It was true; Ivy had been too weary to sit in her usual place at the vanity, so she’d propped herself up in bed against the pillows. Zoey had brought the rollers and brush to her and when Ivy was finished, Zoey returned the brush to the vanity table. She distinctly remembered because she had to put it back before she turned off the lamp beside Ivy’s bed, otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to see what she was doing. By the time she’d set the item in its place and crossed the room to the nightstand, Ivy was already sleeping.
“I’m sure it will turn up somewhere. I’ll get mine for you.”
She was halfway down the hall when Mark opened the bathroom door and stepped out. “Hey, Zo. Is breakfast ready yet? I’m starving.”
You. Have. So. Much. Gall.Zoey thought, but she ignored his question and asked her own. “Have you seen a brush in there? It’s got a blue handle.”
He reached back into the bathroom and produced the brush. “Is this it? ’Cause I don’t think it’s sturdy enough to get through those snarls.”
“It’sAunt Ivy’s.” She grabbed it from him and hurried down the hall.
“Where did you find it?” Ivy asked. When Zoey told her, she said, “I don’t know where my mind is lately. I honestly don’t recall going into the bathroom. I’m starting to think something is wrong with me.”
“You’re just not a morning person,” Zoey assured her, even though for the first time her aunt’s forgetfulness bothered her, too. Not necessarily because she initially didn’t remember using the restroom that morning, but because she still couldn’t remember once she’d been told that’s where she’d left her brush.Yet she had no problem recalling everything that happened last night right before she fell asleep,Zoey thought. She was probably worrying over nothing, but she silently resolved to pay closer attention to her aunt’s short-term memory in the future. For now she said, “Take your time doing your hair and when you come down, I’ll have a cup of coffee waiting for you.”
In the kitchen, she found Nick taking measurements of the cupboards, while Mark leaned against a counter, watching.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, guys. Aunt Ivy hasn’t decided if she even wants to replace the stove, much less do any other renovations,” Zoey warned.
“Oh, sorry,” Nick pushed the button on his measuring tape and it snapped into place. “Mark said—”
“This isn’t Mark’s house.”Not yet, anyway.
“It’s not yours, either,” Mark shot back.
“No joke. That’s why—”
Nick quickly cut in, “I’m happy to do—or not do—whatever your aunt wants. No pressure. We’ll leave it up to her.”
Satisfied, Zoey suggested the men go wait in the formal dining room, where she planned to serve breakfast. The first three omelets she made were warming on a platter in the oven and she was ready to fold the last one when her aunt came in. “That smells good. Where are the boys?”
Zoey motioned toward the dining room. “I thought we’d eat in there.”
“That’s much too formal. Let’s eat here, at the family table.” Ivy peered into the skillet. “Uh-oh, I think the edges of that are browning.”
Zoey smiled; if her aunt was giving her cooking tips, it meant she was feeling a little more like her old self again. She lifted one side of the egg with the spatula and gently folded it over.
“I’ll take care of this so you can go fix your hair,” Ivy offered. Somehow, that hint didn’t seem as insulting when it came from her aunt as when her cousin said it.
Zoey ran upstairs and brushed her hair into a high pony tail, revealing wet marks on her shoulders. She changed her T-shirt again, vaguely aware that she would have left the same one on if Nick wasn’t eating with them. Then she hustled downstairs to tell the men breakfast was ready.
“Good morning, Mrs. Cartwright,” Nick said when he entered the kitchen.
“Good morning, Nicholas. It’s good to see you again. But what did I tell you about calling me Mrs. Cartwright? It makes me feel old. And I’m not old—yet. Am I?”
“Being called Nicholas makes me feel like I’m in trouble. And I’m not in trouble—yet. Am I?”
Both of them laughed; obviously this greeting this was a running joke between them.
“Have you met my great-niece yet?”
“Yes. I’ve had the pleasure—twice.” Nick gave Zoey a sidelong glance and then smiled broadly at Ivy.
Is he trying to charm his way into a major remodel gig?Zoey wondered. She couldn’t let herself forget that Erik had seemed charming at first, too.Andthat Nick was Mark’s friend.
Once everyone was seated and served, Ivy asked Nick how his son, Aidan, was doing in school.
“He’s doing great, thanks, although he’s looking forward to summer, of course. By the way, if you want him to get started on the flowerbeds, he can drop off a load of mulch some time next week. I noticed he’s got a few trees to edge out back, too.” Nick explained to Zoey, “Aidan’s mother and I are divorced. He’d been living with her in Connecticut, but he decided to finish out his last two years of school here on the island. He takes care of Mrs. Cartwright’s—of your aunt’s landscaping and other small projects. We had a mild winter, so he hasn’t had to do it since January, but your aunt lets him start the Cadillac during the colder months to keep it running. Makes me jealous—I’venever been behind the wheel of a Caddy.”
