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On the porch were her parents, Linda and Mitch. Ivy couldn’t believe it, but they were actually hanging Christmas lights! They practically jumped off the porch to embrace her before she was barely out of the car. Ivy’s parents made sixty look young. Mitch was an English professor at Hobart and William Smith, and he always said that teaching college students kept him perennially youthful. Linda owned a Christmas boutique in town—the kind that was open year-round. It was no wonder Ivy loved Christmas so much—it was baked into her DNA.
“Ivy! You’re here,” Mitch exclaimed.
“So good to see you!” Linda smiled. Ivy handed her mother the beautiful bouquet. Linda’s face lit up. “My favorite. You remembered.”
“Of course. And this is for you, Dad.” Ivy handed him the bag of scones.
Mitch opened the bag of scones and immediately began eating. “These are great. Your mother has me on a low-carb diet, and I haven’t had one of these in months.”
“Don’t get used to them,” Linda joked.
Ivy loved the fact that her parents were still so in love. They were the couple to which she had always aspired. Too bad she hadn’t found that special someone.What about Drew?she thought.That became complicated fast. Was it work? Love?But if she were honest with herself, she had already found that other half, her soulmate, in Nick, and she had thrown it all away.
“Hey, big sister,” Carol greeted her. She was Ivy’s baby sister, four years younger. Carol looked like the graduate student that she was in old jeans and a T-shirt. Ivy was dressing more upscale. She hugged Carol.
“So good to see everyone.” Ivy smiled.
Linda looked at her. “I can’t believe you’re actually home. It’s been, like, what…”
“Five years,” Ivy confirmed.
“All it took was having a movie filmed in her hometown to bring her back,” Carol cracked.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you over the past five years,” Ivy said defensively.
“Honey, it’s okay. We’re just happy you’re home. Wait until you see all the changes we’ve made to the house,” Mitch said.
“Great. I should get unpacked. I want to check out the production office,” she said excitedly.
“Of course. Let me help you with your stuff,” Mitch said as he finished the scone and licked his fingers. He opened the bag to take another one, but Linda pulled it away from him. He laughed.
Ivy walked into the house. She noticed that the old wallpaper had been removed from the dining room and the walls were now a light-blue color. The kitchen cabinets had been painted white and the kitchen looked much brighter. In fact, all the rooms looked like they’d been updated—at least slightly. But when she got to her bedroom, it was as if time had stood still. She dropped her suitcase and sat on her bed. It was the same pink bedspread from her childhood. Dance trophies on her dresser. The walls were covered with photos from high school. Ivy singing in a high school musical. She looked closer. There were too many photos of Nick taped to the walls. She grimaced. She began taking down the photos and tossing them in the trash can. Carol entered the room and made herself comfortable on the bed.
“I told Mom she should take down those old photos of Nick, but she wanted to respect your space,” Carol said.
“Classic Mom. But you’re right. They should have been taken down and burned up.” Ivy smiled. “I hear that’s the way to get rid of bad karma.”
“Karma’s a bitch,” Carol said.
Ivy unpacked her script and laptop and put it on her childhood desk. She set up a workspace in case she needed to rewrite some scenes. Carol picked up the script. Flipped through the pages. She paused to read the ending. “Very interesting. I see you kill Nick at the end of the movie.”
“It’s not Nick. The character of Rick is an amalgam of everyone I dated,” Ivy protested.
“Give me a break. You changed one letter. Who are we kidding, Ivy? Of course this movie is about you and Nick. Classic Freudian slip.”
“Just because you’re getting a master’s in psych doesn’t mean you can assume everything is psychological.”
“Isn’t it?”
The two sisters laughed, albeit a bit awkwardly. Ivy and Carol had never been as close as they should have. Ivy blamed the four-year gap in their ages. But to be honest it was probably because she’d always spent so much time with Nick. He’d been her best friend since they were eight years old. All the time she’d spent with him crowded out the bonding time she should have had with her sister. Now she felt bad about it, wishing they were better friends but thinking it was too late.
“Where’s your new boyfriend? Dad said you were dating the producer,” Carol probed.
“We thought it would be better if he stayed at the Belhurst Castle with the actors—in case they need anything.”
“And…”
“And nothing,” Ivy insisted.
