Page 29 of When Ivy Met Mr. Holiday
Where did all of her discomfort come from? This was a woman who had no problem sending me to the store for tampons or eating ice cream straight out of the carton in front of me.
“You did give me ample warning. I’ve just never been around so much holiday cheer—or a real family.”
Damn, I should have left out that last part.
Ivy popped off my shoulder, a spark of her old self appearing. Even in the glow of the Christmas lights dimly illuminating the room, it was easy to see how her eyes livened up after my admission.
“Jack, you know you can talk to me about your family.”
I shrugged. “What’s there to say? There’s no changing the past.”
I never wanted to bog Ivy down with the ugly truths. I’d moved beyond them and made something of my life. After seeing her family effortlessly care for those at the retirement community and each other, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that my home life had been nothing like that. Her family even made preparing meals look like fun. Mine, on the other hand, had rarely had money for food. And even when we did, my dad had drunk it away.
“True. But you can always change the future.”
That was what I was trying to do by going to Aspen Lake with her. I knew a future with Ivy meant coming to terms with the holidays and my own crushed childhood hopes and dreams. It was something I needed to sort out before I could be with her.
“That’s the plan.” Itapped her nose.
“You’re not going to talk about it, are you?”
I shook my head.
“Fine,” she sighed, clearly not fine.
She should have thanked me. My past was depressing. But what wasn’t depressing was . . .
“So, where were you going to go with your ‘we fell in love while you cut my hair’ story?” I smirked.
She buried her face in her hands and groaned. “Jack, why did you have to bring that up?”
“You said you couldn’t sleep because of all the crazy things you said today, so I’m helping you get it out of your system.”
She dropped her hands, her face pinched. “Oh, so you want me to talk to you, but you won’t talk to me.”
“It’s not like that,” I assured her. “Believe me, I’m doing you a favor by keeping my mouth shut.”
She tilted her head and studied me. “You know I don’t see it that way.”
I did know that, and I loved her for it. But I wanted to protect her.
“So, how did we fall in love while you cut my hair?”
Truth be told, Ihadfallen in love with her while she cut my hair. I could remember it like it was yesterday, that first day we met, gazing at her in the mirror while she fixed the orange mess. There’d just been something about her. I’d known from that moment that I wanted her in my life.
She fell back and landed on my pillow.
This was good. I took the opportunity and lay next to her, wrapping my arms around her, as friendly as possible, tryingnot to scare her off, all while wishing I could draw her closer to me and remove anything between us.
“I don’t know what I was going to say.” She laughed into my chest. “What was your story going to be?”
“I was going to tell them you were overcome by passion one night and said you couldn’t keep your burning desire for me inside any longer. And that I was right all along about men and women not being able to be friends. Then you attacked me on my couch.” I laughed.
She lifted her head, eyes narrowed, scowling.
“What?” I smirked. “You don’t like that version?”
“If you told that story, I would have definitely had to wear the Grinch hat of shame.”
