“Why does the Earl cheating on you mean you have to stop making jam?”
I turn my head, keeping it on the counter while I face Ivy.
“Because, Vee. Jam making is not a career. Not the way I do it, anyway. I’ve never turned a profit, and if I’m on my own, I’m going to have to support Sadie somehow. I can’t imagine the Earl is going to be happy to fork over child support every month, and I haven’t had an actual job since I was six months pregnant. I have no money and a history degree that I haven’t used in eight years.
“Even Dad can’t hire me since Stephen moved Hudson Family Construction operations to California. I’m going to have to get some shitty job at the coffee shop and fight with Bob Linden for ride-share and delivery trips just to have two pennies to rub together, and that won’t be easy. Bob might be an old fart, but he’s scrappy as hell now that he’s sober. He could take me. Between that and raising Sadie and trying not to lose my mind, where the hell am I going to find the time to make stupid, overpriced jam, let alone get myself to the farmer’s market to sell it?”
That overwhelming, unsettling feeling swirls in my stomach once again, and I feel bile rising in my throat. God, I am so stupid. I am everything Gloria Steinem tried to warn us about. Don’t get me wrong,I love being a stay-at-home mom and I know my choices are valid; I just wish I had been smarter about them. Why didn’t I save more when I was still working at the university library before giving birth? Why didn’t I get a part-time job or a side hustle sooner? Why did I let my entire financial future rest in the hands of a man just because I’m married to him? I’m incredibly lucky to have my parents because otherwise, Sadie and I would be stuck in my loveless, unfaithful marriage for the financial benefits alone.
I am such an idiot.
“You’re not an idiot, Lilah. And you’re getting about fifty steps ahead of yourself here. First things first—are you going to file for divorce?”
I nod my head against the counter. I’ll have to open a new credit card or borrow money from my parents to hire a lawyer, but there’s no way I can stay married to the Earl anymore.
“Good. We can start calling around and get that process going today if you want. You’re also going to call your gynecologist and get the earliest possible appointment, because lord knows who or what the Earl was sticking his dick in. You need to get tested ASAP. And you don’t have to stay with your parents if you don’t want to. There has been no one in Grandma Millie’s place for a month, and I alreadyhad the cleaners come and the carpets replaced. I have no new tenants lined up; there are two bedrooms and a backyard. It’s the perfect place for us.”
I pop my head up. I didn’t know that Grandma Millie’s place was empty. Ivy inherited the old ranch house after Millie passed away five years ago, and since she has never had any interest in moving back to Fox Hole, she rents it out for dirt cheap. Her childhood home has been the starter house for at least two young families around these parts, and I’m honestly shocked that there was no one lined up to take it over when the last tenants moved out.
“I know you practically rent the place out for next to nothing, but Vee, I can’t afford Grandma Millie’s house. Not on my non-existent jam-maker salary and not when I have to give up my jam dreams to pour coffee at Miss Pattie’s.”
That earns me an eye-roll.
“You’re not paying me rent, Lilah. You, me and Sadie are going to stay at Grandma Millie’s. I’ll help you with Sadie; you can focus on making and selling your jam, and we’ll get you divorced from that idiot rat bastard you married. And in the meantime, I can more than afford to take care of the three of us.”
“No. Absolutely not. I draw the line at you becoming my sugar daddy, Vee.”
“That’s too damn bad, since I have the chalk. I decide where the line is drawn, and it’s not at providing you and Sadie financial stability. You know how much Grandma Millie left me, and you know how much I bring in with Lilith & Lace. I have more than enough to get you divorced and living comfortably for as long as it takes to get your jam business jamming. Don’t even bother fighting me on this. You’re not going to win.”
“The jam thing is just a silly dream, Vee. I shouldn’t spend my time elbows deep in strawberries when I could be earning real money. Even if I turn a profit at the farmer’s market, I’m still years away from opening my own shop.”
“I’ve got this, Lilah. Remember when I was apprenticing in Nashville and you did that paid internship at the Country Music Hall of Fame? I was making pennies on the dollar, but somehow after we’d hang out, there would magically be twenty-dollar bills hidden in all my pockets and every corner of my apartment. Consider this payback for keeping me afloat back then.” She raises a brow, and I have to concede. I hadn’t had much to give, but what I did went to Ivy. I was so incredibly proud of her for going after her dreams, I had to do what I could to help her along.
Which I guess is exactly what she is trying to do for me now.
Ivy stands, moving around the kitchen to refill our coffees and pull out a loaf of bread and some fixings from the refrigerator. The soft thud of tiny feet hitting the floor above us tells me that my daughter is awake, so I’ve got to get my shit together and switch into Mom Mode. But that’s hard when all I want to do is melt into my friend’s arms and cry some more.
“Okay, but what about Lilith & Lace? How are you going to run a tattoo shop in Nashville if you’re here in Fox Hole playing house with me and my daughter?”
“Lilith & Lace is fine without me. Devi and the team have it all under control. I talked to Cliff at The Inkwell last night before I left. That old bastard loves me. He’s going to let me occupy a chair while I’m in town, so if my clients want to come to me, they can. And if I get bored, I’ve got my flash book for walk-ins. I’m not leaving you alone, Lilah. I love you.”
The emotions welling in my chest are too much for me to try to wrangle. Love, despair, gratitude, anger, and a million more battle for dominance in my heart. I don’t know whether to cry or scream or drop to my knees and kiss Ivy’s feet. I don’t know what I did to deserve her unwavering support in every dumbassdecision I’ve made, whether it be marrying the Earl or the time I wanted to swim in the creek in February and we both got pneumonia, but I will spend my life trying to be the best friend that I can to thank her for all of it.
“Ivy!” Sadie shrieks as she runs across the kitchen and launches herself into Ivy’s outstretched arms. I laugh as I shush her—she’s definitely going to wake up my parents with that mouth—but Sadie is already being lifted off the ground and giggling wildly as Ivy attacks her cheeks with kisses, jet black hair tangling with Sadie’s mousey brown locks. The pure, unadulterated love between my favorite little person and my favorite big person helps settle some of the nausea and discomfort swimming inside me.
“Ivy, if you’re here, does that mean we get to have ham and jam sandwiches for breakfast?”
“Heck yeah, Sadie Girl. Ivy’s World Famous HJ’s for everyone!”
“Except not Mama,” Sadie says, right on time with the gag I can’t hold back. Never mind that Ivy named her signature sandwich after a mediocre sex act; I’ve never been able to stomach the gross concoction of Tennessee ham and strawberry jam on grilled white bread that she and my daughter love so much.
“None for Mama, because she has no taste. I think we should add fried eggs, too,” Ivy winks, and I shove back from the island as my stomach churns.
“You two enjoy your gruel. Mama is gonna go upstairs and take a shower.” And probably throw up again, but they don’t need to know that. The “holy shit my life is flipped upside down” nausea will subside, eventually.
“Make a gyno appointment,” Ivy calls after me as I ascend the stairs, leaving behind the happy squeals of my sweet girls and their gross breakfast.
4
