Page 71 of Fire

I feign innocence. “How do you know there’s a woman?”

“You went from basically living here to only stopping in from time to time and not staying long. At first, I thought you finally believed me when I said you didn’t need to take care of us, but then I asked myself, Hey Tuck? What’s the one thing that would keep Ole Tower from visiting his friend with the bum leg? And then it hit me. Something of the female variety oughta do it.” He grins, hefting his leg onto the ottoman and rubbing his thigh.

After Tucker got out of the hospital, his entire demeanor changed. He was angry. Short-tempered and morose. He felt like his life had been stolen from him and bitterness permeated everything he said and did. The man in front of me laughs quickly, without a sign of that darkness anywhere. It’s like I’ve been given my friend back after getting my girl back.

Content for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, I cross my ankle over my knee and thread my hands behind my head. “What if I told you there were two something’s of the female variety?”

Tucker gapes. “Then I’d ask you to tell me more. But carefully, quietly, and in a way that won’t scar my children or concern my wife.”

I explain everything from the night of the fire onward. Tucker listens with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. “You have a kid.” He scrubs his face with his hands, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s one of those things that takes a minute to get used to, but Ivy and me? We’ve kind of found a rhythm of sorts.”

A rhythm where she doesn’t even think of me when our daughter has a crisis.

A rhythm where everything I do is met with resistance because “she needs to be more independent.”

“That giant crease between your eyebrows says maybe you’re not as comfortable with that rhythm as you want me to believe.” Tucker waggles a finger in my direction.

Shit. I didn’t know I was that transparent. I rub the spot between my brows to ease the tension. “I don’t know. She’s had some sketchy situations with men, and she literally broke off her engagement while she was living with me. And I keep trying to help and she keeps trying to find her footing and…”

And what? Ivy’s need for independence makes sense when you’re listening to the highlight reel.

Am I being the asshole here?

Tucker nods like the wisest man that ever was. Maybe the cane gives him street cred. “It’s got you wrapped around the axle.”

“It does.” I brace my elbows on my knees. “I loved her so much when we were kids and it’s like all that feeling was just waiting for her to show back up and claim it. If anything, I care more about her now than I did then.”

“And she loves you?”

“She says she does. I just don’t know how to be around her, you know? My natural reaction is to take care of her. I thought giving her a place to stay after the fire would be a good move, but she won’t accept anything else I do to try and help because she doesn’t want to take advantage of me. She wants to prove she can be independent, but she doesn’t make enough money to live on her own. She just doesn’t. And I make more than enough to support all of us. I want to support all of us. To fix the mistake I made, right away as fast as I can.”

My focus darts out the window, to the hazy day outside. Laughter comes from the kitchen as Analise and the kids make breakfast. Ten bucks says they’ll bring a plate in for Tucker because that’s what family does for each other. That doesn’t make him dependent or mean he’s taking advantage. It’s just the way these things work. Why can’t Ivy see that?

This is all so complicated and I fucking hate it. I love Ivy. She loves me. Why is this so hard?

“You do that a lot you know,” Tucker says, and the tone of his voice says he knows he’s about to piss me off.

“Do what?”

“Assume you made a mistake when you didn’t.” He sits back like he’s dropping the mic, but I have no clue what he’s talking about.

“You’re gonna have to elaborate, man.”

“You’ve taken the blame for my accident since it happened. Like there was anything you could have done to change things.”

I purse my lips. “I was the officer in charge, and I could have seen that beam wasn’t secure.”

“And I outrank you and could have seen it just as easily.” Tucker leans forward. “I was the one who walked into that room. I was the one who made the mistake and you’ve been bringing groceries and toys and doing penance like you pushed me. Not that we don’t appreciate it, not at all. But, at some point, you’re going to have to accept that my accident wasn’t your fault.”

My brain balks at the statement. I could have done anything different and Tucker wouldn’t have spent weeks in the hospital and then months recovering here at home. But I don’t have it in me to argue with him. Not now.

“Let’s assume that’s true for the sake of argument.” I lean forward, elbows on knees, certain he’s got it all wrong. “How does it translate to this situation with Ivy? I definitely made a kid with a person, and I definitely haven’t been there for the last seven years.”

“But you didn’t know you had a daughter, Micah.” Tucker’s jovial face is gentle, and I don’t know what to do with that. “How can you be at fault if you didn’t know?”

“Are you saying this is on Ivy?” I push out of the chair and stride to the window. I shouldn’t have come. I should have just gone home and gone to bed and everything would have been okay.

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