“Louise thinks you’re going to marry Janice,” she declared.
“Well, that’s totally ridiculous.”
“Vivian tried to tell her that. But Louise wouldn’t listen.”
“Is that why you thought Vivian and Louise had had a fight?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you know why Vivian doesn’t agree with Louise? I mean, about me getting married to Janice?”
“Because she knows you don’t like Janice that much?”
“Yes. And also because she knows I like someone else much better.”
“You mean Waverly?”
He tried not to look surprised. “As a matter of fact, I do mean Waverly.”
“Do you like Waverly enough to marry her, Daddy?”
“What would you think if I did?”
He shot a glance her way. Seeing her perplexed expression, as if she were deep in thought, he waited.
“I don’t know,” she finally said.
“Oh.” He was stumped now. “But I thought you really liked Waverly. I thought we all agreed we could all three be friends. Remember?”
“Yeah. Being friends is not the problem, Daddy.”
“So, tell me, what is the problem?”
She stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Do you promise not to laugh?”
“Absolutely.” He held up his hand like a pledge. “I give you my word.”
“Well, I always hope that you and Mommy will get married again.”
“Oh.” He felt blindsided by that one. “Really?”
“Yeah. But every time I say that to Mommy, she laughs.”
“That’s probably because your mom is already married, Sicily.” He noticed a bench near the sidewalk and, taking Sicily’s hand, led her over to sit down.
“I know.” She sat down and focused on her lap.
“As far as I know, your mom and Gregory don’t have any plans to get unmarried.” He sat down beside her, turning toward her and studying her sweet pixie-like face. Her eyelashes brushed over her flushed cheeks ,and there was a smudge of chunky-monkey ice cream on her upper lip. The Band-Aid on her elbow was hanging halfway off. Suddenly she looked so small and young and slightly helpless. Even the purple streak in her hair suggested neglect or insecurity or something else he couldn’t quite peg. He felt a lump in his throat, wondering why he hadn’t seen her like this before.
“But what if they did, Dad? What if Mommy and Gregory got divorced? I’ve heard Mommy say she’s going to divorce him—you know, when they’re in the middle of a really bad fight, and they don’t know I’m listening.” She stared up at him with defiant blue eyes.
“People say things they don’t mean when they’re fighting, Sicily. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess so. But what if they really did get divorced, Daddy? It could happen. Olivia Martin’s parents did that. They got divorced, and then they got married again. It really does happen sometimes. Would you marry Mommy again?”
“I don’t…I, uh, I don’t…” He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than she’d already been hurt, and he wished he could undo all that had been done—make her life perfect somehow. Sicily deserved perfect. But how was that even possible?
Her eyes brightened now. “And then you and me and Mommy could all live together in the same house.”
He thought hard about this. He knew this was simply a child’s perspective, trying to put back together what had been broken so she could have what she wanted—her two parents living happily together under one roof. But he also knew that Sicily didn’t know all that had transpired, back when she was too little to understand such things. Sicily had no idea of everything her mother had done to destroy their marriage. Not that Blake didn’t blame himself too. He did. For years he’d gone over it again and again, wishing he’d done it differently. If only he’d been less focused on work and more attentive to his wife. Then maybe Gia wouldn’t have gone looking for attention from others. But even as he took that blame, he knew that their marriage had probably been doomed from the start. But what do you tell a nine-year-old?
He took in a deep breath. “You know, Sicily, if this were a perfect world, and I wish it were a perfect world—kind of like heaven will be someday—but if it was, I’d say, sure, your mom and I could get back together. To be honest, there’s a part of me that still wishes that could happen, in a perfect world.”
As his voice trailed off, her countenance fell, but he knew he had to continue. He had to help her understand this. “You see, this isn’t a perfect world, sweetie. Like we wish Vivian wasn’t sick, that she could live for a long time. I know you wish your parents could be happily married to each other. We all wish we lived in a perfect world. But we don’t. Not until we get to heaven anyway.”
“So you’re saying you and Mommy won’t get married again?”
“I honestly don’t think it’s possible. Mommy chose to marry Gregory. That’s just the way it is.”
“Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that.”
“Really?”
She let out a deep, sad sigh and stood up. “We should go, Dad.”
He stood too, but he wasn’t ready to end this conversation. “So do Gregory and your mom fight a lot?”
She shrugged but started to walk toward where the bikes were parked. “Sometimes they do. But they both were a lot happier when Mommy got that part in the new series. Gregory helped her to get it too.”
“I’ll bet your mom appreciated that a lot too.” Blake knew that had been one of the main reasons Gia had been attracted to Gregory in the first place. “Your mom’s been trying to get on a show for a while now. She sounded pretty thrilled.”
“Yeah, she was.” Sicily’s voice still sounded sad. Sad and a bit lost.
He stopped by the bikes, bent down to unlock them. But before they got on them, he put a hand on her shoulder. “Can I ask you a question now?”
“I guess so.”
“I know this world isn’t heaven,” he began slowly, “and nothing will ever be perfectly perfect down here. But if you could have it your way—I mean, except for your mom and me being remarried—what would you want, Sicily? In regard to things like where you live, or who you live with…like would you want me to move back to California so we could spend more time together there?”
“No, I like it here, Dad. I like your house, and it’s fun doing stuff with you. Like today. And I like Martha’s Vineyard a lot.”
“Really?” He felt relieved. “I thought you hated it at first.”
“I know. But that was just an act.” She held her bike by the handlebars now, slowly walking it along the sidewalk.
Encouraged, he walked alongside her. “So you wouldn’t mind coming out here from time to time to visit your old man then?”
She seemed to be thoughtfully considering this as they paused to wait for traffic.
Then it was safe to cross, but still she didn’t answer him. They continued to walk their bikes down a side street. Soon they would be at The Gallery, where he knew this conversation would end. To his dismay, Sicily seemed to want it to end right now, because she was not talking. He considered pressing her for her answer, but it was too late. Sicily, two steps ahead of him, was already parking her bike in the bike stand outside of The Gallery.
He followed her lead and, although she said it was unnecessary, he locked their bikes together. Then she ran eagerly to the door of the arcade, opening it, then waiting for him, holding it for him like a miniature doorman.
“Hey, I’m supposed to be the one to open the doors for you,” he reminded her.
“Sorry, but hurry up,” she commanded. “I can’t wait for you to see it.”
Before she let him go inside, she insisted he close his eyes and let her lead him to the perfect viewing spot. Feeling a little silly and somewhat conspicuous, he agreed, closing his eyes and holding her hand as she led him like a blind man past several noisy video games.
“Okay,” s
he said. “Open your eyes now.”
He opened his eyes and was quite impressed. “Hey, that’s really good, Sicily.” He nodded with approval. “You’re a very talented artist.”
“Well, you know, Waverly helped too.”
“But you were the one who came up with the idea,” he reminded her. “You put a lot of hard work into it, Sicily. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Yeah. That’s true.” She nodded. “I learned a lot about painting too.”
Now she began pointing things out to him. As he saw the sparkle returning to her eyes and heard the enthusiasm in her voice, he knew this experience had been about a lot more than just painting a mural. Thanks to Waverly, Sicily’s confidence and self-esteem had blossomed during the past couple weeks.
“Can we go upstairs and say hi to Waverly?” she asked. “And Vivian too?”
“I…uh…I don’t know.” He glanced over to the doorway that led to the upstairs.
“Please, Dad.”
“How about if you go up and say hi, sweetie. I’ll wait down here.”
“All right.” And zip, she was gone. He was a little disappointed that she hadn’t pressed him harder since he really wanted to see Waverly. Instead he walked around and scrutinized the arcade more closely, noticing how the freshly painted walls brightened the place up nicely. It was thinned out in there too. Some of the machines had been removed or rearranged, clearing an open space over by the counter. All in all, it was much more pleasant.
“Hey, you.” Waverly came up from behind him. “What are you doing here? Want to buy some tokens?”
“Sicily insisted we stop by.” He smiled as he took her in, those auburn curls pinned loosely up from her neck, her ocean eyes, sweet smile—he hoped he wasn’t staring. “Uh, she wanted me to see the completed mural.”
“So what do you think?”
“I think The Gallery is starting to look more like a real gallery.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but it is an improvement.” She glanced around. “Where’s Sicily?”
“She went upstairs to see you.”
“Oh. Well, Vivian’s up there. Maybe they’re visiting.” She held up a brown bag. “Dinner.”
“Don’t let us keep you from it.”
“It’s all right. We’re just having soup tonight. I think Vivian’s still recuperating from that whole hospital thing.”
“Yes, I can imagine.” He looked directly into her eyes—then had to control himself for saying what he really wanted to say. Not here. Not now. Give her time and space. Don’t overwhelm her again. “So are you and Vivian having some good visits?”
“Actually, we are. It’s been a great day.”
“Sicily was worried that Louise and Vivian had been in a fight.”
“A fight?” Waverly laughed. “No, not at all. I just wanted to spend some time with Vivian…alone. So I offered to bring her over here for some peace and quiet—you know, some mother-daughter time. Plus, I guess Janice was in a bit of a huff today. Anyway, Vivian was perfectly happy to get away.”
“I can imagine.” He grinned wryly. “Truth is, I’ve been avoiding being home too.”
“Worried that Hurricane Janice will come breezing by?”
“A little. Mostly for Sicily’s sake.” He sighed. “I assume Janice still plans to stick around until after the Fourth?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Well, that’s understandable. But I thought Sicily and I might run over to Edgartown tomorrow to see the parade and maybe the fireworks later in the evening.” He smiled at her. “Do you think you’d want to come with us?”
Her eyes lit up. “That sounds really fun!” Then, a second later, her expression changed. “Well, except I hate leaving Vivian like that—even for a day. I can’t tell her, of course. She’d read me the riot act and tell me to live my life or even threaten to go live her last days somewhere else.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
“Besides that, she and Louise are having their barbecue tomorrow. And they expect you and Sicily to be there too.”
He nodded in a halfhearted way. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’ll come, won’t you?”
“I seriously doubt that Janice would appreciate my company too much.”
“Oh, don’t worry about her. She knows how to mind her manners.”
“But what if she drank too much and lost it? We’d have an unexpected fireworks show on our hands. I hate to expose Sicily, or any of the other guests, to that.” Although by now he suspected that Sicily had seen some rather fiery displays between her mom and Gregory.
“I see your point.” Waverly tried to think of another option. “But it’s too bad. I know both Aunt Lou and Vivian wanted you and Sicily to be there.”
“Maybe there’s more I can do to defuse the volatile situation,” he said. “Do you suppose I could have a civilized conversation with Janice? Or do you think that would help?”
Waverly bit her lip. “It’s hard to say. With Janice, you never know. She might totally ignore you, like nothing ever happened. Or, like you said, she could blow up in your face. But that’s Janice.”
Just then Sicily came bounding down the stairs. “Oh, there you are,” she said as she ran up to hug Waverly. “Vivian said you went out to get soup.”
“That’s right.”
Sicily looked dubious. “That’s what you’re having for dinner? Just plain old soup?”
Waverly laughed. “Not just plain old soup. It happens to be lobster bisque. It’s Zephrus’s soup of the day, and it’s really scrumptious. Plus, we have homemade bread.”
“Oh.” Sicily nodded like that was fine. “Anyway, Vivian said we’ll see you guys tomorrow at the barbecue.” She looked at Blake. “Right, Dad? Because we are going, aren’t we?”
“Well, we were just discussing it, sweetie, and I’m not convinced it’s a good idea.”
“Dad.” She was using that preadolescent tone again. “Why not?”
Waverly grinned. “Yeah, Dad, why not?”
“Fine.” He held up his hands, knowing he was outnumbered. “You girls win. Sicily and I will come to the barbecue. But be prepared in case we have our own special fireworks show.”
“Really, our own fireworks show?” Sicily looked innocently hopeful. “That would be so cool, Dad.”
Blake winked at Waverly and, to his pleased surprise, she even winked back. As far as fireworks, well, he planned to do his best to keep it to the sparkler and sky rocket varieties, if at all possible.
Chapter Twenty-six
After the contractor bolstered up the apartment’s back deck with some hefty-looking posts beneath it, and enclosed it with sturdy railings, he proclaimed it “safe for occupancy.” Although the structure was stairless, Waverly began using and enjoying her outdoor space again. So it was that Independence Day morning found Waverly and her mother comfortably reclined in the Adirondack chairs, enjoying the morning sun and a cool marine breeze, along with their coffee and cinnamon rolls.
“I could get used to this little spot.” Vivian took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. She pointed to a corner of the deck. “But you really could use a big pot of red geraniums right there. Perhaps some kitchen herbs over here. And then it would be absolutely perfect.”
“Good ideas.” Waverly nodded. “You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. It’s been fun having you.”
Vivian smiled. “Thanks, sweetie. But I sort of miss the beach house too. In fact, I’m looking forward to Louise’s barbecue today.”
Waverly gazed out over the harbor, where a ferry was coming in, probably loaded with yet more tourists. How the Vineyard managed to house and feed all these summer people was still a mystery to her, but it seemed to work out. Perhaps some of the vacation people brought along their own food.
“But you’re not?”
Waverly looked at her mother. “Not what?”
“Looking forward to Aunt Lou’s barbecue?”
Wav
erly didn’t know if that was a question or a statement. “I, uh, I guess I’m looking forward to it….”
“Just not looking forward to seeing your cousin?”
Waverly nodded. “But knowing Janice, she could be completely over the whole thing by now.” She exhaled loudly. “Or not.” Then she told Vivian what Blake had said about having a special fireworks show today. “Of course, Sicily took him literally. She probably thinks her dad’s going to do some fabulous pyrotechnics today. I hope she’s not too disappointed.”
Vivian laughed.
“But I do think it’s sweet that Blake wants to protect her from an ugly fight.”
“From what I hear, Sicily is used to that sort of thing.”
“Really?” Waverly stared at her mother with interest. “What have you heard? And who did you hear it from?”
“Oh, this and that. Between Sicily and Blake I’ve managed to patch some things together.”
“Such as…?” Waverly wanted to appear nonchalant, but she was extremely curious.
“Well, for starters, it sounds as if Sicily’s mother, Gia, is something of a firecracker. In fact, Sicily actually compared her to Janice—except, as she pointed out, they don’t look anything alike.”
“What does Gia look like?”
“It sounds like she looks like Sicily, only in a grown-up package.”
Waverly nodded. “Then Gia must be quite pretty.”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t gotten the feeling that Sicily and Gia are very close,” Waverly said carefully. “Sicily doesn’t appear to miss her mother much.”
Vivian slowly shook her head. “I’ve noticed that too. Although I’m sure Sicily loves her mother.”
“Of course. What child doesn’t love her mother unconditionally?”
Of course, even as Waverly said this, she felt uneasy since, until lately, she and her mother had never been overly close—never had a traditional mother-daughter relationship.
“I suppose mothers are lucky that way.” Vivian’s expression grew somber. “When we’re young and inexperienced and find ourselves the parent of a child, we think we’re doing a decent job. Then we get older and wiser, and we realize how much we’ve blown it. Yet, if we’re lucky, our offspring will forgive us and continue to love us—hopefully unconditionally.”
Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard Page 24