Page 9 of Missing Pieces

It’s about a ten-minute drive to Ivy’s old house from the diner. It sits at the top of a tree-lined hill. From the outside, it looks like a cute little house. It has a huge yard that sprawls out into the forest to the side and behind the house. It seems pretty secluded. I can see another house a bit farther down the road but in no way intrusive on the privacy of my new temporary home.

“Here we are!” she exclaims. “I love this little old house. I put some work into it, but it could definitely use a few upgrades. I am sure it’s nothing compared to a house in the big city.”

I follow her through the front door and into the living room. I am a bit taken back by the floral tapestries and pale yellow walls. But like she said, it’s definitely not like the city. “The yard is enough to make this better than the city. You practically live on your neighbors there.”

“I would never be able to do that. I like my privacy. Well as much as you can get around the gossip. But at least out here no one can hear me and Trace getting it on.” She winks at me and I laugh. She has no idea how annoying it is to hear your neighbors fucking as loud as a jet engine.

She walks me through the rest of the house and I can just imagine all the things I could do to the place. I went to school for interior design but never was able to get a job. But it was still a hobby of mine. Maybe if I made enough cash, she wouldn’t mind if I spruced the place up a bit. It could be a form of payment for letting me stay here.

“Shit!” she yells. “We should have stopped at the grocery store and picked ya up some food. I don’t think there is anything here but crackers and maybe some peanut butter.”

“That’s fine I can survive on that for one night.”

“Nonsense. Why don’t you come over for dinner? We live on the other side of town, but I can drive you back afterward. Maybe stop at the store on the way.”

“Ivy, you have seriously done enough. I don’t need to intrude on you any more than necessary.”

Ivy throws her hands up in the air, “Oh hush girl. The kids are at Trace’s mom’s for the week. It’s like a night out. You are coming to dinner. Heaven knows you need it.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door.

* * *

Trace and Ivy live in a beautiful cabin on five acres of forested land. They have a private drive that leads up to the house. Ivy told me they have expanded it over the last few years to accommodate for their kids. It has a huge kitchen that makes me want to learn to cook and a beautiful view off the back of the house that overlooks the Appalachian Mountains and a small lake. If I ever designed a home, I would want this. I didn’t think it would fit into my city life. I laugh as I think of a beautiful mountain cabin being built next to the mansions off Sheridan Road back home. I do have to say, there is something so serene about sitting on their back porch with a glass of wine listening to the sounds of nature. I never thought it would be something I would enjoy but it is temporary, so I might as well enjoy it while I can.

Ivy and I enjoy a glass of cold white wine while Trace cooks in the kitchen. The weather cooled down a bit tonight so it’s perfect for a dinner outside. Ivy tells me Trace always kicks her out of the kitchen when he’s cooking because she always gets in the way. I know the feeling. Drew, my-ex, was the same way. Except he would get angry with me. I don’t know why I never saw some of the things he put me through. I guess I thought it was normal to fight often. God knows my parents did all the time when I was growing up. But they grew out of it. I just thought it was normal. Drew was stressed a lot from work and the long hours. I did my best to keep him happy, but it didn’t always work.

“Earth to Harper?”

I snap my head toward Ivy and realize my mind drifted off again.

“I know you don’t really want to talk about what happened to you. And I only know the bits and pieces of what happened from what Trace could decipher,” she places her hand on my arm, “but if you need to talk to anyone, you have me. I know we don’t know each other that well and it's only been a couple days, but I am a good listener. So, whenever you decide you need to talk, sugar, my ears are open.”

Tears well up in my eyes and I try to push them down. “Thanks,” I manage to whisper.

She smiles a closed lip smile and throws back the rest of the wine in her glass. “Looks like we need more wine, let me run in and get some.”

I stand before she does and offer to get it myself. I walk into the kitchen and see Trace chopping vegetables. “Hi. I just came to get us more wine.”

“I’d rather have you come in the kitchen than calamity jane out there. She would probably knock the food on the floor opening the wine.”

“I can’t say I’m much better. I burned three inches off my hair before leaning too close to the stove.”

He smiles a genuine smile at me and it makes me feel less awkward being here. “Wine’s in the fridge,” he nods toward the wood concealed door.

I realize I never apologized to him sober about my drunken behavior those two nights when I first got here. “I am so sorry about the other night. Well, both nights. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or cause any harm to your business.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you knew half the people in this town, you would see they get just as bad as you did.” I wince at the statement. “Sometimes they get worse. Brush it off. Ain’t no one talking about that anymore, Harper.”

I nod and pour two glasses of wine from the bottle I grabbed from the refrigerator. I hear a car door slam shut, followed quickly by the front door opening and closing.

“Where y’all at?” yells a man from the foyer.

“In the kitchen,” Trace answers.

I feel less guilty about feeding off Trace and Ivy since they invited more people over. I turn to take the wine outside just as Easton walks into the kitchen. So maybe more people wasn’t the correct answer, just one person. And the last person I really want to see right now.

“What are you doing here, sweet cheeks?” Easton asks me. His eyes look up and down my body like he hasn’t seen me before and I can’t help but feel a rush of heat between my thighs when he looks at me like that. Why does this man do this to me?

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