“Waste of money.” Her dad gave her a grin.
Ivy smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“How was your flight?”
“Fine.”
“Your mom made pie.”
“Of course she did.”
“You okay, honey?”
Ivy stared out the window at the stretch of highway.
She had wanted to leave so much. And damn it, she succeeded. Her parents never told her to stay. They always supported her, but Ivy wondered now what would it have been like if she had stayed? She could have helped her parents with the berry farm, even helped them expand.
“Ivy?”
“Sorry. Got lost in thought. I’m okay, Dad.”
“Where is this interview on Tuesday?”
“Near the arena.”
Her dad grunted. “Such a waste of money, that new development.”
“You might like it.” Ivy smiled.
“We’ll see if it ever gets completed.”
Ivy shook her head. Her new phone beeped, and she glanced at it. A text from Emery.
“Is that Gabe?”
“No.”
“Things between you two, okay?”
Ivy bit her lip.
He knew. “You know, you can stay as long as you like.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Here we are.”
So pretty in the afternoon light. The horses at the McNeil’s farm next door were grazing in the pasture. Her parent’s whitewashed farmhouse set back from the road, their berry farm like a vast expansive lawn out front.
“Easy, Felix,” her dad told their collie, who was yapping at them. “I brought her home. Yes, I did.”
Ivy grabbed her carry-on as her dad scratched the collie behind his ear.
The last time she had been home was Christmas. A lump formed in her throat at the familiarity.
Her dad’s toolbox was open in front of the garage, a sheet hanging on the line outside in the yard. Ivy reached down to pet Felix, shaking off the tears in the corner of her eyes.
“Didn’t you bring a jacket?” Her mother raced down the steps to her, her coat open, her hair loose in a messy bun, her glasses sliding down her nose.
