Chapter 36
Anna
Ivy’s face lights up at the same moment that Travis rolls his eyes.
“Oh, I have so many baby pictures,” she says excitedly. “Here, I’ll show you.”
She grabs my hand and leads me into the living room.
“Travis, bring the tea and dessert out, will you?”
We sit down on the couch, and I try not to laugh when he grumbles while his mom sets a stack of photo albums on the coffee table.
“That cute story of him as a toddler has me curious about what he looked like when he was a baby,” I say.
He looks down at me, amusement sparking in his eyes. “I’m gonna head down to the basement to check for more mice.”
“Oh, good idea. Thanks, honey,” Ivy says. I notice that they have the same smile. The right sides of their mouths lift higher when they grin. It’s really sweet.
Travis walks off, and Ivy sets a big photo album on my lap.
“This is his baby book,” she says proudly, while tying her wavy, light brown hair into a ponytail.
When she opens it, the first picture on the page is of a big, bald, chubby baby with endless leg rolls and arm rolls, dressed in a red onesie. He’s sitting on his mom’s lap, looking at the camera with those big, gunmetal-blue eyes. His brow is furrowed slightly.
“Oh my gosh,” I gasp, unable to hold back my laugh. “What a cutie pie. He’s so chunky. And grumpy.”
Ivy chuckles. “He really was. Cutest, chubbiest baby ever. I would get stopped in the street by strangers complimenting me on how adorable he was. And how big he was. He was almost nine pounds when he was born.”
My eyes bulge. Ivy laughs. “I had a C-section. Thank goodness.”
She flips through Travis’s baby book pages.
I see him at every stage of babyhood: crawling on the floor, splashing around in his baby bath, sitting in a high chair, his chunky cheeks smeared with spaghetti sauce, his chubby fingers holding noodles.
Never smiling. In almost every picture, there’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows, like he’s mildly annoyed.
My chest aches at how adorably grumpy and precious he was.
“He still makes that face,” I say.
“Getting a smile out of him was like pulling teeth.” Ivy laughs. “In half of his school photos, he’s frowning. Drove me crazy.”
We get to the last few pages of his baby book.
I point to one of the photos. “What’s he eating?”
“Chicken,” Ivy says through a laugh. “Chicken was his favorite thing to eat.”
I grin. “Really?”
“So funny, right? He didn’t like anything too sweet, even as a baby. All the other kids wanted cake and candy, but he wanted chicken nuggets, always.”
She hands me another photo album. This one is full of pictures from when he was a toddler.
When I see a photo of him scowling at the camera while standing three feet from someone in an Easter bunny costume, I burst out laughing.
Ivy laughs too. “I took him to see the Easter bunny at the mall, and he refused to sit on his lap. The most he would do was stand next to him while looking mad.”
I’m clutching my stomach, I’m laughing so hard.
“Even though he was grumpy, he was a sweet boy.” She pulls out a few cards made of construction paper with hearts and smiley faces and rainbows drawn over them in crayon.
“Once he learned how to draw and write, he’d make me cards for my birthday and Mother’s Day.”
I skim the sweet messages he wrote in adorably sloppy handwriting.
Love you forever and forever
Best mommy in the whole wide world!
Hugs and kisses for you, Mom
My mommy is the prettiest
I let out an “aww” sound as I read them.
“Whenever I’d get sick, he’d draw me a get-well card,” she says softly. “He was such a caretaker. He still is.”
I hand her back the cards, noticing how her smile turns sad.
“I was sick with cancer during his senior year of high school. He dropped everything to take care of me,” she says.
Her eyes turn misty. She has the same eye color as Travis, that mesmerising mix of gray and blue.
I grab her hand in mine. “Travis told me about that,” I say softly. “I’m so sorry for what you went through.”
She gives me a small smile and squeezes my hand in return.
“He was amazing. He stepped up when his dad left. He did so much. So many things a normal seventeen-year-old shouldn’t have to do. I feel so guilty for putting him through that.”
She tears up. My heart breaks seeing her in pain—seeing her carry guilt for something that wasn’t even her fault.
“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” I say gently. “Travis told me how important it was for him to be there for you. He wanted to be there for you. He told me so.”
She wipes her eyes and looks at me. “He told you that?”
I instantly regret what I said. He told me how private she was about her illness. Maybe she’s upset to know that he confided in me.
“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said…I didn’t mean to pry.”
She squeezes my hand, her gaze brightening. “Oh, don’t be sorry. I’m glad he told you.” She starts to smile. “My son doesn’t open up to just anyone. You’re special.”
A tingling feeling swoops through me, hearing her say that.
“Sometimes, when I think about all the things Travis did for me when I was ill, I can’t help but feel guilty.
” She lets out a sad chuckle. “I suppose that’s life as a mom.
You always feel guilty for something. Not doing enough, doing too much.
So to know that he told you his true feelings, that gives me so much comfort. ”
A small pang of guilt lands in my stomach.
“When Travis and I were teenagers, we didn’t get along.
I’m sure he told you about it. We argued a lot.
” I look down at my lap, feeling like a jerk.
“I didn’t know he was taking care of you.
I didn’t know what you were going through.
If I had, I would have been nicer to him.
I would have reached out to see if I could have helped. ”
“Oh, Anna. You have nothing to apologize for. First of all, I was very private about my diagnosis. I didn’t want anyone other than close family and friends knowing.
And second, I know what my son is like.” She flashes a small, knowing smile.
“I love him to bits, but he can be very closed off and intense. And grumpy. That’s not a fun personality to be around sometimes.
I can understand how you would have clashed with him. ”
She gives my hand an encouraging pat. I let out a breath, relieved.
“But it looks like you two are getting along well now,” she says through a smile.
I fiddle with the hem of my shorts. “These past few months, we’ve been getting to know each other a little better. We realized that we misunderstood some things about one another.”
“He likes you a lot, Anna. I can tell by the way he looks at you.” Her smile borders on giddy.
My tummy dips out of sheer giddiness.
I can tell she wants to know more about us, but she doesn’t pry. We go back to looking at more baby pictures. We’re in the middle of looking through another photo album when Travis walks back into the living room.
“Are you done showing Anna embarrassing baby photos of me?” he asks.
Ivy just smiles. “For now. I’ll save some for the next time you bring her over.”
We stand up, and she pulls me into a hug. “Come visit any time you feel like it, okay? I loved having you.”
I squeeze my arms around her, happy that she wants to see me again.
“Call me anytime you need fashion advice if Travis drops the ball,” I say.
She laughs and says she will. After he hugs his mom goodbye, we leave and drive back to my apartment.
“Your mom is the sweetest,” I say, glancing over at him in the passenger seat.
“She liked you a lot.”
A hopeful feeling sprouts in my chest. I bite back a grin. It means so much knowing that…even though it probably shouldn’t. It’s not like we’re dating. It doesn’t really matter if she likes me or not.
But I want her to. She’s such a kind and welcoming person. I want to see her again.
When I think about how I might not get to, a sad feeling bubbles up inside of me. But why would I see her again? I’m not Travis’s girlfriend.
I try to ignore how disappointed I feel.
“So how many photo albums did you two get through?” he asks.
“Four out of what looked like a stack of twenty.”
Travis’s half-smile turns full.
“You looked a lot like your mom when you were a baby,” I say. “You have the same nose and chin and smile. And eyes. Most gorgeous eyes ever.”
He turns to me. “Gorgeous, huh?”
I look back at the road. “I’m sure lots of girls have given you that compliment before.”
“Not really,” he says.
“Oh, come on. You’re a handsome hockey player. I’ve seen the way women look at you.”
He shrugs, like it’s no big deal.
I shake my head, chuckling at how unfazed he is.
“So, you don’t date much then?” I try to sound as cool and laidback as possible, but I’m sure Travis can read the curiosity in my tone.
Because I really am curious. He’s gorgeous.
And a hockey star. He could have any woman he wanted, but I don’t remember him going out with very many people in high school or college.
When I glance over at him, he quirks an eyebrow like he’s amused. He runs a hand through his hair.
“I don’t date much,” he says.
“Why not?”
“I haven’t been interested in a relationship. I’m too busy with hockey and school.”
“So no dating ever then for you, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
I ease to a stop at a red light and turn to him.
“For the right person, I’d have a relationship.” He holds my gaze. “Take them out to get ice cream. Go over to their place and watch their favorite show with them. Become secretly obsessed with watching it. Bring them to meet my mom. Let them look at baby pictures of me.”
My heart flutters in my chest at everything he’s admitting to me.
“Those aren’t things I do with just anyone. Only someone I really, really like. And care about. And have major feelings for.”
My breath catches in my throat. I know Travis likes me and cares about me. I know he’s not seeing anyone except me. But to hear that he has major feelings for me has me floating. Giddy. Happy.
I open my mouth to speak, but the driver behind me honks their horn.
That’s when I realize the light’s green. I pull ahead and try my hardest to focus on the road ahead as I drive the rest of the way to my apartment.
We’re both quiet, but there’s an undeniable tension in the air between us.
Travis made it clear that he’s interested in a relationship with me. And now it’s up to me to decide how I’m going to respond to that.
As I pull my car into the parking space, a million thoughts swirl around in my brain.
How this thing between us started as fun and casual.
How quickly it turned serious. How serious my feelings for Travis are.
How we’re halfway through the summer, which means we’re just over a month away from starting our last year of undergrad, and I didn’t plan to be in a relationship with Travis… but now it’s all I can think about…
How, if we somehow make it through our senior year of college together, it’ll be just the beginning.
I’ll be headed to medical school. He’ll be off playing hockey.
I’ll be studying all the time. He’ll be traveling and training.
We’ll hardly ever see each other. How could we make a relationship work?
I close my eyes and shake my head, quieting the thoughts in my brain. I don’t need to think of every possible scenario and how it could go wrong.
All I need to do is figure out how I feel in this moment.
I kill the engine and turn to Travis.
“You want a relationship with me?” I ask. I need to know without a doubt that’s what he wants.
“Yes.” He says it without hesitation, holding my gaze.
Hearing his unwavering answer is all the reassurance I need. All those doubts fly out of my mind. All that matters is right now. And right now, I want Travis.
“I want that too,” I say.
He grabs me and kisses me.