Mr. Abney waited for his wife to take a step past him before turning and following her out of the room. “How did you see the bottle?” he asked her as their voices carried in the hallway.
“A mother knows,” Mrs. Abney returned. “Plus, I saw it in his hand when I met them in the room.”
Their voices continued off into the distance.
I remained in the second spare bedroom for a while, hoping to avoid the people in Julianna’s home and to figure out how I’d be able to see Ivy again before she leaves Blackburn all over again. It pained me to think that she’d be leaving and possibly soon.
After a bit, I eventually left the upstairs in search of food. It took me close to an hour to get to the kitchen because so many people wanted to talk to me. Most of the folks in this town would never bother to talk to me this much prior to Julianna and I getting married. Even once we did, they talked to her most of the time since she was the pure breed. I did my best to bite my tongue, to not yell at them and tell them to get the fuck out of her house. It’s always been her house, not mine.
For as kind as they’re being now, most of them, especially the older pure breeds, would talk about her behind her back for marrying me. I know the things they said when the subject of children came up. They’d say that her kids’ blood would be tainted because of me.
My mother must have seen the irritation on my face. She interrupted someone who was talking to me who wouldn’t shut up. Mom was able to get me to the kitchen within just a few seconds. I grabbed a plate and started piling things on it, at least two or three helpings worth. I saw Grady and he confirmed that Ivy will be staying for at least two weeks. I’ve got two weeks to win her back.
Then, I grabbed a six pack of beer and made my way out to the barn. I kept my head down as I passed people who were on the back porch, not wanting to acknowledge them.
“Get out,” I said the second I got inside the barn and found to two teenagers who were making out.
They didn’t hesitate and rushed past me.
I locked myself in and have stayed here ever since.
“I’m fine, mom,” I say, answering the phone.
“Where are you?” she inquires nervously.
“I’m in the barn…have been since I last saw you,” I share, knowing that she’ll push until I explain.
“You’ve been in there for five hours?” she exclaims loudly. “Henry, you have guests who you should be….”
“Julianna and her parents have guests,” I defend. “They’re not there for me. They’re there for themselves and for the Summerlin family.”
Mom doesn’t argue, knowing that I’m right. “Can I at least say goodbye to my own son for the evening at least?”
“How many people are still at the house?” I check.
“Just a few,” she returns.
“You and dad can come, I’ll open the door, but no one else, got it?” I say.
“Okay,” she confirms.
“I don’t like you living out here,” Mom states as she, dad, and Davis walk past me into the barn.
“I do,” I return.
“It’s fitting,” Davis comments.
“You have a house, Henry,” Mom sighs.
“That was never my house, you know that,” I remind.
“Julianna did her best to make you feel at home,” Mom defends.
“I know,” I reply. “But, it was still all for show to cover what was really going on.”
“Many marriages are rocky,” Mom claims.
Dad offers me a sympathetic expression, not daring to debate with mom.
“You and Dad…and the Abneys, are a select few in this town,” I remark.
“Did you at least thank them for coming?” Mom pries.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “I saw Grady and his parents.” I purposefully leave out the fact that I saw Ivy, not wanting to bring up old wounds.
“I heard Ivy was here,” Mom says, peering around my living area of the barn.
Davis’ face beams with excitement. I flash him a warning and he chuckles to himself.
“This is no place for you to live, sweetie,” Mom claims.
“I wouldn’t know,” I lie, focusing on mom’s first statement. “I didn’t see her.”
“That’s not what Bobby Joe’s mom told Esther, who told the twins, who told your grandmother,” Mom calls out. “They said that Mrs. Abney caught you two up on the roof together.”
“So?” I reply, not willing to confirm or deny anything.
Mom glowers at me. “I heard that there was a bottle of tequila involved,” she adds.
“Whiskey,” I confirm.
“Nice,” Davis cheers which irritates mom.
“So, she was with you,” Mom speculates. “What were you two doing?”
“I said that it was a bottle of whiskey…I didn’t say that Ivy was with me,” I defend.
“Leave the boy alone,” dad speaks up finally. “He’s a widower. And, he’s allowed to talk to beautiful women if he wants to. He’s not married anymore.”
My mother eyes my father with a challenge.
“We should be going, dear,” Dad suggests. “I’m sure the boy is tired. He needs some sleep.”
“I don’t know how you sleep at all here,” Mom retorts.
“I sleep just fine,” I announce.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Henry,” Mom snaps, obviously tired from the day.
“Ida, let the boy be…he’s dealt with enough the past few weeks,” dad defends. “You can see he’s living better than most. He’s got running water, a shower, toilet, and even a mini fridge in here.”
“Stocked with booze,” Mom quips.
“I’ll grab one for the road,” Davis states lowly, walking toward it.
“Every man needs a mini fridge stocked with booze from time to time,” Dad explains.
Mom glowers at dad a little, but doesn’t comment. She looks to me. “You’ll call if you need anything, right?” she checks.
“Of course,” I confirm.
Mom nods, hugs me, and kisses my cheek before leaving the barn without another word. Dad looks at me, shrugs his shoulders, and gives me a silent hug before chasing after mom.
“I didn’t see her,” Davis says. “How’s she looking?”
I feel a smile pop onto my face.
“That good?” Davis pries.
“Better,” I inform.
“Did you fuck her yet?” Davis asks with a wild grin.
I do my best to curb my smile, but Davis knows the expression on my face. The one that says if I didn’t, I will soon.
“You know where to find me,” Davis says, heading to the door. “I want all the details.”
“When have I ever given you details with Ivy?” I check.
Davis pauses and lifts his fresh beer to his mouth. “I still want them.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re going to get them,” I goad.
“But you’re gonna make sure she gets it,” he states, disappearing around the bend.
I prop myself in the crack of the sliding door, watching my family leave while wrangling up the few stragglers. I take a long pull on the beer Davis handed me when he got himself one and watch as the car headlights vanish in the distance just like the setting sun already has. When it’s just me and the barn, I head back inside, needing to carve again.
As I fall into the groove with the wood, my body begins to heat up and I’m left with just jeans and boots on. The wood chips fly, landing on my arms when I use the chainsaw. Larger curls of it gather at my feet when I change tools.
I take a step back, admiring the beginnings of my latest creation. Grabbing a celebratory beer and chugging it down with only a few gulps, I contemplate if I want to keep working through the night. I take a stroll through the back corner where I keep all of the other carvings I’ve done the past year and a half, yanking off the tarp that is covering most of them. The sight of my muse invigorates me, requesting that I keep working.
7 Ivy
&
nbsp; “You okay, Sweetpea?” Momma asks as I enter the dark living room. “I’m sorry I yelled. I shouldn’t have done that. I….”
“I’m fine, Momma,” I reply, joining her on the couch. My body plops down as if I’ve just run a marathon. “Where’s Papa?”
“He’s in bed,” she replies. “I told him and Grady that I’d stay up and wait for you. You hungry?”
“A little,” I admit sheepishly.
Mom gets up from the couch quickly, making her way into the kitchen that is just beyond the living room. She starts taking out leftovers from the fridge without a second thought.
“I’m sorry, Momma,” I say, taking a seat at the island. “I wasn’t thinking…I should have been, though. You’re right. It was stupid.”
Momma pauses for a second and nods, accepting my apology. “The past is in the past,” she says as she always does when she wants to move on. “How is my grandbaby doing?”
“He’s good,” I reply with a smile, picking at the edges of the placemat. “He doesn’t really seem to miss me.”
“I’m sure he does,” Momma corrects. “You’re his mother. He just knows he’s in good hands with Cece.”
My head bobs, knowing that my best friend can handle my rambunctious, two and a half-year-old.
“Have you given any thought about having her bring him down here?” Momma inquires carefully.
“No,” I admit. “But, I know I’ll need to. This is the longest we’ve been apart. I know that it’ll get to both of them soon.”
“Did you and Henry get a chance to talk before I interrupted?” Mom searches.
“No,” I sigh. “I’m doubting that me being here is a good thing.”
“You being here, home with your family is always a good thing,” Momma chides sweetly.
“You know what I mean,” I reply, taking the fork she offers and then the first bite of Momma’s famous blueberry pie a la mode while she heats up chili on the stove.
“He could be your family too,” Mom pushes. “He’s a free man now.”
“Momma,” I whine. “She just died a week ago. I hardly doubt the man has grieved for his wife.”
“He’s grieved enough,” Momma states.
“Momma,” I scold. “Don’t be heartless.”
“He cared for that woman, but most certainly did not love her the way that he still loves you,” she proclaims.
My cheeks burn. “He doesn’t still love me,” I counter, taking another bite of pie.
“He sure as hell does,” Momma defends. “I saw it in his eyes when I found you two on the roof.”
I shake my head as my mouth remains too full to speak.
“Yes, he does,” Momma repeats. “You two will need some time to re-establish your relationship, but he and you will finally have your chance.”
“He won’t like finding out that I have a son,” I state nervously.
“No more than you finding out that he chose her over you,” Momma presents.
I swallow my last bite of pie that feels loaded with a lead brick. The last night I saw him was all I needed to know that he still loved me until he never bothered to come for me—to fight for us.
“I’m sorry, Sweetpea,” Momma says, covering my hand with hers. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“I know, Momma,” I reply with a forced smile. “I know.”
“You two just need to talk…reveal your feelings…and any and all secrets,” she advises, pausing for a second when our eyes meet. “Both of you.”
“Henry doesn’t have secrets, Momma,” I remind. “I do.”
“Well, that boy has a lot to prove if he’s going to have my blessing to marry you,” Momma declares.
“I don’t think another marriage is anywhere in Henry’s mind,” I reply.
“You never know,” Momma debates. “A man who has lost a lot changes pretty quickly.”
“Even if there is a chance for us, he won’t forgive me,” I remind. “He’ll be blinded by the memories for a while but then eventually I’ll have to tell him the truth.”
“You did what you had to do,” she justifies. “There was no right answer…only a less painful one for you to endure.” She scoops out three large helpings of chili into a bowl and pushes it toward me.
“Thanks, Momma,” I say before taking the first bite.
“Too hot?” she checks.
“Just right,” I confirm with a smile.
“You gonna try to see him tonight?” she pries.
“Don’t know,” I return, chewing the rest of my mouthful.
Momma nods but doesn’t comment. She walks over to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and then kisses the top of my head. “Goodnight, Sweetpea,” she bids.
“Night, Momma,” I reply as she walks out of the kitchen.
I slowly eat the rest of the chili Momma gave me, enjoying every savory bite while also trying to decide on what to do and how to do it all. I need to be smart about this whole situation. I can’t expect anything and I need to respect Henry and those who are immediately involved. I know it’s just a matter of time when my secret is revealed. I just hope that I’m the one telling Henry first to lessen the blow.
When I’m done eating, I clean up the kitchen and then quietly make my way up to my old bedroom. A small chuckle emanates from my heart when the door opens to reveal that Momma hasn’t changed a thing since I last left. I didn’t notice it this morning when I quickly got ready for today’s events.
I get out of my clothes, wrap my robe over me and jump into the shower that is across the hall from my room. I let the hot water soothe my tense muscles until my fingers and toes become pruny.
With just a tank top and shorts on, I climb into bed after I turn on the fan. Our house was retrofitted with air conditioning years ago, but I’ve never really liked using it. Most of my life we only had fans and water to keep us cool in the spring and summer. Dad splurged on getting the old house updated since Nana and Pops moved in just before I left for college. Pops had a bad fall, which messed up his hip and it wasn’t easy for Nana to take care of him.
Momma’s and Papa’s finances were always good, especially since dad has practically run the town bank since I entered high school. When Nana and Pops moved in, Momma turned their home into a bed and breakfast that has been doing great each year, especially when it’s tourist season.
As I lie in bed, staring up at my ceiling since I’m unable to fall asleep, I replay what happened between Henry and me in my head over and over again. Comparisons of my memory and momma’s comments cause me to pray to God that I’m not imagining things.
My mind begins to drift back further when I recount the electric touch between Henry and me earlier. That touch made me feel the same way the first time Henry kissed me and even more so the first night Henry and I had sex. We were seventeen and I think he was more nervous than I was.
Momma knew something was different between Henry and me the day he first kissed me at the park. It’s like she saw it written all over my face when I came home. It didn’t take long for her to pry it out of me. She turned on my radio, loud enough for our voice to not be overheard through the walls and locked my bedroom door. She swore that she would not discuss anything with my father unless I said she could tell him. I adamantly reminded her several times that what we were talking about did not leave my room. I felt uncomfortable enough discussing the kiss with my mother, so there was no way I could imagine Papa finding out that Henry Lee Rein put his lips on mine.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Henry and I started sneaking more kisses when we could. At first, I didn’t know if I had dreamt it all, but the very next day, just after dinner, when we were playing capture the flag with a bunch of the younger kids in town, that’s when Henry pulled me behind one of the big trees and kissed me again. I’m sure we were there for at least a half hour by the way the kids were running all around us. Each time we heard their footsteps in the dark, Henry held me closer and we didn’t move or make a noise. No
one found us, and eventually, we had to carefully leave separately to not be discovered.
In time, both Henry’s parents and mine knew that we were kind of dating. Henry and I never labeled it, but the way we hung out changed. We stopped spending time with most of the other kids, wanting to be alone. Grady always used to bother us; that’s what siblings do. Davis was a little cold to me when he found out about Henry and me, but he seemed to move on once Julianna and some of the other girls in town gave him more attention.
About three months into Henry’s and my first kiss, my Momma said that we were dating. I shrugged my shoulders and never gave it another thought until the big end of summer fair was happening. Henry asked if I’d go with him, alone, and I said yes. It was the first time we had ever openly said we were going together and didn’t want anyone tagging along.
At the fair, people we knew kept looking at us. We did our best to stay away from our families, and at some point, managed to find a less lit corner to be alone. We made out every chance we got and sometimes it got hotter than I expected. I didn’t mind at all, but Henry got nervous a few times.
A few weeks later, Momma said we were going to have a girls weekend, just the two of us, in Atlanta. I was excited because it had been a while since our last girls weekend and I thought we were going to get a head start on school shopping.
Anytime Momma and I had a few days without Papa and Grady, it was freeing and fun. We’d never talk to anyone about the things that we did. Momma would take me to see shows, get dolled up like women do, and a few times we’d even get massages.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we walked down a creepy alleyway.
“You’ll see, Sweetpea,” Momma said with a giddy smile.
We stopped in front of an unmarked door and Momma took out her phone. “We’re here,” she announced to some unknown person on the other end.
Five seconds later, the door opened, scaring me. An older woman with pink on the tips of her hair lets us in. The hall was dark until we hit a larger area with many items on display. There wasn’t another person in the shop than the three of us, and I suddenly felt nervous, confused, and concerned.
“Momma?” I asked hesitantly.
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