She’d faced her father, shoulders squared. “I am going to marry Declan,” she told him, feeling the defiance in her eyes, in her tone. “I love him and he loves me and that’s all I need to know.”
He winced again, and the driver rushed from the black sedan. As William went back to his car, he turned again. “Do not marry him, Ivy.”
That was the last time she saw her father. Weeks later, he died from heart failure and complications from cancer that no one knew he had. He’d died just a few months ago, and Ivy was still waiting to feel grief. She often wondered if that meant she was cold, but the more she thought about it, the more she knew that she couldn’t love, couldn’t grieve a stone. And that was what her father was and always had been.
A car horn blasted Ivy out of her thoughts. She dashed over to her squad car and retrieved a heavy cardigan sweater, then ran back and draped it over Laura’s shoulders.
“You’re absolutely right, Laura,” Ivy told her. “It doesn’t matter what you wear. But I know where you can get an absolutely stunning white wedding gown for free—in three days.”
Laura brightened. “Where?”
“I’m getting married Saturday night,” Ivy said. “I won’t need my dress on Sunday.” She’d actually already offered it to Alanna, but Alanna had totally different taste and had her heart set on a Victorian-style dress with a high, lacy neckline and puffed sleeves. She had it on layaway and put twenty-five dollars down on it each week.
Laura’s mouth dropped open. “You’d give me your wedding dress?”
Ivy nodded and smiled. “What am I going to do with it? Get it dry cleaned and store it in the back of my closet for twenty-five years until maybe or maybe not the daughter I might or might not have might or might not want to wear it?”
Laura bit her lip. “I can’t believe you’d really give me your dress. That’s so unbelievably nice. And I think we’re even the same size,” she added, glancing over Ivy’s thin figure.
“Well, even if you have to do some fast sewing and altering,” Ivy said, “you’ll have a beautiful dress. I’ll drop it off at the diner around ten Sunday morning.”
“Really?” Laura asked again, the color returning to her cheeks. “I can’t believe you’d do that.”
Ivy smiled again. “I’m happy to.”
And she was, though she wondered, for just a moment, if she was supposed to want to keep her gown tucked away in her closet for the daughter she might or might not have. Perhaps she just wasn’t sentimental or nostalgic. Then again, family memories weren’t big with Ivy’s mom. Dana Sedgwick hadn’t been particularly close to her own parents, and they’d died when Ivy was just a child. Sometimes Ivy thought she should work harder to change, to become someone with a hope chest, someone who treasured family heirlooms, especially of the homemade variety.
You are who you are, Declan said all the time. And who you are is pretty great. And that was good enough for Ivy. She would feel better about where she’d come from and who she was and where she was going. Which was, to her father’s dismay, to a future with Declan McLean.
As she and Dan walked back to the squad car, Dan said, “I sure hope I don’t knock into you on the dance floor at your wedding and spill my beer all over your gown. I did that at my cousin Annie’s wedding. Man, was she pissed!”
Who put Dan on the guest list? Note to self: Avoid partner at wedding.
Chapter Two
“To the bride-to-be!” Ivy’s bridal party toasted in unison, the four women raising their glasses of champagne. Ivy stood at the head of their big round table at Lulu’s Bistro and clinked each glass.
“And it’s all my doing!” Dana Sedgwick boasted, raising her hand triumphantly. “If I hadn’t been friendly with Declan’s mother—God rest her soul—and if I hadn’t had that party, Ivy wouldn’t have met Declan and wouldn’t be getting married tomorrow. I just love that I, and I alone, am responsible for getting my daughter married. And to such a catch!”
Ivy’s half sisters, Amanda Sedgwick Black and Olivia Sedgwick Archer, both married to “catches” themselves, shot Ivy “your mother continues to amaze me” good-spirited glances. Alanna, who’d grown up just a few blocks away from Ivy, had long been used to Ivy’s mother.
Ivy shared a conspiratorial smile with her sisters. She still couldn’t believe her sisters were really here, part of her life, part of the biggest, happiest day of her life. Just a few months ago, prior to William’s death, she might have invited them to the wedding, but she wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d made excuses and sent vases or a card with a check. Now, here they were, her co-matrons of honor, fussing over her the way sisters would. They’d even created this bachelorette party for her.
Previously, her sisters had been like strangers to her. But when they’d been called together for the reading of William’s will last December, a relationship had begun to form. Who else could possibly understand what it was like to be a child of William Sedgwick except for his other children? Amanda and Olivia knew. And in the past few months, the three women had relied on each other for support. They had become real sisters.
Ivy’s mother had been scowling and harrumphing at Amanda and Olivia all night. She’d also been criticizing them like crazy.
“Amanda, dear, you should really think about cutting off all that long brown hair—you’re so bony, I mean, thin, of course, that your hair just overtakes you. You might try a short cut like Amanda’s. Yes, a short, no-nonsense cut would suit you much better. And, Ivy, you should really think about growing out your hair. Look a little sexier, for heaven’s sake. Now, Olivia, if I were you and had that peaches-and-cream complexion, I wouldn’t use that sheer lip gloss. I would use a bright pink. I think you should try it.”
Unbelievable. Her mother was trying to make her sisters as ugly as possible.
Dana Sedgwick had long been obsessed with looks. Disappointed in her tomboy daughter, her mother had tried to frill Ivy up, but Ivy would revert back to her T-shirts and jeans and unadorned hair. When Ivy was thirteen, her mother had forced her to attend a local modeling school, where you didn’t so much need looks or height or a thin figure as the money to pay the tuition. The other girls, though, were local beauties, and they looked at Ivy with “what is she doing here” contempt. Still, Ivy spent six weeks walking back and forth on a four-inch-wide line with a book balanced—sometimes—on her head. She took lessons in makeup application, how to properly smile for the camera, and how to stand with one foot slightly forward at all times.
When Ivy told her mother she was quitting whether she liked it or not, her mother used what she always used to control Ivy. And for some reason it worked, as it always did.
You know, Ivy, I think the reason your father has nothing to do with you is because you’re ... well, not the glamour-girl type. I’ll bet he makes a fuss over Olivia.
Of course, he didn’t, which Ivy learned during their two-week summer vacations together. But as a teenager, Ivy had fallen prey to the idea that if she was just more, her father might suddenly pay attention to her. She wised up a few years later and began to accept herself. Something her mother never could quite do, which was fine with Ivy. She loved her mom, but her mother was nutty.
Take, for example, how the bachelorette party wasn’t even finished with their main course when her mother got her worst dig of the evening into her sisters.
“It’s funny how little Amanda and Olivia look like their father, don’t you think, Ivy? You look so much like him. Then again, I suppose that because God knew you were the only legitimate heir—”
Ivy had dragged her mother outside at that point for a little chat. After promising to not say a single word about Olivia or Amanda for the rest of the night, Dana Sedgwick was allowed to stay at the bachelorette party. She’d headed back to the table muttering about how “touchy and insecure the illegitimate were.”
And her mother had barely been able to keep her promise. Why? Because her sisters had received their inheritances from William, but
Ivy—and let’s all say it together—William’s only legitimate child!—would receive hers tomorrow. Ivy’s mother was a nervous wreck about what Ivy would get. If it wasn’t bigger and better than the “illegitimate” Sedgwick girls, Dana Sedgwick planned to sue. Good luck there, Mom, Ivy thought with a mental roll of her eyes.
“Declan is quite a catch,” Alanna agreed, blowing a kiss at Ivy. “Gorgeous.”
“I understand that your young man is quite a catch himself,” Ivy’s mother said. She turned to Amanda and Olivia. “Alanna snagged herself a doctor.”
Alanna blushed. “He’s a resident at Applewood General. Wow, I can’t believe that in just six months I’ll be following Ivy down the aisle.”
“Someone at this table won’t be getting married,” boomed a raspy voice.
The five women whirled around to find a diminutive woman, her head wrapped in multicolored jewel tone scarves, and her slight body draped in a full-length fur coat, staring at them, her expression as serious as her voice.
“Excuse me?” Alanna asked, barely able to contain a giggle.
The strange woman stared at Alanna for a moment, then looked at each woman at the table before settling her gaze on Ivy. “You are the bride to be, no?”
Ivy had no idea who this woman was. “Yes, I am. And you are?”
“I am Madame Elena.”
“Oh!” Ivy’s mother said, jumping up. “This is the fortune teller I hired for your bachelorette party! Oh goodie that you’re here.”
The woman scowled.
“Mom,” Ivy whispered in her mother’s ear. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Of course I did!” Dana Sedgwick said loudly. “I want to find out how many babies you’re going have.”
Ivy rolled her eyes, but had to smile. “Mom. Declan and I are not planning to start a family for at least two—”
“I will get started,” Madame Elena interrupted. She had yet to crack a smile. She removed her coat and snapped her fingers at a waiter, who rushed over to take the fur. Then she positioned a chair between Ivy and her mother and sat down. “Everyone hold hands and close your eyes.”
There were barely suppressed giggles, but a peek told Ivy that everyone complied.
“As I said,” Madame Elena continued, her hands ice cold on Ivy’s. “Someone at this table will not be marrying her fiancé.”
Ivy opened her eyes; so did everyone else.
“We’re looking for fun fortunes,” Ivy’s mother trilled with a glare at the fortune teller. “We’re celebrating here.”
“I only speak the truth,” Madame Elena said.
Ivy’s mother glanced from Ivy to Alanna. “Alanna, honey, don’t worry.” She leaned closer. “She can’t really see into the future.”
“Actually, I can’t,” Madame Elena said. “I can see into the past. And based on the past, I can see the future.”
Alanna looked nervous. “My past with Richard isn’t so hot. He broke up with me twice before we got engaged last year. He wasn’t ready to commit.” She bit her lip. “He’s going to dump me, isn’t he? I’ve been putting down money every week on that gorgeous wedding gown and he’s just going to dump me.”
“Alanna, absolutely not!” Ivy said. She turned to the fortune teller. The liar, actually. “I’d like you to leave now.”
“There’s been trouble among you,” the woman said as she rose. “Danger. And it’s not done with you yet.”
“You can go now!” Ivy’s mother shouted. “And I’ll be calling my credit card in the morning to cancel the transaction!”
Ivy shook her head and turned to Alanna. “Honey, the woman is a nutjob. Don’t give it a second thought. Richard adores you. He’s crazy about you.”
Amanda nodded. “I once had my fortune told. The lady told me that I’d become a movie star when I turned twenty-five. You haven’t seen me in any movies, have you?”
That got a small smile from Alanna.
“And a fortune teller once told me that all my hair would fall out and that I’d be covered in boils because of something awful I’d done,” Olivia said. “I was thirteen at the time, so of course I believed it. I clearly looked guilty about something, and so she focused on it and told me something awful so that I’d keep paying her to tell me more.”
Ivy nodded. “I’m getting married tomorrow and you’re getting married in six months and we will both live happily ever after.” She raised her champagne glass to her best friend. “Alanna,” she whispered. “Trust me. My mother found Madame Weirdo in the Yellow Pages.”
Alanna took a deep breath, then smiled. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.” She lifted her glass, then clinked and smiled. “To happily ever after.”
Ivy stretched luxuriously in bed and squinted against the bright sun shining through the curtains. The forecast called for a high of fifty degrees, warm for March. Ivy was glad she’d chosen to be married on the first day of spring. It meant change. Rebirth. New. Her entire life was going to be different.
She was getting married today! This was the last time she would sleep alone in this house. The last time it would be her house. After she and Declan returned from their honeymoon, he would officially move in and commute to Manhattan. This would be their house.
She thought of Declan, of his tall, muscular body that made her mouth go dry on sight. Of his thick, chestnut-colored hair, his sparkling, intelligent blue eyes. The dimple in his left cheek. She wished he were here right now, making mad passionate love to her. But he was at the dorm, holding to tradition of not seeing his bride before the ceremony.
It had been fun, actually, to be separated from him last night. And after Madame Weirdo had left, her bachelorette party had been a blast. After dinner, they’d danced at a local club and then returned to Ivy’s house for some serious girl talk. About men, about love. Alanna had been completely reassured that Richard was madly in love. And Olivia and Amanda were both so happy, both so in love with their husbands. Ivy and Alanna couldn’t wait to use the words my husband!
The phone rang, and Ivy glanced at the clock: 7 a.m. She didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know it was her mother. Today was more than just Ivy’s wedding day. It was the day she had to pick up her letter of inheritance from her father’s lawyer. The letter that she was not permitted to receive until today—her wedding day. William’s way of controlling her from the grave.
Back in December, at the reading of her father’s will, which Ivy hadn’t even wanted to attend, she and her sisters had been shocked to discover that William had left them each an envelope, which they were to open on specific days. Amanda had received hers just days later. Olivia a month later. And Ivy was to receive hers on March 20. Her wedding day. Hardly a coincidence.
Ivy grabbed the phone. “Morning, Mom.”
“I really think I should accompany you to the attorney’s office, Ivy,” Dana Sedgwick said predictably. “You really shouldn’t have business on your mind on your wedding day.”
“Mom, I’m sure the letter will inform me that I’ll inherit Dad’s bed-and-breakfast.” The beautiful old inn was located an hour’s drive from Ivy’s town. “And if I do inherit it, I’m sure Dad’ll make me live in it for a month and instruct me to walk backwards through the rooms or some other ridiculous thing.”
Ivy shook her head at the idea. Both Amanda’s and Olivia’s letters indicated that they would each inherit property if they followed his instructions to a T. After not opening certain doors or looking in certain mirrors and having to sit on a living room chaise for one hour a day, Amanda had inherited a brownstone in Manhattan, which she’d then donated to charity. It was in that brownstone that she, then a struggling single mother, and Ethan Black had fallen in love as he saved her from a crazy exboyfriend. And, before inheriting the house in Maine, Olivia had had to buy two items from local stores in Blueberry, Maine, where the girls had spent their summer vacations. And where Olivia had first met her husband as a sixteen-year-old.
“That inn is on the water, Ivy,” he
r mother snapped. “It’s a multimillion-dollar property. I could retire well, there.”
Retire. As if Dana Sedgwick had worked a day in her life! The only woman who’d managed to get William Sedgwick to marry her, despite his having annulled the marriage a week later, Ivy’s mother had won herself a tidy settlement. She was more than comfortable.
Ivy sat up in bed and leaned against the headboard. “Mom, I think you’d better be prepared for the letter to contain nothing but a tirade. Remember, I’m marrying Declan against William’s wishes.”
“You’re his only legitimate child. He wouldn’t cut you off.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. Her mother had been saying that for as long as Ivy could remember. No matter how many times Ivy retorted that her father had cut her off and out all her life, her mother still insisted that it mattered that for one week, she and Ivy’s father had been married.
“Yet, he chose my wedding day to insist I receive and open his letter,” Ivy pointed out. “I’m sure the letter says that if I go through with the wedding, I’ll inherit nothing.”
“I’ll bet he not only left you the inn but a huge monetary settlement,” her mother said. “You are his only legitimate child, Ivy,” she added yet again. “And to make up for having compensating Declan so ridiculously poorly at this point in his career and then having the gall to fire him for no reason, William probably left you a fortune in cash.”
Her mother was seriously delusional. “I really doubt that, Mom. And I don’t want William Sedgwick’s money. I’ve been telling you that for years.”
“Nonsense! He owes you, Ivy!”
What Ivy felt her father owed her was his love, and he’d never given her that.
She threw off the blanket and stared at her feet. In just a few hours, her toenails would be a sparkly pale pink. It would be her first pedicure. “Mom, I need to get going. I’ll call you later.”
Shadowing Ivy Page 2