Page 17 of The Parent Pick-Up
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere that’s away from you!”
I’m so frustrated, I think about letting her go, but then I remember Ivy hasn’t been hiking these hills since kindergarten like me. She could easily get lost. At the rate she’s moving, she could be swallowed up by the forest before she realizes it.
I rush after Ivy, but when she hears me coming, she speeds up. Crashing through the trees, she veers off the trail, stumbling over roots in her urgency to get away from me. Reaching out, I grab her around the waist right before she takes a tumble. I pull her against my chest, securing her until she finds her footing.
Instead of thanking me from saving her from a painful fall, she shoves me away. But not before I see the tears streaming down her face.
My chest tightens painfully as I watch her cry. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
She scoffs. “It’s nothing.”
As the tears slide down Ivy’s pale cheeks, I can’t help but think of my little girl, crying over piano lessons. My heart breaks for both of them.
“Please. Give me a chance.”
Finally, my pleas get through to Ivy. She pushes away from me but doesn’t run.
“You called me a circus.”
“What?”
“At Open House.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You said I was a circus.”
My brain whirs, trying to piece together the puzzle. “I never said that.”
Ivy balls her fists, and two bright spots color her cheeks. “I heard you plain as day.”
I try to think, but my brain is tangled. “I don’t know what you heard.”
“You were talking to another one of the parents and you said, ‘I don’t need this circus.’” She uses her fingers for air quotes, glaring at me.
Suddenly a light dawns in my memory, and my shoulders relax. “Oh, yeah!”
Her eyes harden. “You remember now.”
“But that’s not fair—”
“You’re right, Owen. It’s not fair. But neither is hearing someone you trusted talk about you like you’re a problem to manage.”
My brain fixates on the part where she said she trusted me. Past tense.
“You didn’t hear the whole conversation,” I say. “I wasn’t actually talking about you.”
“Yeah, right. Is there another ex-pop star mom in your class?”
“No.” I cringe just thinking about the nightmare of having Mrs. Kindle as room momagain. “But I am blessed with the biggest gossip in Starlight Bay as room mom for the second year running.”
Ivy blinks up at me, softening ever so slightly. “What?”
“Mrs. Kindle is insufferable.She’sthe circus.”
“She is?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Ivy gives a snort of a laugh, but instead of her tears drying up, they increase, leaving wet tracks down her cheeks.
