The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,17
breeze ruffling her hair and the gentle lap of the waves in the background, she felt absorbed, and a plan, one that included the house and her dream, began to take shape.
Phoebe had been so caught up, she’d looked up in surprise when Lynn found her, sitting on the low stone wall, sketching the way the setting sun purpled the sky. It was just a way to capture the colors around her, the way everything seemed so bright and vibrant.
“Ready for dinner?” Lynn had asked cheerfully, and Phoebe realized she was. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the idea of a home-cooked meal was definitely appealing. Gathering all her stuff, she shoved it into her bag, jumped up and stretched.
“Do you ever get tired of it?” she asked Lynn as they both looked over the bluff and toward the water.
Lynn sighed. “No, not really. I know that I’ll have to move out soon and I’ll miss it, but maybe someday I’ll find my way back here.”
Phoebe had lived close to an ocean all her life, but there was something soothing and calm about this harbor, the way the bluffs were like arms encircling you in a hug, the simple beauty of lights twinkling in the windows of the houses that ringed the shore. It was comforting, she decided, as she and Lynn walked through a break in the privet hedge that separated the houses.
Phoebe was welcomed into the Masters’ home as if she’d grown up there. As promised, Mrs. Masters, who was a doctor as well, was an excellent cook. She was also a huge Savannah fan. Mrs. Masters was just as open and friendly as Lynn and the pasta fra diavolo was so good that Phoebe decided she didn’t mind supplying all the information Mrs. Masters was after.
Lynn’s father, also a doctor and chief of the local hospital, drifted off to watch a baseball game right around the time Phoebe started to give details about Savannah’s eating habits. It was after the mixed-berry pie à la mode that Lynn had to put a stop to all of her mom’s questioning and declared that she and Phoebe were going out on their own.
“These margaritas are delicious,” Phoebe said, taking a sip. She and Lynn were down in the village at a place called Augie’s. It was different from the Osprey Arms, with a younger, more fun crowd. There were a few families finishing up their dinner, but mostly it was couples and singles, groups of people at tables, some people milling about by a pool table. There was even a jukebox; someone popped in a new song, and people were starting to dance.
“It feels so good to get out,” Lynn said, her dark hair curling around her delicate face. They were leaned up against the bar, so she was swaying to the music and sipping her drink.
“It must be tough, all the hours you put in,” Phoebe said, also feeling herself starting to sway to the music. It was a nice atmosphere, totally low-key, but fun, and even though she was stuffed from Mrs. Masters’ meal, she was eyeing the potato skins someone had ordered a few chairs down.
“Well, at least there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. One more year and I’ll be a real doctor. I am so excited. It’s been a long slog. College, medical school, then residency. But it will all be worth it,” Lynn said. Phoebe thought she detected a note of wistfulness in Lynn’s voice.
“What do you think you want to do?” Phoebe asked. She had known a few doctors in Los Angeles, mostly plastic surgeons or dermatologists. Not bad people, but they were always working an angle once they found out who she was, trying to see if Savannah would be interested in endorsing them. One guy had even gone so far as to promise Phoebe some “free work” if she could get Savannah to recommend him.
“Well, my dad knows a few people who would be happy to bring me into their practice. Or I could get a job at the hospital. Since he’s the chief of staff there, it might be a little weird though, you know, like everyone would think I only got the job because of him.”
Phoebe shook her head. “In Los Angeles, it’s all about who you know. No one would think twice of using any connection they could to get ahead. My last boyfriend was an actor.” She thought briefly of Garrett and the way photographers