by Garza, Amber
“So was it all Ivy’s fault?” Cam asks.
“That night Ivy showed up at my house and said that you two had had a fight. We went for a ride on my bike, and when she got off her shirt got caught and I saw all these bruises on her back. I jumped to the conclusion that it was you. She didn’t say it was, but she didn’t deny it either.”
“Bitch,” Cam mumbles under his breath. “I never laid a hand on her.”
I tense, and Cole places a hand over my arm as a warning. I want to lash out at him for calling Ivy that, but I force myself to stay calm. “I know you didn’t, Cam. At least I know that now.”
“Don’t you think you should’ve found out for sure before you showed up and beat the shit out of me?” Cam’s voice rises, and he balls his hands into fists. I hear his Mom’s footsteps as she watches from the doorway.
My shoulders stiffen. This is not going the way I had hoped. Maybe what I did was unforgiveable for Cam. Perhaps it’s selfish for me to even want forgiveness. “Yes, I should’ve. But you know me, I’ve always been impulsive.”
“So that’s what you came all this way to say? That you did this to protect Ivy and that you’re excuse is that you’re impulsive.” Cam stands. “Well, thanks for that. I feel all better now. You can go.”
I sigh. “No, I’m done making excuses for it, Cam. I take full responsibility for what happened. I was just hoping if I explained then maybe you could forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” Cam sits back down. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t remember what you did to me. Not that I was totally surprised. Everyone knew that Ivy had you wrapped around her little finger. I almost didn’t go out with her because of it. In fact, I wouldn’t have except for some of the other guys said she was easy.” Cam lets out a huff. “Boy, were they wrong. She wouldn’t put out at all, no matter how hard I tried.”
“How dare you say that about her?” I hop up, my blood boiling.
“Whoa.” Cole grabs my arm, yanking me down.
“I see you still have it bad for her.” Cam smiles smugly. “Well, I guess it’s good. You two deserve each other.”
I run a hand over my head, annoyed. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you about Ivy. I know you’re mad at her for what happened.”
“Then why did you come here, Asher?” Cam asks. “Why now? Why after a year?”
I glance over at Cole, and he nods, encouraging me.
“I’ve felt bad about it since it happened,” I say truthfully. “But I was too ashamed to face you. I just felt like it was time to make things right.”
“I don’t think you have the power to make things right, Asher. You changed my entire life that night.”
I press my lips together. “I know. And if I could take it back, I would.”
“Would you?” Cam raises his brows. “I have a feeling you’d still do anything for Ivy Johnson.”
I slump, defeated. “I really am sorry, Cam.”
He nods. “I wish I could say that I forgive you, but I’m just not sure if I’m ready to.”
“Fair enough.” I stand. It’s clear that I won’t get anything else out of him today. I step toward Cam, and he stands too. When I hold out my hand, he reluctantly takes it in his. “See ya.”
“Yep.” He releases my hand and gives me a funny look. “You know, for what it’s worth, I get why you did it.”
I step back, shocked by his admission. “You do?”
“I have a girlfriend. I think I’m in love for the first time in my life. If anyone ever hurt her, I’d want to kill them.”
I nod, grateful for his admission.
“But the difference between you and me is that I’d make sure I had the right guy. And the difference between my girl and Ivy is that she’d never lie to me the way Ivy did to you.”
27
Ivy
I stare at my phone, my heart sinking when I realize I still haven’t gotten any phone calls or texts from Asher. Where is he? I’ve texted him a dozen times in the last day, and he hasn’t responded to any of them. I grab my purse, tear out of my apartment, and race down the stairs. I know I screwed up again, but I can’t lose Asher now. Not after everything we’ve been through. Not after everything he knows. Pulling my keys out of my purse I unlock my car and jump inside. As I drive to Asher’s, I silently pray that his mom won’t be home. I know she hates me after the night that Asher beat up Cam. She blames me for the fact that her precious baby went to jail. She was definitely the head of the lynching mob back then.
When I pull in front of Asher’s house I spot his motorcycle out front. I hope this means that he’s home. I stare at it with longing as I pass. What I wouldn’t give for a little ride on it right now. It would feel so good to have the wind in my face, the open road in front of me and my arms wrapped around Asher’s waist. I can practically smell his leather jacket and feel his muscles tensing under my fingertips. It’s just what I need to get my mind off of things for a few minutes. By the time I reach Asher’s door I’m almost giddy with excitement. I only hope he’s not too upset with me for my behavior the other night.
Reaching up, I hesitantly knock on the door. When it springs open, I’m disappointed to see Reece instead of Asher.
“Hey, Reece,” I say in response to his stunned expression.
“Asher’s not here,” he deadpans.
I clear my throat. “Okay, well, do you know where he is?” When he doesn’t answer right away, I plow on. “It’s just that I’ve been trying to reach him all day. Maybe something’s wrong with his phone.”
Reece leans against the doorframe with a bored look on his face. “Nothing’s wrong with his phone, trust me.”
My stomach constricts at his words.
“Look, I’m sorry, but he took off, and he doesn’t want you to know where he went.” He smiles smugly. “He gave me specific instructions not to tell you.”
I reel back from the strength of his words, feeling like I’ve been smacked. “Oh. Okay. Well…um… thanks anyway.” My knees soften as I turn around, and I struggle to stay upright. The weight of what I’ve done bears down on me. Asher left and he doesn’t want me to find him. I know I was angry the other night, but I didn’t realize how much damage I caused by running away from him again. As I trudge back toward my car, I think about how I’ve pushed him away for a year; how I even kept him at an arm’s distance when he returned. I don’t know why I kept expecting him to wait around for me. I took him for granted, and now he’s gone.
“Hey,” Reece’s voice stops me.
I slowly turn back around, and narrow my eyes.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’ll hear from Asher soon.” He flashes a weary smile before closing the door.
His words are difficult to decipher, but still they make me feel uneasy. Is he saying that eventually Asher will call and break it off? Or that Asher will call because he still wants to be with me? Reece and I have never really gotten along. He and Asher don’t get along that well either, so it’s never bothered me before. But now I have to wonder how much pleasure he’s getting out of making me squirm. I race back to my car, a shiver running through me despite the warmth in the air.
I rush inside the hospital, my heart in my throat. When I woke up this morning I got a phone call from the hospital stating that Grandpa had taken a turn for the worse. I had given the doctor my number since Mom isn’t speaking to me right now. I’m not sure what they mean by ‘he took a turn for the worse.’ I didn’t get to talk to anyone. They called while I was in the shower, so I only got a voice message. I didn’t bother calling anyone back. Instead, I just raced to the hospital as fast as I could.
As I run down the hallways and hop into the elevator, I think about how much I wish Asher were with me. I haven’t heard from him in two days, and I have no idea where he is. Yesterday, after stopping by his house, I worked the rest of the day so it kept my mind off of him. But today I feel completely alone and vulnerable without his strength and protection.
&nbs
p; The elevator doors slowly slide open, and I step out into the hallway. I push past nurses and elderly couples walking slowly, and round the corner. Mom stands directly in front of Grandpa’s door with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shake, and I freeze. I’ve only seen my mom cry one other time, and it was when my dad died. My stomach plummets as I fear the worst. I walk forward slowly as if I’m wading through a puddle of mud. My legs don’t want to move, but I force them. When I reach her, she glances up at me through her splayed fingers.
“Is he—?” I can’t say the words.
Mom shakes her head, knowing what I mean. “No, but you should say your goodbyes.”
It’s the most gentle I’ve ever heard her speak to me, and my heart lurches. There’s no way this can be the end for Grandpa. He said himself he didn’t have a heart attack. Then I remember who I’m talking to. Mom isn’t known for being honest with me. I skirt around her and make my way into the room.
The door closes softly behind me, and the only sound is ragged breathing and the beeping of machines. I walk further in and brush past the curtain in front of Grandpa’s bed. The room is dimly lit. Grandpa lies in the bed, a thin sheet up to his chin. His eyes are closed, and relief washes over me at the steady rise and fall of his chest. But as I step closer, I see the dark circles under his eyes and notice how labored his breathing is. He doesn’t look as good as before.
The chair I sat in the other night is still pressed against his bed, so I push it back. It squeaks on the floor, and Grandpa stirs. I sink down onto the chair and place my hand over Grandpa’s gnarled one. His fingers flutter beneath my touch, and his eyelids slowly open. He rolls his head to the side and that’s when I notice how red his eyes are; how they are hooded slits on his face. He looks so tired, and his skin is a gray pallor.
“Hey,” I whisper, pasting on a smile. It takes so much effort to appear brave, and I feel like my face might crack into a million pieces. When I was a girl my mom used to have a hutch with a porcelain doll inside. It had been hers since she was a small child. I remember it had hairline cracks like spidery veins covering its face and hands. That’s how I imagine I look at this moment as I force my lips to curl upward.
“Hi pretty lady.”
I cringe at how raspy his voice sounds. “So, what do you say I bust you outta here?” I joke with him.
Only he barely smiles in response. A choppy breath escapes out of his mouth, and his eyelids droop a bit. It makes my insides knot, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.
“I don’t think that’s going to happen this time,” he finally says quietly.
“Ah, come on. You can’t give up that easily.” I scold myself for how much my voice quivers.
“I’m not a quitter. I just know when it’s time to let go.”
My eyes warm as moisture fills them. I glance away from Grandpa, not wanting him to see my tears.
“Hey, hey, none of that,” he scolds me.
I swallow back the emotion in my throat, blink away the tears and turn to face him. “It’s not time to let go yet,” I say. “It’s time to be strong.”
“Can you promise me something?” He asks earnestly.
Wordlessly, I nod. I fear if I open my mouth I will start sobbing.
“Always remember…” he pauses, taking a breath. “how special you are.”
“I will, because you’ll be here to tell me,” I say.
“Ivy, promise me.”
My bottom lip trembles, and I bite down on it to keep it steady. “Okay, I promise.”
“I’m glad that you have that nice boy to look after you,” he says, rolling his head back toward the ceiling and staring up at it.
I nod, not having the heart to tell him that we had a big fight and he took off.
“Things will work out between you and your mom.” He is still staring at the ceiling, but his eyelids keep closing.
“Yes, they will,” I assure him, because I don’t know what else to say at this moment. It seems like reassuring him is the right thing to do.
“I’m not scared, pretty lady.”
“I am,” I say honestly, as tears spring to my eyes.
“Heaven isn’t a scary place. Your grandma and my daughter are there waiting for me. And I’ve lived a full life.”
“But you have people here too, Grandpa.” I need to remind me that he has something to fight for; that I need him here.
“I love you, Ivy.” His head rolls to the side again, and he locks eyes with mine.
I can see in them that he’s letting go; that he’s leaving me. He already looks like he’s a million miles away. So I say the only thing I can. “I love you too, Grandpa. So much.”
He smiles and lies back. His gaze returns to the ceiling, and I wonder what he’s looking at up there. I continue to hold his hand as he falls back asleep. Once I’m sure that he’s deep in his slumber, I allow the tears to fall. I plead with God not to take him so soon. I pray that Grandpa will fight to stay with me. I’m not ready to lose him yet.
A gurgling sound startles me, and a machine goes off near my head. A nurse rushes in, shouting something over her shoulder. Another nurse follows her. I push my chair back and stand out of the way. My heart hammers in my chest and my palms clam up.
“What’s happening?” I shout over the noise and commotion.
“Give us a minute, please?” A nurse speaks gently to me.
Numb, I stagger out of the room. Without speaking to Mom at all, I find an empty chair and lower myself into it. My elbows rub against the hard armrests. I feel like I’m all gangly, like I don’t fit in the chair. Everything seems so surreal all of the sudden. As I wait for news, I think back to how just a week ago I was helping Grandpa move his stuff into Mom’s place. My biggest worry was having to see Mom while I visited him. It seems unfathomable that he could’ve gone downhill so fast. It makes me wonder how much he really shared about his condition. He’d always tried so hard to protect me from things. Maybe this was another one of those times. Only I wish I had known. I don’t feel like I had enough time to process everything.
I’m not sure how much time passes as I sit in a daze before the doctor comes out to look for Mom and I. The minute his eyes land on me, I know what he’s going to say. I want to run away before he can say it, but I know that’s childish. I know that won’t change anything. So I allow him to say the words I never wanted to hear.
They seem to be coming from some faraway place, like he’s speaking in a tunnel. I nod without making eye contact with Mom. I know this is hard for her, but I don’t have it in me to comfort her. Not now. Maybe I never will, but I hope one day things will work out with us, if for no other reason than the fact that I promised Grandpa.
In shock, I leave the hospital, knowing that a piece of my heart is still inside lying beside my Grandpa’s body.
I stagger into the apartment, my face aching. Brushing back a few stray tears, I drop my purse on the kitchen table. Billie’s at work, and the silence is deafening. The pain in my heart is so profound I wonder if I will ever recover. Memories of my grandpa fly through my mind, and I swallow back the emotion that swells inside of me. I walk into the kitchen and pull a bottle of water out of the fridge. After taking a long pull and feeling the cool liquid slide down my throat, I trudge to my room. My eyes burn, and my eyelids sag. I push open the door and step inside. Gasping, I drop my water bottle in surprise. Then I clutch my chest, feeling my heartbeat thumping against my fingertips.
“Asher,” I breathe.
He smiles from where he sits perched on the edge of my bed. When he stands, he opens his arms. “Billie told me about your grandpa.”
I step right into his arms and allow him to hold me. As tears pour down my cheeks, I nestle into his shirt and inhale his familiar scent. His arms tighten around me, cocooning me in safety.
28
Asher
The look of pain on Ivy’s face cuts to my heart. For a second I worry that springing myself on her so soon after losing her
grandpa might not be a good idea. But then her face lights up, and it’s all the invitation I need. I stand up and open my arms. When she gladly steps into them and cuddles into my chest, I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly. She cries softly into my shirt, her tears soaking the thin fabric. Her shoulders shake, and I squeeze her to me to keep her steady.
She grips the fabric of my collar with her hands, and her fingers dance on the skin of my neck. Leaning down, I kiss her on the forehead. Pulling back, she searches my eyes. I kiss her skin again, wishing I could erase her sadness with my mouth.
“What will I do without him, Asher? He was the only family I had left.”
“That’s not true.” I stroke her hair, gently prying the wet strands off her face.
She lets out a bitter laugh, and her voice is harsh from crying. “Well, I wasn’t counting Mom.”
“I’m not either. I was talking about me,” I tell her. “I’m your family now. I’ll always be here for you.”
Her eyes darken, and she pulls away from me. “Asher, I’m so sorry about how I acted the other night.” Ivy runs her fingers through her tangled hair.
“It’s okay. I understand why you were so upset.”
She walks away from me, retrieving the bottle of water she dropped when she entered the room. After picking it up, she deposits it on her dresser and leans her back against it. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Billie told me the whole story. I know you were just trying to help me.” She blows out a breath. “God, why do you even put up with me? I’m a mess.”
“No, you’re not, Ives. You’ve just been through a lot and you haven’t had anyone to help you.” I take a few steps forward and place my hands on the dresser on either side of her body. “That’s why I’m here. To be that person who helps you get through this.”
She lowers her gaze. “But you’ve always been so good to me, Asher, and I just cause you so much trouble.”
“Hey.” I tuck my finger under her chin and lift her head to face me. “We’ve both made mistakes. But I want to be with you, Ives. I want it more than anything else in this world.”