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

Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

IVY

“So you’ve picked a venue?” I glance at Ember before turning onto her street.

“Yeah. It’s bigger than I wanted. But I’ll just deal with it.”

I snort out a laugh. “That’s what she said.”

“I walked into that one,” Ember replies with an eye roll. She leans forward in her seat, scrutinizing the area ahead of us. “What are Opal and Gail doing hiding in the hedges?” She scrunches the side of her mouth as I park outside her apartment. “Are they pointing a hose at that old lady?”

My head falls onto the steering wheel with a groan. Ember doesn’t look away, tapping my arm while I try to gather the energy to deal with this. “Hey, why does that look like your Gran?”

“Because it is my Gran.” I lift my head and sigh.

“ Oh. Well, this is about to get interesting.”

“Yup.”

I slink out of the car, crouch-walking to join the mischief sisters behind the hedge. They’re not related, but it’s the nickname they’ve acquired around the neighborhood .

“What are you two doing?” my voice comes out in a harsh whisper.

“Shaquile O’Neal!” Opal hisses, except she pronounces it sha-qweel. “Ivy June! I nearly peed myself!”

“You peed yourself when you squatted down, don’t blame it on her. Hey, Ivy, dear.” Gail leans forward, smiling at me like we’re sitting down for tea instead of skulking behind the bushes.

“Semantics.” Opal waves and re-aims her hose at Gran, who’s trotting dangerously close to some begonias.

“Whatever you’re about to do—as much as I know you’re entitled to this— please don’t do it. I’ll explain in a minute.”

“But—”

“Please?”

“Oh, fine ,” Opal grumbles, her eyes rolling skyward. “Just when the fun was about to start.”

I pop out from behind the hedges, hustling to intercept Gran’s pilfering little fingers.

“Gran!” I speed walk closer, pasting on a smile. “Hi! What—uh, what are you doing over here?” I’m praying she gives a perfectly innocent explanation for basically trespassing. But knowing Gran, that’s not very likely.

“Oh, I’m on a walk, deciding which flower to pick today. What are you doing here?” Her eyes crinkle when the corners of her mouth pull up.

Opal shimmies out from behind her blind. “Hah! We have witnesses now, Agnes! You admitted to it in broad daylight!”

Ember moves to stand beside them, grimacing in silent apology.

I turn my eyes to Gran, wordlessly begging her to plead her innocence. But the woman loves a bit of drama, and I’m now fully convinced she’s known what she’s been doing all along.

“Did you say Gran ?” Gail interjects .

I’m amazed I could keep this secret as long as I have. “Surprise!” I reply with a laugh that goes on a bit too long.

“Nah-uh. There’s no way Ivy is related to that hussy.”

“Opal!” Ember chides.

Gran’s hands raise to her hips in a challenge as she spears Opal with her gaze. “It’s true, and I’m only taking back what I’m owed—with interest.”

“What in Shaq’s shoe are you talking about, Agnes?” Opal huffs.

Gran arches a brow, her smug smile faltering ever so slightly. “I know you floozies still have it.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Opal folds her arms across her chest. “I told you this fifteen years ago, Agnes, and I’ll tell you again. We don’t have the damned thing! We bought it fair and square, and a month later, it was gone. Makes me think it was you who stole it from us .”

Gran is still except for a slight narrowing of her eyes. “You really don’t have it?”

“Okay, hold up!” I wave my hands at everyone. “How was I not aware you’ve known each other this long?”

Gran’s posture is rigid as she sniffs. “Cause it’s something I’d like to forget,”

“What’s this all about?” Ember scratches her forehead.

“It’s a misunderstanding after a bit of tipsy carelessness, really.” Gail grimaces, her eyes squinting as her gaze touches each of us.

“I’m gonna need more than that, Gail,” I prompt.

“Right. Well, years ago, Oliver, your Pop, had this genius idea to get rid of stuff and pretty up the place while Agnes was away for a week. There was also a community-wide rummage sale at the church that weekend. Oliver set out a bunch of knickknacks, Opal and I saw the music box in the pile, and we bought it. ”

“ My music box?” I frown, turning to Gran.

She nods, a touch of sadness and nostalgia making her eyes shine. “Pop, bless his grumpy ass, had a good heart, but he had his head in the clouds sometimes.”

“Ivy, love, we didn’t know it was to be yours.” Gail’s eyebrows draw together. “Goodness, we didn’t even know you , then. Anyway, we bought it, and a month later, we came home to find one of the back windows had been jimmied open, and the music box was gone.” She turns to Gran with a small lift of her shoulders. “We would’ve given it back to you eventually, Agnes. We were just yanking your chain, hanging on to it.”

“Well, it’s hard to take the word of a couple saboteurs,” Gran fires back, giving Gail the stink eye.

“That was purely accidental,” Gail adds before turning to me. “I poured a failed homemade rum recipe out near the community garden one night, after a bit too much of the real stuff. You know how it goes.” I don’t, but I nod anyway. This is like an episode of D esperate Geriatrics , with all the drama of a housewives reality show, except with muumuus. “It’s possible I got a bit lost,” Gail continues. “And the Best Buds trophy went to someone else that year.”

I bring my hand up to massage my forehead, my eyes pinching shut. “Hang on.” I hold up a palm. “This competition was called Best Buds ?”

“Told you it was a dumb name,” Gail whispers to Opal, and they exchange elbow nudges before Opal looks over to me. “Can we get back to the fact that your grandmother keeps stealing our flowers?” She fists her hands on her hips as she glares at Gran. “Grow your own flowers, Agnes!”

“If you’ll apologize for sabotaging my flowers,” Gran adds, straightening her shoulders. “I’ll refrain from decorating my home with your mediocre flora.”

I let my head fall back and groan. Ember steps forward to herd Opal and Gail together, as if they’ll be easier to influence once they’re contained.

“I’m sure Opal and Gail are only too happy to oblige and put this all behind us, right?” She spears them with crazy eyes.

“If it untwists Miss Hoity Toity’s panties, then, fine. We’re sorry for something we can’t even remember doing.”

Gran grunts in response, folding her arms and apparently accepting the apology.

“Great, okay.” Ember smiles, ushering everyone with her hands. “Gail, I can smell cake, so I’m guessing you have something to take out of the oven? Mrs. Marsh, lovely to see you.”

I wave Carl over to retrieve my mischief-making grandmother, my shoulders finally relaxing when he heads our way, throwing me a thumbs up.

“Love you, Gran! I’ll visit soon.”

“You’d better. And bring that boyfriend over. I need his measurements,” she replies.

My jaw slackens as I turn to ask why, but Ember catches me and pulls me inside.

“You can find out what that’s about later. We need tea.”

Opal and Gail have shuffled into their apartment, unhappy with Ember for postponing their questions about my heritage.

“Maybe we should go over there. I feel bad about ditching them.”

Ember snorts while she unlocks her door. “They have each other, and you’re not ditching them. We planned to hang out just the two of us, so they’re none the wiser.”

“But Gail looked so sad.”

“It’s not sadness, it’s cake anxiety. She’ll be fine.”

“Where’s Nicolas?” I scan the room, looking for Ember’s weirdo cat.

“I think he has a girlfriend.” She wiggles her brows while filling the kettle.

“Aw! He’s out canoodling with a lady cat?”

“That’s my suspicion. Anyway, how’s the house coming along? I’m sorry I’ve been too busy with all this wedding stuff to stop by. My mom is driving me crazy. Ugh ! See? There I go again. Enough about me. Tell me how it’s been working with Ethan.”

“Oh, it’s been fine.” I’m trying my hardest to maintain a neutral tone, but I can already feel my cheeks heating as I recall my last conversation with a shirtless Ethan.

“ Fine ? You haven’t tried to murder one other?”

“Is the tea ready?” I gesture to the stove as I walk to the kitchen. I don’t quite know how to explain that I’ve been wanting to behead the butthead a lot less in the past few days. “He’s been away, so I haven’t gotten close enough to attempt homicide lately. Lucky him.” I force a laugh and pour water into the two mugs Ember set out.

I lower the teabags into our cups, and when I look up, Ember’s squinting at me.

“Okayyyy. And how’s Toby?”

“Toby’s great.” I reply honestly, because he is. He’s an incredibly reliable friend—one I can trust not to leave me.

And while I’m truly happy that things are happening for Ethan, Facetiming with him from a different city only served to highlight his transient soul. That’s a really fun trait, but it’s also one of the biggest reasons I can’t allow myself to get too close to him. I’ve had too much experience with people letting me down or leaving, and that’s exactly what I foresee happening once I get attached to Ethan and his overprotective grumpiness.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating him. I did not see that happening between you two.” Ember walks to the sofa with her tea.

I shrug and fake a smile. And as if Ethan’s giant ego could sense I’ve been thinking about him, a text comes through on my phone.

Ethan

Still got those brownies waiting for me?

No . Because I’m a chronic people pleaser, I gave yesterday’s batch to Carl. I was planning to bake a fresh batch for Ethan in Ember’s oven.

I respond with a GIF of Jim Halpert making an indecisive face.

Ethan

Fine. but you created an expectation. I take my desserts very seriously.

Why is this flirty side of him bringing a goofy smile to my lips?

We just had this conversation, Ivy.

I respond with another GIF of a thumbs up. I’m usually very chatty over text, even though I get a little anxious about autocorrect not catching all my spelling errors. But the opportunity to test the extent of Ethan’s patience has me holding back. I want to see if he’ll work for it.

“Oh my gosh.” Ember’s voice brings me back. “Are you texting Toby right now? Look at your face! You look just like I did a few months ago, sitting on this couch and texting Colton while you made fun of my love eyes.”

“ Love eyes? I don’t love him!” I blurt out, forgetting for a second that she’s referring to Toby and not Ethan.

“Defensive much?” She eyes me suspiciously over the rim of her mug. I hate lying to my best friend. But this Toby thing is supposed to appear casual. No one can get too invested, friends included. If I were to tell Ember the truth, I’d open up a whole can of worms and be forced to tell her about everything else, including lying to Gran to get the house, Ross’s money troubles, and my being homeless. But she doesn’t need more stress. The woman gets enough of that from her mother.

I’ll come clean after her wedding.

I manage to redirect the conversation to her wedding plans—an easy distraction. Planning my best friend’s special day is one of my greatest delights. But I’m admittedly piling more tasks onto my growing to-do lists—both personal and professional.

Just keep that lid on tight, Ivy June.