Page 39 of Fire

“That’s a big subject. I guess we could start with what I know about ancient Egypt, then move on to Freud and Jung, and from there, you know, the internet will help. But ‘everything’ might take us a while.”

There it is. A glimmer of the girl I used to know. Something tells me that kind of humor wouldn’t fly with that douche in Seattle.

“About you, silly,” I say. “I want to know everything about you. What happened after you found out you were pregnant?”

“It was hard.” Ivy takes another drink. I watch her lips touch the glass and wish I could pull the thing from her hands and claim that kiss as mine.

“How did your parents take it?”

“I think Mom was secretly thrilled at the prospect of a baby but scared to death over what it meant for me. She was supportive until Dad shut that down in his own special way.”

“At least he had me to blame for everything.” Franklin Cole never liked me and did nothing to hide his opinions. He never thought I was good enough for his little girl. He was right, of course. No one’s good enough for Ivy, but I vowed I’d do everything I could to step up.

“Dad made sure I knew I was just as responsible. Maybe more so.” She stares at a berry stain on her finger, then sucks it into her mouth. “He sat me down one evening after I’d finally accepted that you’d…” She sighs, shaking her head and it’s like the weight of the world has settled on her shoulders. “I thought you’d abandoned me. Oh, God Micah. I was such a mess. You have no idea.”

Technically she abandoned me first, but now’s not the time to drop that bomb.

“And Dad?” Ivy continues. “He swoops in, promising to take care of me, provide food and clothing…toys…for Nell. The only stipulation was that he wouldn’t pay for childcare. It seemed so reasonable at first.”

“I’m sure your mom was happy to pitch in.” I think of my own mother and how she’d be around a baby. Shit…I need to tell my parents about Nell…

Talk about dropping bombs. Hey Mom? Dad? I’d like you to meet your granddaughter. She’s six and all I know about her is her name, her favorite flavor of ice cream, and that she hates all things pink. Have fun!

“See.” Ivy picks up a berry then puts it down, before sliding the plate away. “That’s where things got unreasonable. Dad forbade Mom to help. ‘To teach me a lesson about responsibility,’ he said. Because I needed a healthy reminder about choices and consequences and obviously, growing up with so much privilege had blinded me to the realities of the world.” Ivy sucks in her lips, then chews on the bottom one.

I watch, transfixed, until I swallow hard and straighten. “Would he let your friends watch Nell? Or your friends’ parents?”

“There’s yet another catch. The second Dad learned I was pregnant, he yanked me out of my hoity toity private school and enrolled me in an online high school. I didn’t really have any friends.”

“Which meant no job.”

“And no college.” Ivy folds her arms on the counter. “It was a miracle of timing I didn’t fail my senior year. My due date was the week before graduation. I busted my ass to get my grades as strong as possible in case Nell came early, but thankfully, she was late. Which meant I graduated before she was born and only fell a little behind because of appointments and just generally feeling awful towards the end.”

Meanwhile, my senior year was spent going to parties and prom, staying out late and doing just enough work so my parents wouldn’t complain about my grades. I feel like such a fucking asshole. Guilt twists my insides as I think of everything she had to give up.

“So your dream of being a psychologist?”

Ivy spins her wine glass on the counter and sighs. “That died a long time ago. My life is dedicated to that little girl up there.” She points toward the stairs with a mix of ferocity and devotion.

Becoming a psychologist was all Ivy ever wanted. Every elective she took in high school was aimed at making her more appealing to colleges. She even interned at a clinic one summer to gain medical experience. Her not being able to see that dream come true? Un-fucking-acceptable. Everything she’s been through is unacceptable.

“But you have more free time, now that Nell’s in school, right?” And a fiancé who should have been encouraging her to put her life back on track the second she was able.

“That’s true. And I did look into some online colleges when she started kindergarten last year, just to get the ball rolling, you know? But Julian—my fiancé…or ex-fiancé I guess, as soon as I tell him this break is permanent.” She bites her lip, staring at her bare ring finger. “He made it pretty clear he didn’t want me working. So why bother with college at all?”

“And you were okay with that?” It’s one thing if Ivy wanted to devote her time to being a mom, but if she had time she wanted to devote to herself, and that man had the resources to make it possible? He should have. End of story. That’s what partnership is about. Supporting each other.

“I’d had a few years of being brought down a peg or two by my dad. And at that point, Julian seemed like…I don’t know…a savior. He told me I could focus my energy on Nell and make sure she had the best start possible. It wasn’t until recently I realized that meant I had no freedom, no autonomy. No way to make a life that wasn’t completely dependent on him. What I haven’t decided yet if it was intentional or not. Did he break me down on purpose?”

“Does it matter if he did it on purpose or not? It was wrong either way.”

She drops her gaze and I reach across the counter to lift her chin and meet her eyes.

“I hate that you had to go through all that alone. Shit. I hate that you went through it at all, alone or not. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

“I’m better for it. Stronger, you know?” Ivy straightens, giving me that stupid smile people save for useless platitudes.

She doesn’t seem better. And she certainly isn’t stronger. I start to say as much, then swallow it back with a swig of beer. Is our new relationship open to that kind of honesty?

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