“I don’t want my presence in Birch Borough to bother you—”
“It doesn’t. At least, not in the way you’re implying.” Ivy’s sigh cracks a part of my heart open. “So, Emmy? Dancing is important to her?”
I clear my throat. “Yes, she—she stopped dancing about a year ago. She asked about her mother one day, and she just . . . stopped.”
Her eyes widen.
I continue, “And I—I just wanted to see her dance again. Needed to, I think. And yours is the only dance studio in town.”
“Not to mention the best one in the county.” Ivy’s voice is quiet. “I’m sorry Emmy has experienced so much loss.”
Blinking rapidly, I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from pouring out the truth of every other part of our lives that has tanked since I last saw Ivy. There have been good things too, but it’s the loss that stands out.
Ivy leans in slightly, and I’m pulled to her like a magnetic energy still lives between us. “So, you need help building your sets. Why?”
She looks alarmed at first. Ivy’s shoulders lift in a delicate shrug, but then she straightens her spine in a way that makes me proud. She’s a fighter, this one. And I respect her for her bravery.
“The guy who always helps me accidentally injured himself, and everyone else is pretty much booked. It’s an unspoken rule around here that we don’t get people outside of town to help, but we’re only weeks away from the performance.”
“When is it?”
“It runs right after Christmas, before New Year’s,” she replies. “We’ve found a greater turnout when all the families are in town. If I don’t have the sets ready in time . . .” She pauses abruptly, softly clearing her throat.
“Makes sense.” I pause, watching as Ivy focuses on a distant tree dusted with snow. “What else?”
“What do you mean, ‘what else’?” The narrowing of her eyes assures me I’m right to pull at this thread.
“There’s more to this. I can tell it’s important to you. Before we freeze out here, I’d like to know why.”
Ivy shakes her head, and there’s a hint of a chatter in her jaw. It’s the New England marvel where you see and feel the sun but still can’t get warm with the temperature this frigid. “Scholarships are at stake with this performance. Birch Borough is pretty well off as far as towns go. Still, I have so many students who may have what they need to survive daily, but the extra income for dance just isn’t there. And I know it’s helped me tremendously to move through life. The end-of-yearperformance is when most of our donations for the whole year come in. I can’t let my students down.”
Resin tugs her in the direction of the smell of caramelized popcorn near the gift shop on the corner. I can literally see it popping through the window, as fresh as fresh gets. The thought that the scene could be on a greeting card feels typical of how this town operates, and it’s wild.
“Not now, love bucket,” Ivy says affectionately, redirecting Resin to go the other way.
“Love bucket?” I hold back a rusty chuckle as Ivy’s cheeks warm.
“He’s been the steadiest man in my life.” She smiles, looking down at him, but I watch it fade when her eyes lift to me again.
An ache resurges deep in my chest. I wish I could’ve had the chance to hold that title.
Even bundled in her red winter coat, I sense how fragile she is next to me. I want to reach out and hold her, to remember just once what she felt like in my arms, and to show her how much affection I’m capable of giving. Instead, I give her another reason to push me away, clearing my throat and letting my learned abruptness slip through.
“I don’t think helping you with sets would actually be helpful. Ivy, I’m sure it’s clear to you that I’m not the same man that I was when we first met. And I wish I could change it, but you should hear the truth from me.”
I think it’s going to push her away, but Ivy simply shifts closer, her head tilting up until her hot-chocolate eyes look into mine.
“Yes, I see that. But just so you know, I’m not the same woman.” With a small nod, she turns toward the bridge, Resin stepping into place beside her. She takes a few steps away then pauses. Her profile is etched against the winter white sky as she continues, “I still may not fully know what you’ve been fightinginside, but I can see that you’ve lost your hope, Jace.” Her rose-colored lips quirk to the side. “And I think you should allow yourself to hope for everything.”
Chapter Ten
Ivy
We’re at Town Hall, gathered to look at the Christmas trees decorated by a few of our most creative townspeople. The fine residents of Birch Borough get to vote on which design is their favorite every year.
It gets quite competitive because the winner earns a gift certificate to the General Store and Sparrow’s Beret. We also have an anonymous donor each year who matches the number of votes with dollars that go into a fund for whatever is most needed for various town projects. Last year, the donation went to the library. A few years ago, it was used to invest in a new dance floor for my studio. This year, it’s going into the budget to repair a damaged part of the bridge.
It’s generosity like this that reminds me of how lovely it is to be a part of a community that cares about each other. Often, I reflect on the fact that we all have within us exactly what we need to make our town better as a collective whole, and the holiday season simply reinforces that belief.
