Izzie was used to seeing people stream in and out of the Monroe house. It wasn’t unusual to run into people with her dad’s campaign in the living room, or to find his personal assistant at the kitchen island jabbering on the phone about fund-raising efforts. With her dad back in the race for the state’s open U.S. Senate seat and primaries coming up in May, the Monroes’ house had turned into campaign central.
Which was why she was surprised to come home one day and find her dad and Aunt Maureen alone in the kitchen while Connor played with LEGOs in the adjoining family room. She couldn’t remember the last time the house had been that quiet.
“Hi, gang. How was your day?” their dad asked as if it were completely normal to find him at the island drinking coffee without an entourage. “How was swim?” he asked Izzie as Hayden and Mira trickled in behind her. “Are you back in the final heat yet?”
Izzie dropped her book bag. “I wish.” She eyed one of her aunt’s homemade chocolate-chip cookies. She was training, so she tried to resist their allure. “It’s been torture having to watch Savannah swim the last heat of the one-hundred-meter-freestyle medley.”
“For you or for her?” Hayden joked, and took a cookie from the plate.
“Hopefully you’ll be back where you belong by next week’s meet.” Her dad removed his reading glasses and placed them on the newspaper in front of him. “Your aunt and I have been looking forward to coming out to cheer you on.”
“He cleared his afternoon schedule for it,” Aunt Maureen added. Izzie knew that was a big deal. Her dad didn’t have enough time to even eat these days. Hayden joked he needed a second assistant just to feed him.
“I hope it will be worth it,” Izzie said, her fingers inching toward the cookies. “I’d hate for you to waste valuable campaign time to watch Savannah swim in my spot.”
“Ignore her,” Mira told her parents. “She’s having a Savannah situation.”
Izzie took a cookie and stuffed it in her mouth to keep from saying anything about Savannah she would regret. She had texted Savannah twice about getting together to discuss Founders Day, but the prima donna had texted back that she didn’t feel it was appropriate to meet till Izzie had brushed up on her EC history. She even had the nerve to leave books about EC near Izzie’s locker.
The most frustrating part was that Savannah could be right. Izzie didn’t know much about the town she now called home. Until Savannah gave her that reading homework, she had no idea that the townswomen were some of the first to fight for suffrage. Or that, for a short period, the town’s official symbol wasn’t emeralds—it was cows. (No wonder they buried that fact on here of the book she was reading. Cows didn’t seem trendy enough for Emerald Cove.)
The crash course in EC history was helping, but Izzie hoped Savannah didn’t think she could give her a pop quiz before they discussed Founders Day again. Their meeting with Mrs. Fitz was next Tuesday, and this weekend was Valentine’s Day. Savannah wouldn’t want to celebrate the day of love with her. Izzie had to nail her to a meeting.
“Speaking of thorns like the Ingrams,” their dad said, “I have some news.”
Mira immediately panicked. “Did they get to Charles?” Charles Abrams was their dad’s new campaign manager. Their dad had hired him only last week. He had gone through so many it was a running joke now.
In less than six months, Lucas Hale, Callista Foster, and Savannah’s father had all tried to take Bill and his campaign down. For a minute, it looked like their dad was going to drop out of the race, but after he cleared his name, he had come back from the holidays in fighting form. Izzie admired that. She felt like she had to prove herself every day, too.
“Nothing’s happened to Charles,” Aunt Maureen soothed. “Your dad likes him.”
“Now that all background checks are clear, I really like him,” their dad joked. “I promise you, no one in this campaign is going to mess with our family again.”
Good. Izzie didn’t think she could handle another month of newspaper stories that chronicled whether she was really Bill Monroe’s daughter (she was) or how her dad had used taxpayer dollars to take their family to New York over Thanksgiving (he hadn’t) or how he had messed up some environmental bill (it was never even on the table).
“My poll numbers are up and I seem to be making strides in several counties,” their dad continued. “If this keeps up, Charles says, I have a real shot of getting the nomination for the Democratic Party.” Everyone grinned. “But it also means we are still going to be in the public eye the next few months. I’ll need you to attend fund-raisers, make appearances at key public events, and do interviews. We want to control the information out there.” His face darkened. “We don’t want to give Grayson Reynolds any ammunition,” he said, referring to the sleazy reporter at the North Carolina Gazette who was on a one-man mission to destroy their dad’s reputation and political future.
“So what you’re saying is don’t go tagging school property, keying any cars, or robbing area banks,” Hayden translated. “Come on! I live for that stuff.”
His mom pulled the second cookie he was taking out of reach. “Very funny.”
“Look, you don’t need me to tell you how to act,” their dad said. “You are great kids. Act the way you normally would. Just remember the world—especially Grayson Reynolds—will be watching and waiting for you to screw up.”
“That’s encouraging,” Izzie said. When people waited for her to mess up, she usually did.
Their dad grimaced. “I know, but I said no more secrets and I am keeping my word even if the news isn’t great.” He looked warily at Izzie. “Which is why, with full disclosure in mind, I should mention that we’re having an unexpected guest for dinner tonight.” He looked at his wife. “Why don’t you tell her, Maureen. It was your idea.”
Her aunt shot him a look, which Izzie wasn’t used to seeing. “Yes, well, since she will be here any minute, I should.” Aunt Maureen suddenly looked anxious and started pulling at her pearls, which she did only when she was about to let a bomb drop like…
“Oh no. You didn’t!” Izzie backed away from the table like she was going to make a run for it. She was so loud that Connor looked up from his LEGOs. “Why?” she moaned, her tone alternating between pained and angry. “I thought you said I didn’t have to see her if I didn’t want to.”
“Zoe is coming?” Hayden asked. “Mom! Not cool.” Izzie and Hayden still hadn’t discussed what was going on with him and Kylie. She figured they were both too afraid to bring it up. She didn’t want to make things weird—even if they already were. Kylie seemed to be using the same approach. Every time they spoke, they talked about only safe subjects, like Harborside and Izzie cochairing with Savannah. What else could Izzie really say? I don’t want you to date my brother? No, she had to think this through, and right now the bigger problem was Zoe dropping in on her doorstep again.
“I invited Zoe to give Isabelle some closure,” Aunt Maureen explained to the mutinous group. “Zoe is part of Isabelle’s family, and we need to give her a chance.”
“Being related to me does not make her family,” Izzie countered. Her shoulders were stiff, which made her swim-team jacket look like it had shoulder pads. “She hasn’t acted like family.”
“You’re right,” Aunt Maureen agreed. “But she’s stuck around, and that’s because she wants to make things right with you. If you haven’t noticed, she’s not going away.” Izzie didn’t say anything. “Maybe she will if you let her explain.”
“I already know what she’s going to say.” Izzie was huffy. “She’s sorry. Who cares? She doesn’t want to get to know me. She’s just sticking around because she feels guilty.”
“I didn’t think this dinner was a good idea, either, but Maureen is right about one thing: You deserve the truth,” her dad said. “Don’t let her be a coward. Make her be honest with you. If you don’t like what she has to say, then I promise you never have to see her again.”
His response surprised Izzie in a good way, but it also made her wonder: How well did he know Zoe? She’d never thought to ask him.
Aunt Maureen looked flustered. “I know I overstepped by inviting her, but I don’t want you to regret not getting to know her while you have the chance. Don’t you want to ask her what your mom was like when she was your age?”
Izzie was quiet for a moment. Grams had taught her it was important to live without regrets. It was just one dinner. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay, but I am not changing out of my gym clothes,” she decided. Aunt Maureen smiled in relief, but was it Izzie’s imagination or did her dad look disappointed that she had caved?
Aunt Maureen squeezed Izzie like a lemon just as the doorbell rang. “We’ll be with you the whole time, and dinner will be over before you know it!” she said before heading to the front door. “I guess we should go greet our guest.” The group slowly followed her.
“This might be the first time I’ve ever been anywhere on time!” Izzie heard Zoe say as she kissed Aunt Maureen and handed her flowers. “I am always late.”
Well, that was one thing they had in common. Scotts were never on time.
Zoe looked so much like her mom that she had to remind herself she wasn’t seeing a ghost. It was Zoe’s clothes that reminded Izzie that it wasn’t her. Izzie’s mom wouldn’t have known a designer label if she had been handed a dress by the designer himself. All she cared about was whether the thrift-store jeans fit. Zoe, on the other hand, was clearly a clotheshorse. A thin royal-blue scarf lay over her bright green sweater, which she had paired with jeans and snakeskin heels.
Zoe finally noticed Izzie lurking in the doorway. “Hey!” She headed toward her, and Izzie froze. “Thanks for agreeing to have dinner with me.”
“It was my aunt’s idea,” Izzie said, and Aunt Maureen gave Izzie a pained smile.
Zoe’s laugh made her even sound like Izzie’s mom. “I’m not surprised, but hey, I’ll take whatever in I can get.” She held a bottle of wine out to Izzie’s dad. “This is my peace offering for you, Bill. It’s Pindar. Remember that vineyard on Long Island?”
“Of course. Thank you.” He sounded stiff.
Izzie and Mira exchanged looks. Peace offerings? Their dad acting less than friendly? What exactly was the story with these two?
Her dad looked at the label. “As I recall, this was your favorite.”
“Guilty!” Zoe laughed again. “Still is. Now that I can afford it, I order it by the case. I thought it might be a good icebreaker if we all had a glass.” Izzie felt her foot start to tap. There was no way the Monroes were going to serve them wine at dinner.
Her dad surprised her with his response. “I guess they can each have a sip.” He looked at Izzie. “Especially since this was the wine your mom and I had on our first date.”
Izzie loved learning details about their relationship. Suddenly she wished she had paid closer attention to that label. She watched her dad carry the wine, as if he were holding a piece of her mom.
“Why don’t we head into the dining room?” Aunt Maureen suggested, switching into hostess mode. “There is no need to stand here and make introductions when you’ve already met everybody.”
“She hasn’t met me!” Connor squeezed around the side of his mother. Connor hadn’t gone to Grams’s wake or funeral because he was so young. He stared at Zoe. “Hey, you came to see our Christmas lights!”
Zoe leaned down. “That’s right. It’s nice to see you, Connor. I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Isabelle’s…” She glanced briefly at Izzie, who tensed at the mere thought of Zoe using the word aunt. “I’m Isabelle’s friend.”
“Oh.” Connor looked confused. “You look a little old to be her friend.”
“Oh, Connor!” Aunt Maureen said with a forced laugh. She steered Connor to the opposite end of the table. “Zoe, please sit where you like.”
Normally Mira and Izzie sat across from each other, but as soon as Zoe slipped into Mira’s usual seat, Mira took the one next to Izzie and Hayden took the chair on the other side, flanking her as if they were her bodyguards. Their dad sat next to Zoe. If Zoe was bothered by the seating arrangement, she didn’t show it.
“So, Mira,” Zoe said, folding her napkin on her lap. “Have you been back to Emerald Arts since I saw you? They’re having a sale on acrylic paints.”
“Really? Till when?” Mira was unable to hide her excitement.
Izzie bristled. “When did you run into each other at Emerald Arts?”
Mira avoided making eye contact. “It was only for, like, a second.”
“A few weeks ago,” Zoe clarified. “We chatted about all the places I’ve been and with which celebrities.” She glanced at Aunt Maureen. “I’ve pretty much been around the globe on Hollywood’s dime. People are always impressed by that.”
“Love the modesty,” Hayden mumbled. Izzie coughed to cover her grin.
“How did you get into that line of work?” Aunt Maureen asked politely.
Zoe took a scoop of mashed potatoes without passing them around the table. “I briefly modeled before I decided to see what it was like on the other side of the camera.” She smiled at Mira. “I told Mira she would be a great model. I can see her face on the cover of Teen Vogue. Shoot! I was supposed to call Justine for you, wasn’t I? I will as soon as I get back from New York.” She shook her head. “Since word got out I was still on the East Coast, the phone has not stopped ringing. Everyone wants to shoot with me!”
Hayden passed the crystal salad bowl high to cover their faces. “I hope you made an appointment to talk to her, Iz, because it sounds like she might not be able to squeeze you in.” This time Izzie started to laugh out loud.
“Hayden?” Aunt Maureen’s voice was strained. “Something you wanted to add?”
Hayden feigned innocence. “Nope. Sorry. Tell us more about your amazing life, Zoe.” Izzie thought she heard Mira kick him under the table.
“I think Mira knows there are better avenues ahead of her than modeling,” Bill chimed in. He slung the mashed potatoes down on his plate a little too hard and the serving spoon made a sharp sound. “You know better than anyone how superficial that world can be.”
“Oh, Bill! Some people never change,” Zoe said, glancing at Izzie. “You never saw modeling as a legitimate career. That’s why you didn’t want Chloe to become one.”
This is getting interesting, Izzie thought. Her dad was clearly unnerved by Zoe, not that she noticed. At the moment, she was scrolling through messages on her iPhone.
“So, Zoe, did you say you’re going to New York soon?” Aunt Maureen asked, trying not to sound perturbed that Zoe had her phone at the dinner table. Even Bill wasn’t allowed to have one there. “We took the kids this Thanksgiving and they loved it.”
“The LEGO store is huge, but so is the park with all the rocks,” said Connor.
“That place is pretty great,” Zoe told him. “New York is the only place to be as far as I’m concerned. Other than Southern California, of course.”
“North Carolina has a lot going for it, too, as you might recall.” Her dad was cutting his steak with increasing vigor.
Zoe ignored the comment. “Remember those pictures I took of you and Chloe at the Central Park boathouse, Bill?”
Her dad put down his knife and smiled for the first time since Zoe arrived. “Of course. We were Zoe’s guinea pigs,” he told Izzie. “She had just purchased her first Nikon and was trying to figure out how to use the lenses.” He laughed. “In some of the shots, we look like circus performers, but I think you managed to fire off one or two good pictures.”
“I should have the negatives back in Los Angeles somewhere,” Zoe said. “Maybe you’d like to see the pictures, Isabelle.”
It killed Izzie to admit it, but she would love to have a picture of her parents together. “That would be great.”
“What a career you’ve had,” Aunt Maureen marveled. She had clearly drunk the Kool-Aid. “Everyone in town has been talking about it.”
“I’m not surprised.” Zoe seemed a tad impressed with herself. “Most people like to hear what it’s like to work with the Beckhams or the Jolie-Pitts.”
“I take it working with celebrities is not the pits,” Hayden deadpanned. “Get it?” Bill started to laugh and Aunt Maureen glowered at them.
“What made you want to model?” Mira asked to change the subject. Izzie was wondering the same thing.
“It was a way to get out of Harborside,” Zoe said between bites. “The only thing I regretted was leaving your mom,” she told Izzie. “Back then we were as thick as thieves. My mother and I, not so much. Chloe wound up following me after she finished junior college. I never even got a degree. The world is my college.”
“I’m sure it is, but nothing trumps a good education,” Aunt Maureen said, mostly for Hayden’s benefit. He was a junior and she wanted him to start thinking about college.
Zoe shrugged. “When you have talent and guts, there is nothing you can’t do.” She obviously missed Aunt Maureen’s point. “When I hated modeling, I got into photography and interned for free for a while, crashing at a friend’s pad,” she told the table. “Pretty soon I got a job as a photographer’s assistant and was taking my own lessons with some of the most amazing photographers in the world. That’s the spring Chloe came and stayed with me in New York and met Bill. She…”
Zoe had a way of storytelling that made it feel like she was talking only to you, and everyone wanted to listen to her. Zoe was magnetic, that was for sure, but Izzie had seen others like her. It was an act she wasn’t going to fall for.
“… so of course, your mom was a nervous wreck,” Zoe was saying. “She hated New York, but she couldn’t find a job in Harborside, so I lined up a waitressing job for her in the city at this great restaurant that was known for attracting celebrities and sports stars.” She winked at Izzie. “I’m the reason your parents even met.”
Her dad’s shoulders seemed to tense.
“Bill told Isabelle that New York grew on Chloe. Is that right?” Aunt Maureen asked. Izzie couldn’t help being touched by Aunt Maureen’s efforts. She had invited the sister of her husband’s ex-girlfriend to dinner—all to help Izzie better know the mom she lost. It had to be weird hearing about her husband and a former girlfriend he had a child with, but she was doing this for her. Her aunt was a rock star.
“Once Chloe met Bill, she liked it more,” Zoe said. “I worked long hours, so it was weeks before I even knew the two of them were hanging out. You were so scrawny back then!” she teased Bill. “Always talking about bulking up and hitting the gym.” Hayden stifled a laugh. “Chloe hated weight lifting, so they usually went to Far Rockaway to swim instead. She told him it would give him great upper-arm strength. By July Fourth, they were inseparable. Remember that rooftop party we went to in Brooklyn?”
As much as Izzie didn’t want to listen, she had to. This was her parents’ story.
“I do.” Bill grinned. “Chloe got into an argument with a local politician about a community garden they wanted to tear down.” They both laughed.
“She basically ran the guy out of there, then proceeded to call him daily till she changed his mind,” Zoe added, taking a sip of her drink. “Our apartment turned into her command center! God, she racked up such a phone bill. She called every politician in the area twice!”
Izzie laughed despite herself. “She was always like that. Mom called till someone listened. Was she obsessed with infomercials back then, too?”
“Infomercials?” Mira questioned. “Really?”
“It’s not what you think,” Zoe said. “Chloe hated them. She was always rambling on about how they should be banned because they were such a sham. She would have made a great lawyer.”
“Yes, she would have,” her dad said. Izzie noticed it was the first time Bill had agreed with Zoe all evening.
“Isabelle has that gene in her,” Aunt Maureen bragged as she buttered a roll for Connor. “She is a cochair for Emerald Prep’s Social Butterflies club. Both the girls are members. The group does many community-service projects.”
“You don’t say.” Zoe held her glass up in honor. “Your mom would have been really proud.”
For some reason, the gesture hit Izzie the wrong way. Zoe talking about her mom as if she knew her—as if they had a relationship when she died—was too much for Izzie to handle. “How would you know what my mom would think?” Izzie suddenly snapped, and everyone looked startled. “You wanted nothing to do with us until you absolutely had to. You abandoned the whole family!” Zoe flinched, and Izzie realized she was shouting.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” her dad said. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”
“No,” Zoe said sharply. “We should talk about what happened between your mom and me.” Izzie looked at her. “I have spent a long time thinking about the mistakes in my life and figuring out ways to correct them,” Zoe said softly. “I may not be Mother Teresa, but the Dalai Lama didn’t call me his star pupil for nothing. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your mom. I was wrong to ignore you, but I have always lived life on my own terms. When your mom left me in New York, I thought, Screw her. Who needs family? We create our own family wherever we go, so I made mine in California. I have a great life there, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t regret what I had lost.”
Izzie had no idea what caused her mom and aunt’s falling out. All she knew was that her mom never spoke of having a sister. Whatever it was, it had to be pretty bad.
“I traveled so much those years and had so many addresses and phone numbers that it is no wonder no one was able to find me when she passed away.” Her blue eyes glazed over. “Your grandmother was many things, but most of all she was prideful, and when I turned my back on her and your mom, they turned their backs on me, too. When your grandmother finally tracked me down years later, I was hurt to learn it wasn’t to make amends. She needed something from me. I should have taken custody of you, but I was so angry at your grandmother that I couldn’t see that it was you I needed to protect. I will always regret saying no, she said hoarsely. “I was so conflicted, I went straight to his Holiness to work on my inner beauty after that. When I was done, I came to find your grandmother and you.” She smiled. “It wasn’t hard. Your name is in every paper. You have sort of a Cinderella story thing going on.”
Izzie wasn’t sure what to say. She had spent so many weeks being angry about being abandoned by Zoe that she had never thought about how abandoned Zoe felt by her own family. Now she didn’t know what to think.
“Your mom and I didn’t end on good terms, but I have so many great memories of her that I’d like to share with you if you’ll let me.” Zoe sounded tentative. “And if I have the time.”
“Time?” Aunt Maureen asked.
“Yes, it appears you can only book a hotel room for so long in Emerald Cove,” Zoe said. “My room at the Sea Crest hotel is only available for another week. Something about an annual historical-society convention for Emerald Cove’s Founders Day. Apparently every hotel in town is booked, and to be honest, I don’t think I can afford to pay my mortgage back home and a hotel here much longer anyway. I have money, but no one has that much money. Except maybe you, Bill.”
Izzie could feel her chest tighten. On the one hand, having Zoe as far away as possible would let her move on, but on the other… Aunt Maureen had been right. Zoe knew stories about her mom that no one else could tell her.
“We understand you can’t stay here forever,” Bill asked. “You can keep in touch with Isabelle by phone and—”
“Maybe my dad could help you find somewhere to stay,” Izzie interrupted before she even thought about it. “So you could stay a little longer. If you wanted to.” Her eyes met Aunt Maureen’s. She understood.
“Zoe could stay here for a few weeks,” Aunt Maureen offered.
“What?” Bill suddenly dropped his act, sounding incredulous.
“The guesthouse is empty in the winter,” Aunt Maureen reminded him. “It has its own entrance and kitchen and bath, so Zoe would be on her own but still close enough for Isabelle and Zoe to continue to get to know each other.” She gave him a meaningful look. “This would really help Isabelle, don’t you think?”
Her dad looked resigned to the decision already. Izzie’s aunt usually got her way. “Yes.” He turned to Izzie. “If this is something you really want.”
What she wanted was more time. Time to sort out her feelings, to learn why her mom and Zoe stopped speaking, to hear Zoe’s side of the story. The only way those things were going to happen is if Zoe was still here to tell her. “I do.”
“That would be fantastic,” said Zoe. “People keep calling for photography sessions and I keep saying I don’t know how long I’m staying. Now I do! I have to be back to Los Angeles in the spring, so I’ll be out of your hair by April, I swear. My friends throw me an annual birthday party in Cabo that I can’t miss.”
“Izzie’s birthday is in March,” Mira offered. “Mine is in May. We’re turning sixteen.”
“Are you having a huge sweet sixteen?” Zoe asked.
“I am,” Mira said. “Izzie hasn’t decided yet. She’s not a huge fan of parties.”
“Mira,” Izzie warned. Zoe didn’t need to know everything about her.
Mira rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll stop talking about it. But you’re going to be sorry if you don’t have one. Sweet sixteens are a lot of fun.”
“Party or no party, I’m glad you’ll be here for Isabelle’s birthday,” Aunt Maureen said. “Family is so important.”
Zoe opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. Instead she turned to Izzie. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
Tonight’s conversation had made Izzie realize one thing: A person’s life could change with just one decision. She didn’t want this to be one she regretted. “Yes,” Izzie said, twisting the cloth napkin on her lap into a knot. “I’m not promising that this will make things better between us. What you did is still not okay. I don’t forgive you yet.” She breathed deeply. “But I’m willing to try.”
Zoe smiled sadly. “That’s all anyone can do: try.”