Page 21 of Up In Smoke

“What happened?”

She shook her head, not able to answer him in words as she inhaled sharply through her nose, as though she were holding it all behind the pressed line of her lips.

“Ivy, you can tell me.” His heart felt the push and pain of seeing her like this and he didn’t know what to do besides offer help. But what help did she need?

She shook her head again, her lips pressed tight and, for a moment, he thought maybe she couldn't speak. But he tried one more thing. “I told you about my brothers. You can tell me anything.”

He hadn't even realized that Ivy had stepped back, leading him into the open space of the living room and closing the door behind him. As he heard the lock slide home, her shaky voice told him, “My brother died.”

Luke tried not to look shocked. Clearly, Ivy was upset, but he hadn't even known she had a brother. Come to think of it, she’d never mentioned siblings or even a mother or a father. So he simply turned to face her, standing awkwardly in the empty space and trying to look like he fit. “Tell me.”

“He was an asshole.”

Once again, she’d shocked him.

“His wife is probably sad that he's gone, but she shouldn't be. He treated her like crap and left her with four little kids. Two of them I didn't even know about.”

Holy crap. No wonder she was crying. He was stunned by the news himself and found himself asking, “When did he die?”

“Nine months ago.”

And she hadn't known?

This time, her hands lifted, waving as haphazardly as her words. Her shoulders rolled with a deep breath and an exhale that said maybe she would finally let it all out.

Looking around, Luke motioned for her to sit. The kitchen had been so burned out, it had allowed for a little bit of redesign. They’d added a small bar to the existing counter and he saw that she'd gotten stools for it. Even if she didn't yet have chairs or a TV or a table, there was a place to sit without pulling her into her office or her bedroom.

It pushed at him again, that he wanted to get those things for her, to fill in the house and replace the things that he still felt partly guilty for her losing. But this was the only option, so he pulled out one of her own barstools and motioned her toward it.

Then he went to the new silver fridge and found two bottles of hard lemonade.Alcohol. He hadn't expected that either. He opened one very empty drawer to find three knives, a cutting board, and the bottle opener he needed.

He wondered if he knew Ivy dean at all. But now wasn't the time to question that. She was leaning forward with her face in her hands, and he could still see that the tears were coming fresh again.

He wanted to ask how her brother had died and she'd not known for nine whole months. But clearly, that wasn't the issue. He tried something gentler. “Was he your only brother?”

Had she said? He didn't remember.

Ivy shook her head. “I have thirteen brothers and sisters.”

He shouldn't have been taking a drink right then. He almost leaned over the sink so he didn't spit it onto her floor, but managed to get it swallowed. Maybe he shouldn't drink while Ivy Dean revealed her secrets.

Luke couldn't think of anything to say to that. And it didn't matter because she quickly filled in, “Well, I guess I only have twelve now.”

Fourteen children. He thought it was harsh being one of four. He'd envied the families that had just one or two kids because they seemed to have more time and more money to go around. Though he wouldn’t trade his brothers for anything, his parents had definitely overshot with how many kids they could support.

His mother had always complained about feeding four boys and here Ivy was one of fourteen. He softly pushed the bottle toward her, the black label again reminding him that there were things he didn’t know about her.

Luke watched as one slim hand came out and wrapped around the bottle. She lifted it and took the longest swig imaginable, draining half of it in one gulp. When she swallowed, she thumped the bottle down on the table and turned to stare at him. The red in her eyes only made her seem more determined.

She asked him, “Do you really want to know? Because it’s not pretty.”

Chapter Seventeen

Luke didn't know what he had gotten himself into, but he nodded that he wanted to. He hadn’t done it just to comfort her. It was the truth.

If there was more to Ivy Dean than met the eye—and it was clear that was the case—then he did want to know.

“I grew up in the middle of nowhere, Iowa.” She took a breath. And another sip as though that in and of itself, might be enough. It was the only non-shocking thing she'd said so far.

---