Holly and Ivy Page 4

  “Damn it!” she said out loud. Tears sprang up in her eyes, and she plopped down on the sofa, tired from cleaning. She was . . . She did not know what she was. Lonely? Angry? Sad?

  All of the above, that nagging voice of reason reminded her. She needed a drink, but something prevented her from pouring one. Her father would be here in a few hours. She needed to be in her right mind when he arrived, as she did not want to give him more reason than she had already for thinking she was out of her mind. Being drunk now was not going to help her situation one little bit. Later, maybe, but not now.

  Before she changed her mind, she forced herself upstairs and took a shower in the master bath. While it had not been totally off-limits, she could not remember the last time she had actually showered in here. Mostly, it was used for late-night visits when she was too tired or too drunk to go to the downstairs guest bathroom.

  Fifteen minutes after showering, Ivy had remade the bed with the freshly washed and dried sheets; then she crawled into bed, exhausted. She fell into a deep sleep and dreamed of a little girl who cried every time she heard music playing.

  Chapter 5

  Daniel spent the morning regretting life. Regretting the way it had turned out. But most of all, he deeply regretted the way he continued to treat his daughter. Plain and simple, the problem was that she reminded him of Laura. She had the exact same shade of hair, with streaks of gold throughout. Her clear gray-blue eyes were an exact replica of her mother’s. Mostly, Holly was everything he was not. She was kind. She was giving. She was patient. She was smart. She was mature beyond her years. And though he had never brought the topic up, she had the voice of an angel.

  He’d heard her singing in her bedroom more than once; yet he never complimented her, never told her how beautiful and unique her voice was. And he’d never told her that she had inherited her love of music from her mother. He never told her this because he’d forbidden any form of music in their house. For that matter, he made a point never to discuss her mother and her mother’s love of singing. It was because of Laura’s singing that he was widowed and Holly motherless. If only she had not had to go on that audition. He remembered how excited she had been when she received a callback from Paul Larson, the famous musical director of numerous Broadway hits. She had been so excited, running around the house, kissing Holly, lifting her high in the air, and whirling about. He could not help but get caught up in her excitement. She had sparkled and glittered that day. Her dream of a career onstage in a major musical was most likely about to come to fruition. Laura had even talked of relocating to New York City, and Daniel had agreed that if she were to get a role in a musical, and if there was promise of a real future, they would leave the house his parents had left him and move to the city. With a bachelor’s degree in horticulture from UNC State in Asheville, a job in the profession he loved might not be as easy to find, but he’d been willing to do whatever it took to make his wife happy.

  And then she had died. Life stopped that day, and he’d never really cared about anything much since. Had it not been for Holly, who knows what he would have done? Traveled the world, though that was just a dream. He didn’t have the money for that kind of lifestyle. He could have chosen another profession, but his heart had always been in the land. He’d been as passionate about horticulture as Laura had been with her music. He understood passion; but now, he knew that passion could kill you. So, here he was, almost forty years old, working as horticultural director for The Upside. He really loved his work, though he did not care too much for the managerial side. Still, it provided a hefty income. He was still able to get his hands dirty, oversee the development of their nursery, and, when time allowed, managed to crossbreed a few seedlings, which gave him great pleasure.

  There were times when he huddled up in the large greenhouse, watching his seedlings take shape in the form of brilliant-colored flowers. When he saw the seedlings blossoming throughout the flower beds of The Upside, he felt such an incredible sense of pride. But at the same time, he always felt guilty for feeling any kind of pleasure. Look what pleasure had cost him. Was it worth it?

  Some days, he wasn’t sure. Then there was Holly. It always came down to his daughter. She had no real memory of her mother, or if she did, he’d refused to allow her to talk about it with him the few times she had tried. The hurt was still there, and though not as strong as it had been, it still bothered him to talk about Laura and how she had passed away. He’d never told Holly how her mother died, only that it was unexpected, and that there was no need to discuss it. Laura was gone, and that was the end. But now that Holly was getting older, he knew the day would come when he would no longer be able to silence her questions with a stern look. She had already rebelled against his wishes by sneaking to The Upside to hang out with that group of old women who seemed to think she was family.

  It had all started when she was eight years old.

  Pipes in the sprinkler system had gone haywire one night. He’d been called in by the night manager. He’d had no choice but to pack up Holly and bring her with him. An older woman named Carol, whom he’d chatted with a time or two, lived at The Upside. She had taken Holly to her home that night to watch her while he and the night crew repaired the system. Holly had been so excited about making a new friend, he’d taken her to visit Carol a few times after that night. Holly told him that Miss Carol was the grandmother she never had. He had not seen any harm in letting Holly visit her or her group of lady friends until she had started singing. She had the voice of an angel. Miss Carol had encouraged this, and Holly wanted to spend more time with her, as the old broad was quite the musician. They could make beautiful music together if he allowed Holly to continue down her current path. And now, she was talking about a Christmas musical, one that he knew was open to the public.

  It was not going to happen. No way, no how. He had his limits. It was bad enough he’d lost Laura during the holiday season. He sure as heck was not going to let his daughter pursue a career in music, as he’d overheard her telling her friend Roxie the last time she had been over. Music was forbidden in his house, and that was that. He’d made that rule very clear as soon as Holly had been old enough to understand. She had asked him a zillion times why he hated music, and he’d always given her his stock answer—it was nothing more than background noise, and he despised unnecessary noise. And it was true. He liked the quiet. The silence. He wore earplugs as much as possible while he worked just so he would have silence. One of his coworkers asked him once if he had musical anhedonia, and he’d been shocked, not that he’d asked, but that there was an actual name for what he felt. However, Daniel knew his dislike of music had much more to do with the loss it had generated rather than simple dislike or some sort of psychological problem.

  As far as he was concerned, music was noise. Nothing good ever came of it, and its consequences could be devastating. So he would do whatever he could to keep his daughter from a career that would most likely end in sorrow, anger, or frustration when success was not the outcome. She would thank him for this when she was old enough to understand life. He was sure of that.

  He’d stop at Ollie’s on his way home and get a pizza to take home for dinner tonight. Holly loved pepperoni pizza with black olives and extra cheese. He’d even splurge and buy a liter of Sprite, her favorite soft drink, something he rarely allowed. This would make her happy, and he’d have one more successful night at home with his daughter.

  Parenting was not that hard. Give the kid what she wants and get over it. Holly was a good girl. She knew not to expect all the bells and whistles she saw on television; that was not real. He hoped she would always remember that the arts, and music, and acting, were silly, self-centered, conceited activities. Maybe he would talk to her about becoming a doctor or an attorney—anything but music. Though she was not that good with numbers, she could learn if she tried hard enough. Her teacher had enraged him when she had offered to come to their house and tutor Holly. Did she think he was incapable of helping h
is daughter with her homework? Maybe she thought he wasn’t that bright. Whatever—it didn’t matter. Holly was smart; she would do fine in math as long as she studied hard.

  He’d make sure she spent extra time on her math tonight, and every night, until she brought her B minus up to an A. He would not take no for an answer, either. She should be spending more time studying than singing. While he would not acknowledge the singing, he had no problem with enforcing good study habits.

  Tonight, over pizza, he would make his request known.

  Chapter 6

  Just as she had told Roxie and Kayla, Holly got off the school bus at the stop closest to The Upside. Her best friends had promised not to tell anyone where she was going. She would be home long before her father arrived; just this once, she figured: What he does not know is not going to hurt him.

  She had made that excuse for disobeying him way too many times, but she just could not help herself. And she really could not see how what she was doing was harmful, dangerous, or otherwise objectionable. The time she spent with Miss Carol and her three best friends, Helen, Maxine, and Barbara, was the most fun she ever had . . . well, except for the time she spent with Roxie and Kayla.

  She rang the doorbell, excited at the song list she had come up with. Miss Carol was an awesome pianist, and Holly did not care if her father liked music or not. He didn’t have to listen to it. But she planned to make music and singing her career and had already started searching for colleges where she could pursue a major in music. She knew she was way too young to be doing this, but it was something that she could not stop. It was almost as if music was a part of her soul. She thought about singing all the time, and at home, when she was alone in her room, she sang softly, so only she could hear. Her father definitely did not approve of her interest in music. In fact, he did not seem to approve of anything she did outside of school.

  If she became famous someday, then maybe he would listen to her sing. Then again, maybe not.

  “Oh, Holly, come in,” Miss Carol said cheerfully, opening the door, then grabbing her in a big, loving hug.

  Holly returned the hug, and it actually felt so nice to feel the love of another human, an adult. Instantly tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. She eased out of the hug and turned her head to the side, so Miss Carol would not see her tears. She was a big baby. What would Roxie and Kayla think if they saw her blubbering like this? They’d probably hug her, too, just like Miss Carol did.

  She rotated so that her back was to Miss Carol. She placed her backpack on the bench. Sniffing and knuckling her eyes, she plastered a smile on her face. “You’re really gonna like the music I’ve picked out. At least I hope so. It’s just so awesome.” Her voice sounded whiny, like a little kid’s, but she could not help it.

  Miss Carol was in her late seventies but looked a whole lot younger. She reminded Holly of that cool woman in the James Bond movies she liked to watch with Kayla and Roxie. Judi something or other.

  “Sweetheart, something is wrong. Do you want to talk about it over a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies and a Coke?”

  Holly cleared her throat. “That sounds awesome, thanks,” she said, and followed Miss Carol to her large, cheery yellow kitchen that overlooked the giant aqua-blue swimming pool in her backyard.

  Miss Carol had the biggest and the coolest house at The Upside. Lots of Holly’s friends referred to the place as the old fogey’s playground, but Holly knew it was much more than that. They had condos for the elderly people who were not able to live on their own; and if residents were really sick, there were doctors and nurses to take care of them. Holly felt really bad for them, but most of the residents at The Upside lived in private homes. Her dad called it a gated community. Whatever it was, she liked being here a lot more than she liked being at home.

  Holly followed Miss Carol to the kitchen, where Holly pulled a bar stool out and sat down at the island in the center. Miss Carol’s back was to her as she pulled a sheet of freshly baked cookies from the oven. She placed them on the granite counter, then took a plate from the cabinet. She piled the cookies onto the plate, took two cans of Coke out of the refrigerator, filled two glasses with ice, and placed them in front of her.

  “Now tell me what’s going on, kiddo. Really.” She emphasized her last word like she meant business, and Holly knew that her friend would not fall for just any old story, so she decided she had to go with the truth.

  She took a sip of her fizzy Coke, then began. “It’s just that my dad doesn’t ever hug me, and, well, it felt kinda nice when you hugged me, you know?” She felt her eyes tear up again, and this time, instead of trying to hide them, she let them fall as she went on. “He’s a good guy, but he’s not a good dad. No, wait . . . I don’t mean that.” She stopped, then focused on her words. She did not want Miss Carol to think her dad was a bad person. “He’s just so quiet all the time.”

  Miss Carol took a hefty swig of her Coke, then bit into a cookie. She nodded, but did not utter a single word. Holly took this as a sign that she should continue.

  “It’s always kinda sad being around him, like he’s just going through the motions, but he’s not really there.” Holly had heard that line in a movie—she could not remember the name—but it was a perfect depiction of her father. “It’s like he’s there, but not really. Does that make sense?” Holly asked, then took a giant bite of her cookie.

  Carol nodded in agreement. “Being a grown-up is hard sometimes. When you’re older, you’ll understand. Your father had a tremendous loss, Holly. I have lost a spouse, too. It was tough for a few years. Though I never had children, I can imagine being a single parent is not very easy.”

  “But it’s been, like, eight years! I just do not get it,” Holly said, then finished her cookie. She reached for another. “Isn’t that a long time to grieve?”

  “Sweetie, grief has no time limit.”

  “Why not?”

  She took a deep breath, then another drink of soda. “I wish I knew. My guess is that people are just different emotionally, so grieving is unique for everyone. When Houston passed away, I was very sad. He’d been sick for a very long time, and part of me was relieved that he was not suffering anymore, but, boy, did I ever miss him. I moved on because I had to, and he would have wanted me to. That’s when I decided to move to The Upside. My life has been on an uphill trajectory ever since.” She smiled, then added, “And you, young lady, are a big part of that.”

  Holly grinned. “Thanks, Miss Carol. I feel the same way, too. Now, about that Christmas music.” She had tucked a piece of notebook paper in her back pocket. She pulled it out and handed it to her friend.

  Miss Carol scanned the list and whistled. “Young lady, you have some mighty fine taste in music. I’m sure I have the sheet music for most of this, and if I do not, I’ll hit up the music store so we can start practicing right away. Christmas is right around the corner.”

  “Are we going to practice today?” Holly asked, her sadness gone. It was hard to be unhappy around Miss Carol.

  “No, sweetie, not today. I have a board meeting scheduled for four o’clock. As much as I’d rather stay here with you, the meeting is important for the residents. Can you come by tomorrow after school? I’ll make sure to have all the music you want.” She eyed the paper on which Holly had scribbled her suggestions.

  “I’ll be here,” Holly said, then tossed back more of her soda. Her dad would get mad if he knew that she had had a Coke. She wasn’t sure why he disliked soda, either. He disliked a lot of cool stuff, and she wished she knew why. Then, maybe she could help him. She truly loved her dad, but her home life was not much fun. She preferred spending time with Miss Carol and her own two BFFs.

  “You want to take some of these cookies home for your dad?”

  “No! I mean . . . no thanks. Dad’s not much for junk food.” She really should tell Miss Carol that her father did not know about most of her visits. What if he was in a car wreck, and no one knew how to find her? She could thi
nk of a million reasons why she should tell her father about her trips, but she knew that if she did, there would be no more of them, or, at the very least, any there were would be on his terms, which meant an hour or two a week. They had to practice as much as possible. Though she had kept her promise to Maxine, she knew that if she did not perform in The Upside’s annual Christmas musical, she would be missing the opportunity of a lifetime.

  She wiped her mouth, finished the last of her Coke, then stood. “Thanks for the cookies, Miss Carol.”

  “You’re most welcome. Why don’t you let me give you a ride home? It’s on my way.”

  Holly’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “No, I’m okay walking. It’s not that far.” It was just a few short blocks, and though she would have liked to spend the extra time with Miss Carol, on the off chance her father was home and saw her getting out of the car, she did not even want to think about what would happen.

  “Tomorrow, then,” Miss Carol said.

  “I’ll be here,” Holly said, then headed for the front door. “Bye, Miss Carol,” she called as she opened it. She wanted to add I love you, but did not. She was pretty sure Miss Carol already knew that Holly loved her. Grabbing her backpack, she hefted it over her shoulder and hurried toward home. Her dad would have a heart attack if he caught her sneaking again.

  And if he knew what Maxine had planned for her, he would lock her up until she turned fifty. He would find out, she knew that much, but she had to make sure it was under the right circumstances, and she knew exactly when that would happen. She crossed her fingers and offered up a little prayer. Just in case.

  Chapter 7

  Holly’s eyes were red from crying so much. She could not sleep, and her stomach ached from eating too much pizza. Normally, she would have had two or three slices, but this evening, she had eaten six slices while her father read her the riot act.