Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,14
Never again would I let someone mold me into their version of Hayden.
“Is she down?” Sylvia asked, closing her sudoku book as I pulled out the chair across from her and took a seat.
“Yeah, finally.”
She reached for the drink shaker beside her and poured the concoction into an empty glass she had waiting, then slid it in my direction. I lifted it up and took a sip, already knowing what it was. My great-aunt drank a Tom Collins every single night before bed. The sweet, lemony flavor burst on my tongue, followed by a slight burn the gin left behind as I swallowed and let out a heavy sigh.
“She really loved the teal walls and the butterfly canopy over the scrolled iron headboard. It took forever for her excitement to wear off so I could get her to sleep.”
Sylvia smiled. “I’d like to say I did that just for her, but that room’s looked like that for as long as I can remember.”
I giggled and sucked back more of my drink. “I don’t doubt that for a second.”
My aunt studied me as she sipped her cocktail. “You know, you’re more than welcome to make this place your own, sweets. I told you, this is yours now. Feel free to change whatever you want.”
In the hours Ivy and I had been here, Sylvia had already made me feel more at home in this house than I ever had in the home I’d shared with Alex. I’d expected Ivy and I would get the guest rooms upstairs, but after hauling everything in and starting to unpack, Sylvia told me the master bedroom was all mine. She’d already had someone come and move her into the carriage house she’d converted to a small apartment years ago at the back of the property. She used to rent the space out, but it had been empty for a while.
“Really, Sylvia, I can’t thank you enough for taking us in, but you moving into the carriage house really wasn’t necessary. I’d have been more than happy making one of the guestrooms my own.”
She waved me off like I was being ridiculous. “Nonsense. It was the most logical choice. I’ve been struggling with those stairs for quite some time now, and this house is too damn big for me. I’m sick and tired of having to clean it. Honestly, sweets, you’re doin’ me a favor. I’m not as young as I used to be. My soul might feel like a fresh-faced twenty-something, but my bones refuse to get onboard.”
She liked to talk as though she was feeling run down, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind the woman could run circles around me. “Haven’t you heard? Eighty-three is the new thirty.”
She scoffed, lifting one of her perfectly penciled brows. “Tell that to my hips and knees. I was doing yoga in the garden the other day and nearly got stuck in downward-facing dog.”
I laughed for a good long while at the vivid image she’d painted. Once it tapered off, I looked across the table to find her studying me, her eyes shrewd. “What?”
“Nothing. Just glad you’re still able to laugh like that after everything.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling thick. “Laugh like what?”
“With abandon, my darlin’ girl. A woman gets knocked down the way you did, she could lose that. Puts my heart at ease that you’ve managed to hold on to it with all the ups and downs of late.”
God, I loved my aunt. Not for the first time I thought of how much my family was missing by regarding Sylvia as nothing more than a nutty hippy spinster. Was she a little nutty? Absolutely. However, she was more bohemian than hippy. And she wasn’t a spinster. Far from it, actually. My aunt had her “lovers” tucked away for whenever the need arose, but she lived her life on her own terms and never felt the need for a man to be a permanent fixture. It was an arrangement that worked well for all parties involved.
And she was so incredibly wise, always had been. Our flesh and blood were missing out on the wisdom she could impart.
I loved that she had faith in me, but I wasn’t sure if I deserved all of it. I watched my finger as I traced the rim of my glass, mumbling, “Yeah, well, it’s all because of Ivy. I might be rocking in a corner somewhere if she wasn’t around for me to take care of.”