“Fuck.” I groan into my pillow. The sight of Ivy DeLucas was a surprise, and not a good one. I never wanted to see her again, to be honest. Why would I? She packed up her shit one night and left our child and me behind. Sure, I thought she’d change her mind halfway to wherever the fuck she was going, but that’s not what happened. Instead of regretting her choice, she drove west and never looked back. Not once did she check in on Andi.Not fucking once. And tonight, standing in my driveway with my kid ten feet away, she didn’t even fucking ask about her. Who the fuck does that shit? Maybe she’s not back here to claim her daughter. If that’s the case, why is she here? Sure, I know what she said. I heard her words, but nothing Ivy does is that simple.
There’s got to be more to it, because Ivy DeLucas doesn’t forgive easily, nor does she do anything on a whim. She’s resentful and calculated, to put it mildly. Back in high school, if she didn’t get what she wanted, whatever that thing was, there was hell to pay. Take the school musical for example. She wanted the lead like she’d had in the play the year before, but Ivy can’t sing. Worse than that, she’s tone-deaf. Anyway, when Mr. Carmichael, our music teacher, gave the lead to someone else––someone who could actually carry a tune––Ivy was so livid, she went on a campaign to have the play boycotted. It worked to a certain extent. It got so bad Mr. Carmichael finally gave in and gave her the lead. To say the thing was awful is an understatement. But Ivy didn’t care. She got what she wanted.
Then there was the whole shit show at prom our senior year. She wanted to be prom queen. The fact that she was crowned homecoming queen earlier in the year wasn’t enough. When she wasn’t even nominated to the prom court, most likely because she was six months pregnant, she made sure everyone knew the title belonged toher. Her best friend, Nicole, won and things have never been the same between them. As far as I know, they’re no longer best friends. Hell, I don’t even think they’ve spoken in years. Itwasunfair that she was eliminated from qualifying due to pregnancy.Iwasn’t and I was the father. That shit stunk of inequity, but honestly, who the fuck cares about something like that? We were having a kid, for fuck’s sake. Ivy cared though.
With a sigh, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I need to paint in here. Everything is just sort of dingy. I let my thoughts of Ivy roll around in my head for a little while. I’m not tired, so sleep isn’t going to come easily. Reaching out, I pick up my phone.
Me: Can’t sleep.
Isabelle: Me neither.
Me: What if she’s here to take Andi?
Isabelle: Is that what you think she’s doing?
Me: Hell if I know.
Isabelle: She didn’t mention her name once.
Me: I know, but that doesn’t mean she’s not going to try.
Isabelle: Do you think she’d succeed?
Me: Who knows? I’m not married. According to my mom, judges will often side with the mother.
Isabelle: That doesn’t seem fair.
Me: No, it doesn’t.
Isabelle: So, what are you going to do?
Me: Wait and see. I want to know what she’s up to.
Isabelle: You think she’s up to something?
Me: The only thing I know for sure is her dad is doing okay, which makes her excuse just that, an excuse.
Isabelle: She did say her mom told her a week ago that you were settling down. She thinks we’re dating.
Me: Others in town must think so too.
Isabelle: I suppose.
Isabelle: I guess we shouldn’t be seen together, especially if it’s going to cause problems between you and Ivy. Andi’s reading has gotten so much better…
Not be seen together?I don’t like the idea of not being able to see Isabelle. Instead of sending another text message, I opt to call her instead.
She answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
I don’t bother saying anything other than “I don’t think us being seen together is a bad thing.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “As a matter of fact, I think we should play it up.”
There’s hesitation in her voice. “Um, play what up?”
“Our relationship.”
