Page 98 of Salvation
One of the things the doctors suggested after Willow completed her program was family therapy. Now, every Thursday at five o’clock, that’s what we do. Sometimes it’s all of us—John, Jackie, Kolton, Willow, Ivy, and me—and sometimes it’s just us—Ivy, Willow, and me. Those are the days I think she lets me in the most.
“If you two are finished,” Dr. Kline, our family therapist interrupts with a bemused smile, “we will get started.”
“Sorry,” Willow mutters.
I dip my head. “Yeah, sorry.”
Dr. Kline leans back in her chair, clearly not fooled. “Mmm-hmm, I’m sure you are. Campbell, since you were late, let’s start with you. You know the drill. Close your eyes and assess your feelings, your real feelings.”
I do as she asks, letting my eyes slide closed and taking stock of the emotions running through my body. I don’t rush it because I’ve learned that sometimes feelings lurk beneath the surface, waiting to send me into a tailspin if I try to work through them too quickly, but not today. Today, there’s only one thing I’m feeling.
Opening my eyes, I meet the doctor’s stare. “Well, what do you feel?”
A smile splits across my face as I drop Dr. Kline’s stare and turn to my daughter and Ivy.
“Happy,” I say to them. “I finally feel happy.”
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Ivy is standing in the middle of a crowd. A hundred people vie for her attention, yet, despite all the chaos, all I see is her. I’m standing on the outskirts, letting her have this moment, but I can’t take my eyes off her.
Today is the unveiling of the mural. Ivy and Willow have put in a lot of work to get it back to what it was before Willow painted over it. Willow has spent every second of her free time, trying to make up for that one mistake, not that she had to. Ivy wasn’t mad at Willow, but I did sit her down and talk about the dangers of what she was doing. She glared at me the whole time, but she listened—and that’s all that matters to .
Once the mural was close enough to completion, Ivy had a tarp put up so no one could see what she and Willow were working on. The whole town has been buzzing with gossip about it, taking their guesses for what the painting will be. Ethel and Muriel seem to be under the impression that it’s a portrait of them.
“You’re being a stalker again. Just go talk to her.”
I jump as Willow walks up beside me. I’d been so caught up in watching Ivy that I didn’t hear her approach. When I recover, I turn my head and glare at the pure satisfaction glimmering in her eyes.
“It’s not stalking when you are dating,” I argue.
Willow gives me a look of pity and pats my arm. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself, Dad.”
Even though she’s making fun of me, my chest warms every time she calls me dad. After that day at the bridge, she never stopped, even when she was at her angriest, and I cherish it every time.
“Are you two picking at each other again?” Ivy’s voice runs along my skin, and I smile, turning to find her standing onlya few feet away now. Her eyes flick between Willow and me, standing with her arms crossed over her chest and a bemused smile on her mouth.
“We don’t know what you’re talking about. Right, Dad?” Willow says, taking the same stance as Ivy.
Ivy purses her lips, waiting for my answer, and I scratch at the back of my neck. “Well—” Willow elbows me in the rib. “I mean, right. Willow wasn’t bullying me.”
Rolling her eyes, Ivy steps forward and presses up to her toes kissing my cheeks.
“Well as long as she wasn’t bullying you,” she says, amusement coloring her voice. Turning to Willow, her face turns serious. “Lily is waiting on us. Are you ready?”
Willow’s lip slips between her teeth, and even though I know she will never admit it, I can tell she’s nervous. Reaching out, I tug on one of her curls. “It’s going to be great.”
She swats my hand away, pretending to be annoyed, but the anxiety in her eyes doesn’t shine as bright. “Yeah, whatever. I know that.”
She waves me off as she walks away, and I chuckle as she goes. Ivy still stands by my side and when Willow is no longer in view, I grab her waist, pulling her so we are hidden behind a car. Then I press my lips to her, kissing her like I’ve been wanting to do since the moment I laid eyes on her today. She kisses me back, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding me to her, and when she pulls back, there is a smile on her face that lights up my whole world.
“What was that for?” she asks, her words coming out breathless.
I press my lips against hers one more time before giving her an answer. “For good luck. Not that you’ll need it, but Ethel and Muriel might be a little mad if the painting isn’t of them.”
Her head tilts back, and her laughter spills into the sky. I watch, taking in the kind of moment I thought I’d never have again.
“I have to go,” Ivy says, pulling out of my hold, “but I’ll be on the lookout for when they find it isn’t.”
