I try to talk, but I can’t. Seeing my distress, Eric pushes my hair away from my face, letting me know that I don’t have to say anything. Shakily, I choke back the sobs that are threatening to burst forth.
“You had an operation,” he begins, tracing his thumb gently across my cheekbone. “What happened back at the cabin…was too much excitement for the baby. It started moving around a lot and nearly tore through the placenta. You lost a lot of blood…but it didn’t detach all the way. Dr. P. was able to try something in order to fix it.”
My eyes widen in response as Eric takes a shuddering breath.
“Dr. P. had never done anything like it before, but he had been reading up on all of your available options and consulting with doctors who have performed similar procedures. He was able to find a surgeon in the U.K. who used a fiber-optic laser and a tiny camera to operate on twins who were sharing the same placenta. All this time, Dr. P. has been going out of his way, taking all of the necessary precautions in case something like this happened to you…and we didn’t even know. He wanted to be prepared, just in case he needed to be,” Eric reveals, his eyes searching mine so tenderly. “And he was.”
I tilt my chin down, overwhelmed by the lengths Dr. P. went to in order to save our baby’s life. Words will never be able to express the gratitude I feel in my heart. He did this for us. Our child would not be here if it weren’t for him.
“In order to stabilize the baby, they put you under the minute you arrived in the hospital. They couldn’t risk any further movement. After Dr. P. conducted the ultrasound and saw what was going on, he decided on taking an aggressive approach. He wasn’t about to give up.” Eric smiles at me, squeezing my hand. “But since what he planned to do was deemed a clinical trial or a test study or whatever you want to call it, the hospital needed your consent, and being that you were already under anesthesia, that wasn’t possible. Dr. P. thought it was too dangerous to wake you up only to put you under again. There just wasn’t time.”
I raise an eyebrow at him and try to open my mouth to speak.
“Shhh,” Eric urges. “I’ll explain everything. I promise.”
He bends his head with a sigh before meeting my eyes again. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what he’s about to say. I brace myself, preparing for the worst.
“I thought of bringing in a justice of the peace to marry us on the spot,” he laughs weakly. “But seeing as you were unconscious, no one was going to go along with me. They needed the consent of a family member…so I had to track down your mother.”
I pull my hands away and look at him warily.
“Ivy, I had to,” Eric moans. “I didn’t have a choice.”
I reach for the cup of water on the adjacent tray table before Eric can get it for me, and I take a long sip from the straw. I drain the whole thing before I glance at him again. I nestle back down and clear my throat.
“Where is she?” I ask grudgingly. “Did she even stick around?”
“Yeah. She’s out there with my parents,” Eric confesses, looking over at me guiltily.
My cheeks flame in embarrassment. I never wanted him to meet my mother. I didn’t want him to see what she’s really like. How I could possibly be related to someone like her.
“My dad and I went to get her and…” He stops, seeing the stricken expression on my face.
“You saw where I lived?” I ask, feeling unnerved.
“Ivy, it doesn’t matter,” he says, trying to console me.
“It does to me,” I reply sullenly.
“If anything, I have even more respect for you now because of where you came from,” Eric proclaims, resting his hand atop my leg. “Realizing how strong you were to get yourself out of a situation like that. Ivy, that took guts. I know it couldn’t have been easy. But look at how far you’ve come. You should be so incredibly proud of yourself. I know I am.”
I sit there for several minutes and take it all in. Eric doesn’t push me. He gives me my space. He knows that I don’t want to be alone right now, but that I’m not ready to talk about it either.
After an extended pause, I hesitantly begin. “I know I should be grateful for what she did. We lost Tim. We almost lost our baby…again.” I crinkle up my face to keep from crying. “It’s all been so awful that I won’t tolerate any more threats to our safety, Eric. And that’s what my mother is—a threat. You saw her. You know she can never stay clean. And I don’t want her around us or anywhere near our baby.”
“You don’t even want to see her before she goes?” Eric prods, not letting me off the hook. “She didn’t refuse when I asked her to come with me. She dropped everything, no questions asked. And she waited all night to get a chance to talk to you. Can’t you at least tell her thank you?”
“Thank her? Thank her for what? For finally doing her job as a mother?” I yell back at him as my monitors start to spike.
“Ivy, just relax. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Eric stands, urging me to calm down. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but after all that went on with Tim, I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. That’s all. You never know how much time you’re going to have with a person. Sometimes talking it out can really help.”
A nurse hurries in, shaking her head at Eric as she checks my vitals. “Just lie back for me,” she says soothingly. “Take some deep breaths.”
“Is she awake?” asks a voice I wish I’d never have to hear again. “Can I go in and see her now?”
“Shut the door,” I order Eric through gritted teeth.
But it’s too late. My mother comes shuffling into the room.
“Um, ma’am,” the nurse says, trying to get her attention, “the patient can’t have more than one visitor at a time. One of you is going to have to leave.”
My eyes lock onto Eric’s, begging him not to do this.
“I’ll be right out here if you need me,” he responds, bending down to kiss my forehead.
“Don’t…” I whisper fervently.
“You’re going to regret it if you don’t speak with her,” Eric replies, staring down at me with compassion. “I know how much she’s hurt you, but just trust me on this.”
He backs away, lightly tapping my mother on the shoulder as he exits the room.
After the nurse leaves, we observe each other from a distance. She’s wringing her hands, unable to keep still. She’s as fidgety as ever, probably strung out from going so long without a fix. I know the signs well enough to realize that she’ll never change—because she doesn’t want to.
“What are you doing here?” I ask coldly.
“Ivy, it’s been so long,” she cries, approaching the bed.
All it took was one word from me to set her in motion. I could scold her, curse her, mock her, and she’d still act like everything’s okay. Nothing ever gets through to her. She never respects what I want. She’s all about indulging her own needs.
“Don’t touch me,” I say, recoiling from her. “It’s too late for that.”
“It’s never too late,” she replies, taking Eric’s seat beside the bed. “Especially now that I know that you’re carrying my grandchild.”
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn her, propping myself up. “Because you’re not going to be a part of its life.”
“Oh, come now, Ivy,” she murmurs, scooting closer. “You don’t mean that. You’re just upset. I intend on spoiling that grandbaby of mine like nobody’s business.”
“Spoil it?” I fire back. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“Yeah, I know times were tough when you were growing up, but things are different now,” she replies, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “You’ve got a nice, strong man to depend on—something I never had.”
“You stay away from Eric. Do you hear me?” I rage on, afraid of what she’s already said to him. “He may feel sorry for you, but I don’t.”
“Ivy, why are you being so cruel to me, huh?” she questions, acting like I’m trying to hurt her
feelings. “I’m only here to help you.”
“More like help yourself,” I retort bitterly. “Don’t think you’re going to pawn any handouts off the Youngs. They’re good people who don’t deserve to be swindled by the likes of you.”
“If they’re so good, then why were you involved in a shootout in their son’s home?” she asks, her eyes gleaming. “I may live in the projects, but no one ever got shot under my roof.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I respond, getting flustered.
“Are you in danger?” she questions bluntly.
I swallow, giving myself a minute. “I don’t know,” I reply, being more honest with her than she deserves.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” she huffs. “Not if Conrad Price’s stepdaughter was involved. Can you believe we used to live in the same neighborhood as that prick?”
“How far we’ve fallen,” I mumble, needling her.
“Ain’t that the truth, sweetheart,” she answers, her eyes following the track of the curtain surrounding the bed. “But you’re doing all right for yourself. I always knew you would. You’re made of tougher stuff than I am. I couldn’t handle the ups and downs life threw at me, but ever since you were small, you’ve faced them head-on, unafraid.”
“Maybe because I had to,” I respond, feeling tired all of a sudden.
“It’s just a shame that two young people in the prime of their lives had to die today because of him,” she rambles on, lost in thought. “He was always a good for nothing. I remember sitting on the back porch with his first wife, Joanie, listening to her tell me about all of the terrible things he did.”
I turn toward her. “Like what?”
“Oh, dearie, stuff not worth repeating,” she protests, holding up her hand, before going on. “How he cheated his clients on these insider-trading deals and clawed his way to the top. But Joanie was a smart one. She made copies of all of the papers he had in his home office when she planned on filing for divorce so he’d let her go.”
“Yeah, right. Conrad left Joanie for his mistress,” I jump in, shaking my head.
“That’s what he wanted everybody to think,” my mom says smugly. “But I know the real story. He was taking some off the top when it came to his financial dealings with his mistress’s family. He didn’t want to get caught, so he made a deal with Joanie to ensure her cooperation.”
“I wonder if she kept everything…” I ponder, mostly to myself.
“Conrad made her burn everything in front of him before he’d sign the divorce papers,” my mom admits, surprising me.
“What?” I ask, bewildered.
“I was working in the office of that auto repair shop then. Don’t you remember?” I nod. “Joanie didn’t work at the time. She depended on Conrad for everything. He was so paranoid. He started monitoring her comings and goings to the point that she couldn’t even drive her car without him knowing about it. That’s why she smuggled the documents over to me to make copies.”
“Mom, that’s insane,” I exclaim. “Do you know the risk you were taking?”
“Ivy, I had a lot of time on my hands, sitting out there in that waiting room with nothing to do,” she grumbles like my being tied up in surgery was a major inconvenience. “After hearing from the Youngs how Conrad kicked Ryan out and how he ended up in jail, I thought I’d give Joanie a call. See if she’d be willing to help. Ryan was never the same after the divorce, and I think she always blamed herself for it.”
“Can we please not talk about Ryan?” I plead, gripping my forehead.
“He always was a little peculiar, wasn’t he? There was something about that boy I never liked,” she grunts under her breath.
“Well, you could’ve fooled me because you were always falling all over him whenever he came to visit,” I reply, jogging her memory.
“It’s only because he was your friend, Ivy, and I didn’t want to upset you,” she insists, sliding her hand up and down the bedrail.
“Whatever,” I moan, not heeding her excuses. “So what did Joanie have to say?”
“She’d been trying to get Conrad on the phone all day, but he wasn’t returning any of her calls. She’s been frantic about Ryan. Conrad wouldn’t even get his secretary to tell her where they’re holding him,” she whispers like it’s a terrible tragedy. “When I told Joanie how you were connected to everything, she was floored. She promised me mother-to-mother that she’d get Conrad off your back when she spoke to him. We go way back and she remembers how I was there for her in her time of need.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever been there for anyone in their time of need,” I mutter stubbornly.
“You can’t say that now,” she declares, tossing back her shoulders. “Joanie just got back to me a little while ago and said it’s all taken care of. Conrad won’t be bothering you again.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?” I ask, pursing my lips.
“Yeah, because what Joanie didn’t know until today is that I made two sets of copies—one for her and one for me,” my mother confesses. “Honey, I have stuff on Conrad that could send him away for a long time. It’s the kind of damning evidence there’s no coming back from. It’d be an open-and-shut case. He wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.”
“Worse than a sex scandal?” I inquire, keeping my tone light even though I’m floored by her revelation.
“A sex scandal? I’d say,” she chuckles like I’m a naïve little girl. “These Wall Street types don’t care who you go to bed with, but if you steal their money, watch out. And Conrad stole a lot of it. I think that’s why he’s always been so obsessed with his image because any whiff of misconduct and it wouldn’t take much for an investigator with some moxy to dig it all up, especially if someone started leaving a paper trail.”
“So you always planned on getting even with him?” I watch my mom get up, surprised that she had the audacity to hatch such a plan. “You just needed the opportunity.”
“I needed Joanie…in the right frame of mind,” my mom corrects me. “Conrad allowing her baby to go to jail was the last straw. She was more than willing to tell him that she hid a second set of documents in a safety deposit box. This way, Conrad will never even know that I was involved.”
“Wait…where are you going?” I ask as she grips the door handle.
“Joanie contacted the rehab treatment facility over in Smithfield, and she was able to pull some strings to get me in. Or should I say she blackmailed Conrad into giving her the money to pay for my stay as a little bonus incentive for keeping her mouth shut?” my mom ponders with an impish grin. “I’m checking myself in as soon as I leave here.” She collects herself, before looking over at me. “Because I want to get sober. So that one day, I might be able to meet my grandchild.”
I blink when I feel my eyes welling up. “You do that,” I respond, not making any promises.
“It was good seeing you again, Ivy.” She gazes at me fondly, like she’s taking a mental snapshot of me to hold on to. “See? Your mom isn’t such a flake after all. I might be a terrible mother, but no one threatens my Ivy’s life and gets away with it.”
“Maybe you can turn it around as a grandmother,” I reply, wanting to give her something to cling to.
“One good turn deserves another. I helped Joanie. Joanie helped me, and I was able to help you. It feels like the tide is finally starting to turn, doesn’t it?” she asks with a smile on her face.
“I certainly hope so,” I say with all the enthusiasm I can muster, watching her go. “Because we need it to.”
But she doesn’t hear me as the door swings shut behind her. Maybe she’ll change, maybe she won’t. All I know is I’m not getting my hopes up. Not yet, anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eric
I hate being away from Ivy, but I hate even more the sight of my best friend’s coffin sitting in the ground.
The sleet drips down my ears as I stare at the gaping hole before me. My dad comes ov
er with an umbrella and stands beside me, but I brush him away. It’s too late. I’m already cold and wet—heartsick over regaining a friend only to lose him again.
“I’m glad that Ivy brought you two boys together in the end,” my dad says, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead.
We’re not good at sharing our emotions with each other. I either go off the deep end or shut myself off, and he takes everything in stride like nothing’s capable of ruffling him. It’s a frustrating mix, considering we’re both too stubborn to make the first move.
“So you forgive me now?” I ask, my voice sounding brittle and worn out as droplets of water start to bead on the cedar casket.
“There was nothing to forgive, son,” he responds, shifting toward me. “I just didn’t want another girl coming between the two of you again.”
“But you just said…?” I question him, getting mad.
“I know what I said,” he replies, affixing me with that look of his when he means business. “I saw that shiner you gave Tim, and I was conflicted. I was happy because it meant that you two were talking again, but I was disappointed that you were talking with your fists.”
“It’s how we spoke best,” I say past the ache in my heart.
“I didn’t like what Cassidy did to you boys, tying you up in knots, choosing one over the other. It wasn’t right.” He walks closer to the grave, his feet sinking into the mud. “I hope he’s at peace now. I never saw anyone pine over someone like he did for her.”
“Not even me?” I ask sharply.
“You moved on,” he responds, tilting his umbrella. “He never did. He lost her. He lost you. He lost everything. You needed to be the bigger man in this situation, but you let it drag on for years, even after she was gone.”
“And don’t you think I won’t be kicking myself for the rest of my life because of it?” I spit back angrily. “I don’t need you adding to my guilt.”
“Hear me out, son,” he says, watching me shiver. “That was before I had a chance to talk to him.”
“I didn’t know you…” I trail off.
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