Page 15 of Salvation
Another knock, and I make the decision, dropping my hands from my clothes and walking to the door to answer it just the way I am.
Swinging open the door, I find Della Rae standing on the other side with a plate full of cookies. Campbell’s mom is the nicest person I’ve ever met, but I always resented her a little after I left. I thought she would be the one person who would make her son do the right thing, but one look in her eyes, and it’s obvious she didn’t know.
Campbell never told her.
I must have been standing there staring at her for longer than I thought because she smiles and says, “Well, are you going to let an old woman in?”
“Of course,” I say, jumping into action and opening the door wider for her to come in. “Sorry, you caught me by surprise.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to come see me even since I heard you were in town—I figured you had some sortin’ out to do—but when you didn’t show up, I figured I’d better come to you.”
Shame burns my cheeks. The woman in front of me was more like family to me than my own grandparents, but I’d written her off and assumed the worst just because her son had let me down.
“I’m sorry,” I say, letting the sincerity flow into my voice.
“It’s alright, dear. Sometimes we need people to take the first step and come to us,” she says, patting my arm. “Now, how about a cookie?”
A wide grin spreads across my face because cookies with Della Rae never meant just cookies. From that very first time, it always ended with Della Rae imparting her advice to me, and honestly, with the mysterious contents of the manila envelope haunting me, I could use some Della Rae advice right now.
“I would love that. I’ll pour us some milk.”
In the kitchen, she takes a seat at the table, while I grab glasses, pour the milk, and then return it to the refrigerator.
“So,” I say, closing the door with my hip. “How have you been?”
This feels normal—like how things are supposed to be—except it’s not. Mine and Campbell’s secret sits between us, and it feels wrong that she doesn’t know. But at the same time, that secret is filled with trauma and devastation—so maybe it’s better this way.
“I’ve been great, dear. Ali is getting married next year, and Isaiah gave me some grandbabies that keep me busy. I love them to pieces. Now, if only I could get Campbell settled down to give me a few, I’d be set.”
Pain lances through my ribs. I have to remind myself to breathe and suppress the urge to tell her the truth, because itwould only hurt. I’d have to admit that, at one point, she did have another grandchild. For the best five minutes of my life, she had a beautiful granddaughter—and at the end of those five minutes, I’d lost the last piece of me that mattered.
Standing beside the table, I force a wooden smile on my lips.
“I would have thought he would be settled down by now,” I say, handing Della Rae her glass of milk, if for no other reason than to avoid her gaze. “He always seemed like the type to want a family.”
I try to keep the resentment out of my voice, but it bleeds into the edges anyway. When I look back up at Della Rae, there’s no doubt in my mind that she heard it. Setting her milk down on the table, she tilts her head and studies me. I try not to shift under the weight of her stare, but eventually, I break, looking away at something on the other side of the room.
“He did.”
My eyes snap back to her. There’s meaning in the way she’s staring at me, but her view is skewed by the things she doesn’t know. So, I throw her a lifeline.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll find someone soon, and you’ll have all kinds of grandbabies running around.”
The words taste like acid on my tongue because the only person I’d ever imagined Campbell having babies with was me, but I’ve moved on, and he should, too. So I spit them out even though they leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
Della Rae wraps both hands around mine, offering me a comforting squeeze.
“I’m sure you’re right, dear.”
There’s a sparkle in her eye that scares me a little, but I smile back at her anyway. Her hand shifts so that she’s no longer offering comfort but instead, looking at my ring, and when she looks back up at me, tears have replaced that spark.
“I always thought maybe one day you’d marry my son, but even though you’re not, I hope you always know that I think of you like a daughter.”
An ache forms in my throat, and I swallow against the pain. I’m not sure she would feel the same if she knew the truth. I force out a thank you, and Della Rae pats my hand before letting it go. Sitting in the seat beside her, I take one of the cookies she offers me while I try to avoid the fact that she’s still staring at me.
“Are you happy, Ivy?” she asks.
And I don’t meet her gaze when I say, “Yeah, I am happy.”
