by L. B. Dunbar
I don’t know how much time passes, but Ivy drifts off. When I stop strumming, she doesn’t move.
“Ivy?” I whisper. She doesn’t stir. I prop my guitar against the loveseat and stand, rubbing my hands against my thighs. I whisper her name once again a little louder but not loud enough to startle her. Slipping a hand behind her back, I tuck my arm under her bent legs.
“Gage,” she mutters, her voice low and sleepy.
“I’m going to carry you to bed.”
“You want to sleep with me,” she teases in her groggy voice.
You have no idea. But I chuckle off her flirty words. “Not tonight, gorgeous.” She wraps her arms around my neck, allowing me to adjust her to cradle her against my chest. I carry her to her bedroom. Tommy’s given her the master suite for privacy while he takes another room and us guys share the last bedroom. As I lay her down on the mattress, she releases me, rolling on her side.
“Stay with me,” she whispers, and I stare down at her back. Grabbing the blanket, I pull it up over her so I’m not tempted, though I’m so tempted. If only I thought she asked in earnest. For some reason, I know I’ll give this girl anything she asks for, but not until she’s ready.
“Some other night,” I repeat, hoping I’ll get a second chance with her.
6
IVY
I dream he stays, just holding me. I don’t think I’ve ever cuddled with a lover. I think back on the variety of men, and the immediate answer is no, no I have not.
Men can hold you but don’t let them hold your heart.
What would it feel like if someone did both?
I wake surprisingly refreshed, feeling lighter with one week down and some extra company to fill our time. The boys are going parasailing this morning, and Tommy and I plan to hit the pool. Now that he knows I’m pregnant, I don’t feel as self-conscious about removing my cover-up, but I might keep it on for good measure. Tommy takes us to a roped off section of the pool deck that’s guarded by security to give us privacy. It screams someone important over here, but it also assures us people won’t constantly pester us.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop the ladies from lingering and checking out my uncle. No matter how many years have passed since the band broke up, Tommy is recognized everywhere he goes. He’s graying at the temples, and it’s mixing in with his beard. In a few more years, he’ll be an interesting mix of salt and pepper. The women taking their time to stroll by don’t seem to care he’s almost forty compared to their late twenties.
“You know, you should find an older woman, one more your own age,” I tease.
“Now where would the fun be in that?” He winks, and I’m thankful that at least as I age, he’s no longer going for women who are in their early twenties. He’s tapping closer to thirty, lately. I chuckle as I respond.
“Oh, I don’t know…You might have more in common with her. Maybe she’ll appreciate your secret love of the Bee Gees.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He laughs outright before waving over a waitress to take his drink order.
“I saw you last night with Gage.”
“Saw me?” I question. Nothing happened with Gage, and I’m sadly disappointed.
“On the patio.” He pauses a second. “I have to ask. Cash?”
I nod, lowering my head, embarrassed.
“Darlin’, condoms—”
I raise a hand to stop him. I don’t need the lecture. Nothing’s foolproof, and I obviously was a fool.
“You’re asking for trouble if you go for Gage next.”
“Tommy,” I shriek, appalled.
“I like the kid. I do. He has vision. He’s got a goal, baby girl, but it doesn’t involve a commitment to a woman, especially not one with a baby on the way.”
I glance left and right before hissing in his direction. “You don’t think I don’t know that? What man is going to want me now?”
“Any man, but you have other priorities as well.” I briefly wonder if Tommy gave this same lecture to my mother when she showed up pregnant and not married to my father, but ready to take the world by storm.
“I’m not going after him,” I repeat, my eyes drifting to the pool and noticing three built men entering the area. Their aura leaves no question despite the aviators covering their eyes: rock stars. A headband pulls back Petty’s crazy blond hair, but his body reads sexy as sin. Jared looks tamer but equally as good looking in a hometown hero sort of way, and then there is Gage. With a leather strap around his neck and a medallion dangling before his bare chest, and the dark waves on his head, his swagger demands attention. I watch them circle the pool, turning heads in their direction. Petty waves at some girls in the pool, but my eyes focus on Gage.
“You have that look in your eyes like when your mother saw Hank, especially when he was with another woman.”
My mother and Hank Paige had an on-again, off-again relationship that was explosive at the worst of times. He loved her. She loved him. But she denied him the one thing he wanted most—her as his wife. It was a sick game she played, and I’ll never understand why she didn’t say yes.
“And how is that?” I ask Tommy, pulling my eyes from Gage.
“Hungry.” Tommy’s voice drops, accentuating the Southern drawl he tries to cover.
“I’m always hungry in my condition,” I tease, ignoring him.
“Speaking of…” Tommy’s eyes drift to our approaching visitors. “Doctors? Your due date?”
“I’m covered, Uncle Tommy.”
“I’m just worried about—” I raise a hand to stop him. I know what he’s going to say—or rather who he’s going to mention—and I don’t want to discuss it.
“I’m looking into it.” I have a test scheduled for when I return to Los Angeles.
“I’ll take care of everything.” He’s referring to insurance and hospital stays and anything else I’ll need for a baby.
“I know you will,” I say, smiling at him. He’s such a good man. “But for once, I think I need to take care of me.”
“No need to be a martyr when you have family, baby.” Tommy speaks from his experience of his own parents disowning my mother when she ran off—pregnant and unmarried. Tommy’s eyes stay trained on the boys as they draw closer.
“You’re a smart girl, Ivy. Don’t be stupid,” he warns. But my heart races when Gage pulls down his aviators to look in my direction, and I know I want to get stupid with him.
And that’s just…stupid.
7
GAGE
Slow down, I tell myself. Keep your cool, dude.
But the way Ivy watches me as I round the pool has my heart racing and my feet wanting to run to her. She passed on the parasailing, much to my disappointment, but it was good to hang with the guys. We’ve been out of sorts since Cash’s death, but it’s time to get back on track. I’m anxious to get us into the studio again. Of course, that means we need some new songs. Last night turned out to be productive for me, both before I played for Ivy and long after I took her to her room.
“Man, I’m exhausted,” Petty says, throwing himself into a lounger next to Ivy. What the…? I want to tell him to move, but I don’t. I sit at the end of another sun chair next to him while Jared falls face-first onto the one on the other side of me.
“I can’t believe how hard that was,” Jared mumbles into the cushion.
“How hard was it?” Petty giggles like an immature teen instead of a man in his twenties. Jared ignores the joke.
“Holding on is hard,” Jared mutters, rolling his head to face us.
“I like to be held hard.” Petty chuckles. “And I plan to be, right after I meet her.” He nods toward a redhead making eyes at him from the other side of the pool.
“Dude,” I hiss, my eyes tracking over to Ivy. “Don’t be rude.” I nod in her direction, and Petty laughs again.
“Ivy’s like one of the guys. She knows I’m constantly horny. You don’t mind, right, Ivy?”
Before she can ans
wer, Tommy sits up and snaps at Petty. “Be careful.”
Petty waits until Tommy falls back on his lounger before he salutes the older guy. The salute reminds me of the first time I met Ivy.
“So how was parasailing?” Ivy asks, her attention on me. She’s wearing a see-through cover-up in swirls of orange and white. Her hair, piled up on her head, seems brighter under the sunlight. She smiles as she speaks to me, and my heart jack-knives in my chest.
“Fun,” I say at the same time Petty says, “Hard. So hard.”
“Dude,” I mumble while Ivy shakes her head and giggles. She sits forward, drawing her knees up to her chest.
“What have you guys been up to?” I ask, hoping to keep her talking to me.
“Just hanging in the sun. It’s warm today.” It’s Hawaii. It’s very warm, but a nice ocean breeze keeps the temperature manageable. Still, a dip in the pool might be refreshing even though we just came from parasailing. I drop my glasses behind me, tug off my shirt, and stand to face Ivy.
“Come swimming.” I’m not asking. I hold out my hand, begging her to take it.
She brushes at wisps of loose hair around her face. “Oh, I’m good.”
“Come on,” I tease, wiggling my fingers. My lip tilts up in a smile I hope she can’t deny.
“No, thank you,” she says, shaking her head while her growing grin teases me. Her legs slip forward, straightening. Her hands cup under her thighs.
“Then you leave me no choice.” I step forward, shoulder to her stomach, and lift her. She squeals, and I assume it’s from delight. Her feet wiggle to kick me, so I adjust her, so she doesn’t hit the goods, which is already hard from having her over my shoulder. If I knew her better, I’d spank her ass near my cheek. If I turn my head, I could suck on her thigh and leave a mark on her skin. My mouth waters with the thought, and I’m so lost in my fantasy about it that I don’t hear her plea.
“Gage, please.” She pats on my back, not pounding but strong enough to grab my attention with the sting of her palm on my skin. I spin us for the pool, preparing to dump her, covered and all, and then she grunts, “Put me down.”
“In you go,” I tease, taking a step toward the pool.
“Gage, don’t throw me,” she begs, her voice straining.
“Just a little dip to cool you off,” I mumble, hiking her up so her belly lands on my shoulder. She harrumphs with the shift.
“Please. My stomach. I’m pregnant.”
The world stops around me. I no longer hear the ocean or kids laughing in the pool. The sun dims, and the waitstaff stalls their service as my brain screams, What!?
I quickly grab her hips and lower her down my body, not releasing her even when she stands before me. Her hands land on my shoulders.
“What?” I swallow as the single-word question fills my mouth like cotton balls, drying the inside.
“I’m…I’m pregnant,” she repeats, her voice quiet as her lids shut off her eyes from my view. My fingers drop from her hips, and I take a step back. My chest heaves as if I’ve run a marathon. I try to draw in a deep breath and notice my nostrils flare.
“How?” I ask, my brain only able to ask one word at a time. A second after I speak, I answer my own question. Of course, I know how. I mean, sex. Images run through my mind of her having sex. With a guy. Which produced a baby. I shake my head, realizing the ridiculousness of asking.
“When?” I question next. Her mouth opens and shuts, rolling her lips inward a second. It’s seductive and sweet, and I still want to kiss those pink lips although something surges through me. Anger. Defeat.
“Who?” As the question rolls off my lips, I sense the answer. My heart plummets to my feet like the Tower of Terror ride. I’m going to be sick. “Who?” I repeat, my voice sharper, and she flinches. Her hands fold before her similar to the manner in which she twisted them the night before, but I can’t take my eyes from her face. She doesn’t speak, and suddenly, I have my answer.
“It was him, wasn’t it? It’s his.” My voice grows colder, the question freezing my tongue and numbing my lips.
Dear God, no.
Son of a bitch. That selfish bastard.
Did he know? Had he cared? Did he love her? Did she love him?
I can’t process this. My hands come up in surrender as I take a step back. I can’t feel my legs, so they make the motion on their own.
“Gage, I’m—”
“I’m out of here.” I can’t hear what she has to say next. My brain still reels from what she’s said.
Pregnant. Cash.
She didn’t say his name, but I can read between the lines. I’m so stupid, I think as I step around her, giving her a wide berth so as not to accidentally touch her. I take large strides to walk away, passing a waitress and grabbing a drink off her tray.
“Hey,” she yells at me as I keep walking, guzzling the sticky sweet alcohol. It won’t be enough. I need something that burns—burns my throat, my esophagus, my heart.
Oh wait, Ivy Carrigan already took care of the last one.
+ + +
I’m grateful the bar doesn’t have a no-shirt, no-shoe policy since I left everything poolside. The casual lobby bar doesn’t mind the midday wanderer looking for a cool refreshment, and I’m dying of thirst.
“Jack Daniels, straight up, three fingers.” The bartender gives me a quizzical look and then pours. He sets the crystal glass before me, and I point at the bottle. “You might want to just leave me the whole thing. I’ll put it on a tab.”
I guzzle what I consider will be round one, feeling the burn ignite my throat. I may never sing again because my inspiration died outside with her words.
I’m pregnant.
I take another drink, swallowing down my pride as I foolishly enjoyed those words for thirty seconds before my brain kicked in. It couldn’t be mine. Then I thought of Cash. I want to chuck my glass at the wall of bottles behind the bar, then feel every shard of glass as they explode, and relish the cut. It might hurt less than the pain in my chest. I use the heel of my palm to rub at my left pec. I’m having a heart attack, but then I decide it might be heartburn from swallowing the whiskey so quickly.
I don’t know how long I sit there, nursing the rest of my glass while I aimlessly stare at the television above the bartender. A presence next to me doesn’t even turn my head until a Southern drawl stings my ears.
“Mind telling me what the fuck happened out there with my niece?”
I don’t acknowledge him. On the rare occasions I’ve seen Ivy over the past eighteen months, I’ve noticed she and her uncle are very close. He’s a father figure, I surmise. Her dad killed himself when she was a child. How ironic the father of her child did the same thing. The pain in my chest grows, burning outward to include my lungs. I can’t breathe when I consider what she’s been through.
“Did you know?” I won’t be spilling any secrets, but I’m under the assumption Tommy knows this news.
“I just found out.” He sighs and motions at the bartender toward my glass, signaling for two. “Why do you care?”
I don’t. I shouldn’t. I won’t.
“I’m not spelling this out for you, old man, but no need to worry now. My little crush on your niece has been squashed, obliterated.” I knock my knuckles together and then spread my fingers, making exploding hand motions to emphasize my feelings.
“Huh.” He snorts. “Short-lived romance.”
I’d like to punch him instead of breaking bottles. The fist to flesh might feel good. But I can’t take out my frustration on the guy. I need him too much. I have a plan.
“I’m gonna get shitfaced and find a girl to fuck.” I’m already slurring from my lack of lunch. I was hoping to find Ivy and ask her to join me. Good-bye to that plan.
Tommy clutches my shoulder, pinching the area hard with his beefy hand, and spins me to face him. My head bobbles. “Don’t be a dick.”
“How am I a dick? At least I think with my head.” Cash was always the impulsive one,
letting his dick lead him around, screwing everything. Then again, what does it say about me and my time with Ivy? What it says is it was the one and only time something like that happened.
“Then use it now. Don’t do something you’ll regret,” Tommy warns me, still shaking me by the shoulder.
“Regret.” I laugh bitterly.
My only regret is I didn’t see you again. I’m a fucking fool. Why would I tell her such a thing?
Because you like her. You’re attracted to her. She’s so sad, and you want to make her smile.
Too bad. Too late.
Petty and Jared saunter into the bar. Petty takes the seat next to me while Jared squeezes himself to stand between Petty and me.
“Everything all right?” Jared asks, his studious eyes questioning me. Sometimes I feel bad he dropped out of college to be in the band. He would have made a great professor or lawyer. He wears the glasses like one. I wave him off.
“Pissed off that little firecracker.” Petty snorts, and Tommy reaches all the way around Jared and me to smack Petty in the back of the head.
“Ow,” Petty huffs, rubbing the back of his skull. After what he smoked when we finished parasailing, he isn’t feeling anything, so I don’t know why he’s exaggerating a little head tap.
“Don’t be disrespecting my niece,” Tommy demands, all papa bear.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Petty says, lowering his eyes. “She looked pretty upset. Maybe you shouldn’t have touched her?” He shifts his eyes to me and away.
“I didn’t hurt her, did I?” I turn to Tommy, forcing my eyes wide while they already feel swollen and heavy.
Tommy shakes his head, and Jared speaks next. “She seemed pretty shaken up, but she was more worried about you. She asked us to come find you and make sure you were okay.” Jared holds up my glasses, my shirt, and my flip-flops.
“She did?” My voice cracks like a prepubescent teen.
“I think she likes you,” Jared teases, adding a wink for full measure.
“You have that so wrong,” I mutter, shaking my head and downing the rest of my second glass.