Page 23 of Yours Truly

Once I’m out of here tonight, I’ll talk to my best friend Jack. He always listens.

SEVEN

Does it do something with a banana?

Ivy

“Oh, come on,” Dolly whines, stomping her bare foot on the kitchen floor. “Please?”

I dunk the knife into the open jar of mayonnaise one more time. “Only one more swipe, right?” I look over at Bear who is perched atop a barstool, his little legs swinging. He nods.

I slather the bread again, pressing the slices together to spread the condiments around. Peeling the wax paper off a slice of precut cheese, I add it to the bread to begin the ingredient layering. “I let you host a one-month celebration dinner already. That was… enough.”

“Enough?” Dolly harrumphs as Juni appears at the top of the basement stairs, using one of her bare feet to knock the door closed behind her. Arms full of empty canning jars, she waddles toward the island and sets them down with a sigh. “What was enough?”

“Aunt Ev wants to have girls’ night for Ivy but Ivy doesn’t wanna,” Bear says, dipping an animal cracker into the little dish of fresh jam Juni put out for him.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna… I mean, I love hanging out with you guys,” I amend, immediately feeling guilty and selfish.

It’s just… wine and comfort is the literal recipe for secret spilling.

Dolly knows I want Trace. For that matter, I’m sure Juni does too considering she brought me my coffee every day for the last week and I made no effort to hide my sketch—which was of Trace’s hand holding the tattoo machine.

She didn’t ask whose hand it was but she’s met Trace and it’s highly unlikely that I’d be sketching a different man with an octopus wielding eight knives. Yep. That’s what Trace has on the top of his hand. Three legs coiled beneath its body, the other five fingers bearing a leg with tentacles, a different bladed knife held by each.

From what I’ve seen, that’s the only maritime ink he’s got. And I have seen him naked.

That monstrous veiny thing of his flashes through my mind. I chew the inside of my mouth to keep the groan from flying out of me.

“C’mon,” Juni joins, “Ev said she’s using her fondue maker. She hasn’t used it since she’s been married.” She uses the end of her sundress to wipe sweat from her face, then pulls her hair into a messy bun. “Pop the fondue cherry with us.”

“Girls’ night,” Dolly begs.

If I don’t go, I’ll stay home and work on my sketch of Trace’s hands, then masturbate while I think of his hands (and other long, thick, swinging things) and then force myself to fall asleep while frustrated, horny and excited.

“Fine, I’m in,” I agree as I finish layering ingredients onto the slices of bread. I cut the sandwich and pass it to Bear. “You gonna be at girls’ night or what?” I ask him.

He wrinkles his nose. “Heck no!”

Juni gasps for dramatic effect. Dolly winks at him while she balances Honey on her hip. “Tell your aunts what you’re doing instead,” she says, standing at his side as she smooths her long fingers through his hair. I watched their relationship start, from the first time she watched him as a baby in footie pajamas, all the way to pulling him from the creek and giving him mouth-to-mouth. Dolly is the embodiment of a mother, loving that child hard, as if he came from her. Watching Dolly have a child with Hudson has only intensified and validated her natural role as a mother. Bear, Honey and now their new little one growing in her belly are so lucky.

“Gettin’ tattooed,” Bear grins, a smear of mayo at the corner of his mouth.

I smack my hand on the counter. “And you’re not having me give you your very first tattoo?”

He sets his sandwich down, using his little white napkin to clean his hands. Serious expression on his face, he says, “It’s not going to be a real tattoo Ivy. I’m only six.”

I fight the laughter threatening to spill out. I take his hand and hold it. “Thank goodness,” I breathe. “Promise you save your first for me, okay?”

He returns to his sandwich, saying, “Okay, I promise. Tonight, Trace is gonna give me a cool temporary tattoo while Daddy and Uncle Deuce install something.”

“Something?” I mimic, turning to look at Dolly. “What are they installing?”

She shrugs. “I dunno.” A smirk curls the end of her mouth. “I mean, Huddy told me but as he was telling me he was also undressing for the shower so… you know me. I can’t hear a damn thing when that man is N U D E,” she smiles, spelling her inappropriate behavior so that Bear doesn’t catch on.

I roll my eyes. “Your obsession is admirable.” It doesn’t surprise me that her passion hasn’t waned even a little bit.

Ellington women set their sights on things and very rarely break stride.

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