Page 79 of Moonlight & Matrimony
“Hey Ry! Having fun?”
“So much fun! Misty is the bestest.” She pats the pony on the neck as Griffin guides them around the pen. Things have been quiet for the last week, but we got a call from the investigators this morning and I rushed out the door for a meeting before I could even say goodbye to my girls.My girls. Fuck.
Before I can spiral further, Evie’s voice startles me out of my thoughts. “Any news?”
“Confirmed arson. They’re processing some evidence from the scene. Whoever it was tossed a molotov cocktail over the fence, but the cameras don’t reach that far. It wouldn’t have been nearly as bad had I not been storing paints and stains in there.”
“You can’t blame yourself for any of it,” she says, a little of her intuition kicking in. She’s right — I’ve had to remind myself of that several times, but I can’t help the thoughts that consumeme lately. It could've been so much worse. “Are they looking into Austin?”
“Yeah. But I don’t want to tell Ivy yet.” I keep my gaze fixed on Rylin as she takes another lap around the pen.
“She’s not stupid, Luca. She’ll put two and two together all on her own.”
“I guess you’re right,” I concede. “We have the all clear to move back home tomorrow.” I scrub a hand over my face, feeling the stress of this morning’s conversation wash over me. This past week has been a much needed reprieve; having Ivy and Rylin safely tucked away in the guest cabin eases something in me. The thought that we’d be quite literally putting them back into the line of fire has me feeling on edge.
“You don’t have to go,” Evie says, squeezing my arm. “It’s not a hardship to have y’all here.”
“We can’t let fear dictate how we live.” Ivy’s voice surprises me. I didn’t even see her approaching, and I wonder how much she heard. “We have to get back to our lives. As much as I’ve loved this little vacation, we can’t stay forever.” Her voice is solemn but determined.
“Alright. Can’t say I won’t miss having y'all around. Even this big ol’ grump,” Evie jokes, nudging me with her elbow. “One last family dinner at the big house tonight. No exceptions.”
Being around a close knit family is humbling, to say the least. Growing up, the Robertses could be described as dysfunctional at best. True, there were some good years when we were younger, but it was nothing like this love out loud, steadfast kindof connection. I’m grateful to have been welcomed into the fold, if only for a short time. Not only do Evelyn and Russell have this rare, unbreakable bond, but they’ve extended that same affection to their children, leaving no doubt that this home had been a happy one to grow up in, free of the anger and resentment that filled some of my earliest memories.
Family dinner is chaotic, with everyone talking over each other in excitement, sharing stories, and competing for the spotlight. Rylin, more than anyone, could hold the entire table enraptured with her tall tales about the animals, somehow giving them each their own personalities and backstories. To no one's surprise, she has a particular fondness for the barn cats.
“Oreo is the cutest! She has white paws that look like socks.”
Ivy watches her daughter talk animatedly to everyone around the table, smiling with a new lightness I haven’t seen until now. Time away from the epicenter of Oak Ridge seems to have worked wonders for her tormented soul. Ivy hasn’t had any nightmares since we moved out here, and a sort of calm has settled over her features the more time we spend at the ranch. I make a mental note to bring her out here more often, if only to see her so content and at peace.
A sudden knock sounds at the front door and Evie excuses herself to answer it, a heavy silence falling over the table. It seems I’m not the only one on edge, wondering if this is the moment when the other shoe drops.
“Ivy Jo. Someone needs to speak to you,” Evie says, a hint of worry lining her eyes.
“Ok,” she says, rising from her seat at the table. Her knees buckle, so I reach out a hand to steady her.
“I’m coming with you,” I whisper. She opens her mouth to refuse, but I don’t give her a chance as I stalk towards the door, dragging her by the hand.
“Ivy Jo Roberts?”
“That’s me,” she says, her voice awash with a mix of trepidation and confusion.
“You’ve been served,” the woman hands over a manila envelope and doesn’t linger, turning on her heel and quickly striding down the porch steps. Ivy’s body trembles as her eyes become unfocused.
“Breathe for me, sweetheart.”
Evelyn looks at me with panic written on her face as she squeezes Ivy’s hand. “You’re ok honey.”
She doesn’t respond as she collapses into me, her body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. “Evie, can you go back to the table and keep Rylin busy?”
Without a moment's hesitation, she releases Ivy’s hand. Taking a deep breath, she smoothes down her dress before taking off towards the dining room, glancing back one last time. “I’ve got her,” I tell her, hoping to ease some of the worry that’s etched on her features. “Ivy. Breathe in and count to four.” She does as instructed, clinging to me for support. “Good. Now hold for four, and then we’ll do it again.” I talk her through several more breaths, each one a little steadier than the last, until I feel her body start to relax in my arms.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her hazel eyes now dull, almost lifeless. “I don’t know why I panicked.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Ivy. It’s a natural reaction.” She nods, holding up the manila envelope to me.
“Can you open it? I don’t think I can do it on my own.” I pull her into my chest and kiss her temple. Plucking the envelope from her hand, I feel her stiffen against me.
At first, it looks like a bunch of legal jargon until I get to the second page and read “MOTION FOR CONTEMPT OF COURT” in big, bold lettering.
