“You mean he actually talked to Ivy?” I inquire hesitantly, my curiosity aroused.
“He was so mad at his brother that he went over there last night and peered through the windows. He said he saw Ivy sitting with Tim, their heads bent over some book. But then she got mad about something and started telling him off. Ben was afraid she’d see him standing on the porch, so he took off,” Will recounts in a rush.
“Wait a minute. She was screaming at Tim?” I question, panicked.
“Yeah, man. That’s what I’m trying to get through to you. She’s not happy there. She doesn’t want to be there. But where the hell is she supposed to go? She thinks you’ll make her give up the baby if she comes back here.” Will looks at me disapprovingly, and I know he’s right. I deserve every bit of his condemnation for driving her away.
“I’m not going to make her do that,” I say vehemently. “I was wrong to make her choose.”
“Well, hallelujah. You’ve finally seen the light,” Will mocks me, rolling his eyes.
“But I never thought Tim would be making her this upset. She’s not supposed to be getting all worked up like that. I thought arguing with me would make her worse. That’s why somewhere in the back of my mind I figured she’d be better off with Tim. He’s usually so easygoing. He gets along with everybody. I’m the one who’s always bumping heads with everyone around me.”
I remove my hat and crumple it in my hands. I feel so lost. Every decision I make seems to blow up in my face. I only want what’s best for Ivy, but all I keep doing is putting her in harm’s way. I was willing to stay away from her if that’s what she wanted, if that’s what was best for her. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe she needs me after all.
“Tell Ben to drag his ass over here. Now!” I yell, turning my back.
Will immediately takes off through the trees. The incessant dragging noise stops before I hear the shuffling of pine needles as Will tugs Ben forward by the sleeve of his coat, a hopeful expression on both of their faces.
“You needed me, man?” Ben asks, out of breath.
“Yeah. Would you give me a lift over to your brother’s place?” I stare blankly at the horizon and the mountains fencing us in.
“Sure. I’d be glad to,” Ben responds as Will pounds him on the back, eager to get the rescue mission started.
“Because I don’t think I’m going to be in any condition to drive after I do what I have to do.” I raise an eyebrow at Ben, and Will squints at me in confusion. “Are you gonna be okay with that?”
“Whatever it takes,” Ben replies stoically, holding out his hand.
“Jesus Christ,” Will mutters under his breath.
“Whatever it takes,” I second, firmly grasping Ben’s hand as he looks me in the eye, giving a quick nod of consent.
You mess with Ivy. You mess with me.
Tim’s going to wish he never laid eyes on her by the time I get done with him.
It’s on, old friend. It is so on.
Chapter Nine
Ivy
I’m pregnant. I’m hungry. And damn it, I’m going to eat.
I rub the sleep out of my eyes, determined not to let last night’s spat with Tim keep me out of his kitchen. I’m still in my pajamas even though it’s almost noon. I’m not going to avoid him any longer. Enough is enough. I’m the one eating for two, not him.
“Done sulking?” he asks, not even looking up from the pile of bills stacked in front of him as I traipse in.
“Not quite,” I respond, opening the refrigerator door. “Not until you stop lying to me, anyway.”
“I’m not lying to you,” he says angrily, slamming his fist.
I jump at the noise, losing my grip on the carton of orange juice as it spills all over the floor, soaking the bottom of my robe.
“Shit! See what you made me do?” I glare at him, sopping wet.
“I didn’t do anything. You are the one who dropped it.” Tim pushes himself away from the table, striding over to the counter to grab a roll of paper towels.
My feet feel all sticky as I move out of the way when he bends down to mop up the mess. Without even thinking, I remove my robe and fling it over the back of one of the chairs, getting down on my hands and knees to help him. Stubbornly, he ignores me. So I work around him, picking up the saturated clumps he leaves behind. Awkwardly, I tiptoe over to the sink, wringing out the soggy remains before tossing them in the trash.
“You know I just got done cleaning in here, right?” he grumbles, getting to his feet. “You don’t have to be so—” But he freezes when he turns around, his eyes darting straight to my chest.