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The large open space had a television in the corner and her daddy’s old recliner parked directly in front of it. There were various musical instruments on a nearby bookshelf and leaning against the wall. “Did Daddy claim this space or did you banish him here?”
“The windows downstairs make it hard for him to watch the game, so he watches up here. Fine by me, of course, with all the yelling. And his instruments, yes, well, these are the extras. Most are in the backyard. I presume you saw Daddy’s music studio back there?”
“I’m sure you’re loving that,” Ivy said.
Sarah laughed. “You have no idea.”
They heard the door slam and Trent shouted up the stairs, “Hope you guys are hungry! I’ve cooked up a storm.”
Ivy frowned. “Dad cooked?”
“No. You know how it is. I make the potato salad, the coleslaw, the baked beans, the rolls, and the cobbler and marinate the meat. He throws the meat on the grill and takes credit for the whole thing.”
Chuckling, they headed downstairs to the screened-in patio to eat.
They were a few bites into their meal when her dad spoke up. “You should stop by and visit my kids while you’re here. I have varsit
y marching band first period, although that might be too early for you. They’d die to meet you in person. I think most of them still think I’m lying when I tell them you’re my daughter. They look at this scrawny musician and can’t imagine I’d produce something as lovely and talented as you.”
“Well, that scrawny musician attracted a pretty lady,” Sarah said, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “And together, we created the ultimate genetic combination—a beautiful, talented musician.”
“And from what I hear,” her dad added drily, “a magnet for trouble.”
Ivy paused, her forkful of coleslaw in midair. “Trouble? Me?”
“Getting locked out of the cabin naked?”
Ivy frowned at her father. She was hoping her parents hadn’t heard about that little incident. “I was not naked. And I’m sorry about the window. I’ll get it fixed before I leave.”
Her dad looked at her in confusion. “What window?”
“Never mind,” she said dismissively.
“There was also the thing at the bar last night,” her mother noted.
“That was hardly a thing,” Ivy argued. Why did her parents have to know everything? Small towns. It was a wonder she’d managed to do anything as a teenager without them finding out. Her mother’s shop was closed today, which meant they’d heard about it at church. Perfect. “The thing with Blake was bound to happen, and it wasn’t that bad, considering. And the thing with Lydia . . .”
“You and Lydia are at it already?” her mother interrupted with a sigh. “I’d hoped you two had grown out of all that.”
“She started it!” Ivy argued, suddenly feeling fifteen again. “I was minding my own business and having a drink with Pepper. Lydia got in my face. So not my fault.”
“Sounds like the sixth-grade drama continues.”
“Sixth grade? What about all the grades after that? And for the record, Lydia is the one who decided we weren’t friends anymore. Suddenly, everything I did just seemed to bother her. And it still does, apparently.”
“Ivy,” her mother said, reaching out to cover Ivy’s hand with her own, “we all have our challenges and battles. But you are first and foremost a southern lady, and you need to act like it. You’ve only been home two days—we can’t have you in bar fights! People talk.”
“Why don’t they talk about how mean Lydia is?”
“You have to be the bigger person. Understand that she does all this because she’s jealous of you. She has been since you got that solo in the sixth-grade Christmas pageant.”
“What?” Ivy had never heard this.
“Her mother told me how broken up Lydia was about it. She’d been taking voice lessons and practiced for weeks. Then you tried out on a whim and got the part instead. She got her feelings hurt over it.”
“You’re telling me I went through six years of drama with Lydia because she decided I didn’t deserve to sing the verses of ‘It Came upon a Midnight Clear’ instead of her?”
“Apparently,” Sarah said with a sigh. “Things seem more dire at that age than they really are.”
