Her love for all things green had carried over from her flower shop. There was a trellis covered in wisteria at the side of the house, a line of rose bushes to the left of the porch. Azaleas, butterfly bushes, hydrangeas, elephant ears, and so much more. The backyard looked much the same. Her property was, hands down, my favorite place on earth. It was like stepping into a whole new world. I’d spent hours and hours in her yard, weeding and turning soil or curling up on one of the cozy chairs or loungers she had scattered throughout.
“Mommy,” Ivy said on a wondrous breath, “it’s like a secret garden.” I threw the car in park and glanced over my shoulder, seeing my girl’s face and hands pressed against the window. “Do we get to stay here?”
“Yeah, love bug. This is our new home. You like it?”
Ivy sucked in a huge, dramatic breath before declaring in a voice so loud it nearly burst my eardrums, “I love it so much!”
“Then let’s go check it out.”
I killed the engine and pushed the car door open just as Sylvia appeared, like a brightly colored beacon amidst all the greenery.
“Yoohoo!” she called, waving an arm in the air, making her dazzling, brightly colored caftan sway in the breeze. “There they are! Welcome home, my lovelies!” She reached the edge of her walkway just as I pulled Ivy from the car.
For a woman in her early eighties, she was so full of life it practically radiated from her pores. I’d gotten my strawberry blonde hair from her, and she was obviously keeping up with regular salon visits to keep her once-natural color intact. Making my way toward her, my vision blurred as my eyes welled. The sense of relief and familiarity that washed over me was almost overwhelming.
“It’s so good to see you.” My voice radiated with emotion as I whispered into her ear, inhaling her familiar scent. She’d been using Chantilly dusting powder for as long as I could remember. I associated that fragrance with so many happy memories, and smelling it now made me smile.
“Oh, my precious girl.” She pulled back. Her fingers, slightly gnarled with age, pressed against my cheeks as she took my face in her hands. I looked down at her, seeing the many years she’d lived—enthusiastically sucking every drop of life from them—written on the soft, papery skin of her face beneath the impeccably applied makeup she wore every single day, no matter what. She’d taught me that beautiful undergarments made a woman feel sexy, even if no one was going to see them, and that there was never an excuse for a woman to go out in public without lipstick. She was of the mindset that it made you feel good to look good. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
Stepping back, she looked to my daughter, her eyes lighting up as she threw her arms out at her sides. “Come give your Auntie Sylvia a hug, darlin’ girl.”
Ivy clung to my leg, her little arms like a vise as she looked up at me, her blue eyes wide and inquisitive. I nodded reassuringly and gave her a little squeeze. “It’s okay. You’ve met Aunt Sylvia before. You were just really little, so you don’t remember.” Leaning down, I whispered conspiratorially, “She’s my most favorite aunt in the whole wide world.”
That did it. Letting me go, she ran the distance between me and Sylvia and wrapped her arms as far around her middle as they’d go. “Hi, Auntie Siva! I’m Ivy!”
My great-aunt smiled down at her, running her fingers through my girl’s pale red curls. “I know, darlin’ girl. I actually planted some ivy near the back porch just for you the day you were born. Would you like to see it?”
Ivy gasped and shouted, “Yeah!” She latched onto one of Sylvia’s hands and looked back at me. “Come on, Mommy.”
“You two go explore. I’m gonna start unloading the car.”
Sylvia gave me a wink, knowing I needed Ivy occupied while I tried to get our stuff into the house. My girl would insist on helping, which would take twice as long. “Come on, precious. There’s a lot to explore. Better get started before we lose the sun.”
I watched as my aunt guided my daughter around the side of the house and out of sight. Then I went about unloading our lives from my four-door sedan.
I felt like I was running on empty as I made my way down the stairs to the kitchen in the back of the house. Sylvia was sitting at the small dinette table tucked into the bay window. The top was covered in a bright mosaic she’d made years ago, using broken stoneware and vases. The whole house was full of vibrant colors and crazy patterns—from the big, over-stuffed velvet couch in burnt orange, with its eclectic collection of throw pillows, to the squishy lounge chair in peacock blue, to the rugs and the paint on the walls. It looked like a rainbow had exploded, or the sixties had a massive acid trip and puked all over the place. I absolutely loved it. It was funky, just like her—and like how I used to be before I’d tamped that part of me down for Alex.
I’d spent years living in a monochromatic show house where everything from the dinnerware to the light fixtures matched. It hadn’t been me, not in the slightest. But I tried to appease myself by claiming that I’d been happy so I didn’t care that Alex had shot down every one of my design ideas.
I would never make that mistake again. From here on out, I was living my life on my terms. My house would look how I wanted it to look. I’d dress how I wanted to dress. I would be exactly who I wanted to be. 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.”