The Ivy Window

Chapter 1: In Which We Meet Our Protagonist in a Rather Pedantic Way

Joy Lucas, by nature, was not a very imposing woman by any stretch of the mind. Standing no higher than 5 foot even, mostly soft curves and warm smiles, she was a soft-spoken woman of thirty, existing in chunky knit sweaters that she spent her early twenties perfecting how to make (and still is rather proud of) and long flowing skirts that brushed over her seldom shoe-clad feet, and her curly blonde hair was oft in a singular braid over her shoulder. She was known as the local mother hen, taking care of any and all who needed a shoulder, or advice or hot soup on a cold day. She was most definitely a temporary mother, though, not many people darkened her doorway for long. Her sister used to say she was like the giving tree in that one poem their mother would read to them- always providing for everyone but never receiving an ounce in return. Joy didn't see it like that, she felt like more of like a lighthouse, giving hope and light to ships passing in the night, giving shelter from the storms raging against the sea.

Another peculiar thing about Miss Lucas is, wherever Joy went, as did her little notebook, for she was prone to be forgetful- whether the information was vital or benign it was always a hit or miss whether or not it would stick in her mind. So this scrappy little thing, small enough to fit into the pockets of her skirts along with her favorite pen- a birthday gift from Grey, held almost all information Joy thought was important, and things that are not. It was the same accident in which her parents were killed that caused these frequent blank spaces in her mind, but she has grown used to having missing minutes, hours and even days. Her notebook helps in the way that it can spark up recollection in half-forgotten memories, there was always a chance if she wrote 'Spoke with Lidia from the farmers market' she would be able to access that memory much better than wondering what she did yesterday afternoon. Something about seeing the words on the paper helped connect all the tracks in her brain to get to whatever memory- it did help when she was verbally reminded, but less so than when it was written

She was 23 when she first met Delilah, she had been working part-time shelving books at the local library, a job she took to spend her time caring for her sister. She had replied to a 'live-in nanny wanted' flier thinking it was about time she had moved from the dinkey one oom apartment she had stayed at while she sold her sister's house, and found a more long term solution than 'Work part-time and try not to think too much about being utterly alone in the world.' She had met him in the garden of his estate, even without her notes she could remember his crisp suit and clever eyes. She doesn't remember much from the interview but he did find her more than competent and hired her immediately. She had moved in the next day into a set of tastefully furnished and sunlight-filled rooms in the manor, and begun her employ under Delilah Black. Her new ward, Grey Bennet,  was a young woman, still in her teens, who had lost her parents young. Spirits plagued the poor girl's mind, and it was a struggle for her to block them out. Although Joy was a natural choice for her caretaker, as she was full of boundless patience, empathy, and warmth- not to mention the world-class hugs she would dole out to anyone who would ask. 

Over the years, they fell into a comfortable rhythm, she did not ask what plagued Grey to the near point of madness, just simply soothed her when her mind got too loud, she did not question the more obscure of Delilah's passions and hobbies, just smiled at the guests and continued Grey's lessons or her knitting or her walk around the gardens. She had a family again, she had a friend and a ward and a lovely place to stay and a rather nice salary. She was happy, truly happy, for the first time in a very long while. The first time Delilah referred to her as part of his family she nearly cried, up until that point she had thought of herself as no more than the over-eager help who maybe overstepped boundaries a few times, but to be officially referred to as an 'Intrinsic and inseparable part of (his) family' washed all of those anxieties away in an instant.