Writing On The Wall (The King Brothers Duology #2)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

IVY

I come to a full stop at a traffic light, tapping my thumb on the steering wheel. I’m on my way to see Gran, but there’s time to kill until she’s done with her bingo game at five.

I told Ethan I’d crash with Opal and Gail, so I should at least pay them a visit, even if I don’t plan on allowing my mess to spill into their lives. It helps that they live in the apartment complex opposite Gran’s retirement village, and I know they’ll feed me—that being one of their love languages.

I smile at the vibrant surge of color as my car glides into the parking lot in front of the charming apartments where I first met my best friend Ember’s seventy-year-old neighbors. Pots and planter boxes overflow with flowers, as if a riot of colors has burst forth and refuses to be confined.

I lock my house-car, letting out a heavy sigh as I walk up the path to Gail and Opal’s apartment.

“Knock knock!” I call through the open door.

“Ivy June?” I hear Opal’s voice from inside the apartment.

“That’s me! ”

“We weren’t expecting you today! Did you come to see Ember?” she smiles as she approaches.

“Oh, nah,” I wave with a laugh. “I know she technically still lives next door, but she’s definitely with Colton when she’s not at work. How’re you two doin’, though?”

“Pretty good,” she squints at something behind me. “But that Robin keeps crapping in my rain gauge.”

I love it when old people cuss. Can I call “crapping” a cuss word?

“Ivy!” Gail claps triumphantly behind Opal. “You’re just in time to try the top secret new cake recipe I’ve been working on.” She scuttles off, and Opal turns to me with an eye roll.

“The secret is still rum,” she grumbles before her veiny hand pats my shoulder affectionately. “Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

“Gail! Put the kettle on!” she hollers. Then her eyes lock onto mine, like she’s seen something, a crack in my mask. Those same kind eyes narrow, searching deeper, and I hold my breath.

“You’re not sleeping well.”

“Yup.”

That small word is all I manage while we walk to the living room to sink into well-loved floral printed chairs. If I say more or attempt to deny anything, Opal’s laser gaze will only sharpen and cause me to spill my guts. The whole ugly truth will be laid bare.

Unfortunately, I don’t escape her scrutiny. “Brother or Gran?”

“Brother.” My shoulders straighten while I inspect my nails on my lap.

“Hmph. That boy needs a good dose of tough love, Ivy June.”

My head snaps up, and my jaw drops. My parents, bless their hearts, gave him the toughest love possible when they cut ties with him a year ago. But I keep thinking he needs a gentler approach this time. So help me God, I will see him on the right path.

“Ross is a good person. He just needs someone to believe in him.”

“Honey, if you believe in him any more, he’ll grow wings and start flying.”

Thankfully, Gail shuffles in and saves me from further defending my brother.

“Oh, I’m so glad you stopped by. Tell me if you can guess the secret ingredient. No spoilers.” She flares her eyes at Opal.

“Visiting your Gran after this?” Gail’s face softens while she pours tea into three dainty teacups.

“Yup.”

“We’ll have to meet her someday.”

Opal humphs, folding her hands in her lap. “Hopefully she hasn’t been influenced by that old bat, Agnes. That woman is a menace.”

“Hmm,” I hum over a bite of cake, brushing over her last comment. “This is delicious, Gail.”

“Oh good. I’ll send some home with you.”

Opal smacks her tongue, one eye narrowing. “A bit too heavy-handed on the rum, maybe.”

“Oh nonsense, a little rum never killed anyone. Besides, you have to die of something. ”

“She’s right.” I look at Opal with a finger pointed toward Gail.

Another eye roll. That must be why she can peer into my soul. Her eyes have been training for marathons with all the cartwheels they do.

I soak in their banter along with the cozy atmosphere of their apartment, trying to store up warmth for the uncomfortable night I have ahead of me .

“This was perfect. Thanks for the booze cake, Gail. Never disappoints.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart. Wait a minute so I can wrap some up for you.”

Gail leaves us, and I’m once again the focus of Opal’s eagle-eyed stare, her eyes glistening with concern. “You’re hiding something, and I’m going to figure it out, young lady.”

My throat tightens slightly as I try to come up with something that will convince her that everything is fine. Thankfully, I’m saved when Gail shuffles back, oblivious to my internalized panic.

“Here you go.” Gail returns with a saran-wrapped slice of heaven. “You shouldn’t need to put it in the fridge till tomorrow.”

That won’t be a problem seeing as I currently have no fridge.

I hug them goodbye before either of them can question me further. Their sassy, petite frames bracket the doorway after I rush out.

“Watch the st?—”

But it’s too late. I nearly faceplant after tripping on the step Gail was attempting to warn me about. By some miracle, my wedges only wobble, and I manage to right myself.

“I’m okay!” I wave back. Gail is hiding a laugh behind her hand while Opal’s arms are folded, eyes still narrowed too perceptively.

“I’m leaving my car here. Don’t let your robin poop on it!” I yell.

“I’ll protect your car if you find that Agnes and tell her to quit stealing my azaleas!”

“You got it.” I throw up a thumb but secretly vow to prevent that from happening at all costs.

I cross the road and stop by the security booth to sign in. Carl smiles widely when I skip closer. I trade him the wrapped plate for a clipboard, and he hums with delight.

“Miss Ivy, marry me?”

“You’re a few decades too late, Carl. But the nice lady who baked that cake is single.”

He leans over to peer across the road behind me. “Single huh?”

“As single as they come,” I confirm once I finish signing in.

“Ayep…that’s how they getcha.”

“With cake?”

“That’s how it starts.” He nods absently.

Definitely some wounds there.

“Hey, any luck with the?—”

“Nope,” I respond before he can remind me I’m still homeless.

“Well, you just let me know when you’re ready.”

“I will.” I smile gratefully.

“Word is your Gran was on another one of her Bingo streaks.”

“You sure she wasn’t cheating again?”

“You never know with that one,” he replies with amusement.

“Thanks, Carl.” I laugh and return the clipboard.

Once I reach Gran’s apartment, I shake my head at her name printed in swirling letters on her door.

Agnes Christine Marsh

Opal and Gail might actually bury me alive when they find out my Gran is the “ old bat ” who keeps stealing their flowers. I should talk to her about that.

She seemed unaware of her crimes when I last mentioned it, which makes me question whether she requires more extensive care. What if she’s experiencing cognitive decline? My parents are off on their travels again, building clean water sources in Nepal or wherever they’ve ended up this time, while I’m left holding our family together—and not very well. I don’t know if I have the strength to continue shouldering this much responsibility.

I’m clearly failing with Ross…and myself.

I knock and enter to find Gran reclining in a wingback chair and paging through a gardening magazine. A vase of azaleas rests on the table beside her.

“My Ivy!” she croons when she spots me. I smile at the familiar eyes that disappear when she laughs and the hairstyle that’s remained unchanged since the seventies.

“Hey Gran. I missed you!”

“Oh, I missed you too, honey. So sweet of you and Ross to visit on the same day.”

I blink. “Wh—uh—Ross visited you?”

“He brought me a picture. Oh, where did I put that thing now?” She rises and shuffles around the room, searching through various bits of clutter.

Frik. My fingers trace the edge of my lips. It’s worse than I thought. She thinks Ross is still a child. I need to tell Mom and Dad. I can’t be the only one dealing with this.

“It’s okay, Gran, you can show me later. Why don’t you sit, and I’ll get us some water?”

She straightens, turning to me with a hand on her hip. “Ivy June. Don’t patronize me just because I have to eat extra fiber every day.”

She smiles softly and holds out a folded piece of paper, and I hesitate to take it.

“Why would Ross bring you a photo of this?” I frown, staring at the image of a music box—my favorite music box. The one I spent hours winding up and listening to as a child. I’d curl up next to the side table where it resided, watching in wonder while the mechanism turned and the little bird inside flapped its wings and sang along with the music.

“Oh, I imagine he’s figured out it’s valuable.” She straightens some of the clutter before pausing for a few seconds, a small sigh making her chest rise and fall. Then her head snaps up sharply as something like hope sparks in her eyes. “You didn’t find it, did you?”

I frown. “I haven’t seen it in years. You don’t know where it is?”

“Oh, it’s a long story.” She bats a hand dismissively. “But no, I don’t know where it is. I’ve been hoping it’ll show up somewhere. But don’t you tell that brother of yours anything about it,” she adds sternly. “That boy is up to no good.”

I may be the lone member on Team Ross these days , but knowing he’d probably sell the heirloom makes me determined not to mention it. Even if I haven’t thought about the music box in years, the happy memories it evokes make it priceless.

“Besides, if that box ever shows up, it’ll belong to you ,” she whispers.

“Oh…wow. Thank you, Gran,” I choke out, more relieved to hear her mind isn’t stuck in the past than anything. Although some of her behavior is still concerning, it would be a much bigger problem if she were jumping around in time in her head.

“Lovely flowers.” I tip my head to the vase.

“Oh, aren’t they just stunning? Can you believe they grow across the road? I pick one every time I go for a stroll. Before you know it, I’ve got a bouquet.”

I nod slowly as I stare at the vase. She’s crafty, I’ll give her that. Surely she knows what she’s doing. At least, I hope she’s intentionally being mischievous.

Part of me worries Gran may be blissfully unaware of the feud she’s created between her and the feisty pair of green thumbs across the road .

“Now you sit down, and I’ll get us a little treat.”

She pats me softly on the shoulder, and I return a warm smile. “Thanks, Gran.”

My head falls back as her pastel blue loveseat pulls me in. I close my eyes for a second before the vibrating in my pocket has me reaching for my phone.

A message pops up with two photos of my face squished against Toby’s, followed by a text that has me giggling.

Toby:

#couplegoals

My fingers pinch the screen, zooming in to make sure it doesn’t look like we’re in a classroom.Then I flinch and drop the phone at the high pitched shriek from behind me.

“You have a boyfriend? Ivy June! Let me see that handsome fella!”

My grandmother hastily sets down a tray of triangle-cut sandwiches to snatch the phone from my lap and scrutinize the photos.

“He’s actually?—”

“I’m so happy for you!” she interrupts me to declare, her glistening eyes blinking down at me. My hand fidgets with my shirt collar as I stand and brace myself to clear up this misunderstanding.

“Oh, this is so wonderful,” she continues to gush at the photos. “I think you’re finally ready for the house.”

Say what, now?

“Gran, I can’t take your cottage. You’ve got tenants, remember? ”

“And they’ve finally moved out, with perfect timing! Oh, sweetheart, I’m so delighted,” she says with a hand over her heart. “Please tell me you’ll accept the house? You can get it ready now for when you and your young man get serious.” There’s so much joy in her eyes, saying no to her offer feels like denying a child their favorite candy.

“Oh…um…well…he’s?—”

“That little cottage is everything to me, and I wouldn’t trust anyone else but you to restore it. My life is in those walls. It should go to someone who cares about it as much as I do. I want you to have it, Ivy, so you can make new memories there.”

This situation is escalating pretty quickly. So why am I not objecting?

“You’re giving me a house,” I say, my eyes moving around the room as I process this gift.

She claps her palms together. “It’ll need some TLC, now. I’m afraid my last tenants got creative in their liberties. But I’ve already got money set aside for renovations. Oh, my great-grandbabies will grow up in this house!” she mimes a squeal, then fans her face, puffing air out of her mouth.

I should interject, right? Correct this little misunderstanding?

On the other hand, her state of mind could still be fragile…and she seems so happy.

“It won’t be too much will it? Taking all this on?”

I force an awkward smile. “No, um, of course not. Thank you, Gran.”

The hope blooming in her expression quickly eclipses my remorse after allowing her to make those incorrect assumptions about my current relationship status. And it’s actually kind of ideal, having a place to call home that also happens to be the setting of so many special memories. After all, Gran’s house used to be my favorite escape when life got to be too much. It was the one place where I didn’t have to keep pretending everything was perfect.

“I know it’s a lot to take on, and you’ll probably have to be frugal with the renovation budget. I’m not exactly sure how much work it needs or how far the funds will go. But it’ll be such a fun project, I’m sure!”

She looks so delighted, I can’t bring myself to dull the joy that seems to emanate from her entire being. And I feel even less guilty about accepting this gift when I remind myself that I’m the one who’s been left to deal with Ross and his many screwups. He’s always required so much attention and discipline that I had no choice but to be uncomplicated and un-needy.

A lifetime of wearing this mask and faking being okay coupled with the responsibilities I’m still shouldering have earned this. And accepting the house will solve some pretty big problems while allowing me to fulfill my sweet Gran’s dreams at the same time.

I think I can make this work. I’ll have to let Toby know our fake dating goes both ways now, but that shouldn’t be a problem.

Gran’s voice brings me back as she digs in a drawer and pulls out a file folder. “Yes, here it is.” She looks up at me. “I’ll phone my accountant in the morning. He’ll get you sorted with the financial side of things. But here’s a key to the front door, at least.” She places the key in my palm, closing her hands over mine.

“Thank you for accepting this gift, Ivy. You’re going to do such a great job.”