Ricky toddles over and holds his hands up to Christina. I lean down and try to pick him up, but he fusses and wiggles out of my hands.
“It’s okay,” Christina says, holding him on her hip. “You remember Aunt Ivy, don’t you?”
Ricky buries his face in her neck.
She reaches out to touch my arm. “It’ll take time. Thank you for trying.”
I nod. Then I greet the rest of my family.
It’s odd being pregnant and having nobody acknowledge it. It’s the proverbial elephant in the room. It’s so different than the other times. When I was pregnant with Jonah, everyone was worried about how two teens still in high school would be able to care for a child. When I was pregnant with Dahlia, after people got over the shock that we’d planned it, everyone said what a blessing she would be in the wake of Jonah’s death. But now, everyone knows this child isn’t a blessing. Everyone is well aware of the months or years of torture we’ll have to go through if the baby is like Jonah and Dahlia.
They all know there is a chance of the baby being normal, or just a carrier. But we don’t talk about it. Because what if it’s not true? What if everyone convinces me that this baby will be okay? What if I start to get excited about the idea of raising a child who isn’t tied to doctors, hospitals, and dialysis machines? What if I get my hopes up and then—then my world comes crashing down again.
They all know it’s better this way.
My mother puts her arm around me. “I saw what you did and I’m proud of you. I know how hard it’s been for you to watch them with Ricky.”
“It has, but that doesn’t mean I should be a bad person. I was pathetic back then. I don’t want to be like that anymore, Mom. I’m tired of playing the victim. I was getting so much better. I was almost normal again, and then—”
“Shhhh,” she whispers in my ear as she pulls me in for a hug. “Nobody thinks you’re pathetic, dear. God works in mysterious ways.”
“You always say that. But do you really believe it? Do you think God has a plan for me, and that plan included two of my children dying—and now, this?”
“I do, sweet Ivy. I do.”
My dad comes over and kisses me on the head. “Happy birthday, baby.”
“Thanks, Daddy.”
Over his shoulder, I see a huge flower arrangement on the table. It’s not one of ours, I can tell. I go over and smell the daisies. “Who’s this from?”
Holly shrugs. “Don’t know. But whoever sent them went through our competition.” She wrinkles her nose in disapproval.
“Maybe it was Eli,” Alder says.
But we all know better. Eli would have used one of our shops.
I know who sent them. I’m pretty sure all of them know, too. And this room is starting to get awfully claustrophobic with two elephants in it.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Sebastian
The stadium erupts in cheers when Sawyer Mills steals a base. It’s funny that even though Sawyer plays for Kansas City now, New York still loves him.
Brett bumps his fist to mine. “Sweet!”
The next batter for the Royals strikes out, ending the inning. The Nighthawks come up and score a run, making them up by three after the bottom of the eighth, so as long as they can hold the lead, they’ll solidify the win without even having to bat again.
“We’re all meeting up at Sawyer’s place after the game if you want to come hang for a while.”
Brett shakes his head. “Thanks, but these days, a few hours away when I’m not on shift is all I can do.”
“Tough being a new dad, Lieutenant?” I ask.
“I told you not to call me that when we’re not on duty,” he says with a hint of irritation. “Call me Brett, or if you prefer, Cash.”
I pat him on the back. “I’m just messing with you.”
“To answer your question, it’s not tough. I love being a dad. And Leo is four months old now, so it’s not exactly new anymore. But I think Amanda has post-partum depression or something. She never wants to be alone with him, which pretty much means she’s never alone with me. She works all the time. Like all the time. I can’t tell you the last time we had a meal together. She’s even got the nanny living with us now. So I try to be home as much as I can. Hell, I feel like a single parent.”
“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you into coming to the game.”
“You didn’t,” he says. “I needed this. Yelling at the top of my lungs was just the ticket for getting out all this pent-up frustration.”
“So Amanda is for sure keeping her job? I know she was talking about staying home with Leo before he was born.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, she’s keeping her job. In fact, sometimes I think she likes the job better than Leo and me. And she’s been working extra hours now that she’s trying to move from assistant buyer to buyer.”
“You know, Leo is almost the same age as Caden’s twins. Maybe you could get them together for … what do they call it, play dates?”
“Do babies do play dates?” he asks.
“Hell if I know.”
Brady Taylor ends the game by striking out the last three batters and the stadium comes alive.
Brett and I walk a few blocks over to where he can catch a cab and then I head to Sawyer and Aspen’s townhouse.
When I arrive, it’s dark. They won’t be home for a while. But I have a key, so I go in and crack a beer from the twelve-pack I brought with me. I come over and check on things from time to time when they’re away. I know they’ve talked about selling it this past year, but Sawyer seems to think they come back enough to justify keeping the place. And it’s not like they can’t afford it.
I look around the living room, seeing dozens of moving boxes, wondering if they’ve finally made the decision to sell.
The front door opens and Aspen walks through, followed by her brother. Aspen sees me and runs over, flinging herself into my arms. “Bass, I’m so happy to see you.”
I squeeze her tightly. It’s been months since I’ve seen her. We talk on the phone a lot, but it’s not the same as having her here. “I’m happy to see you too, Penny.” I look over her shoulder. “Nice to see you, Denver.”
Once Aspen lets me go, I shake his hand. “Congratulations, man. I was so happy to hear the good news.”
“You and me both,” he says. “I’ve never been so happy to leave the place I’ve always called home.”
“I’ll bet. So, it didn’t take long for them to reverse your charges or whatever?”
“No, it moved pretty quickly. They had their trial last month and one of the guys gave up evidence so they’d go easy on him. He pretty much cleared my name with all the emails he produced. After that, I was exonerated and then it took a few weeks, but my record was expunged.”
“That’s fantastic,” I say, patting him on the back. “Hey, where is everyone else?”
“The Hawks had to stay after for a short meeting,” Aspen says. “Sawyer was going to wait for them at the stadium. They’ll be here soon. Murphy and Rylee are coming, too. I can’t wait to see them.”
“How about a drink?” I ask. “I stopped to get some on the way. Didn’t know what you’d have here.”
“I’ll get them,” Denver says. “I need to learn my way around the kitchen. Might as well start now.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Didn’t Aspen tell you? I’m moving into their townhouse.”
“You are?”
“It makes sense,” Aspen says. “We aren’t here much, a month in the off-season and then a week here and there. Denver needs a place to stay and we need a caretaker since Sawyer refuses to sell.”
“Are you moving here permanently?” I ask him.
“We’ll see. I’m good for a while, now that the court has ordered those scumbags to pay me back for all the restitution I had to pay the others. But I would like to try and get a job here.”
“But why leave Kansas City?” I ask. “I mean, now that Aspen is
there.”
He laughs. “Yeah, kind of ironic, isn’t it? But I can’t stay there. Even though I was exonerated, the people there have hated me for so long it’s not like they’re suddenly welcoming me with open arms, you know?”
“So now Sawyer can get traded back and play for the Nighthawks, right?” I ask Aspen.
“It’s not that easy,” she says. “Plus, even though all of you aren’t there, we really like it in Kansas City. I’ve got school, my volunteer work, and some old friends. And Sawyer likes the change of pace. I guess we don’t know what the future will bring, but for now, we’re happy with things the way they are.”
“That won’t stop me from trying to talk you into moving back,” I say.
Aspen hugs me again. “I would expect nothing less.”
I raise my beer. “Welcome to the city,” I say to Denver. “You’ve got a friend here whenever you need one.”
He taps his glass to mine. “Thanks, I appreciate that. Maybe we could see some games together.”
“Absolutely. So, what kind of work do you want to do here? Are you thinking NYPD?”
Denver looks disgusted. “Hell, no. I’m not going down that road again. I’m done being a cop.”
I nod. “Yeah, I guess being screwed over by your superior leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Aren’t you pissed as hell?”
He rubs a hand over his jaw. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? And I was. I was pissed for the better part of two years. But now, I’m just so goddamn happy to be free to live my life. And the restitution they have to pay me goes a long way to ease the pain.”
“I know you liked the grounds crew job Sawyer got you with the Royals,” I say. “Are you considering something like that here? Maybe Caden or Brady could hook you up.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Maybe I’ll go back to school until I figure it out.”
I study him for a minute. “Do you have any other criminal record?” I ask. “I mean, now that they’ve expunged the felony, is there anything else? What about your DUI charge last year?”
“Those charges were dropped, remember?” Aspen says.
“Getting that DUI dropped was purely a matter of who I knew,” Denver says. “Sawyer’s attorney found me the best lawyer in KC. He hired a private investigator who found out that the guys at the bar were friends with Kenny Marron. Kenny was the cop who arrested me. He was also the son of one of the guys who screwed me over. Joe, the bar owner, overheard the entire conversation a few days later when the guys were laughing about it in the bar. Apparently, the assholes called Kenny after I mouthed off to them. They saw me take a few drinks and told Kenny to follow me in his police car, because before I left, one of them went outside and punctured my tire. The whole thing was a set-up, so they threw out the case despite the fact that I tested right at the legal limit.”
“So there’s nothing on your record?” I ask. “Nothing at all?”
“That’s right. Why do you ask?”
I glance at Aspen. “Your sister might kill me for suggesting this, but how about trying for FDNY?”
“You want Denver to become a firefighter?” she says.
“Sure. Why not? He was a police officer, so he’s not opposed to civil service. And look at him, he’s in better shape than I am.”
Denver laughs. “Yeah, well, with no friends, there was never anything to do after work other than hit the gym.” He gives me a serious look. “Do you think they’d take me?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but you have your time as a cop under your belt—they’d like that. And you’re in luck, they only offer the test once every four years, and it’s coming up soon.”
“Really?” he asks, looking more than a little interested.
“Yeah. But don’t get your hopes up too high. The waiting list is long. Most guys wait years to get the call. They put you on a list based on your test score, interview, background check, and physical assessment. Then you wait. It took me a few years to get called. I took that time to become a paramedic. They say FDNY is the hardest civil service job to get. But once you’re in, it’s a brotherhood for life.”
“Well, I’ve got nothing but time,” Denver says. “I guess it’s worth a shot.”
Aspen is looking at us as we talk like she’s watching a tennis match. “No way,” she says.
“No way, what? To Denver joining FDNY?”
“Den, have you forgotten that the first time you responded to a car crash as a cop, you called me in a panic?” She puts her hand on his. “You told me they put you behind a desk for a week because you froze. And then you said after that, you’d make sure you were put on traffic duty when being called to an accident.”
Denver shrugs. “That was almost two years ago. I’m sure I’m fine now. Anyway, how many car accidents could there be in a city where you can barely drive over twenty-five miles an hour?”
“More than you’d think,” I say. “Traffic accidents make up a high percentage of our calls. Some of them can get pretty gruesome. Maybe it’s not a good idea. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“Definitely not a good idea,” Aspen says.
Denver shakes his head at his sister. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?”
“No. I don’t, Den. You turn the channel on the TV every time the show you’re watching has a car accident.”
“I do not,” he scoffs.
“You do,” she says. “And it’s understandable. What happened to Mom and Dad was horrible. I just can’t imagine you not thinking about them every time you saw an accident. Or had to witness someone dying.”
Denver looks like he’s going to argue.
I clap my hands together. “Anyway, whatever you decide, I’ll help you however I can. I’m in need of a new project now that I’ve sworn off women.”
“You’ve what?” Denver asks.
“I don’t have the best track record with the ladies,” I say.
Aspen touches my arm. “You haven’t heard from her?”
I shake my head. “It was her birthday last week. She turned twenty-five.”
“Did you try to contact her?” she asks.
“No. But I sent flowers. I didn’t send a card, but she had to know they were from me.”
“Maybe she didn’t.”
“She knew. Besides, nobody else she knows would have gone through a competitor. And nobody sends daisies to a woman for their birthday. Roses and that other romantic shit, but not daisies.”
“Why did you send daisies?”
“They were her daughter’s favorite flower.”
“Really?” Aspen looks at me thoughtfully. “Well, maybe she didn’t like the reminder.”
“No. That’s not it. She was fine with daisies. She just doesn’t want anything to do with me. I sent her a few texts over the past month, but she never responded. The flowers were a last ditch effort.”
“I’m sorry,” she says.
The door flies open. Sawyer walks through followed by Caden Kessler and Brady Taylor with their wives in tow.
We make our greetings and everyone settles in with a drink.
“So, how is it playing for opposing teams?” I ask the guys.
“It’s not so bad,” Caden says. “We all have friends in the league who are on other teams.”
“Yeah, but it sucks that we all can’t celebrate our win together,” Brady says, clinking his glass to Caden’s. “Well, it sucks for Mills anyway.”
Sawyer laughs. “You two go ahead and celebrate. We’ll see who’s celebrating in two months when we make the playoffs and you jerkoffs go home and cry in your beers.”
“Game on, Mills,” Caden says.
“Oh my gosh, they are adorable!” Aspen squeals. “Bass, Denver, you have to see these pictures of their twins.”
Murphy passes her phone to Denver. He does some obligatory fawning over them before handing the phone to me. But all I see as I look at the two babies in the picture are the two children Ivy lost. One boy. One girl. I hope Caden and Murphy kn
ow how lucky they are to have two healthy children.
I stand up and hand the phone back to Murphy. Then I go in the kitchen, open another beer, and lean back against the counter.
Aspen follows me in. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
She looks out at the crowd and then back at me. “Those pictures made you think of Ivy, didn’t they? And the children she lost.”
I nod again.
“You really love her, don’t you?”
I take a swig of my beer. “You’d think I’d be over it by now. Hell, I’ve been apart from her longer than we were together. Why do I have a habit of falling for the wrong women?”
She rubs her forehead, looking at me sympathetically. She knows she was one of those wrong women.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You can’t help who you fall in love with, Bass. Things will get better. And then one day, when you least expect it, your whole world will change.”
She looks back at Sawyer and I know she’s thinking of the day she almost got hit by that bus. The day she met Sawyer. But she’s a chick. Chicks always believe there will be some knight in shining armor. Some happily ever after. That’s not the way life works. Life gets your hopes up and then tramples on you by ripping those you love out of your arms. Just ask Ivy Greene.
Yet in some odd way, I hope Aspen is right. But I don’t wish it for me. I hope that one day, things will get better for Ivy. If I had one wish, it would be that Ivy has that day—that one day where her whole world changes, only this time it would be for the better.
I chug the rest of my beer and reach for another, knowing I won’t be the one there to witness it.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Ivy
“I can’t believe I let you guys talk me into this,” I say, looking around the bar. “I mean, I can’t even drink.”
“Your virgin daiquiri,” the bartender says, pushing my fruity drink across the bar.
“Cheers,” Alder says.
Christina, Holly, Eli, and I raise our drinks and toast each other.
Igniting Ivy (The Men on Fire Series) Page 18