Love Finds You in Martha's Vineyard (28 page)

“No, it's fine to wait for Rosie. Your mother is resting nicely now. And she looks fine. But she still needs to talk to you. I don't know if they'll release her today or what the plan is. But, even so, I'll need a ride.”

“Oh, that's right. I have your car.”

“So don't hurry. Just come.”

“We'll get this stuff put away,” she said, “and I'll be there by five.”

He returned to Vivian's room, quietly chatting with her. Then, seeing she was drowsy, he focused his attention on reading more of the hospice material. She drifted off to sleep just before five, so Blake went out to the parking lot for some fresh air and to watch for Waverly and Sicily. When he spotted his car parking near the entrance, he walked over to meet them.

“Is she okay?” Waverly asked as she handed him the car keys. Her worried expression seemed to contrast with the splotch of green paint still smeared across her cheek. He resisted the urge to reach up and wipe it off.

“Yes. Vivian's fine. Just sleeping, which is probably a good thing. She's had quite a day.”

“What's wrong with her?” Sicily asked.

“That's for Vivian to explain.” He said this more to Waverly than Sicily.

“So you do know what's wrong with her then?” Waverly pressed.

“Well…” He glanced uncomfortably away.

“So you do know,” she continued. “How long have you known, Blake?”

“Look, Waverly, I've been encouraging Vivian to speak to you for some time. I actually thought this week, with Janice and Louise gone, she'd get the chance.”

“Speak to me about what?” she persisted.

“Like I said, Vivian wants to tell you herself.” He ran his hand over Sicily's hair, twisting the purple streak in his fingers. “But for some reason, it's hard for her. She sees herself as this fiercely independent and totally healthy sort of person. I don't think she likes appearing to be weak.”

“That's true enough,” Waverly admitted. “She's always been a health nut, and no one's more independent than Vivian. Good grief, she's traveled the world—lives out of the country for months at a time.”

He put a hand gently on her shoulder now. “That's all changing, and you're going to have to change the way you perceive her as well. But if you give her the chance, I know she wants to tell you what's going on with her.”

“I still can't believe she told you and not me.” Waverly pressed her lips tightly together.

“Yeah, Dad,” Sicily chimed in, “that doesn't seem fair.”

“Can't you give me a hint about what's going on?” Waverly searched his eyes.

“I want to, Waverly, but your mother made me promise. All I can say is this: go easy with her, okay? I think she might be in some kind of denial about some things. Today was probably a good wake-up call. But, most importantly, she needs to feel like she's in control of this, uh, her situation. She doesn't need anyone telling her what to do. Okay?”

“Okay…” Waverly frowned. “I called Aunt Lou. They just got home, and she was pretty worried because it looked like something was wrong at the house. Anyway, she's on her way over here to pick me up. And Vivian too, if she gets released. So you and Sicily can go home.”

“I don't mind staying.”

“It's not necessary. And Sicily probably can't go see her anyway. You guys should just head on home.”

Blake felt unneeded and dismissed. Yet he knew that Vivian was Waverly's mother, not his. “Okay, tell Vivian good-bye for me then.”

“I will. And thanks for helping her today.” Waverly started to go inside, then stopped. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Aunt Lou offered to keep Sicily while you and Janice go to the party tonight.”

He slapped his forehead. “The
party?
I totally forgot. Under the circumstances, I think I'll bow out. I never really wanted to go anyway.”

Waverly shrugged. “I guess that's up to you.” She opened her arms to Sicily now, giving her a big hug and swaying her back and forth from side to side. “Thank you so much for your help this week, Sicily. I don't know what I would've done without you.”

“Thanks. I had fun. And tell Vivian I love her,” Sicily said sweetly.

Waverly nodded. “Will do. See you guys later.”

As they got into the car, Sicily asked if Waverly was mad at him.

“What makes you think she was mad?” he asked her back.

“Because you wouldn't tell her what's wrong with Vivian.”

“Oh.”

“But I understand, Dad. If you made a promise to Vivian, it was right to keep it.”

“Thanks, sweetie. That's how I felt too.”

Of course, as he drove back home, he felt a whole slew of other things as well.

By the time Vivian finished explaining to Waverly about her stage IV ovarian cancer, they were both in tears. “But can't you do something?” Waverly demanded. “Medicine advances every time you turn around and—”

“No.” Vivian stubbornly shook her head. “This was the main reason I didn't want to tell you at first. I was afraid you'd react like this.” Then she explained how she'd already gone through chemo and radiation the previous time. “That was about four years ago,” she said sadly. “I had a bad feeling then, but I'd hoped that was the end of it. Unfortunately it wasn't.”

“You never told me.”

“No. Why should I have?”

“Because I'm your daughter.” Waverly blew her nose.

“Yes, my daughter who had just lost her husband. Why would I want to tell you that I…that I was ill?”

Waverly had no answer for this.

“I appreciate your concern, Waverly, but I refuse to spend my last days in and out of medical facilities, undergoing painful treatments that steal what quality of life there is left to me. The reason Louise and I came to Martha's Vineyard was to enjoy what's left…to spend time with you.”

“So Aunt Lou knows too?”

Vivian nodded. “Although Louise and I have had our differences over the years, she went out of her way to connect with me after Vance died. After my last diagnosis, I had to talk to someone. She was a good support system. And she reminded me of how some of our sweetest summers as children were spent at the Vineyard with our parents and suggested we come here.” She sighed. “I must admit she was right. The natural beauty of this place, the serenity, the smell of the air—it's like a form of healing in itself. Perhaps not physically…but so good for the soul.”

“That's why you wanted me to come here, to spend time with you before it was too late?”

“Yes, but I want you to understand that I did NOT mean to trick you about The Gallery, Waverly. That was a legitimate mistake.”

“So why did you and Aunt Lou buy The Gallery?”

Vivian held up her hands. “Oh, I don't know. It appeared to be a good investment. I wanted something that could provide a livelihood for you…while you were here. I suppose I hoped I might still have a few years left. I've always been an optimist.”

“You're positive that you don't?”

“According to the doctor…probably not.” Now she smiled. “But who knows?”

“What about today? What happened anyway?”

“I think maybe my electrolytes were out of whack. At first I thought I was having a heart attack, but apparently I simply fainted.” She made a sheepish smile. “It's a bit embarrassing—all the fuss I've caused everyone.”

“Well, at least it got me on the same page with you.” Waverly hesitated. “But I'm a little offended.”

Vivian appeared perplexed. “Offended? Why?”

“I can't believe you would tell Blake and not me.”

She sighed. “Blake is a good boy, Waverly. Rather, a good man. He really is quite special.”

Waverly turned to look out the window.

Now Vivian reached for her hand. “Are you saying that you're not attracted to Blake? Is that why you keep pushing him away?”

“Pushing him away?”

“Yes. You look like you're trying to keep a distance between him and you. I think you're afraid there might be something real there, and you're not ready for it. Or else you just don't like him—you know, in a romantic sort of way.” Her eyes twinkled. “He's awfully good-looking, don't you think?”

“I suppose.”

“And he's a gentleman. Something you don't see all the time in the younger generation. I personally find it rather refreshing.”

“Oh.” Waverly picked at some yellow paint under her thumbnail.

“So what is it then?”

“What is what?” Waverly looked up.

Vivian narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “Good grief, Waverly Lynn, what if I were truly on my deathbed now? Would you still clam up like this?”

Waverly blinked. “Sorry.”

“So tell me the truth.” Vivian's eyes searched hers. “Do you think there might be a future for you and Blake and his dear little Sicily? Or am I only daydreaming? We had such a lovely few days together this past week. There were moments when I felt truly hopeful for you three. But are you saying you don't feel that way?”

“I don't know how I feel.”

“So you have no feelings whatsoever for Blake?”

Waverly studied her mother now. Vivian looked so frail and vulnerable in the pale-blue hospital gown with the IV tube stuck into her arm. “You really want the truth, Vivian?”

“Of course I do.” She got a slightly coy look now. “If you tell me the truth, maybe I'll share a little secret with you too.”

“I can trust you with what I say?”

“I'm your mother, dear. If you can't trust me, who can you trust?”

Waverly nodded. “Okay, yes, I am attracted to Blake. Very much so. I was from the start. But that whole business with Janice has been kind of a bummer. It's so on and off again. He'll say he's breaking it off, and then it doesn't happen.”

“But there have been some obstacles,” Vivian pointed out. “Surely you've seen that.”

“Maybe. But even tonight, Blake is supposed to take Janice to the party and—”

“Blake mentioned that. But wasn't that to appease Janice over her smashed car? It almost sounded as if you'd offered poor Blake up as the sacrificial lamb.”

Waverly laughed. “Did he say that?”

“Not exactly. But I could tell he felt somewhat used and abused by you two women.”

“Yes, and he's a grown man who should be able to make up his own mind and deal with things in his own way.”

“But don't forget, he's also a gentleman. And he's trying to make you happy, Waverly. I know that he is.”

“By continuing a relationship with Janice?”

“Oh, Waverly, sometimes you can be very stubborn.”

Waverly laughed. “Yes, and I wonder who I get that particular trait from.”

“So, you plan to keep holding Blake at arm's length until he makes a clean break from Janice? Is that what you're saying?”

“I'm saying that until Blake and Janice resolve whatever it is that's going on between them, I'm staying out of it.” Waverly pulled out her phone now. “Fortunately I won't be going to the party tonight so I—”

“Why on earth not?” Vivian sat up in bed with wide eyes. “From what I've heard, this is going to be quite the party. You really should go.”

“No way. Not with you here in the hospital and—”

“The doctor is releasing me soon.” She gestured toward the clock. “In fact, he should've been here by now.”

“Even so, I don't want to go to the party, Vivian. I want to stay with you and—”

“I have Louise to stay with me, Waverly. If you think I invited you to Martha's Vineyard so you could play my nursemaid, you better think again. I only invited you here so that you and I could spend some quality time together. Like we did last week.”

“Even so, I don't want to go to the party anyway. It'll just be awkward. Whether he likes it or not, Blake will be stuck with Janice, and I'll be with Reggie and—”

“Do you
want
to be with Reggie?”

“He's a nice guy, Vivian. A good friend.”

“And you prefer him to Blake?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then this is what I want you to do, Waverly.” She took in a deep breath. “Now if you must, simply consider this a dying mother's last request.”

“Are you dying?” Waverly stared at her mother.

Vivian shrugged. “Eventually, yes. We are all dying, if you stop to think about it.”

“Yes, but are you really dying, I mean right now?”

“Just humor me, Waverly. I don't know how long I have in this world. And I don't know how many dying requests I'll be making.” She made a weary smile. “But I am making this one today. It's up to you whether you respect it or not.”

“Fine.” Waverly nodded. “What is it?”

“I want you to go to the party with Reggie tonight.”