She and my stepfather Max got married a couple of years ago. They had met shortly after we moved to Boston when my mother took a job as a waitress at the diner he owns.
When she opened the door, she could tell from the look on my face that I was having a hard time.
“Honey, are you okay?”
I walked past her into the living room. “No, Mom. I’m not.” I sat down on the couch with my face in my hands. I was distraught but felt better already just being in my mother’s house.
She sat down next to me holding a cup of Chai tea. The licorice aroma wafted in the air. “Did you just come from Ivy’s?”
I nodded and exhaled into the palms of my hands, too exhausted to talk. Even in my silence, my mother knew everything; she always did.
She put down her teacup. “You still haven’t told her.”
I looked up, pursed my lips together and shook my head.
With her long dark hair and green eyes, my mother looked like an older version of my sister. Their resemblance was uncanny. I was lucky to have two strong women in my family that I could turn to. She put her hands on my shoulders and sighed.
“Jake, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, more so early on, between the drugs and getting pregnant as a teenager. When I met your father, I was just starting to straighten out, but there were things about my past I needed to tell him and I dreaded it. Each day, I would put it off. The constant worrying about what his reaction would be nearly killed me. But you know what? All of that worrying never changed anything. When I finally got it off my chest, I was free. It’s not going to hurt her any less or more if you wait. You’re the one breaking down, son. You need to get this over with for your own sanity. I could not be more proud of you. After your father died, you became the man of the house. You took care of yourself, so I could take care of us. You never stopped wanting to take care of people. I know you feel like you failed Ivy. But she was so lucky to have been blessed with you in her life because not many men your age would have stuck around. I know you’ll always look out for her. But it’s time for you to start living again.”
It was exactly what I needed to hear from the one person I needed to hear it from.
***
The next day, Ivy was making a sandwich in the kitchen when I walked into the group home. A few of the other women who lived there were sitting on the opposite end of the room along with the house monitor.
“You’re back?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m here all week.”
“Do you want one?” she asked pointing to the bread.
“Sure.”
My heart pounded, and my stomach was upset because I knew this was no ordinary lunch date.
We sat along the counter together eating the turkey sandwiches she made.
When we were done cleaning up, I asked her to come sit with me in the yard. There was a patio out back and that was the best place to have the talk.
Ivy was more coherent than I had seen in a long time and I was grateful that I had chosen today.
“What’s going on?”
“I need to talk to you about something important.”
“Okay.”
“Come sit,” I said gesturing for her to join me on a bench swing. I grabbed her hand. She was looking in my eyes and waiting patiently for me to start talking. I was amazed to have this kind of attention from her and knew it was now or ever.
Here goes nothing.
I breathed out slowly. “I’ll never forget the day we met when you were dancing in the rain outside Northeastern. Do you remember that?”
She nodded. “Of course, I do.”
“Something deep inside told me to go up to you. Whatever it was, if I could go back in time, I would have still walked toward you that day. You were captivating, and I was an 18-year-old boy, smitten for the first time. We were infatuated with each other back then. We rushed things.”
“I was crazy about you,” she said.
“We should have never run away and gotten married that young. But the man upstairs had a different plan because he knew you were going to need me someday. I am glad he chose me to look out for you. I just wish I could make you feel better, make you healthy again. Most of all, I wish I could fight all of your demons for you. I would fucking slaughter them all if I could.
She started to cry and whispered, “I know you would.”
“It’s been hard watching you slip further into your own mind over the years. Some days, I really miss the girl I used to know…the one who played the guitar for me at night as I sat next to her drawing in my sketchbook and the one who always lit up the room with her smile. It hurts when you don’t acknowledge me now most of the time or worse, when you believe I am trying harm you. When you are having an “on” day, like today, I see glimpses of your old expressions, your sense of humor and the connection we once had. I know that the sweet funny girl who loved life is still in there, and I miss her sometimes.”