Hold Me Tight

by Faith Sullivan

  “Every Saturday before he went to pick her up, he’d make a payment on the ring. He didn’t want her to pity him for being poor. He was determined to give her the very best he could.” I swallow, getting choked up even though I’ve heard this story a million times. With Ivy in bed next to me, it’s taking on a whole new meaning.

  “What did she say when she finally saw the ring?” Ivy asks as she moves her hand back and forth, allowing the rays of the weak November sunlight to dance across the diamond.

  “See, that’s the thing. She didn’t seem surprised at all when he slipped it on her finger,” I remark, realizing the full impact of the story.

  “How come?” Ivy inquires, turning to look at me.

  “She knew when she fell in love with him that their life together would never be easy. She was the daughter of a farmer. She knew firsthand what that kind of life was like. She saw how it had worn down her parents and she didn’t want that type of life for herself.” I cradle Ivy’s face in my palm, running my thumb up and down her cheek as we look into each other’s eyes.

  “But…?” Ivy questions, leaning into my hand.

  “She thought by stalling that somehow she’d fall out of love with my grandpa. He’d lose interest in trying to woo her and he’d settle for someone who would cook and clean for him so he could focus on making his farm a success. Farmers didn’t have time for romance, and that’s what she so desperately wanted.” I can’t stop the tinge of sadness from entering my voice because it wasn’t so long ago that I thought much the same thing.

  “But he proved her wrong,” Ivy says, grinning from ear to ear.

  “She put him to the test and he passed with flying colors.” I gaze deeply into her eyes, knowing how lucky I am to have found her, how we just seem to understand each other. “One time when he took her to the local soda fountain, his jacket slipped off his stool when he went to order their ice cream floats. When she went to pick it up, the payment book from the jeweler fell out of the pocket. She only glanced at it hurriedly before putting it back, but it didn’t take much for her to put two and two together.”

  “Is that why she wasn’t surprised? Because she knew it was coming?” Ivy creases her brow, and I can tell she expected more from my grandma.

  “No, it made her feel like she didn’t deserve him,” I admit, lowering my hand onto her shoulder before running it down her back. “She was ashamed of herself for making him think that she had to have a diamond ring on her finger before she’d marry him. When all along he’d been teaching her about the things in life that truly matter. He was always positive. He was always glad to see her. He always celebrated every moment they spent together. Those hundred dates were the greatest gift he could’ve given her. They were more precious than any diamond ring.”

  “But he must’ve been disappointed when she didn’t jump up and down when he gave it to her,” Ivy ponders, looking at me for an explanation.

  “Even worse. She gave it back,” I remark, a smile tugging at my lips.

  “She…what?” Ivy asks as she smacks me lightly on the shoulder.

  “She handed it back to him.” I can’t contain my laughter at the shocked expression on Ivy’s face. “She told him that she’d be delighted to marry the finest man she ever met, but she wasn’t going to stand on ceremony. She wanted him to return the ring and get his money back so they could start their life together on the right foot. She said she wouldn’t care if she had to wear a piece of twine tied around her finger if that’s what it would take for her to one day be as selfless and giving as he was.”

  “But obviously he didn’t listen to her,” Ivy says, spreading her hand against my chest as we both look down at the ring.

  “No, he didn’t,” I smile as she moves her hand until she can feel my heartbeat. “He always liked to spoil her any way he could.”

  For a minute, her eyes take on a faraway look, like she’s intensely thinking about something. I start to get worried, but then she scoops up my hand and places it back on her stomach, moving it around until she finds the spot she’s looking for.

  “Do you feel that?” she whispers excitedly.

  I don’t want to deflate her hope and say, “No,” but I don’t feel a darn thing. But then all of a sudden I feel a thud against my open palm and my eyes dart quickly to hers.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I ask, hardly able to believe what I’m feeling.

  She nods at me, breathless. “It’s the baby kicking.”

  We don’t say anything. We just stare lovingly into each other’s eyes, her hand on my heart, my hand on our baby kicking inside of her.

  “Talk about perfect timing,” I muse.

  “He or she wants to be a part of this too,” Ivy says, the warmth in her eyes conveying so much.

  “I’m so glad you came back,” I whisper, not trusting my voice.

  “Me too,” she concurs, snuggling up next to me.

  “I can’t wait for our baby to arrive,” I say to her, meaning every word.

  “Eric, what were your grandparents’ names?” she asks, seeming to ignore what I just said.

  “Natalie and Wallace Marshall,” I relate, wanting to get back to talking about our baby.

  “Perfect,” she sighs contentedly.

  “For what?” I ask, utterly confused.

  “For our baby’s name of course,” she remarks, tapping me lightly on the chest. “If it’s a girl, we’ll call her Natalie, and if it’s a boy, Wally.”

  “Then I really hope it’s a girl,” I admit, guiding my hand over her smooth tummy.

  “Stop it,” she cries, pretending to swat my hand away. “Wally Young is a fine name. Isn’t that right, little one?”

  And as if on cue, the baby kicks again.

  “It seems like I’m already outnumbered in this family,” I groan in mock protest.

  “You got that right,” Ivy agrees as I place my ear against her baby bump, fascinated by the life growing inside of her.

  “We’re going to make it,” I say with fierce determination as I look up at her. “All of us are going to make it.”

  She nods at me in encouragement, biting her lip to keep her tears at bay. She runs her fingers through my hair like she’s trying to block out the danger that lies ahead. The uncertainty. The fear. The risk.

  Ivy might not be here with me by the time spring rolls around. We might never get married. Our baby might never be born. But we can’t think about that now. We have to stay focused on the positive, just like my grandpa would. He wouldn’t let this drag him down. Instead, he’d cherish every moment with the woman he loved.

  And I intend to do the same.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ivy

  It’s nearly a week later and I’m still basking in the post-engagement buzz.

  I push my shopping cart down the Valu-Mart aisle, humming along to the love song playing above my head. It’s the day before Thanksgiving and I think that’s the only reason Eric let me run to the store without him. Things are still pretty tense between him and his dad, so we’re going to prepare our own meal tomorrow instead of going over to his parents’ house like we planned. Besides, Eric is super busy getting ready for Friday, the official kickoff of the Christmas tree season at Riverside Gardens. For the next two days, Eric and Ben will be hauling trees from the field and setting them up in the outdoor display area. But despite everything that’s going on, Eric made sure that I didn’t come here unattended. In need of Ben’s muscle, he convinced Will to be my chauffeur instead.

  I have to say that it’s been interesting having Will in the cabin along with us, especially since we all have to share one bathroom. Sometimes I think my bladder is going to burst by the time Will gets done styling his hair. Living together in such tight quarters is trying everyone’s patience. So when Will asked to take a cigarette break while I shopped, I leapt at the opportunity, promising not to place the twenty-pound turkey in the cart until he came back.

  I grip the handlebar and smile when my
ring catches the light. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of looking at it. Eric said that, while he doesn’t plan on taking me on a hundred dates before we say, “I do,” he does intend on following in his grandfather’s footsteps. He already has something up his sleeve for a Saturday night in the near future, but he won’t even give me a hint as to what he has in store, and the anticipation is killing me.

  A few people I recognize from around town nod at me as I stroll by. The general attitude toward me seems to have changed since word got out about my condition. Everyone’s been a whole lot friendlier. I detect a definite thaw in the amount of hostility aimed in my direction. It appears they’ve forgiven me for stealing Eric out from under Lauren’s nose. Now I’m the victim. And who can resist rooting for the underdog? They probably don’t expect me to survive, so maybe they feel they might as well be nice to me now.

  I chuckle to myself over my morbid sense of humor, causing an elderly woman nearby to glance at me oddly. To put her at ease, I remove one of the plastic produce bags from the dispenser and hand it to her. She thanks me more out of a sense of obligation than gratitude before scurrying away to the turnip bin. Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever feel at home in this town. I’m not one of them. I’ll always be on the outside looking in.

  I examine the stalks of celery in the refrigerated case, my mind drifting. Maybe my child will have a better chance of fitting in among these people. Wally—or Natalie—is going to be born here. Eric’s a businessman in the community. He’s lived here all his life, as have his parents and his grandparents before them. This is where his roots are. Any child of his will have to belong. They’ll have to. I don’t want my child to be made to feel the way I have. It would break my heart.

  I start to push the cart around the corner when my blood runs cold.

  “Well, if it isn’t our resident damsel in distress, out and about in the middle of the day. I know I must be seeing things…because I could’ve sworn she agreed to remain chained behind a laptop at a certain someone’s farmhouse for the remainder of her pregnancy.”

  I don’t move a muscle. The sound of Lauren’s voice instantly paralyzes me like it has some hypnotic power over my body. The second I hear it, I lose every shred of self-confidence and start to quake with fear.

  I never used to be afraid of her, but she nearly cost me the life of my unborn child—not once, but twice. My protective instinct kicks in, knowing what she’s capable of. She’d like nothing more than to finish what she started. But I won’t let that happen. I can’t.

  Gathering my courage, I pretend like I didn’t hear her and keep going. Maybe if I just ignore her, she’ll take the hint, not wanting to make a scene in public. L.A. was different. No one knew her there. But causing me to cramp up in her hometown definitely won’t go over well.

  Her heels click rapidly as she hurries to catch up to me. “You know we had a deal, right?” she threatens, a hair above a whisper, angling herself in front of my cart so I can’t move.

  She has me cornered near the stationery. No one’s going to save me here. They’re all too busy hunting down the last can of cranberry sauce or deciding between pumpkin and apple pie. She has me right where she wants me—again.

  “And you know what I said would happen if you broke this deal?” she taunts me, gripping the end of the cart with her obnoxiously red nails.

  “Forget it, Lauren. I’m not doing the screenplay. You can shove it.” I push forward as hard as I can as we wrangle for control of the cart.

  But she’s too strong and I can hardly get the wheels to budge. I haven’t seen her face to face since that terrible morning in front of the cabin, and she doesn’t seem quite right. There’s something off in her eyes, like some part of her sanity has already slipped away. Of course, she still looks flawless on the outside with her lambskin trench coat and honey-colored highlights, but it’s becoming apparent that she’s starting to fall apart on the inside. And that’s what frightens me more.

  “Do you really want to test me?” she bristles as I see how bloodshot her eyes are the closer she gets.

  “Well, you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain either,” I retort. “You didn’t tell Eric about my appointment. So as far as I’m concerned, you’re the one to blame for ending our little arrangement.”

  “Nice try,” she smirks. “But you’re not the one making the rules here. I am.”

  “What you’re doing, Lauren, is despicable, and I won’t be a part of it. Blackmailing Tim. Twisting his pain for your own benefit. It’s sick.” I think about the anguish I saw on Tim’s face and it only strengthens my resolve.

  “So you’re choosing Tim over Eric, huh? Typical… Just like Cassidy.” Her words strike me like a blow across the face, causing me to reel back. “I’ll just have to tell my father to have the bank start calling in Eric’s loan if you’re not going to cooperate. Foreclosure by Christmas sounds like a great way to ring in the holidays.”

  “How dare you make it seem like I’m choosing one over the other when all along you were determined to ruin them both,” I declare, not afraid of calling her bluff. “You were never going to let either one of them walk away no matter what I did.”

  “Lest you forget, you signed a contract to complete the screenplay. If you don’t, I’ll have no qualms dragging you into court, pregnant or not.” She glares at me icily.

  “I don’t understand why this screenplay is so important to you anyway,” I lash back, getting everything off my chest. “So what if Tim was the father of Cassidy’s baby? Who cares?”

  Her eyes take on a dangerous glint as she lets go of the cart and leans into me. “Because I’m going to tell the world what really happened.”

  “By making Tim the scapegoat? What good is that going to do now?” I meet her head-on as we go toe-to-toe. “He loved her, Lauren. Really and truly loved her. Anyone who talks to him for five minutes can see that. The two of them didn’t act out of malice. They’d known each other for a long time, and it just happened. It wasn’t planned. They weren’t out to hurt Eric like you led me to believe.”

  “You really don’t have a clue, do you?” she laughs, and I instinctively take a step back. “Tim might have told you some things, but he didn’t tell you all of it. Why would he? I’m sure he was leading you on because he was trying to get in your pants the whole time. It’s his style. And considering the black eye he’s sporting, it appears Eric agrees.”

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Will drawls lazily, coming up behind me.

  Lauren and I were so caught up in our showdown that neither of us noticed him walking toward us until now. I’m relieved to have some backup, but having him here isn’t going to get Lauren to reveal what she was alluding to. There’s more to all this than she’s letting on, something deeply personal that she’s trying to hide. When she’s angry, she’s not as careful with her words. All right, Tim never came out and admitted he was the father, but who else could it be?

  “Where’s your little boy toy?” Lauren mocks Will. “Out sucking more high school dick?”

  Will strides forward angrily before stepping in between us. “You are one seriously perverted family if that’s what you talk about around the dinner table.”

  He’s obviously referring to Ryan, so I just keep my mouth shut. Whatever it is, it involves Ben. And I don’t like it.

  “Oh, I know everything that goes on in this town. Everything,” Lauren emphasizes, getting right in Will’s face. “But it’s my version of events that filters down to the masses.”

  “It must be nice to have the power to spin the truth into lies,” Will fires back. “But one of these days, the truth is going to catch up to you. It always does.”

  “I don’t think your boyfriend would share that sentiment,” Lauren chuckles. “I don’t think he’d be so fond of the truth getting out.”

  “So what’s your secret, Lauren?” Will responds, turning the tables. “According to you, everyone has something to hide. What are you so desperate to cove
r up that you’d go to such extraordinary lengths to distract everyone from what’s really going on?”

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Carter,” she seethes. He must have hit a nerve. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

  Will doesn’t retreat as she jabs a finger into his chest. He stands his ground, taking her on. I don’t know who this new Will is, but I like him. It’s as if he’s turned over a new leaf, ready to fight for the people he cares about. Brave enough to face the wrath of Lauren Price.

  What’s even more striking is that Will was out of all this. She wasn’t targeting him anymore. He could’ve gone back to L.A. and made a fresh start. Sure, she took the rights to his screenplay, but it could’ve been a lot worse. She didn’t reveal his sexuality to the world. He didn’t have a bull’s-eye taped to his back. She was willing to let him slip away relatively unharmed—but not now. From this moment on, all of her firepower is going to be aimed directly at him.

  And I know without a doubt that he’s doing it for love. There’s no other explanation for why he’s throwing himself in harm’s way. He cares about Ben. He doesn’t want to see his future destroyed. He’s willing to take the bullet and deflect the heat onto him. And if I’m being completely honest, he’s doing it for me as well. I have seen how being there on the two occasions I nearly miscarried has changed him. He’s not the same Will he was before.

  “Can I help you folks with anything?” the store manager asks, interrupting us as he shoves a stray greeting card into one of the slots.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Lauren responds, clearly still simmering beneath the surface. “This young man was kind enough to steer me in the right direction. I know exactly where I need to go from here.”

  “All righty then,” the manager says, only partially listening as he’s besieged by a woman insisting that she shouldn’t have to buy chicken gravy just because they’re out of turkey gravy.