Leave Me Breathless: The Ivy Collection

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Leave Me Breathless: The Ivy Collection Page 16

by KL Donn


  The hopeful look on her face is really too much with her kind offer, but who’ll watch Dane?

  “Oh, pregnant brain,” she says, smacking her palm against her forehead. “It just dawned on me you’d need someone to watch Dane. Bring him to our house, and we’ll go together. He can hang out and play with Ian for an hour.”

  “All right. That would be great. Thank you.” I nod, happy to accept her offer.

  She pulls a piece of paper and a pen from her purse and writes her address down in big, bold, flourishing script. Her handwriting is beautiful.

  I just pray he doesn’t have a meltdown while we’re away but at least I know they could handle it. “Your handwriting is beautiful. Do you know calligraphy?”

  “Nope. I’m just a girly-girl who’s always writing my name when I’m bored. When Jared and I were dating, I must have written my first name with his last name ten thousand times because I loved the way they looked together. So, I have lots of practice.” She scrolls her name across another sheet of paper and giggles before showing it to me.

  “Simply gorgeous,” I remark. Then I catch Ian’s eye out on the field as he stretches with the kids during warm-ups. He’s facing me, and I swear he just gave me the slightest hint of a wink before looking away.

  “My writing or the coach?” She swats at my hand and giggles louder, diverting my attention back to her.

  “Ooh, sorry about that.” A blush creeps up my neck and sprouts across my cheeks, burning up into my hairline. I discreetly fan my face with my hands. “Is it hot in here?”

  “Just a little with the supernova panty-melter over there on the field. Sweet, baby Jesus to be ten years younger and single.”

  We both laugh a little too loudly at her description of Ian then look to make sure we aren’t drawing attention to ourselves.

  “But girl, how lucky for you. You move to a new town and score the hottest neighbor. And a single one at that.”

  “He’s a great neighbor if you don’t mind the media constantly camped out in the front of your house trying to catch him. I’m just glad they stay out on the street and don’t have the protesters with them. What a bunch of crap that is. Sorry for being so blunt. I know violent men, and Ian Legend is not one of them.”

  “Oh, don’t be sorry. I agree with you one hundred percent. The media will leave him alone as soon as the next athlete messes up, which won’t be too far away now. Football season is almost upon us.”

  We both laugh out loud at that statement too. Like I thought earlier, I like her. She’s funny.

  “Excuse me, Neenah. I have to go pee for the fiftieth time this morning already. I swear this kid is bouncing on my bladder like it’s a trampoline.”

  She pushes herself up out of the chair and waddles up the stairs to the restroom. In the meantime, I dial Emma about Dane’s new therapy dog.

  “Hello. Emma Blaine,” she answers with a blazing burst of energy.

  “Hi, Emma. This is Neenah Wells. We have a mutual friend in Mag—" I start, but she cuts me off.

  “Hi, Neenah. Yes, I’m so excited to meet you and Dane. When would be a good time for you to come over? I can have Apollo here whenever you’re both ready. I’d like to get them acquainted as soon as possible.”

  “Well, he’s at soccer camp until noon. We can come over later this afternoon or anytime tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

  She breathes heavily into the phone like she’s running. A dog barks in the background. She must be at the park. “Later this afternoon would be perfect. I’m working with another dog now if you couldn’t tell,” she says breathlessly and whistles, holding the phone away from her mouth. “Sorry about that. It’s my break whistle. Would 3:00 PM be convenient for you?”

  “Sure. I would like to caution you. I haven’t told Dane about the dog yet, so I’m not sure how he’s going to react,” I explain.

  “Perfectly understandable. Please know we’ve seen just about everything in this business and know exactly how you feel. Most parents have some apprehension, especially if it’s the child’s first pet. We’ll introduce them slowly and make sure they’re a good match before you take him to his fur-ever home,” she explains confidently.

  Amy comes back and takes her seat, watching her son and the other children on the field.

  “That’s great. Well, you have my number. If you could text me the address, Dane and I would be happy to meet you later,” I say, ending the call after a quick round of goodbyes.

  “Hey,” Amy says, turning sideways with her big belly. “I was thinking about the protesters on my way to the bathroom. How about we stage an anti-protest? You know, one that supports the camp and Ian at the same time. We need to show the public and the Chicago Fire that we support their decisions and their players in this community. What do you think?”

  “I love it! That’s a great idea, but I don’t want to do anything that’s going to knock that baby out of you. Are you sure you’re up for the task?”

  “All of my babies have been late. They miss their due dates like I missed my period when I found they were on their way.”

  We get along easily, planning our non-protest signs and laughing really loudly at times. I can’t believe how quickly the time passes when Ian and Dane come running over to us. We part ways for the day with plans to meet up tomorrow afternoon. I hand over my address in return. I honestly can’t wait for Thursday now.

  She also completely took my mind off missing Ian and for that I’m grateful. My mom always says ‘when a door closes, somewhere a window opens’.

  21

  Ian

  I watch her as much during practice as I can afford to without risking a smack in the face with a ball or a kick in the shins. These kids are gangly and fast, with limbs flying everywhere without any notice. Looks like she’s found a friend, and that makes me so damn happy.

  After getting the equipment put away, I hop in the shower quickly then head to my car. Fuck! Todd is leaning against my car in the garage.

  “Ian, you can’t ignore me forever.” He stands and starts walking towards me at a slow pace but stops halfway. His hands slide into his shorts pockets as he waits for me to catch up to him, pissing me off even more.

  “No, but I can until I know you’ve apologized to my neighbor. For Christ’s sake, Todd. The fucking police had their weapons drawn on them. He’s an autistic kid,” I yell at him, completely exasperated. I swallow down my more hateful words when I realize my voice is reverberating throughout the emptiness of the parking garage. I walk past him, not bothering to stop, and throw my gym bag in the trunk. I slam it closed and take a deep breath before turning to him. “For once in your life, could you kindly consider others in your decisions? You opened that back gate and saw them splashing around in the pool. They weren’t in my home. They weren’t sneaking around stealing my floaties. They were fucking swimming and attempting to have a good day, which by the way, are few and far between for them. You have no idea how rough she has it at times being a single parent with a special needs child.”

  I open up my car door and stand there facing him. Not once have I heard him say he’s sorry for what happened. He just doused me with excuses of how he was protecting my interests. Well, here’s his chance, at least to me anyways. And nothing.

  He takes his car keys from his pocket and twirls them around his fingers for a moment before turning tail and walking away from me.

  I feel empty inside.

  I know he was young when Dad killed himself. He’s told me numerous times he doesn’t remember him all that well, save for a few minor beatings when Dad was too drunk to even stand up. So I stepped in and became his dad, raising him the way I thought a man would raise a boy. I watched the other dads in our neighborhood and those at school. Hell, I even took a few pointers from TV shows. Mom was so stressed out from working two jobs just to feed us, I had to take over for both of them at times. I don’t understand where I went wrong.

  I get inside my car when I hear his tires squeal from the upp
er deck of the garage. I pull out and wind my way around to the front entrance, ignoring the protesters. Their group is swelling into a massive amount of people taking up the whole block. Good grief.

  Todd is stopped at the light just ahead of me. When it turns green the car in front of him doesn’t go immediately. He honks his horn at the driver like a madman. “Jesus, Todd. Calm down,” I say aloud to no one.

  All I can think is that somehow along the way, I missed a lesson. Maybe I gave him too much. Too much attention or maybe not enough responsibility. Either way, I’ve failed him, and it hurts.

  I drive around the city lost in my own thoughts for a long while. I end up at my mother’s house in Prospect Heights, I turn onto her street praying that Todd didn’t go there to sulk. Thank God his car isn’t in the driveway. I pull in and turn the engine off. As soon as I open the door, I can hear her singing in the backyard.

  I stand at the garden gate and watch her quietly. She’s bent over pulling suckers off her tomato plants and belting out a cappella “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston. Her feet are moving to the tune she’s set in her mind. She’s got some wiggle in her steps. I love seeing her happy like this.

  Laura Legend can sing; she just never does, or at least didn’t when we were growing up. My dad would yell at her to hush, saying she sounded like a cat in heat, the asshole that he was.

  I flip the gate latch open and approach her from the side, extending my hand out for her to take it. She smiles when she sees me and places her hand in mine. I turn her a few times, and we step back and forth, dancing in the grass as she sings the chorus. The earthy smells of freshly plucked tomato vines in her other hand permeate the air between us.

  “Ian, what are you doing here?” she finally asks when she catches her breath.

  “I haven’t seen you in a while. I know we’ve talked on the phone, but seeing you is better,” I say, bending to kiss her soft cheek.

  She throws the weeds in the garbage can lid that’s lying on the ground at her feet then goes back to plucking the suckers. “So have you returned your brother’s calls yet?” She throws a knowing look at me.

  “Mama, did he even bother to tell you why I’m not taking his calls?”

  She tosses the final few leaves from her hands into the lid, and I bend to carry the lid to the garbage can and empty it for her.

  “Now you know I don’t get involved in your quarrels. I figured you had a good reason, since you don’t tend to be the stubborn one. He’s got that trait all locked up himself.”

  I chuckle out loud at her words. That’s Mama, honest as the day is long.

  “Let’s go sit in the shade and have some tea. You can tell me all about it.”

  I follow her and take a seat under the big umbrella as she pours us both an iced tea.

  “My new neighbor has an autistic son. I gave her my gate code to use the pool since her boy loves the mini soccer field in my yard, and he loves to swim. He’s actually on my community soccer team. So, anyway—long story short, Todd shows up and calls the cops. They arrive with their guns drawn and then Todd tries to have them arrested for trespassing. It was a real crap show, Mom.”

  “Sounds like him, impetuous as ever, but you know he was looking out for your best interest. He still could’ve called you. It’s not like they were stealing your patio furniture and caught red-handed,” she says matter-of-factly.

  “Exactly. He could’ve messaged me. My game hadn’t started yet since it was only mid-afternoon. I asked him to apologize to her a few days ago, and he still hasn’t done it. Not one single gesture to make amends. It’s really pissing me off.”

  “My boys. How are you so much alike yet so different?” She wipes the sweat beading on her forehead and takes a long sip of her tea.

  “We look alike, but that’s about where the similarities end. We’re totally different people.”

  “May I offer you some motherly wisdom?” She leans in and pats my arm.

  “Like I’d ever say no to you. I rather like my ears on the sides of my head. They’re symmetrical exactly where God put them,” I tease her, and she slaps my arm sharply where she just patted it so lovingly. “All right. Out with it.” I take another swallow of tea, feeling the sugar start to buzz in my brain.

  “Honey, he hasn’t apologized because you haven’t apologized.”

  I drop my cup but catch it before it spills. “Apologize to who? For what?”

  “Hear me out before you go losing that temper of yours. Your fans and the public in general haven’t heard one word from you regarding what happened in Florida. I know you think you haven’t done anything wrong, that you were justified in protecting that woman, but I’m going to tell you now, you were wrong, and you continue to be wrong with your silence.” She sighs heavily after calling me out and leans back into her chair.

  My mother chastising me for my behavior has always been a hard pill to swallow. She’s lived such a harsh life that I vowed a long time ago to never make her sad or disappoint her, but apparently I have. I look away and across the patio to fixate on a crack in the concrete. I need to get that fixed for her before winter comes.

  “I raised you better than that. Violence is never the answer to violence. And if anyone should know that, it’s you.”

  “Mama, I do know that. It’s not that I feel justified in my actions; it’s that I have no excuse to give, therefore, no words to convey to them.” My throat tightens when my eyes meet hers. The downturn of her lips slices through me.

  “Having no excuse is sometimes the only excuse to give. You’re human. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” she says, solemnly quoting the Bible. Her slender hands reach across the table and squeeze mine. “I know you’re going to do the right thing.”

  “Thanks, Mama. I’ll call Todd and Tia when I get home.” I jiggle the ice cubes in my cup and tip it up, drawing one into my mouth to chew on it. It’s turning out to be a hot one for the end of June.

  “Now, I didn’t say you had to use this Tia girl. Don’t let him pressure you into doing something you aren’t comfortable with. Just because his mind is off in la-la land with her sucking his willy well and good, doesn’t mean your best interest is in mind.”

  I spit my ice out onto the table after nearly choking on it. “Mama!”

  “Oh, stop it. You act like I don’t know about such things. How do you think you and your brother came into this world? Osmosis?”

  “I can’t have this type of conversation with you,” I advise without looking at her. I try to disguise the humor in my voice with feigned shock, but I end up chuckling under my breath while kissing her lightly on the cheek. “I’ll fix this, but for now, I’m going to go inside and program your shows on the DVR and wash away the smutty images of you and Dad that formed in my mind.”

  “Oh, honey, you don’t need to do that. Roger programmed them for me,” she says innocently.

  I fold my arms across my chest and face her. “And who is Roger?”

  “The widower from two blocks over on Howell. He’s my morning walk partner and new rummy partner. Louise was getting too pushy about your personal life. She wouldn’t back off, so I had to drop her.” She shrugs her shoulders like it was a no-brainer decision.

  “Well, I’m having a cook-out and pool party on the 4th of July. You’re more than welcome to come and bring this Roger fellow. I want to meet him.” I smile and blow her a kiss as I exit the back gate to my car.

  22

  Neenah

  We pull up to the address Emma sent in her text right on time. The light blue house on Casanova Circle in Schaumberg is adorable, and I immediately admire the bright red geraniums in the flowerpots lining the front walk.

  I haven’t told Dane about the therapy dog because I’d actually like to see him fully surprised for once. It may go badly, but at least I’ll know for future reference. I’d always given him little hints about these types of surprises in order to avoid meltdowns in front of his father. Mentally, I have m
y fingers crossed it goes well. This will be our first test.

  I open up the rear passenger door and wait for Dane to reverse all of his safety checks before springing from the car and onto the street. He sees a squirrel feeder with a dried corn cob hanging from a tree in the front yard and runs to inspect it. He circles it several times, staring up at it and finally looks at me. Confusion clouds his curious little face.

  “It’s a squirrel feeder so they don’t eat the bird food,” I explain, pointing to the bird feeder a little higher up in the branches. Just then, two squirrels chase each other around the top part of the tree, squawking and screeching at each other. Dane runs to me and grabs at the hem of my shorts. “They’re laughing and playing. Watch them.”

  We observe them for a moment as they race around the trees then finally jump onto the power lines above, keenly skipping across their high wire tightrope as they play. Dane quickly loses interest as they move out of sight, so I grab his hand and walk to the front door. He pushes on the doorbell to announce our arrival.

  Within seconds, a petite, bouncy red head appears with the brightest smile I think I’ve ever seen. My gaze is immediately drawn to the bridge of freckles across her nose that connects her cheeks. It seems we are prone to the same angel kisses condition.

  “Neenah and Dane, I presume?” she asks, holding the door open and welcoming us in graciously.

  “Yes, and you must be Emma?” I hold out my hand, and she shakes it softly. Her light handshake throws me off guard, and I suddenly feel like a linebacker for the Vikings.

  “Please come out onto the back patio. It’s a beautiful day.” She leads the way through several large rooms before we enter a sunroom off to the side of the kitchen. Her home smells like cinnamon, and Dane sniffs loudly in the air.

  “Do you like cinnamon, Dane? They’re Bath and Body Works plug-ins,” she confides to me as we step outside into her equally stunning backyard. “I’ll admit to a small addiction to the fall scents, even though I know tomorrow is the first day of summer. I just can’t help myself, so I stock up when they go on sale. My husband calls it a full-blown hoarding. Maybe it is, but it makes me happy.”

 

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