Page 12 of Sweet Love at Bayside
They walked across the brick patio in front of the cottages. It was even more overrun with weeds than Desiree had thought. She made a mental note to spend some time weeding. If she had to be there, at least she could make it pretty.
“I just don’t like jerks.”
Something in the way Violet said it told Desiree she was being protective, as Rick had suggested. She wanted to tell Vi that worrying was nice, it was sisterly, and it warmed her to her core, but they didn’t have that type of relationship. And she didn’t want Violet thinking she needed protecting.
Instead, she said, “Thanks, but I’m a pretty good judge of character. I can handle myself.”
“I’m sure you can.” Violet smiled, and said, “Rick?” with a breathless lilt, hands pressed over her heart. “Oh, broad-shouldered, shirtless god who got me wet, how did you find me?”
“Ohmygosh.” Desiree laughed. “I didnotsound like that.”
“Whatevs, sis. You totally got that take-me-every-which-way look, and if he’s a jerk, you might be blinded by his take-me eyes and enormous…muscles.” She waggled her brows.
“He does have incredibly sensual eyes, and nice muscles.” Desiree turned her attention to the cute yellow cottage so her sister couldn’t see the flush heating her cheeks as she thought about therestof Rick’s tempting body.
“I meant his enormoustrouser snake,” Vi said. “Come on. Let’s see what good old Lizza has been up to.”
Still reeling from her sister’s dirty mind, Desiree tried to focus on the hand-painted vines of orange and purple flowers on the sign above the door, which read,DEVI’S DISCOVERIES. But now all she could think about was the feel of that part of his body against her belly this morning, when he’d held her like he was going to, as Emery had said, turn her inside out with his kisses.
She cleared her throat in a futile attempt to suppress the heat crawling up her thighs. Needing something to think about other than the way Rick’s lips felt soft and hard at once on her cheek, and the way her body had ignited at his touch, she stared at the front of the cottage.
A small chalkboard hung beside the door, and read,HOURS: WHEN THE FEELING HITS, I’M HERE.So very Lizza. Desiree glanced up at the sign above the door again. “Does ‘Devi’ have a special meaning I don’t know about?”
“Yeah. The mother of all goddesses. Thesupremegoddess,” Violet said with a hint of sarcasm.
That was enough to slap Desiree back to reality. Did their mother think she was a goddess of everything? “Maybe she should have gone with a goddess of forgetfulness or travel.” Desiree crouched to pet Cosmos, feeling a kinship to the abandoned pup.
A moment later, her nerves sprang to life when she stepped inside the cottage, feeling their mother’s presenceeverywhere. Knotty hardwood floors were covered with speckles of paint and stuck-on clay. Yellow walls and white trim led up to exposed and painted rafters, all of which were in need of a fresh coat of paint. On the far wall, built-in bookshelves displayed clay vases, bowls, and pictures their mother had painted. A number of tables were covered with hand-painted cards, shells, and driftwood. Paintings hung from the walls and were set on easels scattered throughout the shop. Their mother’s signature,Lizza V, with an overly scriptedL, stood out in bold yellow in the lower right corner of each painting.
Desiree worked her way around the room, inspecting each of her mother’s art pieces. The paintings were a bit abstract, but there was a consistent theme of women of all ages, and objects. One woman held a raggedy teddy bear, and in another painting, a little girl was crouched beside a tree, playing with a black ant the size of a cat. It was a little creepy, and strangely sweet. “Do you really think she sells anything?”
“I went into the den and looked over her sales receipts. She’s been making a lot of money over the past six months, which is surprising, since it was winter and the lower Cape isn’t exactly a booming metropolis in the colder months.” Violet reached for a paper tag hanging off one of the paintings and showed Desiree the figure written on it.
She nearly choked. “Twenty-three hundred dollars?”
“She’s always gotten a lot for her paintings, but she left behind so many. I’ve never known her to have this much stock. The clay pieces, too. Usually she made just enough to get by. She must have been planning this trip for a while.”
“Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake? Is it so hard for people to tell the truth? Why would she do this to us?” Desiree ground her teeth together to keep her anger from tumbling out. “She plans a trip to rejuvenate her soul and leaves us here to figure out the life she’s left behind? It’s emotional blackmail, holding Grandma’s house over our heads like this.”
“It’sLizza.” Violet walked to the far side of the cottage. “You grew up with a father who went to work every day from nine to five and was there on the weekends to take you to art lessons, dance, music—”
“I didn’t take art lessons,” she corrected her.
“What?” Violet’s jaw dropped open. “You were incredibly talented, even as a little girl. Why did you stop?”
Desiree shrugged, not wanting to argue. She’d stopped drawing and painting in an effort to sever what few similarities she had to her mother. Instead, she focused on doing the exact opposite of what her mother might do at all times. The last thing she wanted was to become someone who could walk away from her child, and in her mind, any similarities could lead to that.
“Whatever the reason,” Violet said angrily, “it was a mistake. I’d have given anything to havehalfyour talent.”
“What are you talking about? You used to make those gorgeous batik wall hangings, clothes, and pottery. I could never do any of that. I can barely sew.” She sighed, reining in her angst and trying to come up with a plan. “What do you think? How do we figure out hours?”
Violet glanced at her, then back at the paintings. “You’re really going to stay?”
“It would give us time to get to know each other.” She couldn’t deny that Rick had more than piqued her interest, too, but she wasn’t about to tell Violet that. She didn’t want her to think that was the only reason she was staying.
“We could split the hours. You take a day, I take a day, or morning and afternoon? But I’m not great at schedules. So…” Violet flashed a smile so genuine Desiree wanted to scoop it up and put it in her pocket for the times when they argued.
“I live by schedules,” Desiree admitted.
