The Tea Shop on Lavender Lane (Life in Icicle Falls) (21 page)

“Crap,” Samantha muttered.

“What?” Cecily asked.

Now their mother came out from the great room. “Cecily, darling, you look lovely,” she greeted her daughter, giving Cecily a kiss on the cheek. “And how sweet. You and Bailey decided to dress alike.”

Before Cecily could say anything, Bailey appeared, bearing a platter of prosciutto-wrapped dates and wearing the exact same dress. She stopped short and blinked in surprise, then blushed.

Oh, no. Seriously? If Cecily’s friend Ella had still been running the shop, this never would have happened. Cecily could feel her smile tipping down at the edges.

“I’ll change,” Bailey said.

“Don’t bother,” Cecily told her, trying her best not to sound snippy. The effort failed.

What the heck? They could pretend they were in middle school again, when Bailey had made a habit of copying her style. As the middle daughter, she’d been trying to establish her own identity, and it had been a constant source of aggravation every time her younger sister came home with the same color top or brand of jeans.

But they were beyond that now. Now her sister went after her man.

The best present she could give her mother would be not to pull every long, curly hair from Bailey’s head, so she turned to Samantha and asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Help us get the food on the table,” Samantha said.

Cecily nodded and followed Bailey back into the kitchen, where she’d laid out several platters of appetizers. Here her sister’s creative genius was on beautiful display—phyllo cups with some sort of cream cheese filling, veggies and a curry dip, stuffed mushrooms and mini quiches, all beautifully garnished. And on the kitchen table was the birthday cake, no doubt carrot cake, which was their mother’s favorite. It sat on a cut-glass pedestal plate and was decorated with delicate orange slices. Next to it sat two trays of cookies with dabs of chocolate frosting or dusted with powdered sugar.

Bailey had really outdone herself, and even though she was still on Cecily’s most unwanted list, Cecily couldn’t help being impressed.

“Are you still mad at me?” Bailey asked in a small voice.

Their mother’s birthday party was hardly the arena for a catfight. “Let’s not talk about it now,” Cecily said.

She picked up a couple of platters and left for the dining room, where her mother and Samantha were talking in low voices. They fell silent at the sight of her, and Mom asked Samantha, “Which plates do you want to use, dear?”

Great. They’d been talking about her. “Setting up for your own birthday party?” Cecily teased, pretending she hadn’t noticed.

“There’s no stopping her,” Samantha said.

“As if there’s anything left to do,” Mom said. “You girls are far too efficient.”

“We learned from the best,” Cecily said and kissed her on the cheek.

Bailey came out with two more platters and placed them on the table, then scurried back into the kitchen.

Their little sister was normally the chattiest of them all. Anyone, especially a mother, could tell that something was wrong, so it was hardly surprising to see a thoughtful frown appear on Mom’s face.

Cecily returned to the kitchen, where Bailey was making their mother’s favorite punch, a sweet concoction of lemonade, orange sherbet and lime soda. “I’d appreciate it if you’d drop the martyr act,” Cecily said in a low voice.

“I’m not acting like a martyr,” Bailey protested, scowling as she scooped the last of the sherbet into the punch bowl.

“Yes, you are, and you’ve got no reason to. You’re the one who...”
Caused all this trouble.
She bit her lip. She was
not
going there, not on their mother’s birthday.

Bailey set aside the scoop and the empty sherbet container. “I’m the one who what?” she demanded.

The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the first guests. It was time to act like grown-ups. “Never mind.” Cecily picked up the punch bowl to take it out.

“I can do it,” Bailey said in a huffy voice and grabbed it back.

That was a mistake. The sea of calories inside the big glass bowl sloshed up over the edge, spilling onto her.

She let out a yelp as the wave of punch drenched the front of her dress. This was followed by a hybrid sound of disgust that came out as “Eeewk.” She set down the punch bowl and looked forlornly at her sopping bodice. Then she glared at Cecily. “You did that on purpose.”

“Who grabbed the punch bowl?” Cecily retorted.

Now their mother and sister entered the kitchen, followed by Mom’s friend Dot Morrison.

“Is everything all right?” Mom asked.

“My dress,” Bailey wailed as if the copycat garment had been ruined for life.

“It wasn’t your color anyway, kiddo,” Dot said.

“I’ll go change,” Bailey muttered, making an attempt at dignity, and flounced out of the kitchen.

“That kid always was a klutz,” Dot said after she was gone.

Cecily decided not to enlighten Dot as to the real reason for the spill. She tried to wipe the bitchy smile off her face as she deposited the punch on the dining room table, but it kept sneaking back.

Fortunately, more guests were arriving, so bitchy was easily mistaken for friendly. After bringing out the coffee, Cecily helped Samantha collect sweaters and purses and piled presents on the coffee table. As the guests settled in, she delivered punch and fetched coffee and generally made herself useful.

Bailey came back downstairs wearing white capris and a green blouse that accented her chestnut hair. As Dot had implied, it was a much more flattering color for her than what she’d been wearing. If they’d been on better terms, Cecily would have pointed that out. Of course, if they’d been on better terms, Bailey would never have wound up wearing orange sherbet punch in the first place.

She, too, started mingling, taking presents, offering punch and coffee, but keeping as far from Cecily as possible.

Meanwhile, their mother chatted with her friends, accepted a birthday kiss on the cheek from Arnie Amundsen, her longtime admirer, and watched her two feuding daughters. Gracious as always, she opened presents and gushed over each one. She raved over Bailey’s carrot orange cake and bragged about Cecily’s creativity after the “This is your life” DVD Cecily had put together from old pictures and home movies. Finally, she smiled and hugged each departing guest.

But when Cecily tried to escape, Mom said, “Stay another minute, darling. I want to talk to you.”

Uh-oh, Cecily thought.

“Samantha, would you ask Bailey if she could join us?”

There was no hiding from a motherly lecture, not even in the kitchen.

“Okay,” Samantha said. “Then I think baby and I will go have another piece of cake.” She sent Cecily a look that said
good luck,
then disappeared into the kitchen, and Cecily sat down on the couch, bracing herself for what was to come.

A moment later Bailey entered the living room, clearly chagrined. She, too, knew what was coming. She sat down on the far end of the couch from Cecily. “Did you enjoy your party?” she asked Mom.

Ah, the old distraction technique. It wouldn’t work, but Cecily admired the effort.

Now their mother looked at them with the
I’m so disappointed
expression that had worked so well ever since they were small. “This is not like my girls.”

There was no point in pretending they didn’t know what she was talking about. Cecily found it difficult to look her mother in the eye and wound up staring at her lap instead. The view of her pink floral dress wasn’t any better. It only served to remind her of her earlier childish reaction to Bailey’s dress.

“Would you like to tell me what’s going on?” Mom asked quietly.

Actually, no. It was all so painful and humiliating. Cecily glanced over at Bailey, who was gnawing her lip and obviously not planning to volunteer any information.

How to explain this to their mother without sounding as if she were thirteen?

“This has something to do with a man,” Muriel said. It wasn’t a question.

“Mama, how did you know?” Bailey asked in astonishment.

The frosty incident at the front door had to be a big tip-off.

“I asked your sister, and she told me you two were having a misunderstanding.”

There was an epic understatement.

“It wasn’t too difficult to figure out what kind of misunderstanding. There’s nothing else that could come between sisters,” their mother said. “Love is a strong emotion. It pulls out the best in us and the worst.”

Cecily knew what it had pulled out in her. Bailey squirmed down on her end of the couch.

“You’re not the first women to fight over a man,” Mom said gently. “You know, Pat Wilder and I nearly lost our friendship over one.”

“You, Mama?” Bailey asked, sounding as shocked as Cecily felt.

It was hard to imagine their mother, sweet-tempered and kind, fighting with anyone.

“It was over your father. We both wanted him.”

“How did you resolve that?” Cecily asked. When it came right down to it, she didn’t want to lose her sister. But she didn’t want to lose her man, either.

“It resolved itself,” Mom said simply. “And it will with you girls, too. One of you will get the man and one of you won’t. But whichever one of you doesn’t, you’re going to have to trust that the right one for you is still making his way to you. You’re both lovely girls, and I know you’ll both find someone who’s right for you, so there’s no need to break a lifetime bond over this person.”

But what about that feeling of betrayal? “What if it’s more than that?” Cecily asked.

“You need to work it out,” her mother said firmly. “Don’t let your love life ruin your family life. Men will come and go, but sisters are forever. Now I’m going to visit with Samantha so you two can have some privacy.”

Yes, they were back full circle to childhood.
You girls go to your room, and don’t come down until you’re friends again.

Their mother left, and an uncomfortable silence settled on the room.

Bailey was the first to break it. “What are we going to do?”

“Arm wrestle for him,” Cecily said with a faint smile. Except this wasn’t funny. “You know, it’s not just about who gets Todd. It’s about the way you set out to undermine my relationship with him from the start.”

“No,” Bailey corrected her. “It’s about the way you accused me of doing that.”

Okay, they were going to talk in circles. The old
go to your room
method of conflict resolution wasn’t going to work this time. “Fine,” Cecily said stiffly, getting up from the couch.

“Where are you going?” Bailey demanded.

“Home.”

“Mom wants us to work this out.”

“Mom isn’t the one who has to deal with you,” Cecily retorted. She collected her purse from the kitchen, then went to where her mother and Samantha sat in the family room and said goodbye.

“Are you girls okay?” Mom asked after Cecily had kissed her.

“We will be,” Cecily assured her. But it was going to take more than a conversation on the couch. “Happy birthday.”

“It is, now that you girls have made up,” Mom said.

Cecily left her mother in happy ignorance. As she passed the living room on her way out the door, she saw that Bailey had abandoned the couch. She was probably upstairs, pouting in the future nursery, where she’d been sleeping. How appropriate: the baby of the family was in the nursery, acting like a baby.

Cecily remembered what a spoiled brat her sister had been as a preschooler, always carrying on until she got her way.
Well, not this time, baby sister. Not this time.

Chapter Seventeen

C
ecily had a lot to think about. Such serious thinking required the aid of mint chocolate chip ice cream, so she stopped by Safeway on her way home.

She was standing in front of the freezer, trying to decide if Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia would be a better choice, when a little girl called her name from the end of the aisle. She turned to see Serena Goodman, dolled up in pink shorts and a Hello Kitty top, skipping toward her, Luke walking behind carrying a produce container of strawberries and a head of lettuce.

“Hi, Miss Cecily,” Serena greeted her. “I learned how to skip. See?” She skipped in a circle to demonstrate, her blond curls bobbing.

“That’s impressive,” Cecily said. “Who taught you that?”

“My daddy,” Serena said as Luke joined them.

Cecily couldn’t help smiling at the image of Luke Goodman, gentle giant, skipping down the sidewalk next to his daughter.

“I’m a man of many talents,” he said. “How was your mom’s birthday party?” he asked as Serena practiced her new skill.

“I think she had a good time,” Cecily said. “The entire older generation of Icicle Falls showed up.”

“No surprise. Everyone loves Muriel.” He studied her. “You’ve been planning this for two weeks. Shouldn’t you be looking more pleased with yourself?”

How had he seen past the pleasant face she’d put on? “I
am
pleased with myself,” she lied.

“And that’s why you’re standing in front of the ice cream.”

“You’ve seen too many movies,” she said. “Not every woman gets depressed and dives into the ice cream.”

“My wife’s choice was always Rocky Road,” he said, refusing to be fooled. “So, what’s wrong?”

“My sister,” she blurted.

“Bailey?”

“I have two sisters. What makes you think it’s her?”

“Educated guess. Am I right?”

“I love her dearly,” Cecily began. It was true. She did. Maybe that was why she felt so angry, so betrayed.

“But?” he prompted.

“But we’re having...some problems.”

Serena was back now. “Daddy, are we getting ice cream?”

“Not today, princess. We’re going to help Miss Cecily pick some out, though. What kind should she get, chocolate or vanilla?”

“Chocolate!” Serena crowed.

“How about mint chocolate chip?” Cecily said, and Serena nodded enthusiastically. “Do you want to come over to my house and help eat it?” It seemed only right to offer.

“Can we, Daddy?”

“Sure,” Luke said, smiling at Cecily.

She found herself smiling back. After her turbulent weekend, running into Luke was the equivalent of surviving a shipwreck and discovering a warm, sandy beach with a restaurant that served piña coladas.

They followed her back to the condo. Luke sat on a barstool at the kitchen counter while Serena joined Cecily, watching eagerly as she got out bowls and spoons and dished up the ice cream.

“You can take that one to your daddy,” Cecily said, handing Serena the bowl with the biggest helping.

Serena nodded knowingly. “Daddy always gets the biggest bowl.”

“That’s something my mom does,” Luke explained, his face turning red.

“My mom always did that with my dad,” Cecily said.

Her parents had enjoyed a happy marriage. All her life, she’d assumed she’d follow in their footsteps. So far those footsteps were proving hard to find.

She gave Serena her ice cream, and the child climbed up on a stool next to her father and dug in. There they sat, a family in waiting, the family she could have if she chose Luke and let Bailey have Todd.

“Your ice cream’s melting,” he said.

She blinked.

“Where were you?”

She shook her head. “Nowhere. Just thinking.”

“Yeah? About what?”

She busied herself with putting away the ice cream container. “Why can’t love be easy?”

“Who says it can’t? All you need is to be with the right person.” Now he sounded like her mother.

“I love my daddy,” Serena said around a mouthful of ice cream.

“Your daddy’s a very special man.”

Who was she talking to, Serena or herself? Serena, of course, but she shouldn’t have said that. It was completely inappropriate, considering the fact that she was with Todd. In theory, anyway.

No, not just in theory. They
should
be together. They’d been moving in that direction for the past two years. They were meant to be together.

And yet Luke looked so right sitting at her kitchen counter....

“It’ll work out,” he said.

Was he reading her mind?

“Whatever’s going on with you and Bailey,” he added, even though they both knew she was no longer talking about Bailey.

“It will,” she agreed. Like Mom had said, the situation would resolve itself. But what if it didn’t resolve in the way she hoped? She set aside her bowl of ice cream. It wasn’t helping.

* * *

“You must have had to go pick the strawberries,” Bernadette Goodman teased her son when he dropped off the items he’d bought for her at the store.

“Got sidetracked,” he said, hoping to leave it at that.

“We had ice cream with Miss Cecily,” Serena piped up.

“You did?” his mom said to Serena as she looked at him.

“Don’t get excited, Mom. It was no big deal.” He sure wished it could be the beginning of a big deal, though. There had to be some way he could get her to see that falling from friendship into love made for a nice, soft landing.

Serena wandered off to the spare room, which his mother had turned into a playroom for her, and Bernadette took advantage of her departure to launch into a motherly lecture. “Maybe not, but it opened the door. If you don’t get a little more aggressive, some other man is going to steal her away right from under your nose.”

He made a face. “She’s not mine to steal, Ma. And anyway, she’s with Todd Black.”

“Who’s that?” She might as well have said, “Who could possibly be more worthy than my son?”

“He owns The Man Cave.” And if you asked Luke, he sure wasn’t more worthy.

Bernadette frowned. “
That
place.”

Luke shrugged and started for the playroom. “I need to get Serena home.”

“No man ever got the woman he wanted by giving up,” Bernadette called after him.

“Thanks for the advice.” He wasn’t giving up—not really. Still, what did his mom expect him to do, grab Cecily by the hair and haul her back to his place? Damn, if only it were that easy.

* * *

On Monday Devon showed up at the tea shop to paint the outside trim and ended up getting drafted to help Bailey hang curtains.

“Oh, yes,” she said as they surveyed their work. “Those antique white curtain rods were a good choice. They look exactly as I’d imagined they would with the curtains.”

“They’re sure...lacy,” Devon said.

She giggled. “That’s the idea. Our clientele is going to be women.”

He nodded. “Yeah, chicks will love this place.”

“I hope so. I want it to do well. I want this to be a solid investment for your brother.” Although lately she’d been wondering if it would’ve been better if they’d never met. Then her sister would still be speaking to her. She’d still be working at the Icicle Creek Lodge, happily cooking breakfast for the guests. That would have been a good life.

Not as good as having a tea shop and making fancy treats and cute little tea cakes, though. But the situation had taken an ugly turn, and now it seemed as if every happy moment was salted with some unhappy thought.

“Hey, you worried?” Devon asked.

“What? No. Everything’s great.”

“It’s gonna be,” he said. “My brother’s smart when it comes to business.” He studied her a moment. “Not always so smart when it comes to...other things.”

She got the message loud and clear.
Don’t count on him for love.

Well, she wasn’t going to. He wasn’t hers to count on, and she was going to lose these inappropriate feelings. She concentrated on a mental image of grabbing a fistful of little pink hearts with the initials B.S. + T.B. and dumping them in a giant chintz teapot.
There. All gone.

If only it were that easy.

“Well, I’d better go outside and start on that trim before my brother gets here and chews my ass off for not working.”

“Hanging curtains is work, too,” Bailey assured him.

“No, that was fun,” he said, flashing her a killer smile.

She wished she could fall in love with Devon. A brother for each sister; that would solve everything. Why couldn’t love be simple? A couple of the little hearts tried to climb out of the teapot, and she pushed them back in.
Now, stay there!

* * *

The chairs and tables for the tearoom were being delivered, and his brother had most of the trim done when Todd arrived at Tea Time. Bailey had decided on lavender, and it had been the right choice. It pulled everything together.

“Lookin’ good,” he said to Devon.

Devon grinned. “Hey, I do good work.”

“And fast.”

“Gotta get this done. I’ve got an interview with Dan Masters later this afternoon. Thanks for putting in a word for me.”

“No problem.” It had taken only a couple of minutes this morning, and Todd had been glad to do it. Maybe this town was what his brother needed to pull his life together.

He hoped one of them could.

He went inside just as the delivery guys were going out the door, leaving behind the furniture equivalent of a logjam. “Can’t you set the tables over there?” Bailey was pleading.

“Sorry, lady. Not in our job description,” said one of the men. He looked big enough to lift an entire table with one finger.

Jerk,
Todd thought. “Hey, not to worry,” he told Bailey. “I’m here.”

The way her face lit up at the sight of him hit him like a shot of tequila. Was he developing a split personality, each one pursuing a different sister? Oh, man. He was in deep shit.

He began moving chairs. Anything to keep from dealing with this.

* * *

“Now it really looks like something in here,” Bailey said after she and Todd had set the last table by one of the front windows.

It did. With the tables and chairs in place and the curtains on the windows, the dream was coming to life.

“I can hardly wait until we have people in here,” she said.

He surveyed the room and nodded. “Come August, this place will be packed.”

“It’s like waiting to have a baby,” she said.

“I think starting a business is easier.”

“Me, too,” she agreed. “But you know what I mean. It’s exciting to start something new. After all the budgeting, the planning and the work, now we can see it coming together.”

“You’re a born entrepreneur,” he said, and the admiration in his voice warmed her heart.

Simmer down,
she told herself.
Concentrate on the business.
“I am excited to be working on my own dreams instead of for someone else.”

She’d enjoyed planning her menu, poring over countless restaurant supply websites with Todd and choosing her cooking utensils and cutlery and glassware. It had been serious work but at the same time fun, with him cracking jokes and making her laugh.

There was nothing wrong with having fun. It proved you worked well together.

But that was all this was going to be. Work. She wasn’t going to steal Todd. Still, she couldn’t help remembering how good it had felt when he’d put his arm around her during their impromptu ice fight, and her thoughts did like to sneak off, wondering how it would feel to kiss him. Darn. Where was that giant teapot when you needed it?

He gave her an elbow nudge. “Hey, where are you?”

“Just thinking.”
About you and me and what could have been but won’t.
“About how great our tea shop is going to be.”

He nodded. “It’s the second biggest buzz in the world, starting a new business.”

“What’s the first biggest?”

“I’m a guy. Can’t you guess?”

Oh, yes, and guessing sent a guilty flush to her face.

He grinned and shook his head. “You know, that’s one of the things I like about you. You’re such an innocent.”

“I’m not that innocent,” she protested, and that made him laugh.

But then the laughing stopped and the expression on his face changed to something more serious. She turned a little more in his direction; he moved a little closer to her. He looked at her lips and moved closer still.

Her mother had said things would work out, that she and Cecily would both end up with the man they were supposed to be with. Couldn’t
he
be the man she was meant to be with? It would be so easy to kiss Todd right now. Everything in her wanted to.

“Hey, I’m done with the trim,” Devon called, poking his head in the door. “Am I interrupting something?”

Face flaming, she took a step back, and Todd frowned and did the same.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Uh, no.” To Bailey he said, “If you don’t need any more help here, I’d better get going. I need to pick up some stuff for the Cave.”

“I’m good,” she said. Boy, was she, considering what she could have just done.

* * *

“I’ve gotten in some messes with women,” Devon said, falling into step with Todd as he hurried down the walkway, “but you’re out-messing ’em all.”

As if he needed his brother to tell him that? “Did you say you have to be somewhere?”

Devon held up both hands. “Just sayin’.”

“I already know,” Todd growled.

“That Bailey’s pretty nice. If you’re not gonna be with her...”

Todd whipped around to face him. “No.”

Both his brother’s eyebrows went up. “So, that’s how it is.”

“I don’t know how it is,” Todd snapped.

Devon chuckled. “Man, have you got it bad, you poor slob. Glad I’m not you.” He picked up his empty paint bucket. “I’ll get this cleaned up.”

“Good idea,” Todd said grumpily. He had some cleaning up to do, too.

* * *

Cecily had barely gotten home from work when she heard the sound of a motorcycle pulling into her parking lot. Todd. He was back, coming to make up.

She was more than ready. They’d forget all those missteps they’d taken recently and move on from here.