Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard (29 page)

“Okay, I'll go.”

“And…”

“And what?”

“And I want you to
come home
with Blake.” Vivian grinned deviously. “Do you think you can do that?” Waverly shook her head. “I don't know.”

“Will you at least try?”

“That's your dying mother's request?”

“It is…for today anyway.”

“Meaning I can expect more?”

Vivian gave her a sly wink. “I suppose I could milk this illness for all it's worth. But, really, that's not my style. I doubt there'll be more.”

“Hello, hello!” Aunt Lou came bursting into the room. “Now whatever did you do to get yourself in here, Viv?”

So Vivian filled her in on the fainting story. “So very silly, if you think about it. But poor Blake thought I was having a heart attack, so you can't really blame him for calling for help. The next thing I knew I was having a ride in an ambulance. That was a first.”

“Oh, my.” Aunt Lou shook her head. “What a day you've had.”

Vivian handed her a brochure. “But perhaps fortuitous too.”

“What's this?” Aunt Lou studied the pamphlet. “Hospice?” She looked surprised, but without saying anything, she perused it. “Well, I suppose hospice might be helpful.” With a doubtful look, she peered over her glasses at Vivian. “You'd be okay with that? People coming to the house to check on you and all that?”

“I met one of their people today. She seemed nice. She told me they've got some new options for pain control that I might want to look into.”

Just then a doctor, followed by a nurse, came into the room, announcing his plan to release her. “But first we'll check some things,” he told Vivian. “If all is well, you can be on your way.”

Waverly and Louise stepped out to make more room. Waverly led her aunt to the nearby waiting area, where they both sat down.

“Goodness, Waverly, what is on your face?” Aunt Lou demanded.

“What?”

Aunt Lou pointed to her cheek. “It's lime green.”

“Oh.” Waverly held up her splotchy hands. “Just paint. Sicily and I finished up at The Gallery today. You'll have to come by and see it.”

Aunt Lou checked her watch. “Aren't you attending that big shindig tonight? No offense, dear, but you really need to get home and fix yourself up some.”

“I don't really want to go tonight,” Waverly admitted. “Vivian insisted that I should go, but I think I'll—”

“You'll do as your mother says.” Aunt Lou shook her finger at her. “Vivian won't tell you this, Waverly, but she could literally go at any moment.”

“That's exactly what I'm worried about,” she confessed. “In that case, I don't want to leave her alone at all—not even tonight.”

“No. No.
No.”
With a grim expression, Aunt Lou shook her head so hard that her double chin shook. “You do not understand, Waverly. If you start treating Vivian like that, you will ruin everything.”

“What do—”

“Listen to me, young lady, because I only plan to say this once. Do you understand?”

Waverly nodded.

“For starters, the only reason Vivian agreed to live with me at all was because I promised to act as if nothing is wrong with her. The reason she's been hesitant to tell you is because she's worried that you'll start to fuss over her. She does
not
want that. In fact, she warned me that if I begin to fret or worry over her, if I do as much as tell her to put on a sweater or take a nap—even once—she might pick up and leave. With no forwarding address. Certainly you know your mother well enough to know she would do that. Do you not?”

“You're right. I do.”

“If we make Vivian feel like an invalid or a dying woman, she would hop the next flight to Timbuktu, go find herself a grass hut, and die alone. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She nodded. “Janice knows this too. She has the good sense not to mollycoddle Vivian either.”

Waverly bit her tongue from declaring that Janice Grant would never mollycoddle
anyone.

Aunt Lou waved over to the doctor who had just exited Vivian's room. “Excuse me,” she called out. “Does Vivian get to go home now?”

He nodded. “Yes. But I highly recommend that she sign up for our hospice program.”

“Yes. I believe she's interested.”

“I also gave her the name of an associate, a brilliant oncologist who—”

“Save your breath,” she told him. “My sister has no interest in pursuing additional medical services.”

“So I heard.” He slipped a pen in his jacket pocket. “Now, if you'll excuse me.”

Waverly returned to the room, where the nurse was just removing the IV tube and placing a bandage on Vivian's arm. “Do you want me to help you get dressed?” the nurse offered as she tossed some things in the garbage.

“No, thank you.” Vivian gave her a tired smile. “I've been dressing myself for more than six decades now. I think I can remember how to do it.”

“Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes with a wheelchair.”

“I do not need a wheelchair.”

“Hospital policy,” the nurse said crisply, then gathered her things and left.

Waverly was torn now. Everything in her wanted to offer to help her mother too, but she also wanted to respect what Aunt Lou had said. “Anything I can do for you?” she asked timidly.

“No. You and Aunt Lou go wait for me in the lobby, please. I'll be down shortly.”

Aunt Lou tossed Waverly an I-told-you-so glance, and together they left Vivian to fend for herself. As they waited in the main lobby, Waverly knew this wasn't going to be easy. But she also knew she didn't want to be the reason Vivian ran off to the ends of the earth for her final days.

“There you are,” Aunt Lou said happily as Vivian was wheeled toward the entrance.

“You look good,” Waverly told her. And it was true. Dressed in her normal clothes, Vivian seemed like her old self again.

“Thank you.” Vivian slowly stood, straightening her spine and smiling. “Now let's get out of here.”

As Aunt Lou slowly maneuvered her car through the island traffic, making her way across the bridge and back into Vineyard Haven, she and Vivian chatted amiably in the front seat, discussing the weather and shopping in Boston, and acting as if nothing whatsoever was wrong. Meanwhile, in the backseat, Waverly felt like she was watching a movie where two actors were giving a somewhat believable performance.

“So, Waverly, what are
you
wearing to the party tonight?” Vivian asked as she turned onto Main Street.

“I have no idea at the moment.”

“Well, Janice found this scrumptious little coral red dress,” Aunt Lou said. “I can't understand how that girl can wear those vibrant colors. Must be her dark hair and dramatic features. But the dress looks magnificent on her. Of course, it was some fancy-schmancy designer name and costly,
oh, my word!
It's a good thing that girl is an attorney. She has such expensive taste.”

“Well, here you are.” Aunt Lou pulled the car in front of The Gallery.

“I hope you have an enjoyable evening,” Vivian said. “And please, don't forget your promise to me, Waverly.”

Waverly had tried to forget her mother's command that she go to the party with Reggie and come home with Blake. Like that was an easy achievement, even if someone like Janice was not involved. “I can't guarantee anything, Vivian, but I promise to do my best.” Waverly leaned over the seat, kissing her mother on the cheek. “I'll let you know how it goes, okay?”

“Perfect.”

“Love you,” Waverly called as she got out. “Both of you.”

They waved and Waverly went into the arcade, which was surprisingly busy for this time of day, though it was a Friday. She studied the freshly painted walls and the mural, which looked even better than she remembered.

“How's it going?” Waverly asked Rosie and Zach. After Zach had finished with the painting, he'd complained about a lack of summer work on the island this year. So Waverly had offered him a job working in the arcade. To her delight, he'd happily accepted, and tonight Rosie was training him.

“It's going great,” Zach assured her. “So far so good.”

Rosie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, the night is young.”

Then Waverly went on up to her apartment and headed straight for the shower and a scrub brush to clean out the paint from her fingernails. Reggie was supposed to pick her up at seven, and that meant she had only thirty minutes to pull off a Cinderella act. As she scrubbed, she tried to make a decision on what to wear. It had been a fairly warm day and didn't seem to be cooling off much. Before she'd heard that Janice was dressing to the nines, she'd considered wearing something a little more casual. Now she didn't know. Parties like this were way out of her league.

Finally she decided on a summery dress she'd purchased in Chicago, something she'd imagined wearing on a warm summer night when the art gallery was having some special showing. The bodice was fitted with spaghetti straps that crossed in back, and the flowing skirt with an asymmetrical hemline was constructed of layers of hand-dyed gauze in shades of blues and greens. The dress had reminded her of the ocean when she'd first spotted it in the exclusive shop window. The salesgirl had commented on how the colors were similar to Waverly's eyes, then shown her a pair of pale aqua espadrille sandals that went perfectly with it. The dress had been a splurge for Waverly then, but she was thankful to have it now.

As she checked her image in the mirror, she realized she'd probably look beachy compared to what Janice would be wearing tonight. This was only a sundress, but it felt feminine and fun, and by the time she had her still damp hair pinned in a loose updo and had added the pearls her grandmother had given her for a wedding present, she did feel a bit like Cinderella! Though when she went down to wait for Reggie, she noticed she still had some paint under her fingernails.

Sicily scowled at Blake. “Your outfit does not go with Janice's, Dad. Not even close.”

“Huh?” He studied his daughter—from her purple-streaked hair, orange T-shirt with some unidentifiable cartoon character, faded jeans cutoffs, down to her fluorescent green flip-flops—and she was giving him fashion advice? “What makes you think that?”

“Cuz I went over there while you were in the shower.”

“Why?”

“I went to see Vivian.”

“Oh, you should probably let her rest and get—”

“No, Dad. She was happy to see me. And I took her a seashell bouquet.”

“A seashell bouquet?” He combed his wet hair, attempting to smooth the natural waves and reminding himself he was overdue for a haircut.

“Yeah, it was an idea Waverly and I got on the beach one day—you take seashells and glue them on top of sticks, then arrange them in a vase and you have a seashell bouquet.”

“And you made one for Vivian?”

“I'd already started on one, but I decided to give it to Vivian today. You know, for a get-well present.” She smiled. “Vivian thought it was beautiful.”

“You're a very thoughtful girl, Sicily.” He ran his hand over the top of her head. “You make me proud to be your dad.”

“Anyway, when I was over there Janice showed me what she was going to wear tonight. It was really sparkly and swanky. You know, pretty uptown.”

“Oh.” Once again he questioned the whole idea of escorting Janice to this party tonight. What had they all been thinking?

“I mean, what you're wearing—it's nice and everything, but it won't go with what Janice is gonna wear.”

He looked down at his clean white crew shirt and neatly pressed khakis. “Don't forget I'll put my navy sports jacket over this. That'll spiff me up, don't you think?”

She shook her head. “That won't cut it, Dad.”

“Really?” Now he went over to the mirror on his closet door and studied himself closely. “You know, when I asked Reggie what the dress was for the party, this is pretty much what he told me.” He turned and smiled expectantly at her.

“Does Reggie even like you?”

“Huh?”

“Well, there's this thing that girls sometimes do—you know, like if they don't like someone.”

“What are you saying?”

“It's usually mean girls who do stuff like this. They'll tell a girl to wear something that's totally wrong—like they know it's a formal party but they tell the girl they don't like that it's a pool party, so she'll show up in a bikini, when everyone else is dressed to the nines. Just to embarrass her.”

“Wow, that is mean. Did that ever happen to you?”

“No, Dad. But maybe that's what Reggie did to you.”

Blake laughed. “Oh, I don't think so. I'm guessing Reggie is more grown up than that by now.”