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He did his best not to join her in laughing.
“I’m a what?” His mother glared at him. “Is that the language you’re teaching my granddaughter?”
“She’s being observant.” He had to admit that Ivy was right. With her pinched lips and angry eyes, his mother resembled the angry chicken in the picture in the diner. “You look like a poster she saw recently.”
His mother spun around to face the back seat, eyeing Rachel. “Isn’t she young for you?” An odd, guttural noise vibrated in the air. It was unrefined and came as a shock. “You’re just like your father.”
“That’s Ivy’s nanny, mother. Rachel, meet Annette Richmond. Mom, meet Rachel, and before you ask, she’s nineteen, and this was a summer gig.”
“What was wrong with Chloe?”
“Cancer,” Ivy said with the same authority his mother had used earlier. “She died of cancer, but we had a day of crying, and Mommy didn’t want any tears after that.”
His mother’s jaw dropped. “Aren’t you sad?”
Ivy nodded. “I’m allowed to be sad, but it’s okay because Uncle Bast and I are going to take care of each other.”
“You’re coming to Atlanta with Mee-maw, where we’ll get you a new wardrobe, and I’ll put you into a lovely private school where you’ll get the best education.” She tapped her chin. “We’ll try Baylor when she reaches sixth grade for boarding.”
Bastien quickly sped up his car, maneuvering through the streets until he could turn around and head back to the airport.
“Where do you think you’re going?” his mother questioned.
“Back to the airport. I’m not letting you continue talking about Ivy as if she’s not here and has no choices—and I’m sure as hell not allowing you to send Ivy away to boarding school. There’s no better way to show someone that you love and care about them than to keep them close.”
“But these are great schools.”
“Maybe, but not for Ivy, and certainly not something to decide before she’s even started first grade,” he answered firmly. “She already lost her mother,” he whispered. “I will not allow her to feel like she doesn’t matter to the rest of us.” Was this how a parent felt—possessive and protective? He’d questioned his sister’s decision to ask him to raise Ivy, but now he understood. He was Ivy’s only chance at a normal upbringing. He drove straight to the departure terminal and pulled to the curb.
“Bastien Alexander Richmond. What do you think you’re doing?” his mother asked.
“I’m dropping you off. If you’re not bringing something positive into our lives, then you have no place in our lives.” He parked the car and got out, going straight to the back to retrieve her luggage, which he set on the curb. He opened her door and helped her out.
“But what about Chloe’s service?”
“It’s tomorrow at the church at eleven o’clock.”
“How will I know which church?” She smoothed out the crinkles in the black fabric of her pantsuit.
“I’m told you can’t miss it. It’s the white building with a cross on the steeple.”
“Where will I stay?”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do.” He kissed her cheek and jogged to the driver’s side of the car. Once inside, he turned to Ivy. “Shall we go back to the cottage on the beach?”
“And Charlotte?” Ivy asked.
“And Charlotte,” Bastien replied, a smile forming on his lips for no clear reason.
CHAPTERSEVEN
At five o’clock, Charlotte slowly moved around the store, surveying the merchandise one last time before turning off the lights. Her stomach flipped at the sight of the pile of bills sitting on the counter—she would have to prioritize them tonight, but for now she picked them up and tucked them into her bag.
Ivy's letter, which she'd lovingly embellished with glitter and stars, drew her attention. She ran her fingers over the paper, feeling the heartfelt message inside, before slipping it into her bag next to the pile of bills. She reminded herself that if a five-year-old could find joy writing a letter to her deceased mom, nothing in Charlotte's life was awful. With that, she took a deep breath and stepped out of the store. The golden light from the setting sun glowed orange around her, painting a beautiful masterpiece stretching from one side of town to the other.
For a moment, Charlotte felt herself drift away from her worries and concerns—all that mattered at this moment was the beauty of nature surrounding her. Sensing that only a few precious moments were left before dusk settled in and brought a chill, she drew in one last deep breath and allowed herself a moment of peace before heading home for the night. She smiled, grateful for these moments of beauty and contentment that were part of the charm to living in Willow Bay.
She climbed into her car and headed toward her little bungalow on the beach. As she pulled into her driveway, the familiar sight of her home filled her with warmth. It had been in her family for over a hundred years. Her grandfather worked on the docks and won the land in a poker game. They weren't rich like the Kesslers or the Browns, but they always had enough. That was the message her Grandma Ida was famous for. You never needed more than enough. Her Grandpa Sam drilled in the idea that the harder one worked, the luckier one got, but Charlotte was pretty sure her grandfather was a card shark. Charlotte had never won a single game of anything in all the years she'd spent with him.
