Page 24 of Tangled Up With You
She sniffled, her smile wobbly but more genuine that time around. That was something, at least. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”
She and her kids left a few moments later, and as soon as the door closed behind them, a low din started up throughout the coffee shop. People began to whisper and speculate about the recent widow and her poor kids.
It was bad enough having to suffer through the loss she’d experienced, but I couldn’t imagine coming back to the town where I’d grown up to have everyone gossip about me behind my back.
I made a silent vow right then that I was going to do better than the other busybodies in town. I was going to try and be the kind of friend Blythe needed.
Chapter Thirteen
Ivy
“Are you all right, love bug? You’re looking a little green.”
I stumbled out of eagle pose at my mom’s question and lowered myself to my mat as a wave of dizziness washed over me. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, pulling in the fresh air and the sweet perfume of the plants and flowers that surrounded me into my lungs. I took slow, centering breaths as I tried to push away the nausea gripping my stomach.
When my mom, Hayden, had called earlier this morning and asked if I wanted to do yoga, I’d invited her over, hoping that a little bit of exercise would help get my energy back up. I’d been feeling run down lately thanks to a nasty stomach virus that didn’t seem to want to go away.
“Yeah,” I blew an exhale past my lips as the worst of the nausea passed. “I’m good.” I peeled my eyes open and looked at my mother, offering her a smile. “This bug is just kicking my ass. It doesn’t want to go away.”
She lowered onto her mat beside mine and leaned over to place her palm on my forehead as her brow furrowed. “You aren’t running a fever,” she said, but she didn’t sound relieved by that knowledge.
“I’m fine, Mom. Really.”
She still looked skeptical, and I knew she was fighting her desire to go full-on helicopter mom like she had whenever I’d been sick as a kid. It wasn’t something that happened very often, but when it did, it never failed to knock me on my ass. “If you say so. Just promise me that if you don’t get any better in a few days you’ll go see the doctor.”
“I promise. But it’s really not necessary.” I grabbed my water bottle from the grass beside me and popped the top, gulping some back. “See? I’m already feeling better.”
She hummed but let it go.
Giving up on more yoga, I let myself fall back onto my mat and stared up at the fat white clouds that dotted the bright blue sky. “You can keep going if you want,” I told her. “I’m going to lie here and pick out shapes in the clouds.”
Instead of flowing into her next pose, my mother stretched out on the ground beside me. “I forgot all about your cloud picking. You learned that from Sylvia, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. She and I used to spend hours lying out here, finding all kinds of animals and faces.”
“I remember. It was the only time you would be still for more than a couple minutes.” I could hear the fond smile in my mother’s voice. She missed her great-aunt almost as much as I did. She hadn’t had the best family, her parents more concerned with status and how they looked to other people than actually caring about their own flesh and blood, so she’d written them off a long time ago. They were all the same. All except for Sylvia. In a way, the vivacious life-of-the-party had saved us both.
I smiled at the memory of my mom’s great-aunt. She had been one of my most favorite people in the whole world, and the closest thing I’d had to a grandmother. My parents divorced when I was little, and my mom chose Hope Valley to start fresh because this was where Sylvia lived. One of the saddest days of my life was the day we lost Aunt Sylvia. She’d been a force of nature. A bright, shining spot in every single day. She’d been instrumental in raising me and teaching me to love myself for who I was. My mom swore up and down that my wild streak came from her, and having known the woman, I didn’t doubt that one bit.
As a matter of fact, I was so connected to the woman that I still lived in her house. When we first moved here, she’d insisted my mother and I take the big house while she moved into the small carriage house that had been converted into an apartment. I was nineteen when she passed away at the ripe age of ninety-seven, and Mom and Micah had stayed in the house for a few more years before declaring she was ready for something smaller.
I hadn’t wanted to lose the memories we’d formed there, so I bought it from Mom and decided to stay. The elaborate gardens that Sylvia had started decades ago were still thriving, thanks to the green thumb she’d instilled in me. The carriage house apartment was still at the back of the property, as was the tree house Micah built for me when I was little. The walls inside had been repainted, but only because the original bright, vibrate colors had faded, and I wanted to freshen them up. The peacock greens and other jewel tones scattered across the walls might not have been other peoples’ style, but it was definitely mine.
I’d loved this house from the time I was four years old, and I couldn’t imagine wanting to live anywhere else.
“You know,” Mom started, pulling my attention from the lion I’d just found in a big cumulus cloud, “I was talking to Danithe other day. She was telling me that Hardin’s divorce is nearly finalized.”
I let out a groan and squeezed my eyes closed, knowing exactly where this was going. “God, Mom,” I whined, sounding like a bratty teenager. “Don’t start on this again.Please.”
Dani, or Danika Drake, was the owner of Muffin Top and another close, personal friend of my mother’s. If she and Mom had been discussing her stepson’s recent divorce, it could only mean one thing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said innocently. “I’m not starting anything. Just trying to make conversation with my daughter. Is that so bad?”
I rolled my eyes at the sky and sent up a silent prayer for patience. “It is when you think you’re being all sneaky while trying to fix me up.” I rolled over onto my side, pushing up on my elbow and propping my head on my hand. “The problem with trying to set me up with your friends’ kids is that we all basically grew up together, Mom. I know Hardin.” He was a great guy, no doubt about that, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I would ever date him. My nose scrunched up and my teeth curled. “It would be like trying to date my brother.”
She mimicked my position and reached across our mats to brush a tendril of hair off my forehead. “I just want to make sure you aren’t lonely, love bug. That’s all. You haven’t dated anyone in forever.”
“I’ve dated,” I cried in offense.
