Page 82 of Salvation
“Uh—yeah. That’s exactly what we were doing. Working on the mural. I wanted to show Cam what I’ve been doing, and I noticed some spots I missed the last time Ivy had me working on the base. Since Ivy had me take the paint so I could work on it anytime I wanted, I went ahead and touched it up. Isn’t that right, Cam?” Her eyes slant toward her boyfriend, as if trying to convey a message.
“Yeah,” he says smoothly. “That’s what it was. The mural.”
I look at Hayes, doing the silent conversation thing again to ask his take on the situation, but he only shrugs, leaving me to form my own opinion. I know what he’s doing. Willow is my daughter, and if she were responsible for the graffiti down the street, it would ruin any steps we’ve taken to get to know each other. He’s giving me an out, letting me make my own decision.
Chewing on the inside corner of my lip, I try to decide whether I believe her. Sometimes, major depressive disorder can lead to making bad decisions just to feel something, and if Willow is experiencing a low right now, the graffiti might have been a way to do just that. But as she stares at me down, waiting for me to make my decision about her, I choose to believe what she’s saying, even though there is a little warning in my gut saying I might be wrong.
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Walking up the sidewalk to Ivy’s house, the sun is warm on my face.
Today is the day that Willow meets my parents, and just like everything my mother does, she has gone all out, turning it into a party. She’d ask that I run it by Willow, wanting to make sure it wouldn’t make her uncomfortable before she started planning, but once Willow gave the okay, Della Rae Richards went full steam ahead. Nothing would have stopped her from making this perfect, even if I did have to reel her in a couple of times to prevent her from inviting the whole town. Willow and her parents will be here soon, and I was sent to collect Ivy.
I didn’t have to be told twice—or at all, really. I’d always planned on showing up at her doorstep so I could have the privilege of walking her the few feet over to my parents’ home, but I did not prepare myself for the sight of her opening the door and stepping into my view.
The sun’s rays bounce off her curls, turning them golden, and there’s a shyness about her smile that sparks hope in mychest. She’s dressed casually, wearing jeans and a hoodie, but she might as well be wearing a wedding dress for all my heart cares because she’s never looked more beautiful to me. It makes me feel like a teenage boy again, waiting for a kiss from the girl I love.
“You didn’t have to come over here, Campbell. I’ve walked to your house plenty of times before.”
I wait to answer her, taking her hand and helping guide her down the steps to stand in front of me. Then I wrap my arms around her, breathing her in. She sighs into me, laying her head on my chest, and I revel in the feeling of holding my whole life in my arms.
“It’s not my house anymore, sunshine. I grew up and got one of those on my own.”
I can feel her rolling her eyes against my chest, and I bite back a smile, pressing a kiss against the top of her head. She pulls back to look up at me, letting me see my favorite color of honey. “I think I’d like to see it some day—see what you’ve done for yourself.”
I try not to let her feel me stiffen. “Yeah—” I say a little weaker than I intended. Clearing my throat, I smile and try again. “Yeah, that would be great.”
And it would be usually, but it’s been a while since I’ve kept up with my house. I don’t live in filth, but when things were at their darkest, I also did the bare minimum. Now that there is light back in my life, I’m starting to see all the places I have neglected.
Ivy’s brows screw together, but I don’t let her question get out. I tug on her hand, pulling her along with a grin on my face. “Come on, sunshine. You know how my mom feels about us being late.”
We heard that particular lecture a thousand times growing up, after we would show up late because we lost track of timebeneath the willow tree. The lesson never stuck, though. We were always late again the next time for the very same reason.
Ivy’s head falls back with her laughter, spilling her joy into the sky. I trip over my feet as I memorize the sound, holding onto it in case my days become dark again.
We reach the edge of my parents’ yard just as the Bryants’ car pulls up to the curb. They won’t be able to see us from where we stand, but we can see them. Ivy stops, and I stop with her, standing by her side as she stares while they pile out of the car.
“It’s all very convenient for them. Isn’t it?” Ivy asks.
I look to where she is staring, finding John slipping his arm around Willow’s shoulder and plopping a kiss on Jackie’s lips, all while Kolton pretends to gag. There is an ease between the whole family that scalds against my skin even though I know it shouldn’t.
“Yeah,” I agree soberly. “It is.”
Ivy’s eyes turn to mine, shining with the same burn I feel. “Do you think it will ever be like that for us with her? Easy, like it should have been?”
“I don’t think parenting is supposed to be easy, sunshine—at least not according to my parents.”
Some of the hurt melts from her eyes, and she smiles, slapping my stomach with the back of her hand. “That’s because they parented you.”
Chuckling, I slip my arm around her shoulders and lead her on, knowing I was the least of my parents’ problems.
We reach the Bryants just in time to see my mother fly out the door with her hand covering her mouth and tears in her eyes, my dad ambling behind her at his usual slow, leisurely pace.
“I’m sorry in advance,” I warn Willow, who is eyeing the deranged lady racing toward her like she’s tempted to run. Before she can, though, my mom reaches her and wraps her in ahug, crushing her to her chest until I’m afraid she might not be able to breathe.
“Della Rae,” my dad chides in a voice that is deeper than normal. “Let the girl go.”
My mom huffs but complies, and my dad steps forward, taking her spot. He doesn’t hug her like my mom, and I hold my breath as the older man and younger girl size each other up. A few tense seconds pass in which I wonder which one will break first, never thinking it will be my dad, but finding myself surprised when it is.
