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This family was already a total mess, and he was planning on making the mess worse. Izzy wasn’t going to let that happen. She needed to keep this family together, no matter what. For herself, sure, but also for Molly. Molly relied on her, and Izzy wasn’t going to let her sister down.
Her objective wasn’t to make sure Flora liked her, it was to make sure the woman never wanted to set foot in the house again.
3
Flora
It was a relaxed dinner, that was all.
True, she’d changed her outfit three times, but that was because this evening was important. It was important, essential, that his daughters liked her, and she was confident she could make that happen. It helped that she had a pretty good idea of what they were going through. She hoped that, in time, she might even be able to help a little. She’d make it clear that she had no intention of disrupting their family or causing the slightest ripple in their safe, familiar world. Not for one moment did she think she could replace their mother, and she didn’t intend to try. She’d encourage them to think of her more as an older friend.
She imagined Molly, the younger, crawling onto her lap for a hug and Izzy being relieved to finally have someone to share those thoughts and feelings you could only share with another woman. Flora hadn’t had that. Her aunt hadn’t been the hugging type and their conversations had been focused on the practical. Even now Flora found it hard to talk about her feelings and she assumed it was because she’d had no practice. She’d been left to comfort herself, and figure things out for herself. She didn’t want that for Jack’s girls.
Was she jumping ahead of herself? Possibly, but where was the harm in dreaming a little?
Jack.
She thought, maybe, that she was falling in love and the idea terrified and excited her in equal amounts. Was he in love with her? She wasn’t sure, but she knew that if their relationship was going to move to the next level, then his daughters would have to love her, too.
Jack had made it clear they needed to take this slowly and be discreet. She was fine with that, and not just because of the girls. These feelings were new to her, too.
She’d dated occasionally over the past few years. Most notable had been Mr. Hedge Fund Manager who she’d met when she’d made the mistake of enrolling at an early morning yoga class. He’d been told by
his doctor to reduce his stress levels and so had decided on yoga, but hadn’t seemed to realize that Downward Dog wasn’t designed to allow you to take a closer look at your phone. The phone joined them for every date, sitting on the table during dinner like a chaperone. The only hedge she knew anything about was green and needed pruning, and despite her efforts she’d been unable to learn anything that equipped her to have an even vaguely knowledgeable conversation with the man. The relationship had gone downhill faster than the markets. Next had been Ray. Ray was a schoolteacher, passionate about basketball. Flora had endured eight games before he’d complained that she wasn’t “engaged.” She’d been affronted. She was the master at faking interest in something, and in this case she’d done her homework. She’d learned about the chest pass, the bounce pass and the outlet pass. She’d yelled and punched the air when he’d yelled and punched the air. She’d thought she’d mirrored his reactions, but he’d sensed something lacking under her carefully choreographed enthusiasm.
She knew now that what had been lacking was motivation. She hadn’t been motivated to make the relationship work. He’d been right. She hadn’t been engaged. Not with him, not with Mr. Hedge Fund. She’d tried to show interest in what they enjoyed, without revealing her own interests.
But now there was Jack. Smart, handsome, caring Jack. That first coffee had turned into lunch, and they’d started to meet regularly. Their friendship had deepened, warmer feelings creeping up on them stealthily and unannounced. She couldn’t quite remember when she’d first noticed the shift. Was it that day at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden when he’d taken her hand in his? Or their first kiss by the fountain in Central Park?
Flora had never had a relationship that she hadn’t had to work hard at, not with her aunt and not with boyfriends, so it was a revelation to discover that she could be herself with him. Not her whole self of course. There was still plenty he didn’t know about her, feelings she kept tightly packed away in storage inaccessible to all but her. No doubt there was also plenty she didn’t know about him but what she knew, she liked.
He seemed to know something about almost everything, so instead of typing her questions into a search engine she just asked Jack. They visited the Frick Collection and she didn’t bother with an audio guide because she had Jack telling her a little about everything in a way that brought the art to life. Her mother had possessed the same gift and that small connection seemed to pull them closer together like tiny invisible threads. They headed to the Bronx and visited the New York Botanical Garden, a place Flora had often visited with her mother. Here in this lush oasis, among the buds and blooms, she knew more than he did and he questioned her constantly. What was that flower? What climate did that particular tree like? What would she plant in a garden if she had one? He was the first man she’d dated to show an interest in who she was and what she enjoyed. And the interest was mutual. So far, she hadn’t had to take a crash course in any of his interests in order to keep the relationship alive. Jack worked in a senior tech role for a company that specialized in artificial intelligence, and his few attempts to describe what he did had made her eyes cross. Fortunately he didn’t seem to need to talk about his work when they were together and gradually she’d stopped her internet searches on “tech for beginners.”
It wasn’t as if they were short of conversation topics. The only subject off-limits for him was his wife. He talked about her in relation to the children, and how they were coping, but didn’t talk about his own emotions. She’d been sensitive, approaching the topic with the care of someone peeling the bandage from an open wound, but he’d shut her down gently and eventually she’d stopped asking. She respected the fact that there were things he didn’t want to talk about. She was the same.
But now she was about to meet his daughters and they, of course, were his biggest interest.
They’d talked about it just the day before, sitting close together on their favorite bench in the park. She never would have thought she could have experienced heart-racing, dizzy, romantic feelings in a park, but it turned out that it wasn’t where you were that mattered, it was who you were with. Whenever she was with Jack, the rest of the world vanished for her.
Physically it was all very low-key of course. Interlocked fingers, the hard pressure of his thigh against hers. It wasn’t much, but it seemed to be more than enough to send her brain and body into meltdown. She was so aware of him, her response vastly out of proportion to the limited, restrained contact they’d had. It made her feel better to know she had the same effect on him. She felt his tension, and saw the occasional flash of heat in his gaze. It wasn’t coincidence that they always met in public places. It was an unspoken acknowledgment that the only way to take this slowly was to impose certain restrictions on themselves.
“Are you nervous of meeting them?” He’d asked the question as they’d sat there, close together.
“The girls? A little.” She hadn’t wanted to lie to him. “I’m also excited. From what you’ve told me, they’re smart, interesting, special people.” And she loved the way he talked about them with such pride. It said a lot about his character that he was such an engaged father. She hoped his children knew how lucky they were.
What scared her most, if she was honest, wasn’t his girls, it was how much she wanted this relationship to work.
“You’re incredible, do you know that?” He’d taken her hand and pressed it to his thigh, making it hard for her to focus on the conversation.
“Me?”
“It would be too much for most people. Dating a man with two kids. Most people would run away from a ready-made family, but you’re so open and optimistic about everything.”
She wouldn’t have described herself as open. She was careful. Cautious. Protective of herself. But with Jack it was different.
Because she badly didn’t want this to end, she’d already quizzed him in-depth. She knew that Izzy wanted to be a journalist, and that Molly had loved to draw and dance, although she’d stopped both after Becca had died. Flora loved to draw and paint, too, so she was hoping that maybe, if she was careful, she might be able to persuade Molly to draw with her. Still, she knew she had to be careful not to push things. The pressure from her aunt to “get over it and move on” had stressed her enormously.
Shaking off the past, Flora paused at the end of the street clutching flowers and a bottle of homemade lemonade. Jack had said his daughter was making dinner, and Flora figured lemonade went with pretty much everything.
