Page 8 of Sliding Into Love
Breathe.
And then it was over, Nayomi saying she’d check back in soon, smiling as she rose from the table. Jase squeezed Ivy in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it hug, then scampered out of the kitchen, as if moving faster than the speed of light would keep Nayomi from changing her mind. Even though Ivy had reassured both Jase and herself before the meeting, his relief was palpable, though Ivy tried to keep a lid on hers, at least until the other woman left.
“So, are you okay?” Nayomi hitched her purse higher on her shoulder as she walked toward the door but paused on the faded rainbow rug Ivy had found abandoned in the stairwell.
“Me?” Ivy’s voice came out in a squeak at the unexpected concern. “Derek is back in town, so we get to hang out more. And I see Lily almost every day.” She paused, remembering. “Oh, and I just heard from Central High. They have a teaching position opening up this fall.”
But she didn’t mention that it wasn’t official. Didn’t mention that she knew how bad it looked to be jobless, particularly to the social worker assigned to ensure the wellbeing of her foster kids. Didn’t mention how much the waiting felt too familiar, a longing ache for acceptance and belonging.
Nayomi chuckled softly. “That’s not what I meant. You’re so dedicated to the kids and your friends; I wonder if you’re as dedicated to yourself. Taking care ofyou.”
Ivy bit her lip. “I take care of myself. I always have.” She hadn’t meant for it to sound quite so snappish.
For a few moments, Nayomi considered her. “I just mean…you seem lonely. That’s all.”
“Lonely?” She tried not to think about it. The loneliness. Thewanting. For stability.
For family.
Sure, there were Derek and her upstairs neighbor turned best friend Lillian, and now Jase and Janna. They were the closest she’d probably ever have to a whole family.
Still, the idea of stability, of permanence, hung over her head like a dream just out of reach. Even though the kids were with her long-term, the possibility was there that they’d move on. That they’dchooseto.
And as she’d told Derek, no one would want a chaotic disaster like her.
Why would they?
Breathe. She wouldn’t do that to herself. She didn’t expect to find someone who would want a partner who came with her baggage and two children to boot. And that was okay. She’d be okay.
“Ivy?” Nayomi peered at her, and she realized she’d zoned out.
“Sorry. I’m…okay. Things are different now, but good different, you know? The kids are great.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m glad you’re all doing well, and please let me know if there’s anything you need. I’ll see you on the next visit!”
In another life, if Nayomi hadn’t represented everything Ivy was afraid of, maybe they could have been friends. But Ivy couldn’t find it in her to befriend a person with the potential to take half her life away, no matter how unlikely it was. Besides, memories of social workers in the days before she’d lived with Maya and Derek still colored her opinion of the profession as a whole. To most of them, she’d been just another number on a piece of paper, an inconvenience in their own uncaring, unfeeling, soul-sucking days. If she thought about it, Ivy almost understood where they’d come from. It must have been awful, seeing so many lives uprooted and ruined, that after a while, a certain amount of desensitization would be required.
Still, as a child, their lack of compassion had left a scar that never really healed, and Ivy did her best not to be another statistic, another mark on an endless sheet of them.
And she wouldn’t let herself be a burden to anyone else.
After counting the tickets for the fourth time, Ivy held Janna’s hand while they stood in line with Jase to enter the stadium. Yesterday, one of the tickets fell out of her pocket, but Jase snatched it out of the air before a gust of wind blew it away. This time, Ivy decided to delegate and handed the tickets over to Jase. She leaned down so he could hear her over the din of excited fans.
“Can you hold onto these?”
He nodded solemnly, clutching them tightly to his chest.
“Thanks, buddy! I don’t want to drop them again, and I know they’ll disappear if I put them in my bag.”
He nodded again, and Ivy thought she saw the hint of a smile pass over his lips.
The sensory overload of the stadium assaulted Ivy as they waited in line; the sheer volume of conversations happening around her plagued her ears, and she expected Jase to be on edge, too, but he seemed fine, glancing around excitedly as they waited, bouncing on the balls of his feet and taking in the chaos. To avoid the onslaught as she walked, Ivy tugged her phone out of her bag, thumbing open the email app on muscle memory more than actual intent. As soon as Nayomi left, Ivy scrambled together copies of her pertinent documents and forwarded them to the assistant principal with a little note saying how excited she was to be working with them and how she couldn’t wait to get started. They hadn’t forwarded the paperwork she needed to fill out, but it had only been a few hours. Still, only seeing a lengthy post from a recipe blog left her feeling defeated and empty, and she refreshed the app one more time just to be sure.
Nothing.
It’s fine; budgets take time, she reminded herself for the millionth time as she shoved her phone into her purse, shoving her building anxiety down with it.
After they were seated, the scent of hot dogs and popcorn reached Ivy’s nose, and she couldn’t resist the salty siren call. As they found their seats again, the starting lineup was called, and Jase sat up straighter, training his eyes on the field. Derek’s name echoed through the stadium, and pride for her brother flooded through her as she took in the clean lines of his black and red jersey, and the crispness of his white pants. Jen followed, and Ivy watched in awe as the blonde’s long legs ate up the ground as she jogged to center field.
