Reinventing Ivy

by Kimber Davis

  "We're not done."

  "You can't be serious!" She beat on his arm but he didn't stop. When they reached the cabin, he pushed the door open and thrust her inside, shutting the door and locking it before taking her into the bathroom.

  He grabbed a bar of soap and shoved it toward her face. "Bite it."

  "Excuse me?" She tried to move away, but he still had hold of her wrist.

  "You heard me. Bite it. Beth was right when she said you needed your mouth washed out with soap. This, I think, is more effective. It's what my ma used to do to me when I did things she wasn't happy about. Bite the soap. Now."

  "You can just kiss my..." He shoved the soap into her mouth, and she bit down, not on purpose but by route, to try to force out the unwanted object. The taste of it invaded her mouth and she gagged, trying to push it out. He held it firm, then leaned in to whisper, "Bite harder, once more. I should have make you bite once for every foul thing you said."

  Humiliation spread through her, warring with the pain she felt from the whipping he'd just given her. She gagged, and when she did her teeth bit down harder. She pushed the bar of soap from her mouth, then ran for the toilet when he let go of her, retching against the foul taste.

  "I hope you remember this tomorrow."

  "I hope you remember it when you're sitting in a jail cell for assault." She reached out to slap him but he grabbed her hand, holding it tightly.

  "There's a difference between being angry, an acting like a child. What you did was very, very childish. You need to get a grip on your anger so you can deal with it, and not hurt others in the process. You're mad, and you have a right to be mad. But you don't have a right to spew hatred."

  She pulled away from him and ran for the door, fumbling with the lock before running outside. The mist seemed to wrap itself around her as she ran toward the main house. When she reached the door, the thought of doing inside made her ill, so she turned and ran toward the trees.

  At the first one she sat down, her aching bottom protesting at the contact with the ground. She cried into her hands at the pain, her tears spilling over onto her cheeks and flooding them. After a few minutes, though, the cries of pain turned into cries of regret, for she knew Stuart was right.

  What she'd said to her father was uncalled for. She'd acted like a spoiled child, and that's exactly what he'd treated her like. Sobs racked her body as she crumbled into the wet earth and wondered what she would ever say to him when she saw him next.

  They needed to talk about her feelings like adults. She just hated it that Stuart was right.

  Chapter Four

  "So James, what's the catch?"

  "Excuse me?" Her cousin took a sip from his beer and shot a confused gaze her way.

  "The catch. There's always a catch when someone says you're inheriting money, like you have to complete a certain task within a year." Please God don't let it be marriage or having a baby or something. She took a sip of her own beer.

  "No catch," James said. "Uncle Ham wouldn't do something like that."

  Ivy bit her tongue, and then glanced at Stuart, who narrowed his eyes at her. The message was clear. Watch your mouth or you'll find yourself getting more of what you got last night. There was a silence, and finally she cleared her throat.

  "What if I want out?"

  "Out?" James shook his head in confusion. "Out of what?"

  "The whole thing. I don't want part of the bar, and I don't want any money. Where do I sign for that?"

  James stared at her, dumbfounded. She licked her lips and then took a deep, even breath.

  "None of it?"

  "That's right, none of it."

  His confusion was clear on his face. "Why would you do that?"

  "Because, my father was never a part of my life. Why would I want something now that he's lying on his death bed?"

  "Because he wants you to have it?" James cocked his head at her, his bewilderment still evident. "I'm not sure I understand what's happening here. I thought we were going to go over the will, then have you sign on the papers for the bar. It's already in your name. All I need is your signature. Uncle Ham wanted that taken care of before he died."

  Ivy nodded, and then took another slow sip of her drink. "What I'm telling you is I don't want it. Give it all to him." She jerked her thumb toward Stuart.

  "You realize what you're giving up?"

  "What? I don't live here, and I don't plan on living here."

  James picked up the papers and put them back into his briefcase. Then he turned to his cousin. "Listen, I'm not sure what's going on here, but owning part of the bar doesn't mean you have to live here. You can live at home, and still make money off of it."

  "I won't benefit off someone who hasn't been a part of my life." She stared at him, hoping this time he understood she wasn't changing her mind.

  "I see." He nodded. "Well, he'll be disappointed to hear that, I'm sure. I'll have more papers drawn up that say you give up your claim to The Ivy, and the money."

  "Good."

  James nodded, and then took a long drink. "I have a drive ahead of me, but I understand we're having dinner with you and Ham on Friday next, so I'll see you then, and I'll have the papers for you at that time."

  "Thank you." They shook hands and then he got up to leave. When he was gone, Stuart shook his head.

  "You're an idiot, you know that."

  "Why? What sort of person would I be if I cussed someone my whole life, and then turned around and took his money?

  "Well, I suppose I can see your point when you put it that way. And let's not forget you cussed him right to his face. And now, refusing his money, his gift, it's like you're slapping him in the face."

  Her stomach churned with his words. "You don't know anything. I'm ready to go home, now."

  She started to stand, then sat back down when a huge man came and sat in the space James had just vacated. He held out his hand to her. "Jock Liggit, at your service, Miss Ivy. I've seen your photos as you've grown. A right pretty one you are."

  "Thank you." She shook his hand. It still amazed her that Ham had received regular reports from her mother, who had told her absolutely nothing about him, or about what she was doing. "I suppose you're a friend of Ham's?"

  "That's right, he and I owned The Ivy together for a long time, until he bought me out when my wife decided she wanted to travel and see the world. We're home for a month, and then we're heading to the Orient."

  "Sounds like a lot of fun." Ivy tried not to think how different this man was from her father, traveling the world with his wife while his former partner was confined to a bed, never knowing if he would wake up the next day or not. "Was it always called The Ivy?"

  "Oh yes, your da insisted, and I was fine with it." Jock slapped the table. "I'm thrilled that you'll be part of it, of course. It just wouldn't be the same without a MacNaught at the head."

  Before Ivy could say anything, Stuart put his hand on hers and squeezed. "You're right, Jock, I think it's wonderful, too."

  She wanted to contradict him, but memories of last night floated through her mind. She didn't want to set Stuart off, either. She still had to ride back to her father's house with this man, and there was any expanse of quiet roadway he could pull over on, and try to spank her again. The optimum word here being try. This time she would be ready for him. Still, for now, she'd let Jock think she was going to be part of The Ivy. No sense in rocking the boat too early. They'd all figure it out when she went back home.

  Ivy was sure the first thing Stuart would do would be to change the name. Maybe to The Stuart, or just Stuart's Pub.

  She took a sip from her drink, and then looked at him. "May we go?"

  "I don't understand you. Your father's trying to be nice, trying to make amends and you'll have none of it. Why?"

  "Can money make up for a lifetime of neglect?"

  "Maybe not, but it certainly can't hurt to know you'll be receiving money every month."

  That part was true. It was tough
to go from month to month working temporary jobs and worrying about making enough to pay her rent, utilities and other bills.

  "It's not about the money."

  "No, it's about the fact that you're bitter, and you want to stay that way. You don't even want to take a chance at letting go of it, and that's what accepting his gift would accomplish, letting go of a bit of your anger."

  "You know nothing about me, so don't you dare try and judge me."

  Stuart leaned closer. "Yesterday you seemed like you would try to take a change. You asked me to help you mind your manners around your father, and then you went on a tear, calling him names and throwing a fit. Why?"

  "I don't have to answer that."

  "You don't have to, no. But sometimes when we talk about things we learn a lot about ourselves, and why we do something. So talk to me."

  "Don't you dare be nice to me." She wanted to slap the grin off his face.

  "I'm all ears. We can order food." When she didn't answer he stood and went to the bar. She watched him as he ordered, then came back and sat down. "A few fish suppers and some crisps. You do like fish, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. Now, tell me what set you off last night."

  "So, you're a spank first and ask questions later type of guy." Once again she wanted to smack the grin off his face.

  "I suppose you could say that."

  "It was a combination of things that are none of your business."

  "You asked for my help, and I'd like to give it. Talk to me." He emphasized the words this time and she sighed heavily.

  "It was your arrogance about spanking, it was learning that my mother has told my father everything about me, yet she wouldn't tell me a thing, it was hearing him talking about his undying love that lasted all of fifteen minutes."

  "I'm sorry to hear I helped to upset you."

  She laughed softly, and then nodded at a young woman who sat down plates, a heaping platter of fish and chips, and a basket of potato chips.

  "More drinks?" She cocked her head at Stuart.

  "No, Maggie, thanks."

  When she was gone, Ivy took some fish and some of the chips from her plate. She whisked vinegar over the fish, and then put ketchup down for the chips. She dunked a chip in the sauce, and then cleared her throat.

  "I'd like to blame you, and hate you, but truthfully it wasn't your fault. I never should have come here."

  "Wouldn't it be worse for you to never meet your da?"

  "Would it? Maybe it would be better for him to go to his grave looking at the photos of me at a toddler then remembering the woman who cussed him out."

  "Then make it up to him. He loves to play chess. Sit with him tonight and enjoy a game or two. If he's up to it, that is. He seemed to be in good spirits before we left today, which usually carries over."

  She took a bite of fish, chased it with a drink "I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe my going into his room will just bring about another tirade on my part."

  "Or maybe you can be an adult and behave yourself and just sit with him, without me, and without Beth."

  "Maybe." She finished off a piece of fish, and then took another one. "This is really good."

  "The Ivy is known for their fish and chips, or just fish suppers as we Scots call them."

  "Is that how my father amassed more than a million pounds, by selling fish?"

  "Among other things. The pub is busy most of the time, so it makes money, yes." Stuart ate his own fish, and then wiped his mouth. "Now it does, anyway. I'm not sure it did at first, but for the last fifteen years it's done very well."

  "That's nice to know." She toyed with her fish, thinking about sitting with her father tonight What would she say to him? This morning he'd been more than magnanimous with her, something she wasn't sure she would be with someone who'd screamed at them the night before.

  "It's just a chess game," Stuart said with a laugh. "You don't have to love him by the end of it, but it would be nice if you at least liked him, just a little."

  "I agree," she said. "But I'm not sure how easy that's going to be."

  "Promise me you'll try."

  "Are you going to spank me if I don't say yes?"

  "It's a distinct possibility."

  "Then yes, I'll try. But that's the only promise I'm making."

  "Thank you."

  She sneered at him. "Listen buster, I'm doing this for my father, not for you. And while were talking heart-to-heart, let me tell you that if you try and spank me one more time I won't be responsible for how I react."

  His laughter made her blood boil. "Point taken, but I just want to say I didn't try to spank you. I did spank you. And I'll do it again, if the need arises. I want you to keep that in mind while you're pondering your words around your da."

  * * *

  "Oh, bullocks."

  "Geeze, there's never a bar of soap around when you need one." Ivy undid her seatbelt, and then turned to Stuart. "I take it you're not happy about whoever's here?"

  She looked toward the strange car parked in front of her father's house.

  "You'd be spot on. Just ignore the man."

  "Why? If you don't like him, I'm sure I'll love him." She made to get out of the vehicle, and then stopped when Stuart put his hand on her arm.

  "I'm serious, Ivy. This man is not one to be trusted."

  "Why is that?"

  "Just take my word for it, please." Ivy bit back a smart retort, and got out of the car. She walked inside with him hot on her heels. When they were at the door she wheeled on him.

  "Is he a cop or something? You afraid I'm going to file charges against you for my spanking?"

  "No, he's not a cop. He's just a jerk."

  She stifled a laugh. If anyone was the jerk it was Stuart, and he'd just given her the perfect way to bother him. "What's the matter, did he steal your girlfriend? Or your wife?"

  "Just ignore him."

  "Thanks for the order, but I think I'll do as I please."

  He grabbed her arm and she turned to him. "What?"

  "I'm serious. Don't trust him as far as you can throw him."

  "That's how I feel about you, too. You'll forgive me if I don't take your words as gold." She pulled her arm away and hurried up the stairs. Outside her father's door, Beth stood with a man who looked to be in his early 40s. He wasn't classically handsome, but Ivy noticed his rugged looks right away. Tall and muscular, he looked like he could pick up a car without breaking a sweat.

  He looked at her as she topped the stairs and a large smile spread across his face.

  "The famous Ivy?"

  "Or infamous, depending on who you ask." Ivy cut her eyes to Stuart, who came up next to her and glared at the man.

  "Tyler Jameson." He held out his hand and she shook it. I'm an old friend of your da's."

  "Don't you mean former friend?" Stuart moved to where Ivy was just to his left and behind him. She shook her head at his attempt to protect her from this man.

  "Tavish, I thought you'd be in prison by now. Too bad I was wrong."

  Ivy glanced between the two of them, waiting for one of them to pitch out the next verbal stab, or actually throw out a fist. When they didn't she cleared her throat.

  "Are you here to see my father?"

  "Yes, but he seems to be having a bad day. So I thought I'd come back tomorrow."

  "Don't bother," Stuart said. "He won't agree to see you even if he's having a good day and you know it."

  "Why not?" Ivy stepped around Stuart and sneered at him while her back was turned to Tyler. When she turned back around, she was all smiles.

  "Your da and I had a bit of an argument a few years back. We've since made amends, but Tavish still thinks bad of me, more likely, he thinks I'm scum."

  "I know you are. And it was more than a few years, it was more like fifteen, if you remember correctly."

  Ivy frowned. Fifteen years. That was the amount of time Stuart said her father had been doing well. Did his "tiff" with this man have anythin
g to do with that? She opened her mouth to ask what the tiff was, gasping when Stuart clamped his hand down on her shoulder.

  "You know where the door is, Jameson. Don't let it hit your ass on the way out."

  Jameson laughed, and then turned his gaze to Ivy. "How are you enjoying Scotland?"

  "Fine. It's cold."

  "Well it is January. Why don't you let me take you to dinner tonight, to get you out of the house."

  Ivy said yes at the same time Stuart said no. She shook her head as she turned to him. "I can make my own decisions, thank you. And the answer is yes, I'd love to go to dinner with you."

  "You already have plans for this evening, remember? You planned on playing chess with your da."

  "Well, if father's having a bad day then he won't be up to chess." She looked behind Tyler to where Beth stood. The nurse gave her a nod, and then winced, so she knew her father's bad day was not an excuse to keep Tyler out of his room. "There's no sense in me sitting around here with nothing to do. Going out will be fun."

  "Great." Tyler inclined his head at her. "I'll pick you up around seven. There's a nice little restaurant in town where we can get to know each other better. I'll show myself out."

  Ivy didn't miss the look of triumph he shot Stuart's way before he left. It made her a little uneasy but she would be damned if she would let Stuart know that. He had no one to blame for this but himself, anyway. He should never have told her who she could and couldn't like, that was a surefire way to get her to do the opposite thing.

  "Proud of yourself?" His voice was deeply menacing.

  "For pissing you off? Oh yeah." She turned to Beth. "How is he?"

  "Very tired today. The last few days have been very eventful, and he's sleeping, although fitfully. He should be ready for visitors tomorrow, hopefully."

  "Thanks." She moved off toward her room, stopping when Stuart called her name.

  "May I talk with you?"

  "No."

  She heard the door to her father's room open and shut, and she knew Beth had gone inside.