“We do keep it shut,” Ivy says, giving Holly a scolding stare.
Holly shrugs. “Sorry. I guess I just forgot. And when I saw the smoke, I didn’t even think, I just called.”
Duck walks over to Holly, clearly taken with her. “It’s okay, miss. Better safe than sorry.” He gives her a second look. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
“I was at the station once,” she says, glancing between Ivy and me.
“She goes out with Justin sometimes,” I tell him.
“Oh, yeah. That’s it,” he says.
“I’m Holly,” she says, offering Duck her hand along with a seductive smile.
His eyebrows shoot up in appreciation of her flirting. “Steve Hanson.”
“Holly,” Ivy scolds. “Is one of them not enough for you?”
Holly giggles. “I like to keep my options open.”
I look over and see Ivy watching me. I notice what I didn’t at the bar the other night. It looks like she’s put on some weight, which is good since she was so thin when I met her. I remember picking her up and carrying her thinking how light she was. Her gaining weight probably means she’s healing. She is healing without me. She’s healing with Eli.
Then I think about the call earlier and the child who most likely died and the mother who was in for a world of hurt. Maybe Ivy can only heal with Eli because they share a common past. I have no idea what she went through. I can’t even begin to comprehend the depths of her pain. But he can. I can comfort her. I can sympathize. But deep down, I can’t really understand.
And in the end, all I provided was an escape. She all but told me that in the beginning. She never wanted it to be more than a fling. Maybe she knew all along that I could never be the one for her.
I try to make my way to the door, but Ivy cuts me off. “Are you going to leave without saying hello?”
“Oh, now you want me to say hello?” I bite at her. “Hello, Ivy. How are you? It looks like you’re doing well. The store looks good. You look healthy. How’s Eli, by the way?”
“Bass …”
She looks like she wants to say something, but I guess she doesn’t want to in front of an audience.
J.D. and Noah head out the door to the rig while Duck chats with Holly.
“What is it, Ivy?”
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing. It’s just nice to see you, that’s all.”
I pull on her arm and tug her to the side of the shop, out of earshot of the others. “I’d like to say the same thing, but I’d be lying. It’s not nice to see you, Ivy. It wasn’t nice seeing you at the bar and it’s not nice seeing you now. It hurts to see you. And call me selfish, but it kills me to see you doing so well. I mean, I’m glad you are. You deserve to be happy. But I thought you were going to be happy with me, not him.”
Her eyes get glassy, just like they did in the bar. And her arm—it reaches out to me before she pulls it back. She bites her lip as her eyes briefly close. I could swear she wants to tell me something. Her reaction confuses me. It’s been months since Hawaii. She’s with Eli again. Why is she still having this visceral reaction when she sees me?
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Is he … good to you?”
She dabs the corner of her eye with a finger. “Eli is a great guy.”
“I’m sure he is. But that isn’t what I asked.”
She nods. “He’s g-good to me.”
“Then why are you acting like you don’t want me to walk out this door?”
My radio goes off. J.D. must have put us back in service. We’re being sent on another call.
“Coming right out, Cap,” I tell J.D over the radio. “Duck, time to go.” I look over at Ivy. “See you around, Ivy.”
“It’s Ivy Greene,” she says sadly. “That’s what you always called me.”
“Funny how quickly things can change, isn’t it?”
I open the door and Duck and I run out to the rig. As I climb in, I look back to see Ivy staring at me through the front window of her shop. She’s got her arms wrapped around herself and she’s crying. She’s shaking. She’s looking at me like a woman who just lost the man she loves.
I look away. I’ve never felt so goddamned frustrated in my life.
Chapter Thirty
Ivy
I used to love this time of year. Right before Thanksgiving when people would start to put up their Christmas trees. But now, all it does is remind me of how long I’ve been without my daughter. The anniversary of her death is in four weeks. I’ve been trying not to think about it, but it’s hard not to with this baby pressing down on my bladder every minute of the day.
Holly walks out from the back. “I’ll go pick up lunch. What sounds good today?”
I shrug. “Sushi?”
She glares at me. “What is it with you and sushi? You know you aren’t supposed to eat it, but you keep asking for it.”
“Weird craving, I guess. I don’t care what you get. Surprise me.”
It’s a lie. I don’t crave sushi. I don’t even like it that much. But it’s the only food that doesn’t remind me of Bass. Every time I eat steak, it reminds me of Kalapaki Joe’s. Sandwiches make me think of the picnics we used to have on our hikes. Chicken, seafood, burgers, fries—they all remind me of him in some way. And pizza—that’s the worst—all I can see is Bass naked in bed if I even smell pizza.
Hell, I can’t even eat at the restaurant next door anymore. The owner’s name is Erma.
It’s been four and a half months since I got back from Hawaii. That’s one hundred and thirty-seven days since I’ve been in his arms. And it still hurts just as much today as it did back then.
I often wonder how being with someone for such a short time could have evoked such feelings. But then I remember one of the movies I watched early this year when I did nothing but hole up in my apartment and watch TV.
It was The Bridges of Madison County. It was about a stranger who showed up on the doorstep of a married woman whose family was out of town for the weekend. The woman never meant to fall for the man, but in just a period of days, hours even, the two of them fell in love. They had a lifetime of experiences in a single weekend. And in the end, she could have chosen him over her husband. Over her family. It seemed like such an easy choice based on what they had shared. But she didn’t. She did the right thing even though it killed her. Then decades later, a delivery shows up on her doorstep. It’s a package from the man she never stopped loving. He had died, and the way she reacted—it was like they had just parted the day before, not twenty-five years earlier.
That woman is me. I’m Meryl Streep and Bass is Clint Eastwood.
I love Bass to the ends of my soul. And just like Clint was Meryl’s soul mate, I know Bass is mine. And I know that no matter who I end up with in life, nobody could ever take his place.
Sometimes I fantasize about ending up with Bass. After everything else happens. Maybe the baby ends up healthy and Bass is okay being a stepdad. Or maybe the baby is sick like Dahlia and I have a few precious years with him, after which, I end up in Hawaii again only to have Bass follow me there. And then we live out our happily ever after.
But I know I’m just kidding myself. I’ve pushed him away and I’ve pushed hard. I can’t expect him to sit around and wait for me. Not when he thinks I’m with another man. I’ve wanted so many times to tell him that I’m not. But I don’t. I can’t. I love him too much to let him experience the kind of pain Eli and I could be in for.
I try to suppress my tears when I look over at the wall with Dahlia’s art. One picture hanging there still confuses me. It’s a picture of Dahlia with a daisy in her hair. She’s between two adults who are swinging her by her arms. One of the adults has long hair, like me, but the other has dark hair, so it can’t be Eli. I used to think it was Alder, but why would she leave Holly out of the picture?
Is it possible that she knew even before she died that I would fall in love with someone? With Bass?
The bells over the door jingl
e and cold air wafts in when an old woman walks through.
“Good afternoon,” I say.
She eyes my swollen belly. “Well, look at you, dear. Aren’t you vibrant and full of life?”
I give her my best smile. “What can I help you with?”
“I need to order some flowers for the reception after my sister’s funeral.”
“Oh, my. Please accept my condolences.”
“Thank you, dear. It was time. She was old. Older than me even. Ninety-seven. She lived a good life and now she’s dancing with her husband in heaven.”
And once again, I find myself swallowing tears. Every time someone makes a comment like that, I think of when I’ll get to see Dahlia and Jonah again.
I get out a picture book of funeral flower arrangements. There are a lot of lilies—those are usually the flowers of choice. But the woman waves the book away. “Daisies,” she says. “Minnie loved them. I know a lot of people don’t care for the smell, but the old geezers will just have to put up with it.” Then she laughs. “Our friends and family might be older than dirt, and we may not be able to see all that well, but we can smell. Oh, it’ll be a hoot. Minnie would love it. I think I’ll need about twelve dozen. Just arrange them however you want.”
“I love daisies, too,” I say, glancing over at Dahlia’s art wall.
The woman studies my belly. “You must be having a girl,” she says. “You’re carrying high. That’s a sure sign of a girl. My mama had ten children. Minnie and I were the oldest. Got to watch our mother go through ten more pregnancies because she lost two of them. We got good at figuring it all out. The boys carry low, like they can’t wait to get out and get away from their mamas.”
I try not to roll my eyes at her. I’ve had other people swear up and down that it’s a boy since I’m carrying most of the weight in my belly.
“Uh … I’m not sure what I’m having. I haven’t let them tell me.”
She puts her hand on my arm. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid I’ve gone and ruined the surprise then.”
“It’s okay,” I say.
She scribbles down her address for the delivery and hands me her credit card. Then she looks at Dahlia’s wall. “The lucky papa must be so happy,” she says, pointing to the picture of Dahlia with me and … whoever.
“Oh, he’s not the … and that’s not the … er, forget it. Thank you.”
“No, thank you, dear.” She walks to the door, but before she goes through, she turns around. “It’s nice to meet someone who loves daisies as much as Minnie did. What was it the old bat used to say? Oh, yes. ‘Daisies make everything better.’ Goodbye now.”
I stare out the window long after she’s gone, wondering if she really said that or if I was just hearing things. Then, my heart races when I think I see Bass outside. I know he walks by sometimes. Holly tells me she sees him occasionally. He does live and work in Brooklyn, so it makes sense. But somehow, we’ve managed to avoid each other for the past two months.
But as I see him walk by a second time, I wonder if he often comes by to catch a glimpse of me. And part of me hopes he does. I look down at my not-so-small baby bump and wonder if he’s seen it yet.
When I look back up and see him in the window, staring at me with a gaping mouth, I have my answer.
He throws the door open. “You’re pregnant? What the hell, Ivy?” He looks me up and down. “Is it mine?”
I put my hands on my belly protectively as I shake my head. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Bass. I was”—I clear the viscous knot in my throat—“I was already pregnant when I went to Hawaii.”
“You were what?” he screams across the shop.
I walk behind the counter to put more separation between us. He looks more than hurt. He looks mad.
“It’s Eli’s. I didn’t know.”
“How could you not know? You lied to me in Hawaii? The whole time I thought we were falling in love, you were still with your ex?”
“No. I didn’t lie to you. It was a big mistake,” I say. “I hadn’t been with him in years. Not since we split up. But she was gone. And it was her birthday. And we just … we just …”
He shakes his head and paces around the shop. I watch him as he goes through a myriad of emotions. His hands run through his hair. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He looks over at me and then at Dahlia’s wall.
“This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen,” he says.
My shoulders drop. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Do you love Eli? Or are you just with him for the baby?”
I can’t answer without giving myself away. So I just cover my mouth with my hand and shake my head.
“What the fuck, Ivy? You went and married the guy?” he asks, his voice choking with tears.
It’s now that I realize he saw the ring on my finger.
He turns around and heads for the door.
“It’s not what you think, Bass.”
He pushes the door open, and on his way out, he says, “I think I just let you rip my heart out for the last time. Goodbye, Ivy.”
My body crumples onto the ground behind the counter and I break down in sobs. That was it. That was the last time I’m going to see him. I know it for sure now. But then the door chimes jingle and I rise up on my knees, hoping he changed his mind. When I see Holly come through with our lunch bags, however, I collapse back down onto the floor.
“Was that Bass leaving the shop?” Then she sees me. “Oh, God, Ivy.”
She drops our lunch and quickly locks the front door, then she sits next to me on the floor, cradling me in her arms as I cry into her shoulder.
Chapter Thirty-one
Sebastian
“Call her,” Aspen says, as we finish up our cool down on the treadmills.
“I don’t know. It’s been so long since we’ve talked. Maybe there’s just too much water under the bridge.”
“I ran into her last week, you know,” she says.
My eyebrows shoot up. “You did?”
“Yeah. And your name may have come up once or twice.”
I laugh. “Once or twice, huh?”
“It’s time, Bass. I’m tired of seeing you mope around.”
“I’m not moping.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Denver pretty much tells me everything. I know you have a ‘bro code’ and all that, but twins trump bros. And he says you go home early from every outing. Alone.”
“Not every guy wants to have a girlfriend, you know.”
“And he says you practically live here at the gym. He tells me you work out with him a lot.”
“He needs someone to hang out with,” I say.
She laughs. “He does not. I happen to know that he doesn’t always go home alone. He does live in our place, in case you forgot.”
“Did I mention how nice it is to have you back for the holidays, Aspen?” I say sarcastically. “I mean, it’s been years since I’ve had so much mother henning.”
The truth is, it has been nice having Aspen back in town for the past week. They moved back into the townhouse after her fall finals and they’ll be here for a month until spring semester starts—well, except when they take their honeymoon. And even though they have a home gym in their basement, she’s here spending time with me.
Aspen is getting her master’s degree in music back in Kansas City. Obviously, with Sawyer being one of the most skilled MLB players of our time, she won’t ever have to work if she doesn’t want to. But music has been her passion since she was a little girl. And I’m willing to bet big money she’ll never give it up. Just like I still play my guitar every day, the piano will always be her first love.
“Have you given any thought to what you want to do when you graduate?” I ask.
“Every day.”
“And?”
“Well, Sawyer’s job is demanding. I like to be home for him in the off-season. And it would be nice to be able to come back here whenever we wanted to. But doing what he does keeps him on the road a lot
and I need something for me when he’s gone. Something to give my life purpose.”
“So?”
She widens her eyes and shrugs a shoulder. “So, I have a year to think about it. Right now, I’m just trying to make sure all the wedding plans are in order.”
Then she looks sad.
“What it is?” I ask.
“I don’t know. It’s just with the holidays coming and all the wedding planning, I guess I just miss my parents. When I was little, I dreamed of my dad walking me down the aisle.”
“I’m sorry, Penny. I know that will be hard for you.”
“Denver will be there for me. And I love him. But we both know it won’t be the same.”
“Speaking of Denver, what’s he been up to lately? I haven’t seen him this week.”
She shakes her head and sighs. “Your guess is as good as mine. He’s living off the restitution money while he figures it out. He spends all his time downstairs in Sawyer’s weight room. Oh, shit,” she says, turning off her treadmill. “You don’t think he’s working out so much so he can apply to FDNY, do you?”
“No. That ship sailed a few months ago. As I told you before, they only offer the test once every four years.”
She blows out a relieved breath. “Good. I’m not sure I’d be able to watch him fail. He’s been through so much already.”
“Why are you so sure he would have failed?” I ask. “You really think he can’t overcome what happened to your parents?”
“You have no idea, Bass. When I went home for the summer right after they died, he wouldn’t even drive a car. I’m sure I told you this before. If he couldn’t walk or get a friend to drive him somewhere, he would just stay home. He took a lame job at the mall a few miles down the road just so he could ride his bike. When I visited him the next summer, at least he was driving, but only when he absolutely had to. His girlfriend at the time drove him everywhere. I’m not sure why he thought it was okay to get in a car with someone else behind the wheel, but he did.”
“Most fears are irrational,” I say. “And he obviously overcame his fear of driving in order to become a cop. Maybe he can overcome his fear of accidents as well.”
Igniting Ivy (The Men on Fire Series) Page 20