Family by Design

by Callie Endicott

  “We should meet face-to-face so I can show you. Gemma called and said you’d be home with Livvie all week in the afternoon after school. Why don’t I leave the office early and we can talk today in my home office? I have a few art supplies she could play with while we’re meeting.”

  Simon glanced at the clock. It was a good plan, but he hated inconveniencing Rachel. At the same time, she’d made it clear that she didn’t offer something she didn’t want to do.

  “Sure,” he agreed. “I’m picking Livvie up in a few minutes and should be home no later than three thirty.”

  “How about four, then?”

  “Great.”

  The school was careful about who picked the children up, and a teacher was waiting with Livvie when he arrived.

  “Hi, Daddy!” She ran forward and jumped into his arms.

  “Holy cow. You’re getting so big I won’t be able to lift you before long.”

  Livvie giggled. “You always say that. Rachel told me a bedtime story about a girl who tried and tried to shrink into a fairy and grow wings, but it didn’t work.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She had a bunch of adventures. Then she grew up and became a queen. Everybody loved her because she was kind and generous and wanted her people to be happy. It’s a splendid story.”

  Splendid seemed to be her new word of the week. Simon nodded to the teacher and returned with Livvie to his Volvo in the school loading zone. She automatically buckled her seat belt, and he checked the traffic before pulling out on the road.

  “We’re going down to Rachel’s after we get home,” he said casually. “She has art supplies and I was wondering if you want to make a get-well card for Gemma’s daddy.”

  Livvie’s expression grew instantly solemn. “I hope he gets better soon.”

  “Me, too. Gemma’s going to take a vacation, so even if we see her at home, we don’t want to ask for anything. No Mickey Mouse pancakes or rides to school or walks to the lake. Okay?”

  His daughter heaved a sigh. “Okay. What about Rachel? She likes walking and she knows how to cook everything, not just pancakes.”

  It was a question he didn’t know how to answer. Not long ago, his hackles would have gone up and he would have said, “Absolutely not.” Yet Rachel was a neighbor and had become a business associate. A tentative element of friendship was also creeping into their relationship.

  The idea of becoming friends with a woman was new to him. And it was rife with hazards. They came from such different places. Rachel had enjoyed a happy, relatively uncomplicated childhood with both parents, and she had friends she trusted well enough to make business partners. Except for Olivia and his real mother, he’d never trusted anyone.

  “We shouldn’t impose too much,” he hedged. “Rachel is still getting settled into her new home and business.”

  Livvie stuck her lip out in a small pout but didn’t protest. At home she changed into play clothes and they went downstairs.

  Simon rang the bell and waited, then rang it again.

  “Sorry, I got delayed,” Rachel said from behind them.

  He turned and saw her coming down the hall, dragging a medium-size pine tree in a pot. She was limping and he hurried to help. “Are you all right?” he asked in a low tone.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Look, Daddy, Rachel already got a Christmas tree,” Livvie exclaimed in excitement.

  A silent groan went through him. It wasn’t fair to expect Rachel to help when it came to his concerns about Christmas trees, but couldn’t she have waited to bring the thing home another day? Maybe she hadn’t remembered their conversation by the lake.

  “In a way it’s a Christmas tree, a living one,” Rachel said, giving him a small wink. “I got it for my balcony. I can decorate the tree and enjoy it through the window, but this way it will keep growing and growing and be green all year long. When it gets too big, I’ll have it planted in the forest and get another one.”

  Livvie’s face fell. “You aren’t going to have an inside tree?”

  “I’ll have several artificial trees for Christmas. I just don’t like cutting a living one down every year. Oh, I also found out they’re asking people to ‘adopt’ a tree at the park for decorating. It’ll be fun. I’m going to put solar lights and ornaments on mine, but also birdseed bells, so the animals have something extra to eat for the holidays.”

  His daughter looked up at him. “Can we do that, Daddy? Adopt our very own tree?”

  “Sure, sweetheart.”

  Rachel didn’t say anything else, but he was in awe of how she’d planted the idea of having an artificial tree inside the house without addressing it head-on. She unlocked the door and Simon carried the tree out to her balcony. “Is this all right?” he asked, adjusting it in one corner.

  “That’s fine. Livvie, do you want to work on an art project while your daddy and I talk?”

  “Daddy said I could make a card for Gemma’s daddy.”

  “That’s a terrific idea. I’ll get everything.” Rachel went out of the room, and shortly returned with a plastic storage box. “Here you go. Use whatever you want.”

  Soon Livvie was busily working at the kitchen table and Simon followed Rachel into her home office. She sat in front of a laptop and turned it on.

  “Based on our conversation when I was out of town, I assume your idea has something to do with the books my wife drew for our daughter,” Simon said, taking the chair next to hers.

  “Yes. Livvie wanted to take one to school to show her friends, but was worried about it getting damaged. I suggested we scan one of them instead, which led to us scanning all of them.”

  Simon had never looked through the books. They’d seemed like a private matter between his wife and daughter. The movers were given special instructions to pack and unpack them carefully, but that was all.

  “What’s so interesting about them?”

  “They seem to be filled with original Olivia Kessler designs. Take a look.” Rachel turned the laptop toward him so he could more easily see the screen.

  Simon’s chest hurt as he clicked through page after page. The designs were vividly Liv, with her color and energy, loosely woven into a story. So this was what she’d been doing all those evenings during her “alone” time with their daughter. Despite their mutual promise to leave work behind at the end of the day and make family a priority, she’d been refining clothing designs for her company.

  “You don’t seem happy,” Rachel said. “I thought you’d be thrilled. This is a treasure trove of designs for all seasons. You could even release collections of children’s clothing based on these books. I realize a lot of work is still involved. For one, designers will be needed who can follow through on the process to faithfully recreate the original drawings, but that shouldn’t be too difficult.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s just disconcerting to discover Liv was working, at the same time she was supposedly spending quality time with Livvie.”

  * * *

  RACHEL CAUGHT A glimpse of pain in Simon’s face, or at least she thought that was what she saw. He was still hard to understand.

  “I’m not sure creative people can easily turn off that part of themselves,” she said carefully. “My friend Logan Kensington is a photographer. It’s nearly impossible for him to stop looking at the world around him without considering how to frame it in a picture. That doesn’t mean he isn’t paying attention to other things. It’s simply the way he’s wired. Surely your wife was the same way, her brain constantly popping with how a certain color or pattern would look, and she was sharing that with her daughter.”

  “I suppose.” Simon seemed to shake himself. “I’ll have to see if these designs have already been released by Liv’ing Creations. For all I know, Olivia may have recreated the sketches and done the technical flats the morning after drawing
the pages in Livvie’s storybooks.”

  “Technical flats?”

  “That’s what she called them. Basically, they’re less artistic renditions of the storyboards. They show exactly where seams, et cetera, should be located. The pattern maker uses the technical flats to create a first draft of the pattern. Please understand I’m quoting my wife. This isn’t an area where I have a shred of experience.”

  Rachel nodded. “I tried to research the designs to see if they’d already been used, but it’s been hit-and-miss.”

  “What about the Liv’ing Creations’ website?”

  “The only photos on the website are from the past eighteen months. My guess is that it was revamped to reflect Janine Jenkins’s style. Since her work is so different than Olivia’s, it’s likely she wouldn’t want any pictures online from prior collections. The contrast would be too obvious.”

  Simon muttered something she couldn’t understand. “I’m sure you’re right, though it was done without my knowledge. It looks as if both Janine and Miriam Timmons may be looking for work by the new year. Miriam is the one who would have ordered a change to the website.”

  Rachel didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t liked Miriam the one time they’d met, and she definitely didn’t care for Janine Jenkins’s clothing designs, but fair was fair. “Simon, how often have you conferred with Miriam Timmons over the past two years?”

  “Rarely,” he admitted. “I’ve had other things on my mind. But I was very clear that I wanted to preserve Liv’s legacy for my daughter.”

  “Which could be interpreted as simply keeping Liv’ing Creations in the black,” Rachel argued. “There has to be a reason your wife trusted her in a management position. Maybe Ms. Timmons needs to be assured she isn’t going to lose her job for taking the same risks that Olivia used to take. Some of the early Liv’ing Creations collections were avant-garde, to say the least, and they could never be called conventional. Even high fashion has trends, and from my perspective, your wife refused to follow them.”

  Simon cocked his head. “Are you going to defend Janine Jenkins next?”

  That was a little harder. Rachel suspected the designer had known she wasn’t doing what Simon wanted, but had hoped her work would become hugely popular before he recognized the difference. “How does her contract read?”

  “It’s boilerplate, but my instructions weren’t ambiguous. I asked her to design clothes the way Liv designed them.”

  A laugh escaped Rachel’s throat. “Simon, I should have told you this before... If someone could easily design clothes like your wife, then other people would have copied her when she became so successful. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find someone willing to be more colorful and innovative than Janine. Conversely, Janine may have done you a favor. If Liv’ing Creations comes out with something new and different after such conventional offerings, it should generate huge interest in the fashion world. Kind of a new beginning.”

  He glanced at the computer. “And the designs in the picture books could be the answer.”

  “I believe so.”

  “Well, as I told you, Olivia left extensive records of all her collections, from the start of the process to the finish. She was meticulous. I’ll start checking the designs in the picture books against the ones put out by the company.”

  Rachel smothered another laugh. She doubted Simon would be able to distinguish one outfit from another. He’d said himself he didn’t know haute couture from a hole in the ground. “Why don’t you give me access to the records?” she suggested. “It’s something I can do in the evening or on weekends when I won’t have as many interruptions. And, since I’ve shopped for clothes from Liv’ing Creations, I might have a better eye for comparing the drawings to the finished product.”

  “You’re right, but I don’t want to take advantage. You must have a number of clients needing your attention.”

  She grinned at him. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a bill.”

  “I’ll expect it. Since you’re willing, I can give you computer files of the different collections, including scans of the original storyboards and technical flats. They might help.”

  Rachel thought it would be interesting to see the original drawings and how the finished product had turned out.

  A sudden twinge from her leg made her flinch and Simon’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I could tell you were limping earlier. Did you get hurt dragging that tree up the stairs?”

  “No, it’s an old injury. My muscles are sore because I’ve been working to strengthen them. That’s all.”

  She didn’t want to talk about it and hoped her dismissive tone would put an end to his curiosity. People close to her understood she had no wish to keep going over old territory. The accident had happened and she didn’t want to continually revisit it, or the year and a half she’d spent having surgeries and rehab.

  “I’ve noticed you usually take the stairs,” Simon commented. “Like the night when we went to the comedy club. You automatically went to the staircase, bypassing the elevator.”

  Rachel tried to suppress her irritation. Why couldn’t he leave it alone? So she had mild claustrophobia, it wasn’t debilitating and it wasn’t anyone’s business but her own. “Climbing stairs is good exercise.”

  “I see,” Simon said quietly. “Off the subject, thanks for that bit about the Christmas tree.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve been planning to get an evergreen for my balcony since I moved into the Carthage.”

  “And you just happened to get it on the way home from work, on a day we’re scheduled for a meeting?”

  Simon was grinning and Rachel grinned back. “Sue me. If your tree catches fire, all the sprinklers in the building may go off. It was merely a question of self-protection. I like warm showers, not cold ones.”

  He laughed outright. “Thank you, anyway. You know, a real tree wouldn’t have been so bad if Liv hadn’t put it up so early and loaded it with so many light strings. The heat dries the needles out in just a few days. Not that I thought much about it until after Livvie was born and I read about a house fire, started by the family’s Christmas tree.”

  “I understand the first year of parenthood can be filled with worries. And all the other years, as well.”

  Simon smiled ruefully. “Livvie seemed so small and fragile, my imagination went haywire. Thank goodness my wife was relaxed about everything. She’d laugh and tell me it was going to be all right, we’d learn to be parents as we went along. I’m glad one of us was calm and levelheaded.”

  “I understand.”

  Rachel focused on her computer screen. Sometimes Simon was appealing enough that she was in danger of seriously liking him. But she couldn’t forget his sharp edges. Sooner or later one of them would show itself and she could get hurt. A man could be a caring, loving father, but cold and insensitive to the adults in his circle.

  “I understand how your wife felt about having a fresh tree,” she added. “I love the scent and look of a silvertip pine, and I know a lot of them are grown in commercial tree farms, but life is easier when you use the artificial variety.”

  “Do you really put up more than one?”

  She bobbed her head. “Absolutely. I’m a Christmas fiend, just like my grandmother. I used to dream of having a big old house, the same as hers, with wonderful corners for reading and tucking decorations into. She also has little groves of live trees out in the yard to cover with lights. Decorating would take the entire weekend after Thanksgiving.”

  * * *

  A FAMILIAR PANG went through Simon...the same one he’d felt each time Rachel spoke about her childhood. Normal, whatever that was, filled with family and traditions. No wonder Livvie clung to the customs her mother had started.

  “Couldn’t you have found a place like that when you moved back to Washington?” he asked. “If not a Victor
ian, maybe an old farmhouse with those big, wide porches?”

  He noticed Rachel put a hand on her leg, the one she’d been favoring earlier. It seemed almost an unconscious reaction. There was more to the story than she was willing to reveal.

  “Maybe I’ll do that after I get fully settled at the agency,” she said lightly. “It’s hard to maintain a big house and yard at the same time you’re learning the ropes in a new career. Speaking of which, I’d suggest a working title of ‘Me and Mommy’ for the Liv’ing Creations project, provided you’re interested in adding a children’s clothing line. There could be sufficient designs in the storybooks for two or three years. That should be enough time to find one or more satisfactory designers to take over.”

  Funny, Simon had never expected to be sorry a subject had been changed back to a business topic.

  “A children’s line sounds interesting, and I’m certain Liv never did any kids’ clothes,” he said. “I have an employee who does market research who can look into it. The rest will depend on verifying whether these are new, unreleased designs.”

  “I’ll start with the comparisons as soon you get the information to me.”

  A noise caught their attention and they turned to see Livvie standing in the doorway of the office, holding something in her hands. “I’m all done. Do you want to see?”

  “We sure do.” Rachel waved her inside.

  Livvie trotted over and showed them the get-well message she’d made for Gemma’s father.

  “That’s terrific,” Simon told his daughter. “Since Gemma is staying with her parents right now, we’ll need to mail this to him.”

  “Okay, Daddy. I’m going to make a card for Gemma, too.” Livvie dashed out again.

  * * *

  “LIVVIE IS VERY TALENTED. Her ability seems really advanced for her age.” Rachel took out a large white envelope and gave it to Simon for the get-well card. “Gemma didn’t say much about her dad’s condition when we talked.”