Lavender Blue

by Donna Kauffman

  Will hadn’t been rude; he was too polite and well mannered for that. But he hadn’t been more than polite, either. Certainly not overtly friendly, and those smiles they’d shared, the laughter, they were a distant memory. He wasn’t dour or moody, he was simply . . . focused. Serious. Businesslike.

  “A little help please,” Vivi called out from the side porch, this time sounding more harried and less manipulative.

  Hannah put down the lavender stem she’d been staring at for a full minute. Her mind had wandered more often of late. Mostly to this same topic. She really needed to find her way past it. So what if Will was the first man she’d kissed since her ex-husband had packed up and walked out less than one year after the accident? And there hadn’t been any kissing him either since long before that day. Before the accident, even. And what she’d shared with Will wasn’t even a real kiss. It was just a result of a moment of overwrought emotion. It was a real kiss.

  “Hannah, honey?”

  “Coming!” she called out, silently berating herself. She was behaving worse than a lovesick teenager. She hurried out to the veranda and spied Vivi up on a ladder, hanging paper lanterns from the exposed beams overhead. “Oh my word, what on earth?” Hannah ran over, scooting between the round café tables that now dotted the deep side porch. “You shouldn’t be up there.”

  “Honey, the day I lose my ability to balance on my own two feet is the day you can just put me in the ground.” Vivi shifted a bit and wrapped the lantern strings around the hook that was already in the beam. “And that’s without a twenty-five-pound headpiece perched on my head. Hand me that little rubber-tipped clamp, will you? I dropped mine. There’s a pile on the table there.”

  Hannah grabbed one of the little clamps and handed it up to Vivi, who neatly clipped it on the hook, holding the lantern string in place. She was not at all convinced it was wise for Vivienne to be up there. “I wouldn’t trust me on a step stool,” Hannah told her, then held the stepladder steady as Vivi climbed back down.

  Vivi ignored Hannah’s admonitions, brushed her hands, and propped them on her hips as she looked overhead. “There. That’s a good start.”

  Hannah looked up and realized this was not the first lantern Vivi had hung. In her rush to get to Vivi before she fell on her head, Hannah hadn’t really taken in the room. “Oh,” she said, instantly entranced. She placed a hand over her heart and did a slow turn. “Vivienne, it’s exactly right.”

  “It was Avery’s idea to use the little clamps. She spied all the little eye hooks already screwed into the beams. I’m guessing we won’t be the first ones to host events out here. Looks like folks have been stringing up lights and such long before we had the idea.”

  “It’s perfect.” Hannah took in the wonderland Vivi had managed to create from their heretofore plain-jane veranda. The enclosed space was quite deep, with plank flooring painted a soft blue gray. The front wall that faced the fields and mountains was a series of French doors, also white, with big, panel-sized windows that afforded a beautiful view when closed. Each of them could be propped open as well, to create an outdoor café feeling, while still being protected from the sun and the elements.

  Overhead, the ceiling slanted in a gentle slope from the side of the house, with exposed beams painted white, and freshly stained wood running the opposite direction between. Three ceiling fans were spaced evenly overhead between the beams, their long, broad paddles turning lazily overhead, keeping the air moving without creating a wind funnel in the doing.

  In between the beams, strung in a crisscross pattern, were strands of white fairy lights. And from the beams themselves hung a scattered array of pretty little paper lanterns, all in white, in a variety of shapes and sizes. The lanterns closest to the fans were positioned well above the paddles, and others hung at different lengths from the beams, each clipped to the same eye hooks the light strands were strung through.

  “It’s so pretty and soft,” Hannah said. “It really makes the whole space feel quietly festive and roomier.”

  Vivi’s years spent as a costumer had given her a good eye for design and patterning. Who would have thought that skill would lend itself to interior decor, but it seemed the most obvious thing in the world to Hannah now.

  “You’ve created a little wonderland out here.”

  Vivi beamed. “I thought the fairy lights added just the right dash of magic to our otherwise bucolic little spot. But it needed . . . something more. I want the view of the lavender fields and the mountains to be the focal point, so it couldn’t be anything too strong.” She glanced up again. “But we needed something beyond what the little twinklers added, in case it’s an overcast day, and I didn’t want anything industrial looking.” She laughed. “I mean, why be functional when you can be inventive?”

  “Why indeed,” Hannah said with a laugh.

  “Do you know it was Chey who came up with the idea of little paper lanterns?”

  Surprised bordering on shocked, Hannah pulled her attention away from the delightfully cheerful lighting and looked at Vivi. “Chey? Really? I’m surprised she’d even notice, much less offer interior decorating tips.”

  “I was fretting over what to add and I wouldn’t stop going on about it. I think she threw the idea out there just to shut me up.”

  Hannah laughed. “That I believe.”

  “She said some friend of hers back in Wyoming did something similar for her wedding. Hung them from trees or some such. Outdoor shindig. But I knew in an instant she’d hit it right on the head.”

  “She did indeed.”

  “I called in a favor with a friend of mine back in Chinatown. I didn’t want anything flashy or gaudy. He hooked me up with the right guy and they shipped them last week.”

  “Well, you’ve outdone yourself.”

  Vivi looked from the lights overhead to the arrangement of café tables, and her expression shifted to a look of concern. “I’ve saved the worst part for last.”

  Hannah frowned. “What worst?” She looked around. “The place looks amazing. I can’t believe you pulled all this together in a matter of weeks.”

  “Honey, I ran costuming for two musicals that had three-year runs. Each. Throwing some tables and some lighting together?” She barked a laugh. “Child’s play.”

  Hannah happened to know that Vivi had spent a good part of the past few weeks fretting over what kind of café tables to get. Choosing the style of chairs alone had almost driven them all out of the house. She decided it would be prudent not to mention that. “What’s left to do? Or do you mean the menu? Because I really love our idea of keeping this welcome party simple and pared down. I think you’ve put together the perfect—”

  “Table settings,” Vivi stated somewhat emphatically, talking over her. “Oh, my word, do you have any idea how many choices there are? I’ve narrowed it down to twenty. And it was painful, I tell you, painful.”

  “Twenty?” Hannah said faintly.

  “There is so much out there today. Stunning, tasteful . . . and the colors?” She clasped her chest and closed her eyes as if overcome, ever the showgirl. “To die for, I tell you.”

  Hannah grinned. It was impossible not to get swept along on Vivi’s demonstrative, ebullient rapture. “Well,” she said, looking around again, with a shrewd eye this time. “I’ve never been one for hostessing parties, but I do know a little about color theory.” An idea came to her and she quickly counted the tables. There were six round tables that seated four, positioned centrally, from one end of the veranda to the other. Those were surrounded by close to a dozen smaller, two-person tables. She looked back at Vivi. “Could you maybe just trim your final choice list by a few?”

  Vivi’s gaze narrowed in speculative interest. “What have you got in mind?”

  “The lights, the lanterns, the tables, are all white, in keeping with our summer theme of cool and calm. You’re right that the fields, the mountains, the gardens, will provide the big, splashy view, with all the gorgeous colors.” Warming to he
r idea, she said, “What if you picked two to four settings of each of your final choices? Each table gets its own setting? I’m guessing you went floral and cheerful, which is perfect. Floral settings will add just the right splash of color to elevate the background tableau of white tables, chairs, lights, and lanterns, making them feel light and airy. We’ll do centerpieces made from our lavender as a unifying theme. As the settings are flat, they won’t compete with the view. Patrons will look down and see a pretty table, and up to take in the stunning panoramic view. Does that make sense?”

  Vivi immediately swept her up in a tight bear hug. “Darling, you’ve gotten it right on the first go.” She squeezed again, cutting off Hannah’s surprised laugh on a gasp. For her age and wiry frame, Vivi had surprising strength. “Oh, I could kiss you.” She let go and leaned back to beam up into Hannah’s face. “In fact, I think I will.” She rose up on her toes and gave Hannah a noisy kiss on the cheek, then blotted at the bright lipstick mark she left behind. “And we thought Avery was the only genius in our fabulous little cobbled together family.”

  The sound of someone clearing his throat stopped their conversation. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  Both women turned to find Will standing in the doorway that led to the kitchen.

  “The fireplace mantel and fronting is done,” he told them without preamble, “but I have a few questions before I start on the hearth.” He gave Hannah a perfunctory nod but kept his attention on Vivi.

  For Hannah’s part, she nodded back, her smile . . . well, maybe easy wasn’t the word, but it was sincere. Yes, that was one way to describe it. He’d been kind to her in the lamb house that day. He didn’t want anything beyond that. Also fair. She just wished she could get to the point where she could look at the man without wanting to devour him.

  Honest to goodness, he was in filthy dark green canvas trousers and a black T-shirt that had seen better days. Years, even. His hair was caked in white dust from cutting rock, and his face was streaked with more of the same. And if he’d walked up to her right then and cupped her cheek, the way he had that day in the stable, she’d have willingly gone right into his arms, filthy clothes and dusty everything be damned.

  Vivi looked from Will to Hannah, then back to Will, a considering look on her exquisitely made up face. “Well, I’ve got my hands a little full here. Hannah, be a darling and go up and help sort out whatever the questions are.” She flashed a smile at Hannah, her eyes alight with intent. “I trust your judgment.”

  Hannah didn’t miss the message. But that didn’t mean she had to go along with it. “Oh, I’ve still got a whole basket of lavender buds to pick, and it’s your bedroom, Vivi. Surely you’d rather—”

  “You’ve got great taste, which you just proved by saving me days on those place settings,” Vivi said. “It shouldn’t take but a minute or two. I’ve got to get the rest of these rascals organized, so the patterning works. These ceiling fans are throwing my design off.” She shrugged. “If it isn’t one thing it’s another.” She waved her beringed hand as if the matter was settled.

  When neither Will nor Hannah said anything, much less made a move to follow orders, Vivi moved the ladder over a few feet, grabbed another lantern and clamp from the café table, and started climbing.

  “Ms. Baudin,” Will said, immediately concerned.

  “Now, don’t you go making me give you the same lecture I just gave Miss Hannah. And for the last time, it’s Vivi. Now go on, both of you.”

  Hannah noted the concern on Will’s face didn’t ease one whit as Vivienne climbed to the top rung of the stepladder. He glanced to Hannah as if silently asking whether they should do something.

  “She used to do far more complicated things than this, in spike heels, wearing about thirty pounds of three-foot-tall feathers and beaded crowns on her head,” Hannah told him. “I agree with your assessment, but I’m pretty sure she could do acrobatics off the top step that would put us both to shame.”

  Vivi hooted at that. “You’ve got that right, sister. Go on now. I’ll holler if I need either of you. Avery’s back in her lab playing mad scientist, so she can come out here if necessary, but she said something about timing being important so things don’t explode and I didn’t want to risk that.”

  “No,” Hannah said faintly. “That would be bad.”

  Despite both Hannah’s and Vivi’s assurances, Will still had a dubious expression on his face, but rather than risk insulting the woman who’d hired him, he finally acquiesced and nodded at Hannah. “I’m sorry to intrude on your schedule. Should only take a minute.”

  Hannah nodded and swore she could feel the heat of Vivi’s gaze on her back as she followed Will into the house. He didn’t say anything as she trailed him down the hall to the main staircase. He paused to allow her to ascend first, but she waved him on. “Go ahead, I’ll follow.” It was already uncomfortable enough. She didn’t need to feel his gaze drilling her in the back—or anywhere else—as they walked up the stairs.

  He paused a moment, as if wanting to say something, but in the end, simply nodded and went quickly up the stairs. “Vivienne wants a raised hearth,” he said, all business once again. “But I think it would look better to have a small mantel in front of the base, then build in the hearth at floor level. That would have the effect of creating a raised fireplace, making it easier for her to put in fresh firewood, and clear out ashes.”

  She followed him into the room. Vivi was having electrical work and painting done in the other rooms at the same time as the fireplace restoration, so there were plastic sheets taped to doorways to keep the dust out, her grand four-poster had been moved to the middle of the bedroom, the mattress stripped and draped with cloth. Her antique dressing table, chifforobe, and wardrobe had also been draped. The rest of the furnishings had been moved to one of the other top floor rooms that wasn’t presently being renovated.

  Hannah knew that Vivi had been sleeping on a daybed in that same otherwise unfurnished room. Well, Vivi called it a daybed. Hannah called it what it was, “the glorious divan of Broadway.” What else would one call an eggplant-colored, velveteen settee the size of a modest ocean liner, with a curvy, heavily upholstered back, gold braid trim, and decorative legs that had been elaborately hand painted with a detailed floral pattern. It was an amazing piece of structural art, but challenging to work into a room decor plan . . . unless you were Vivienne Baudin.

  Hannah walked over to the fireplace, her mouth dropping open in awe. “That’s positively stunning, Will.” The fireplace front had been redone in river rock, with a hand-chiseled granite mantelpiece that had been reclaimed from a condemned courthouse down in Rockfish. Will had inlaid the river rock in a pattern that made it look like flowing water. The variety of colored stones had been arranged in curves and swirls, all working together as if the water itself had swept them into the flow of the design. “That’s truly a work of art.” She turned to him. “I could stare at that for hours. Daily. Is this typical of the kind of thing you do?” She looked back at the fireplace. “I would think something so elaborate would take . . . well, I don’t know. I couldn’t even imagine.” She fell silent as she let her gaze trail along the variety of coils and gentle flourishes that all flowed together to create the overall movement in the pattern. “I was just up here a few days ago, and you hadn’t even begun.”

  “The rocks tell you where they need to go,” he said, as if he’d merely been the messenger.

  Hannah looked to him. “Has Vivi seen this?”

  He nodded. “She wanted something different from the bluestone work of the main fireplace downstairs. I showed her some photos of other work I’ve done, and she decided on river rock. I was skeptical, but she was set on having it.”

  “I think it’s a wonderful choice. I agree you might imagine it would be too contemporary or rustic contrasted with her big, heavy antique pieces, but it’s going to look amazing when this room is all done.” She smiled. “I can’t imagine any setting that this wouldn’t complement, re
ally.” Once she’d finished gushing, she realized that he hadn’t really relaxed or joined in. The awkward ice hadn’t really been broken at all. “Will—”

  “Hannah—”

  They spoke at the same time, but Will gestured for her to continue.

  She nodded, then took a moment to find the right words. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us,” she said, opting to get straight to the matter in hopes they could clear away the strain and move on. “What happened in the lamb house”—she held his gaze—“all of it . . . I know it was just the moment, the emotional intensity of it all. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or . . . anything, when we’re around each other. And I feel like you are. We both are. I’m hoping we can find our way back to simply being . . . who we are. Talk when we want, laugh when the moment calls for it.”

  If his impassive expression was anything to go by, maybe she’d misread the situation entirely, and he was behaving exactly in the way that made him comfortable, which was to say, not talking at all.

  “Maybe I’m just speaking for myself,” she said into the growing silence. “I just don’t want you to feel you need to avoid being direct with me or saying whatever is on your mind. I feel as if we’re dancing around things. Maybe one specific thing. So, I was hoping to clear the air.”

  “I was under the impression that maybe you’d just as soon take a step back entirely,” he said, calmly but definitely directly. “And that’s okay. Your prerogative. I was just trying to give you that space.”

  She hadn’t really known what he might say, but she hadn’t expected anything like that. She frowned. “What gave you that idea?” she asked, sincerely confused by his assumption.

  “Actually, it was something Jake said.”

  Now she was completely flummoxed. “Jake? I don’t think Jake and I have spoken since then. I haven’t seen him. I—” She broke off, trying to think if she’d missed something that might have hurt or insulted Will’s son, but drew a blank. The last time she’d seen him had been in the lamb house the previous week.