Hot Georgia Rein

by Martha Sweeney

  I’m such a sucky dad. The first two times he meets me and I’m running away. Does shit like that cause a kid to need therapy? I sure hope not. I’ll pay for it, but I’m hoping that I haven’t damaged him.

  I turn to head back inside the house, trying to rectify my actions when I see Ivy dart out of the doorway as she shouts my name.

  “Henry!” she calls a second time, running down the porch stairs. “Hen…” her voice falters when she turns and sees me.

  We stand awkwardly, unable to talk.

  My mouth feels dry as my heart breaks seeing the pain in her eyes and knowing I just might have done the same thing to my son.

  “Please,” she begs, taking a few, rushed steps toward me. Ivy pauses suddenly as if unsure of our proximity. “Please,” she gulps. “Just…just let me explain.”

  I feel my head shake as the expression on her face falls. My mouth can’t move to object or confirm to let her know I’m not stopping her from explaining, nor the fact that I’m sorry for having left the way I have twice now.

  “I can understand why you’d be mad,” she continues as she moves cautiously up the steps. “I planned on telling you, I swear. There were several times where I tried to talk to you while I was back. We just got pulled into our old habits like usual…not that I minded…I… I actually enjoyed them.” An awkward smile pops on her face momentarily. “They gave me hope that telling you would be easier…that you’d understand.”

  I shift because my left leg starts to feel tingly which causes Ivy to pause for several long seconds. I try to speak, but words won’t form.

  “You have to understand,” Ivy begins, pausing when I take a step toward her. “There was no right decision or answer in any of this for me,” she states, curling her arms around her body.

  I nod, hoping that that action alone will comfort her since I still don’t know what to say let alone know if I want to interrupt her. It might be best to let her talk so I don’t say the wrong thing or have a bunch of words come out that don’t make any sense.

  “If I had come back, you would have been marked a cheater and we might not have worked out since I knew my place was in New York. I needed to go back for many reasons…aside for some selfish and some not so selfish, I think it gave you and Julianna a chance at your marriage.”

  It sucks to hear her say what she’s saying, but it does make sense. We would have been labeled. Julianna and I might not have married, maybe we would have, but we would have been even more unhappy if there was a child involved.

  “If I had told you that you were a father, you would have abandoned her and…and well, we wanted and perhaps needed different things then…we wouldn’t have been able to make things work.” Ivy pauses for a breath.

  “You don’t know that,” I mumble despite knowing that we might not have.

  “You wouldn’t have had the chance for the life you’ve created for yourself…you wouldn’t have found yourself and your business.” Tears pour from her eyes and she looks away.

  I only nod, not wanting to focus on the topic my business, if Ivy even really knows or not. I also admit to myself that I might not have ever done anything with my life if she stayed—if I knew about my son. My gaze falls to the ground as all of the different possibilities cycle through my head.

  She’s right. There are so many outcomes that could have come from a different decision, one of which that would have made her resent me for wanting to stay and me resenting her for wanting to leave. We weren’t on the same path then—not all the way.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ivy sobs. “I tried choosing the less painful decision, but they all were painful regardless. I tried to pick the least selfish one.”

  My eyes lift to her face and I catch a hint of her strength coming back in her gaze.

  “I never thought about having an abortion…it was never an option,” she shares. “And, I’m sure in time, you would have met your son whether Julianna was around or not. I just didn’t know how or when it would be right.”

  I let out a heavy sigh, happy to hear that she never thought about ending our son’s life. Despite our issues, our challenges, that kid is alive.

  “I don’t regret it…any of it,” she continues. “I don’t regret having him. I don’t regret giving you up back then even though it was the hardest thing I had ever done.” It takes Ivy a few seconds to collect herself. “He was my salvation when I found out that I was pregnant,” she states. “He was the one thing that I was granted that was a part of you…to keep a fantastic memory of you every day of my life. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to meet him, but I didn’t want him to be marked as a bastard by the people in this town. He’s an innocent child who would suffer from his parents’ mistakes and I wasn’t willing to do that to him. I hope you understand why I did or didn’t do certain things. I wasn’t being selfish. I was trying to do right by him.”

  “Dada. Mama,” the boy calls from the doorway, banging on the screen.

  “What’s…” I choke as I see his shadow. “What’s…his name?”

  Ivy smiles as more tears stream down her face. “Henry Lee Rein, Jr.”

  I feel as if I’ve been struck in the heart by an electric current. A smile forms on my face as warmth spreads throughout my body. “He…he has my name?”

  Ivy nods. “Yes.”

  “Dada…Mama,” he calls again faintly as I hear Ivy’s Mom trying to direct him back inside.

  “How…How does he know me?” I ask, needing to hear it from her.

  “He’s seen pictures of you since the day I took him home from the hospital,” she states. “Every night before bed, we’d look at a picture of us and I’d tell him who you were…that you loved him, but couldn’t be with him yet.”

  “You could have told me,” I state. “You could have told me about him.”

  Ivy’s head shakes. “I tried,” she reminds.

  I nod. She did try to talk to me several times. Other things just happened.

  “You and I both know that there would have been a lot of pain…a lot of resentment…not just with us, but with several other people if I told you sooner,” she adds.

  My head bobs even though I don’t really want to admit it. “Yeah,” I huff. “But, you could have told me the minute you were back.”

  “I tried,” she sighs. “I honestly did…I think I was more scared to say it rather than see your reaction to it all.”

  “So…so what do we do?” I check, hoping she can guide me through this.

  I feel completely clueless. If I told the truth, I think that I’m actually relieved a little that I didn’t know right away. Things would have been too complicated for Ivy and me, probably scaring the kid more than not having me in his life.

  “What do you want to do?” Ivy asks. “I don’t want to tell you to do anything you don’t want to. I just ask that…even if you can never forgive me, please…please, don’t take it out on him.”

  A split second later, I’ve got Ivy in my arms and I’m kissing her. “I want you,” I confess, taking her mouth again. “I want him.” Our bodies slam against the house. I take a deep breath. “I want us,” I say keeping my mouth against hers.

  I feel Ivy’s lips curl into a smile against mine. “Me too,” she agrees.

  She releases me slightly, looking at my face.

  I pull her closer, afraid to lose her again. “I told you when you came back that nothing that’s happened will change anything between us. And, I still mean it.”

  “I know this won’t be easy…it’ll take time to figure it all out,” Ivy states. “But, we’ll take it slow.”

  I snort. “You know that’s not our speed, Firefly.”

  Ivy grins. “Says the man who owns Firefly Resort and Spa.”

  “Grady,” I seethe under my breath. “I’ll kill him for telling you.”

  “No,” Ivy says. “I saw the sign that was leaning against the side of your garage.”

  “What were you doing snooping?” I tease.

  “Trying to
pass time while I waited for you to get back here,” Ivy replies with a smile.

  “Flattery isn’t going to work, Firefly,” I goad.

  “No?” she checks playfully.

  My eyes narrow. “Maybe.”

  37 Ivy

  I was honestly not sure how Henry was going to respond when I started explaining everything. I was surprised that he let me talk as much as I had without walking off or interrupting me. I expected him to be mad, to yell, but I guess he was either too tired from the drive or because he had plenty of time to think. We’ve always been able to talk. Well, I’ve always been able to talk while Henry always listened.

  It’s been two months since Henry has officially met his son and I’m thrilled by our progress overall. I stayed in Blackburn for a few extra days with Henry Jr. before returning to New York. Henry went with us and seemed to adjust pretty well. He wasn’t a fan of flying because he’s never done it, but I think he toughed it out well. I could tell he was panicking a little, but once I got him a tiny bottle of liquor, his nerves calmed quickly.

  My heart melted the first night we spent together. Henry told me he loved me and that there’s no way of getting rid of him. I laughed and my soul warmed. I’m still nervous, wondering if things are going to really work between us, but the future is looking brighter and brighter each day we’re together as a family.

  For the first week in New York, Cece came over when I needed to take care of business stuff instead of us going into the office. Henry was just learning the basics with our son and seemed really anxious when I left for an hour to meet up with a new client the second day we were there. He’s starting to get the hang of things now and isn’t giving into Henry Jr.’s little demands as quickly. Henry mastered letting Henry Jr. cry himself to sleep by the second night when it had resulted in him not getting laid because I feel asleep in bed while he tried to calm our son.

  We travel back and forth, spending a week in New York and then one in Georgia while we get our new living arrangements handled. Henry has sold the house that he and Julianna had and we’re moved a number of things into the one house I saw back when we went zip-lining—the one that Henry secretly owned and built for us.

  All of our secrets have been laid out on the table and it feels as if the last three years of us being apart hasn’t really happened. I’m still nervous to share with Henry that it all feels like I’m dreaming and will wake up any second, but I keep pinching myself to make sure I’m awake and to count my blessings.

  Henry let me assist with Firefly Resort & Spa which is already proving to be very beneficial. They’re almost booked solid for the next six months. Grady’s been doing a great job handling everything for the company as well, working closely with Drew on what my team has been creating.

  “Do you think we need more ice?” Henry checks, coming into the kitchen from the back porch.

  “No,” I reply, not bothering to look at him as I finalize the last few plates of food.

  “What about balloons?” he inspects.

  “Papa is taking care of them,” I remind. “He’s got the last little bit in the garage and is putting them where they go.”

  “What about pool toys?” Henry inquires.

  My gaze finally lifts to find his face. “Henry Lee Rein…sit your ass down on that stool and do not get up until I tell you.”

  “What?” he snorts.

  “You’re in timeout,” I inform.

  “For what?” he asks, lowering his ass to the seat.

  “For driving me crazy,” I reply. “There’s more than enough food, toys, and everything else for the party.”

  “But, he’s only three once,” Henry states.

  “He won’t remember it,” I reply.

  “So, you don’t plan on taking pictures,” he pushes sarcastically.

  I glower at him. “I will make you sit on your hands and face the corner if you keep that shit up,” I direct sternly while trying not to be amused by his antics.

  Henry smiles, knowing he’s getting to me.

  What he’s hopefully realizing is that this is not a day to mess with me, not when we have more people than I’d like coming over to the house. I know that Henry Jr. has been socializing a little with a few of the kids in town, but I’m still suspicious of the parents. I can tell they’re judging me, judging us. Though no one has said anything outright, nor in a way for my family to overhear, I’m sure Mrs. Summerlin has had a few choice words about us. I just don’t want the drama. I’m tired of it.

  “I’m just saying….”

  “You’re looking to not get laid for a week if you keep that up,” I inform sternly.

  Henry frowns and remains quiet.

  “What did Henry do now?” Grady asks walking into the kitchen from the hall that leads to the mudroom.

  “Nothing,” I lie, avoiding the topic.

  “Is this some weird, kinky sex shit you straight people do?” Grady goads.

  “Doesn’t matter your sexual orientation,” I reply. “Sexy and kinky shit comes in all forms, styles, and sizes.”

  “Why are we talking about sex and kinky stuff during a three-year-old’s birthday party?” Papa inquires, walking in with a bunch of balloons.

  “The party hasn’t started yet,” I remind. “Plus, there aren’t any other children here.”

  “That’s because your brother won’t give us any grand babies,” Papa teases. “When are you and Henry giving us our next one? I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

  “Papa,” I scold.

  He and Grady laugh.

  “Why are you laughing?” Papa asks, slapping Grady on the arm. “Get to marrying Drew and adopt us some grand babies.”

  Grady let’s out a sigh. “Dad. We’ve only been dating a month.”

  I smile, happy to know that the topic is off of me and Henry for once. My parents have been pushing for us to have another baby, not a wedding, just another grandchild. I think my parents’ priorities are backward.

  “Why are you so quiet?” Papa asks, looking to Henry who has a serious expression on his face.

  “We can do that easily…make more babies,” Henry states. “I just need y’all to go home.”

  “Not happening,” I challenge.

  “Why not?” Papa checks.

  “Not that you’re involved in this decisions,” I preface. “But, we have a birthday party starting in twenty minutes and we’re not having another kid.”

  “Why not?” Papa and Henry inquire at the same time.

  “Because,” I answer.

  “Because why?” Henry searches.

  My eyes narrow at the three of them, but I refuse to comment further.

  “Uh oh,” Papa chuckles. “She’s serious….let’s give them some space.” Papa pulls Grady with his free hand and they leave the kitchen.

  I resume my task at hand, getting all of the food platters situated.

  “Why not?” Henry asks gently.

  “Because,” I reply, not looking at him.

  “That’s not an answer,” Henry returns.

  I shrug, keeping my eyes down and not wanting to talk about the subject now or for a while if I can avoid it.

  “Ivy,” Henry pushes, getting up from his seat.

  “Not now, Henry,” I inform, pulling something from the fridge.

  “Why not?” he asks gently, coming up behind me.

  When I continue to prepare the food and refuse to look at him, Henry comes up behind me and wraps his strong arms around my waist. “Ivy,” he coos in my ear, nuzzling his face in my neck.

  I ignore him the best that I can. My body responds instantly, but I stay quiet.

  “Ivy,” he calls, nipping at my ear. His fingers tighten on my hips. “Talk to me.”

  “About what?” I feign, trying to stay focused.

  Henry spins me around to face him faster than I get the chance to stop him. “Talk to me,” he requests a little more sternly.

  “There’s nothing to talk about right now,” I stat
e, trying to turn back. “We have guests coming.”

  “Ivy Lynn Abney,” Henry states more commandingly.

  “We’re not talking about this now,” I inform sternly.

  Henry studies me for a few long seconds and then nods. “Later,” he confirms, kissing my forehead.

  I go to resume my task, but he blocks me.

  “I love you,” he says, taking a gentle hold of my chin.

  I smile and nod, wanting to diffuse the tense. “Love you too,” I reply.

  Henry leans in and kisses me.

  I pull away, but he stops me by pulling me closer, holding the back of my head, wanting a deeper, more passionate kiss.

  “Ew, get a room,” Cece’s voice booms.

  “Ha ha, very funny,” I reply sarcastically.

  “A few of the guests have already arrived,” Cece informs. I just had them go around back rather than come through the house for now. I hope that’s okay?”

  “That’s great, thanks,” I return. “I’m just finishing up.” I look at Henry. “Why don’t you go greet them and I”ll be right out. I’m sure Tyrell and the others are here.”

  Henry eyes me, letting me know that our conversation isn’t over, but rather temporarily postponed. He kisses my cheek before heading out back, leaving Cece and me alone.

  “What was that all about?” Cece checks.

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  “Bullshit that was nothing,” she muses. “That was either some serious sexual tension or you’re avoiding something.”

  “I’m not avoiding anything,” I fib.

  “What are you not avoiding?” Momma asks, coming into the kitchen from outside.

  “Nothing,” I repeat.

  Momma studies me for several beats. “Your guests are starting to arrive,” she informs.

  “Cece told me,” I reply. “I’ll be right out once I’m down with these.”

  Momma nods and goes back outside.

  “So?” Cece pries.

  “So what?” I return, finishing the last plate.

  “Girl, I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re bullshitting,” Cece says lowly. “I understand if you don’t want to talk now…but, you need talk about what’s bothering you.”