Best Laid Plans. Brenda Jackson
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course you are.”
Ivy tried to rein in her temper that had never, ever been directed at her grandmother before. She bit into her sandwich and then took a sip of her tea before asking, “Do you think I’m so lacking that I can’t find anyone on my own, Nana? That you have to invite men to call me?”
“No. And we’re not talking about any man, Ivy. We are talking about a man who I believe will one day be your husband.”
“He will not be my husband. Have you forgotten that I never, ever plan to get married?”
“We will see.”
Ivy couldn’t do anything but stare at her grandmother. She’d never known Helen Chapman to be so illogical. Deciding to try another tactic, she took her grandmother’s hand and said in a softer tone, “Look at me, Nana. Nolan is used to dating real pretty girls. Girls with capital Gs printed on their foreheads for gorgeous. I’m not chopped liver but I know my limitations.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Nana pulled her hand away, picked up her sandwich and took a bite. Then she took a sip of her drink before saying, “The only limitations you have are the ones you place on yourself, Ivy. Regardless of what you think, you are pretty. You are gorgeous. Contrary to what you evidently believe, being smart and intelligent doesn’t make you unattractive.”
“Yes, but it makes me oblivious to stuff most women find important. Like their looks and clothes. I like who I am just fine.”
“And you should. Earlier you asked if I thought you lack something and I told you no. What I didn’t say was that I think because of that Damien fellow, you’re denying yourself a chance to meet a nice guy. One who will think you’re beautiful, both inside and out, and who you’d want to marry.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Even if I was the least bit interested in ever getting married, which I am not, why would I want to marry a man like Nolan Madaris? A better question to ask is why would he want to marry a woman like me?”
“Because you were made for each other. Why can’t you see that?”
“And why can’t you see that we aren’t and that I’m not his type?”
“Quite the contrary. Laverne and I think you and young Madaris are a perfect match.”
A perfect match? She had to be kidding. “Nana, I want you to promise me that you will drop this whole thing. If you only knew how embarrassed I was after going into his office to give him those flowers back, only to discover he hadn’t sent them at all. And then to find out he thought I’d been sending those notes to him. You can’t imagine how humiliated I felt.”
“There was no reason for you to feel humiliated about anything. Our goal was to finally get the two of you to meet and we were successful in doing that.”
Ivy took a sip of her tea. Yes, they’d been successful in achieving that. But she had no intentions of seeing Nolan Madaris again and there was no doubt in her mind he had no intentions of ever looking her up either.
Ivy decided she would no longer argue that point with her grandmother because she could see it would be a total waste of her time. She figured when Nana and Ms. Laverne saw their antics had failed, they would soon realize that as well.
* * *
NOLAN FOUND HIS great-grandmother just where Jake said she would be. On the patio, shelling peas. She looked up the moment he stepped through the French doors, which as far as he was concerned, dispelled the notion that she had a hearing problem. Everyone knew Felicia Laverne Madaris heard just what she wanted to hear.
“Nolan, this is a surprise.”
He doubted it. He had a feeling she’d been expecting him. “Hello, Mama Laverne.” He walked over to her, leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but there’s a reason for my visit.”
She smiled up at him. “Is there?”
He shook his head, thinking she had the gall to look innocent. “Yes.” He slid into an empty chair to face her. As soon as he sat down she shoved a handful of pea pods into his lap, directly onto his pair of Giorgio slacks.
“While you’re here you might as well make yourself useful,” she said.
He drew in a deep breath and began shelling peas. Doing so reminded him of years gone by when she’d made all her great-grandsons do this very thing, the day before their mandatory cooking class with her had started. At the time he’d resented learning how to cook, but now he appreciated her for caring enough to take the time to teach all of them. And there had been so many of his cousins learning at the same time. It had been about more than cooking, though, which he now saw. It had taught them how to get along not only as cousins but to form relationships that were, in most cases, closer than brothers.
To know Mama Laverne was to love her, although at the moment he wanted to strangle her. He would never actually harm a hair on her head. Not a single strand. Not this ninety-something-year-old woman whose hands were a lot older than his, yet moved with a quicker precision than his while shelling peas. Years of experience and a demand of discipline.
She was the reason all seven of her sons had grown up to be God-fearing men. Even after losing her husband, she hadn’t given up. She had been there for her sons, their children and now her sons’ grands. She was the glue that held the Madaris family together. She was the backbone. She had a heart of gold. She thought of others before she thought of herself...maybe too much at times. She was the epitome of a strong woman.
But did that give her the right to interfere in their lives like she’d been doing lately? Hell, it hadn’t been lately; it stretched all the way back to his grandparents’ generation. He knew the stories were more fact than fiction. Wasn’t it time for her to stop the foolishness? Take a much-needed break? Did she not think they were capable of selecting their own mates if and when they desired one? And shouldn’t it be when they were ready to make the move and not when she thought they were ready?
“So, I take it you got something to say, Nolan.”
He glanced at her. Yes, he had a lot to say and would make sure that no matter how frustrated he was with her that he would give her all the respect she deserved. “You had no right to send Ivy Chapman flowers and let her think they were from me.”
“They were from you. Eventually you’ll get the bill. I told your aunt Sarah to hold off sending it until I told her to do so.”
Nolan was too stunned to say anything for a moment. His aunt Sarah, his cousin Reese’s mom, owned a florist shop in the Madaris Building. Mama Laverne had flowers sent for a full three months to a woman he didn’t know and intended for him to pay for them.
Without saying anything, he placed the peas he’d shelled into the container on the table and the remaining pods back in the pail they’d come out of. He stood, brushed off his slacks and began pacing the floor, reining in his escalating anger.
He wasn’t certain how much time passed before he finally stopped and said, “No matter what you say or do, nothing will ever develop between me and Ivy Chapman.”
“If you say so.”
He frowned. “I not only say so, I mean so. She’s not my type.”
“You don’t know your type.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said you don’t know your type, obviously. You thought Andrea Dunmire was your type and she proved you wrong.”
“That was years ago, and I’d like to think I’ve matured enough to know what type of woman is good for me and what type woman is not. You know that old saying about learning from your mistakes. Well, trust me, I learned from mine.”
He had been wrong in thinking Andrea was his chosen one. The one he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. That day she hadn’t