The Ivy House - By Drea Stein Page 0,37

I have some iced tea on ice. Want some?”

Lynn nodded and Phoebe led her towards the kitchen. Here, she had already cleaned, and as much as possible, the space gleamed. Phoebe had hit the village supermarket, which was geared towards boaters, and had purchased a Styrofoam cooler, ice, drinks, a sandwich, and some snacks. Paper plates, cups, napkins, and plastic utensils were set out on the wooden table that she had decided to keep. Already, she was imagining the kitchen painted a warm cream, with new curtains, new appliances, and the cracked linoleum removed to reveal something wonderful, like the wide-board wood flooring beneath.

“I found this on my mom’s bookshelf.” Lynn thumped something on the table and Phoebe looked over from where she was pouring.

“I haven’t seen that in ages,” Phoebe said, glancing at the cover of the book Lynn had brought. It was Savannah’s autobiography.

“I would have thought you had an autographed copy.” Lynn said, taking the paper cup Phoebe handed her.

“No way. The critics panned it and it wasn’t exactly a best seller. I am not sure they ever printed that many to begin with. I think it was just another flop that Savannah decided to ignore.

“Oh, well, my mom loved it. Read it over and over again. As if you couldn’t tell.”

“Really?” Phoebe took her paper cup and pulled out the other chair, sitting across from Lynn. “What for?”

“The good parts.” Lynn dropped her voice. “Full disclosure. I went through a Savannah Ryan phase too—I mean my mom made me watch all the movies, so I actually read the book too and wow. That’s all I’ve got to say.”

“You mean she talked about that?” Phoebe dropped her voice too. Suddenly the thought of her grandmother doing that was grossing her out.

“Well, not in detail. But I could read between the lines. That’s probably why she didn’t want you to read it. It seemed like she bedded half of Hollywood before she took on the East Coast blue bloods.”

Phoebe reached across the table and pulled the book towards her. As Lynn had promised, it was dog-eared and worn, the paper cover faded. She looked at the face of her grandmother staring up at her from the cover. It had been a long time since Savannah Ryan had looked like that.

“You really do look a bit like her, you know,” Lynn said.

Phoebe looked up and almost pushed the book away. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I have more of my mom in me.” She tried to keep her voice casual. Red-blond hair, blue eyes, the same sort of cheekbones. Sure, there were similarities, but Savannah Ryan had been breathtaking, with emerald-green eyes and a voluptuous figure, a true crowd-stopping beauty. She had been every inch a movie star.

“Besides, looks aren’t everything. They didn’t exactly guarantee her happiness,” Phoebe pointed out. Her grandmother had died alone, leaving behind a string of lovers, but no one besides Phoebe to share her love with. When all you had were looks, it was hard to deal well with the passage of time.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind being compared to her every now and then.” Lynn laughed, a full, hearty laugh that echoed through the relative emptiness of the house.

“Like when she played Helen in that movie about Troy?” Phoebe asked.

“Or when she was the gangster bad girl. Now that was hot.”

Phoebe smiled and though she wasn’t sure why she said it, she did. “I have the jacket.”

“You mean the leather one with the buckles.” Lynn’s eyes went round and she reached out and gripped Phoebe’s hand.

“Please?”

Phoebe laughed. “It’s in storage, but I promise, as soon as I can, I’ll get it. You can try it on and play cops and robbers.”

“You’re amazing. That would be so cool. And to show you how grateful I am, how about you come over later and we can hang out? My parents are heading out for the weekend and we’d have the house to ourselves. You can stay in the spare bedroom, check out of the hotel? I mean, I don’t think you’re quite ready to move in here, even with my futon.”

“A slumber party?” Phoebe asked, laughing.

“Come on, you’re never too old for them. Trust me, it will be fun. My mom will even leave something for us to eat.”

“Deal.” Mrs. Masters really was a great cook.

Phoebe flipped to the center section of the book where there were photographs on thick paper. She leafed through them until she found the ones she was looking for. Savannah