Page 34 of Salvation
“If you’ll take a seat,” he says when we reach the room, “I’m going to check to see if my wife needs help with those refreshments. I’ll be right back.”
He disappears back the way we came, leaving Ivy and me alone. She doesn’t look at me, but I didn’t expect her to. We need time to recover from the pieces of ourselves we handed over at the front door. Ivy walks over to the mantle, running her hands along the edge until she gets to a family photo, and I stand back, shoving my hands in my pockets as I watch her.
I can’t see the picture she holds in her hand from where I’m standing, but I can tell Willow is in it from the way her thumb lightly traces over it. She’s staring at it like she can’t believe what she’s looking at. Honestly, I can’t either. It all feels surreal.
I’m still watching Ivy when a throat clears behind me. Ivy startles, nearly dropping the picture, and her cheeks flush red as she catches it and places it gently back on the mantle.
“I was just—ummm—looking,” she says, her cheeks a little brighter than before. John and Jackie walk into the room, taking the two seats opposite the couch.
Awkward silence takes over the room, choking everyone in it, and when nothing else is said, Ivy walks over to the couch and sits down. Her back is ramrod straight, and she crosses her legs at the ankles, ever the picture of the proper lady her grandparents trained her to be.
I hate it. It’s not her. Not the girl I know. That girl was wild and confident, but this one is meek and scared. And it hurts to watch, so I walk over to the couch and join her, if only to avoid the reality of the mess we’ve become.
When I’m settled in, John is the one to break the silence.
“We might as well get to it. What do you want?”
“John,” his wife chides him, but he just shakes his head.
“No, Jackie. It had to be said. They are trying to take our daughter from us, and I won’t let it stand.”
Gone is the stoic man who met us at the front door, and in his place sits a father ready to fight for his daughter.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe we should leave. This man is more than just a father. He’s a dad, and I’m just the man who contributed my DNA.
I have nothing to offer her.
The thought stings, cutting through skin and muscle to the place where all my sadness lies. And sitting here in front of John Bryant, it hits me that I’ve made yet another mistake. Willow has spent sixteen years without me. She doesn’t need me now.
“I—we aren’t trying to take her,” Ivy says, her voice coming out as small as I feel. “We just want to know her. We want to be a part of her life. Right, Campbell?”
She looks at me, waiting for me to speak up—to come to her rescue in this—but I can’t seem to make my tongue move. It’s glued to the roof of my mouth. Panic shines back at me in her eyes, but I still can’t make it come unstuck. The same disappointment that filled her eyes the day she told me she was pregnant floods them now, but it’s not just disappointment this time. There’s a little bit of hatred, too, and I don’t blame her. She turns away, but not before I memorize the look on her face as I let her down again. It will haunt me for the rest of my life.
“Please,” she begs, “Just let us get to know her.”
John’s face remains firm, but she’s not looking at him. She’s pleading to Jackie—a mother—begging her to see her.
“I—I—” Jackie starts, tears filling her eyes. She stares at Ivy for one second, and then she looks away. And I already know what her answer will be. “I’m sorry.”
Her voice can hardly be heard, but there’s finality in her answer that lands between us with a thud.
John stands as soon as the words are out of his wife’s mouth. “I think it’d be best if you left, but before you do, know this—I will fight you tooth and nail. Willow ismydaughter.Wewoke upwith her every night.Wetook care of every fever and cold.Wehave been there for her. I don’t know why you gave her up—nor do I care. But you won’t come in here now pretending to be the parents you should have been sixteen years ago.”
Shame burns my cheeks because nothing he said is wrong, but it’s not true either. I would have been there. If I had known, I would have been there. But I didn’t, and I wasn’t. So, I sit back and watch him storm out of the room, letting him believe he knows my story.
Once he’s gone, Jackie speaks up again. Her voice sounds loud against the silent room, even though it’s barely above a whisper.
“I’ll show you out.”
Woodenly, Ivy and I stand. Jackie begins to walk, and Ivy follows, her shoulders pulled back like she isn’t falling apart on the inside.
My world dims by another shade, and I wonder how long it will be before it’s pitch black.
When we reach the door, Ivy smiles politely at Jackie. “Thank you for having us.”
I grind my teeth together. I want to shake her—to tell her to stop being so polite for once in her life—but I don’t have the energy. It’s seeped from my veins, poured out at my feet, and there’s barely enough to remind myself to keep breathing.
Ivy starts to walk out the door, but before she can, Jackie grabs her arm. “We haven’t made this decision lightly. It’s just, Willow, she’s—sensitive. The first time she realized she was adopted, she—” Jackie stops, shaking her head as a sad look crosses over her face. “It nearly destroyed her. It took a long time to build her back up, and it’s our job to protect her. That’s all we are doing—protecting her.”
