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“I’m good, Aunt Clare.” She softened her wooden tone with a wide smile. “How are you?”
“We’re doing great, thanks.” Clare eased away and stroked Izzy’s hair back from her face. “But look at you. You look wonderful.”
Molly tugged at Clare’s arm. “You need to meet Flora.”
Izzy saw an almost imperceptible change in Clare’s expression and realized that this was probably awkward for her, too. Izzy’s mom and Clare had been friends forever. Did she feel resentful that Jack was here with another woman?
Clare stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Good to meet you, Flora.” Her tone was so cool and polite that Izzy was taken aback. Clare was normally warm and friendly.
“I so appreciate you inviting me—” Flora broke off, cheeks pink, as if she’d realized that Clare hadn’t in fact invited her, and that she was really only here because of Jack.
“I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.” Clare sounded like a hotel owner greeting a guest who had trashed the room on their previous stay.
Izzy realized she was struggling and knew, right there and then, that she was never going to be able to confide in Aunt Clare. It would be too difficult. Clare had her own feelings to deal with.
No, Izzy was alone with this. She might as well have been shipwrecked on an island.
“You must be exhausted.” Clare led them into the house and suddenly Izzy was standing in front of Aiden. Her heart gave a little kick and her breathing felt weird. She almost made that most annoying of adult observations, you’ve grown, but she stopped herself in time. But he had grown. Had his shoulders always been that wide? No, definitely not. She tried to work out why she felt awkward and realized it was because he seemed more man than boy, a stranger. And then he gave her that funny smile that tilted his mouth more to one side than the other and he was Aiden again.
“Hi.” Deciding they were too old to hug without it seeming weird, she thrust her hands into the pockets of her jeans and grinned back.
He seemed a lot more comfortable with the situation than she was, but he’d always been that way. He didn’t much care what people thought of him. It was a trait she both admired and envied.
“Hey, Fizzy.” He’d given her that name when she’d been going through a phase of wanting fizzy drinks and it had stuck. “Good to see you.”
She wanted to say that it was good to see him, too, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she found it hard to speak. It might have been awkward, but they were saved by the arrival of Chase, who barked loudly and smacked everyone’s legs with his wagging tail.
“Chase.” Molly bent down to hug him and he licked her face and jumped on her.
“Don’t let him lick your face, sweetie. How many times have I told you not to jump!” Clare tugged at his collar. “Sit. Sit, you naughty dog.”
Molly laughed in a way Izzy hadn’t heard her laugh in a long time.
She made a fuss of the dog, too, all the time conscious of Aiden standing close by.
Thoroughly overexcited, Chase ripped himself away from Clare’s restraining hand and leaped at Flora, jumping up and planting muddy paws on her bright orange top.
“Chase!” Clare was appalled and embarrassed. “What a greeting. I’m so very sorry.”
“Oh don’t be. He’s adorable.” Instead of backing off, Flora dropped to her knees and hugged the dog. She was laughing, her eyes closed as Chase took full advantage. “Are you excited to see us? You beautiful, beautiful dog.” She stroked, tickled, made a fuss until Chase almost died of ecstasy.
Her orange top was spattered with muddy paw prints, but Flora didn’t seem to care.
Clare was looking at her oddly. “You like dogs?”
“I love all animals,” Flora said. “I always wanted a pet, but it wasn’t possible.”
Izzy stilled. She’d wanted a pet, too, but her mother had been horrified at the thought. Dogs are fine if you live
in the country, but they need walking, and they leave their hair everywhere—
“Chase was a rescue dog.” Clare gave his collar a little tug. “He was a year when we had him. Believe it or not we did a lot of training, but all that goes out of the window when he sees someone he likes.”
“Can I take him for a walk, Aunt Clare?” Molly was on her knees next to Flora, fussing over the dog.
“He’d love that and frankly so would I, but why don’t you wash your hands and have something to eat first? You’ve had a long journey and airplane food and the time change leaves you feeling strange. Come into the kitchen.” Clare herded them inside. “Are you hungry? I made a stack of ham sandwiches, and the scones are freshly baked. We still have homemade strawberry jam from last summer. Flora, I’m so sorry about your shirt. You’ll probably want to change and freshen up.”
“That would be good, thank you.” Flora grabbed her bag and paused, waiting to be directed.
