Chapter 10 Ivy
TEN
ivy
I sighed as my eyes peeled open and were met with darkness. I took a deep breath a second later, my eyes moving around my room in search of something familiar.
Two months in, and I still woke up in my bed wondering where the hell I was.
I sat up slowly, twisting my head to my right. Reaching for my phone a breath later, I pressed the device’s side button to light up the screen to check the time. It was 3:03 in the morning. I had been getting up at the same time since moving out to Greene Gardens.
I pinched the inner corners of my eyes and kicked off the bedding covering me.
Like most nights, when I’d awaken in the middle of the night, I decided to take a trip to the kitchen to grab a drink of water and check on Baby Love before returning to my room to force myself to go back to sleep.
Baby Love had been sleeping really well.
Truthfully, I was too before moving out here and having to take care of him.
His waking in the middle of the night his first month in the house was handled by the baby nurse we hired.
But when her time was up, and it was up to Leo and me…
mostly me, getting up in the middle of the night seemed to throw off my circadian rhythm.
Because now, without even trying, and long after Baby Love was sleep-trained to perfection, sleeping practically through the night, I was still getting up at 3 a.m.
I took quiet steps down to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, spotting Leo’s sneakers neatly set to the side by the shoe rack.
He had gotten better at cleaning up after himself and keeping things in order around the house, when he was home.
Though he had gotten better with chipping in with his time and energy to raise the baby, he still had his obligations, especially now that he signed on to the LEGO brand and agreed to partner with them to develop his limited edition set.
I was happy for him, even when my career was looking like a dream deferred these days. The YouTube channel I’d treated like a side hustle for the longest was thriving, all because of that one video of me going in on a referee while rocking an infant to sleep.
After grabbing that drink of water, I headed upstairs with plans to stop at Baby Love’s room, then retire in mine.
Baby Love. We still hadn’t decided what his name would be. It was almost embarrassing at this point. We could have chosen any damn name, but shit, I just didn’t want to.
I really wish Kendra told me what names she and Tyrell were considering. If I had a guiding post, I would feel more comfortable naming this child.
Baby Love’s nursery was between my room and Leo’s room. I stopped at the baby’s door and pushed it open as quietly as I could. I spotted him lying on his back with his tiny fists up, framing his little face that was turned to his right.
Couldn’t help my heart from melting at the sight of him in rest. It’s crazy.
When my colleagues at Free-Throw Nation who were also parents, discussed their children or insisted on showing me a random photo of their daughters or sons, I couldn’t understand the fascination and how it was so immense they felt the need to share.
I had never been around children before Baby Love.
Before Kendra, no one I knew was having babies or even thinking about having them.
We were all looking to grow in our careers.
As I stared at Baby Love sound asleep in the crib we transitioned him into before he could outgrow his baby bassinet, I totally understood the craze for babies.
I smiled as I closed the door gently, positioning my feet to return to my bedroom.
But then I heard something. Couldn’t be too sure at first if it was what I thought it was.
There was sniffing, then sobbing. Soft sobbing that sounded muffled and muted a little behind a closed door.
I turned in the direction of it, my eyes scanning the short hall. I walked up to Baby Love’s door, pressing my ear to it, and heard nothing.
The sobbing started up again, and my attention went right to where I figured it was coming from.
I took careful steps to Leo’s room door where the sounds were coming from. I did as I usually did with Baby Love’s door, pressing my ear to it.
I heard sniffing, or what sounded like it, behind Leo’s closed door. I couldn’t be too sure.
But when I turned Leo’s doorknob and pushed the door in gently, I confirmed what my ears had already picked up.
As the door opened, I saw him sitting on the floor, his long legs bent at the knees, his forearms balanced on top of them, arms hanging over. His head hung to his chest, his body visually showing what he was feeling inside.
I had never seen Leo break down before. His sobs were quiet at first as I stood at the doorway. It was almost like he was trying to hold them back, a stifled sound that you could mistake for a cough or a clearing of the throat.
I hadn’t seen him cry not once. While I was always breaking down for seemingly anything and anywhere, I had never seen Leo shed a tear over losing his best friend.
He just always seemed to hold it all together and remain strong for the both of us.
But as I stepped closer, I could see the hurt I had been wondering if he ever felt.
I could see the real struggle on his face, the way his jaw clenched tight, fighting against the wave of emotions that finally spilled over.
I whispered, “Leo?”
He gasped, popping his head up, then quickly taking a swipe at his face to clear it of tears.
His eyes. My heart broke when they locked on mine before he forced himself to look away. His eyes that were normally so bright and commanding were dimmed, red-rimmed, and glossy with unshed tears.
“Ivy, man,” he expressed, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. “What the fuck? You don’t know how to knock?”
His mouth said one thing, but his eyes and his posture said something else. Those eyes were revealing so much behind them.
“This is the second time you just walked up in here without knocking.” He turned his back to me, inhaling a deep breath while swiping his hand down his face again.
How could I have been so naive? Believing that we just were grieving differently, but he was clearly hurting.
His reaction said it all for me. I was hearing his words, and he was doing a good job at trying to deflect, but all I could see was hurt.
“Leo,” I affirmed this time.
“Nah, man.” He shook his head, his back still to me. “Get out.”
He was so guarded, but the moment was everything but that.
It was a raw, unguarded moment that shattered his usual demeanor of easy confidence and playful charm…
something that always annoyed me about him.
He was so unserious, taking everything for a joke.
He’d been this way for as long as I knew him.
I often wondered how he and Tyrell got along because Tyrell was never as playful as Leo.
Leo was inhaling deep breaths, my guess trying to get himself together, and I just wanted to show him he didn’t have to. That it was okay to just let that shit out.
So I went to him, my steps along his floor letting him know I was closing the distance between us.
He barely turned to face me when he made a beeline for his bed. “Ivy, go.”
He’d plopped down into a seat when I was only steps away. And when I took a seat beside him on his bed, he kissed his teeth and dropped his head back between his shoulders.
“Oh my God,” he expressed to the ceiling. “Please, don’t do this shit right now.”
I didn’t say anything else. Didn’t think I needed to. The only thing I did was wrap my arms around him and pulled him in. And he collapsed in my arms.
I held him tighter, feeling my own tears wanting to fall too. They welled in my eyes, and I took a couple of deep breaths to keep them inside.
So many times, Leo was my strength. And there was some reassurance with that. That I could break down, and he would be there to make me feel whatever I was feeling would pass soon.
I wanted to be that for him.
But watching him sent a pang in my chest. Several pangs. A deep, aching echo of his pain that made me draw him nearer, doing my very best to offer any comfort I could in that moment.
Aside from his sobs, the night was quiet, and sleep for me was long gone after seeing him like this.
“All this shit, man,” he said lowly, pulling away slowly, covering his face with his big hands.
“Having to raise a baby…” He dropped his hands to look at me.
“Having to live here. Needing to still perform my best at every game. God.” Leo inhaled a deep breath.
“I’m just tired, Ivy.” He shook his head.
“I miss my boy.” Leo’s chin quivered before he balled his lips to force it to stop.
I placed a hand against his back and started running my palm up and down the length of it.
“When the fuck does it get easier?” he asked, turning his attention to me.
His eyes were even more red-rimmed than they were when I walked in here, skin flush. I wasn’t sure how long he’d been crying before I walked into his room, but it must have been for a while because he looked terrible… but handsome too.
The vulnerability, the openness. I had never seen Leo express anything emotionally.
It’s like I said, everything was always a joke to him.
Class clown shit 24/7. But that night, his sadness was humanizing, showed emotional depth.
His willingness to be vulnerable, even though he tried to fight it at first, reaffirmed that despite our differences, he trusted me, and that did something to me.
I almost felt protective watching him like this.
We held our stare for the longest, saying nothing, my hand still caressing his back.