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Charlotte stared at the pile of envelopes in her hand, and a feeling of dread washed over her. She knew that some of those letters would contain bills for supplies and services she had used for her business, but the weight of them felt like more than she could handle.
She took them back to the table where she and Ivy had decorated the letter and went through them individually. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach with each passing letter. The amount she owed far exceeded her current funds. How was she going to make money to pay all those bills?
CHAPTERSIX
As Bastien exited the shop, he noticed Rachel perched on a wooden bench out front. She had her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed, deep in thought. “You ready?”
She slowly raised her head, her eyes meeting his. Her mouth became a thin line. “As I’ll ever be,” she said in a low voice, full of resignation.
They headed over to the SUV.
“I want to sit in the front,” Ivy pleaded.
He glanced over at Rachel as if expecting her to say something, but she just sighed and got in the back seat.
He scratched the back of his neck and glanced around before gazing down at the hopeful face of his niece. He knew the rules, knew he was breaking them, but he couldn’t find the words to refuse her. “Okay,” he said with a sigh, “you can ride shotgun, but just this time.”
Ivy cheered and clapped her hands. He shifted her booster to the front seat and helped her buckle up to make sure she was secure, then went around and got into the driver’s seat.
A press of the ignition button brought the car to a murmuring start. Too bad everything didn’t run so smoothly or quietly. They headed down Main Street, making their way to the highway that would take them to Galveston.
“So, what’s the game plan?” Rachel questioned.
“Right now, I plan to pick up my mom from the airport. I have nothing else planned after that. I’m just taking it one moment at a time.” He looked up at Rachel in the rearview mirror. “And what about you? What’s in store for you?” He wanted to know if she was considering extending their agreement. “Will you stay as Ivy’s helper?”
“Can I let you know shortly?”
“Of course.” He hadn’t considered how much Chloe’s death could have affected her. She had to be as saddened by it as anyone else. “I’m sorry for your loss, too.” She nodded silently in response before turning away and leaning against the car door.
The further they got from Willow Bay, the more his mind drifted to the conversation he’d had with Chloe the day she died—was that only yesterday? She looked frail and tired, but her eyes were sharp and wise. “There is no other choice. Promise me, Bastien,” she had said. “If you do nothing else for me, promise me you’ll raise Ivy.” He had promised Chloe he’d watch over Ivy, but it was hard to know how to be a good father figure when he had never had one.
He kept his eyes on the road and his thoughts on that promise. He had to be strong for Ivy, no matter what happened. He wanted her to have the childhood he and Chloe never had. He wanted Ivy to be happy and feel appreciated and loved.
Even if it was the scariest thing he had ever done, he was determined to be a good guardian for Ivy. He reached over and squeezed her little hand. He knew that as long as he kept this promise to Chloe, everything would work out in the end, and he prayed it would.
His phone rang, and his mother’s name came on the screen. Bastien glanced at the car’s dashboard, over the bright display of the clock. His eyes widened as he read the time—it was ten minutes before his mother was due to arrive. He swallowed hard, lifting the phone to his ear, and speaking into it with a strained voice. “Hey, Mom,” he said, with an edge of apprehension. “Did you get here early?”
A deep exhale left his mother’s lips. “I did,” she said, her voice laden with frustration. “But you’re not here. I’ve always told you that early was on time and on time was late.”
With a clenched jaw, he spoke. “Mom, now isn’t the time. I’m dealing with a lot.” He reached over and squeezed Ivy’s hand to reassure her that everything would be alright.
“You’redealing with a lot? My daughter died, and she didn’t even let me say goodbye.” Her voice quivered with unspoken emotion. Her words had a tremor of pain and grief, yet her tone was resolute. It was a reminder that no matter what situation arose, Annette Richmond was a force to be reckoned with, and she refused to be swayed by excuses or denials.
“We’re rounding the corner to the terminal. I’ll pick you up there.” He hung up and glanced at Ivy. He hadn’t noticed it when they left that morning, but now, as he scanned her from head to toe, he realized her ensemble was an eyesore. Her dress was purple and baggy. Her sweater was two sizes too big and a deep shade of brown, and her socks were mismatched—one pink, one blue. He shuddered at the thought of how she must have looked to a passerby, like she had just dressed herself from a lost and found bin at school.
He looked over his shoulder. “Did you pick that outfit for her?”
Rachel laughed. “No, Ivy knows what she likes, and Chloe wanted her to have—”
“Choices.” He understood the concept of “choices,” although he doubted his mother would. As children, they were dressed by stylists. There was no sin greater than embarrassing their mother.
“Ivy, darling. As soon as we pull up to the curb, you’ll have to get into the back seat with Rachel.”
“Okay, Uncle Bast,” she said sweetly.
When they rounded the bend, his mother stood there with an air of superiority, tapping her foot impatiently. She was dressed in a sharp black pantsuit that made her look like she was attending a boardroom meeting, rather than visiting her grief-stricken family. Her Louis Vuitton luggage was lined up beside her, three large pieces of it—how long did she plan on staying? He parked the car, got out, and walked to the passenger door.
“Hello, Mother,” he said, embracing her in a stiff hug.
