It affects more people than you doctors realize,” Sharon scolded.

Brett tightened his grip on his fork, thinking of what Ivy had said about her setback last summer and then her comments about doing the fundraiser to help her business.

That cemented it. He'd stop by, talk to her about the silent auction, and make damn sure that this benefit helped her cause. In every possible way.