Chapter 24 The Strawberry Jam’Boree
THE STRAWBERRY JAM'BOREE
DELILAH
Did all of that really just happen?
I mean…I knew I’d get my divorce one way or another.
I had high hopes for the prospect of Leonard Mason Jr. and his ability to get me custody of my children.
I didn’t think I’d ever live in a world where I’d never have to look into the eyes of Earl Ellis Booth ever again.
I’ve spent the last hour inconsolably crying into Ivy’s arms while she held me and reassured me that this is, in fact, real life.
But even as we sit here on the window bench of Miss Pattie’s, where we got a front-row view of James leading Earl into Leonard's office by his collar like a naughty dog, I’m not quite sure I believe it.
“More eclair?” Ivy asks around a mouthful of pastry.
I nod and take a large bite of the sweet, licking away the chocolate that sticks to the corners of my lips.
My eyes keep drifting across the street to the law offices of Mason & Mason.
I feel like I won’t believe that Earl is out of our lives for good until the ink is dry on the papers and his Mustang is hauling ass past the ‘Welcome to Be utiful Fox Hole’ sign for the last time.
“Do you think it was, like, super un-feminist of us to bring in a man to fix all of our man problems?” I ask, taking a long sip of my iced coffee.
It’s fully caffeinated since I’m truly in the home stretch of this pregnancy.
Little Bean is almost fully cooked. I figure a nice afternoon jolt after an emotionally draining day can’t do much damage.
Ivy takes a bite of her eclair, thinking as she chews.
“No. I don’t think so. I mean, really, we had it under control.
We hired the right lawyers and were going through all the proper channels to make sure we won the custody case.
And technically, we completed Operation Goodbye Earl all on our own.
We wrecked his hair, his cars, and his reputation before Leonard told us to back off.
Bringing in James just sort of made all of what we did foolproof. ”
“Got it. So the billionaire backup pitcher is like our extended warranty?”
“Exactly.”
We fall into a pit of laughter, only coming up for air when Ivy grabs my hand and squeezes tight.
“Lilah, baby. Look!”
Right outside the window, Earl is being led by his collar (that image will never get old) right to his car. The defeated look on his face is so wonderfully delicious, it’s almost enough to turn me on. James spots us staring through the window and gives us a thumbs-up.
The deed is done.
My kids are mine.
As soon as I sign a few papers, I’ll no longer be married.
And the woman I love is right here by my side, ready to celebrate with me.
“How do you feel, Lilah?”
Amazing. Exhausted. Exhilarated. Embarrassed. A thousand pounds lighter.
But I don’t say any of that.
“I guess I feel…like it's time I figured out what the hell I’m going to do with my life now. That marriage, the divorce, this pregnancy. It’s taken up all of my brain space for so long. Now I’m free, so what the hell is next? Who am I if I’m not the poor chump married to The Earl of Auto anymore?”
Ivy tilts her head, a knowing grin spreading across her beautifully pale face. Mischief dances in her opal eyes, and somehow I know I might be feeling suddenly lost, but Ivy will always make sure I get to where I need to be and she’ll be by my side every step of the way.
“I might have an answer to that question. Want to take a little walk with me? I’ve got something to show you.”
I stifle a groan—walking around in the blistering Tennessee summer heat while a bowling ball takes up residence in your uterus is not for the faint of heart—but Ivy looks so damn excited, I can’t say no to her.
Hell, I’m curious to know what she could have to show me in Fox Hole that I haven’t already seen a thousand times.
She leads me around the corner just off Main Street, stopping in front of the nearly empty parking lot in front of The Inkwell and the empty building attached to it.
“You brought me to The Inkwell? That’s nice, Vee, but you know I don’t have an artistic bone in my body. There’s no way I’m going to take up tattooing as a hobby, even if Cliff were dumb enough to hire me. And needles make me nervous, so body piercing is out—”
“Lilah. You’re not getting into tattooing. Look at the sign in the building next door.”
I lift my hand to shield my eyes from the sun and squint. The ‘For Sale’ sign that has adorned the window of the empty building for months has been replaced with a ‘Sold’ sign. And right below it…
“Coming soon: The Strawberry Jam’Boree”
“Ivy…what the hell is going on?”
“I bought them, Lilah. Cliff is retiring. The Inkwell is mine. Well, ours, since I like to think of us as partners in all things.”
She…bought The Inkwell? When? Why? Why didn’t she tell me?
“I was waiting for the right moment,” she answers the question I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud.
“With all that’s going on, well, I know you don’t like change.
You like your lists and your routines. I didn’t want to throw more chaos on top of the circus we’ve been dealing with.
But now that Earl is gone and Sadie is almost back in school and Little Bean is ready to pop, I figured it’s time I looped you in. ”
“But what about Lilith & Lace?” I’ve known Ivy was planning on staying in Fox Hole for good. She’d never back out on a promise to me like that. But I’d been preparing for a life where she commuted between here and Nashville, at least occasionally.
“Devi has already taken over L&L. I’m still the owner, but now she’s handling all the business operations. I’m more of a silent partner.”
“But…but Vee…you love Lilith & Lace. Lilith & Lace is your baby.”
She places a cold hand on the swell of my belly.
“Little Bean is my baby. Sadie is my baby. You are my baby. Lilith & Lace is just a place I worked.”
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, adding to the moisture of sweat—both from the heat and a general sense of nervousness—gathering on my skin.
“Okay…okay. So you bought The Inkwell. What does that mean for me? If you’re not trying to rope me into tattooing, that is. Can I be your receptionist or something? I think a job would do me some good once Little Bean is old enough.”
“Lilah, baby. I bought the spot next door, too. It’s zoned for a commercial kitchen.
Your brother has already drawn up a few tentative plans to turn it into whatever you want.
You can make and sell jam, you could make my world-famous HJ sandwiches and become a hot lunch spot.
Maybe go in a more kitschy direction and sell jams and Fox Hole souvenirs to the tourists who pass through town on their way to Knoxville. Whatever you want. It’s yours.”
Ivy bought me a business? I mean, I know that’s not how that works, but how else am I supposed to phrase it?
She’s gifting me something that is completely mine.
A place where I can spread my wings and figure out who I am again.
The tears are falling in earnest now, and I wish it weren’t so damn hot out so that I’d be wearing a sleeve to wipe my snot on at this moment.
I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to say.
“We’re gonna get to work next door to each other?”
Ivy smiles, wiping away a stray tear with her thumb.
“Right next door. So we can visit and chat with each other whenever we want.”
“Just like now,” I laugh through my tears.
“Just like now.”
An hour later, I’m still covered in sweat and leaking tears from my eyes, but this time it’s because Ivy has already wrung three orgasms from my body and I’m screaming towards another one.
“God, Lilah baby. You look so fucking good like this. So beautiful when you let me ride you.”
“Vee, I can’t come again. It’s too much, please.”
Instead of backing off, Ivy hits a button on the Magic Wand she’s holding onto, increasing the vibration on our pussies.
“You can do it, honey. Stay still and let it happen.”
I couldn’t stay still if I tried. I buck and thrash, feeling the damp fabric of the pillows underneath my hips as the combination of sweat and our arousal continues to leak down between us.
Ivy is gloriously naked on top of me, straddling my thigh almost horizontally while holding the tennis ball-shaped end of the vibrator between us so we can both grind our clits against it at the same time.
Her skin is hot, like liquid fire licking at my skin everywhere we touch.
My pussy is raw, aching, so overly sensitized that there’s absolutely no way in hell that I could—
“Holy shit, IVY!” I scream when she pinches my nipple.
A warm dribble leaks down my breast—the milk that has recently started to come in.
It’s almost embarrassing, but Ivy places her thumb between her lips and sucks the milk from her skin, and I’m a goner.
The orgasm that hits me is brutal, violent and sharp like a blow to the stomach that leaves me gasping for air.
On top of me, Ivy grinds down harder and throws her head back, moaning out her own release while I fight for my next breath.
When she finally switches off the toy and flops onto the mattress next to me, I’m happy for relief.
That is, until she leans over and sucks one of my leaking nipples into her mouth.
It’s like a shot of exquisite pain and pleasure right to my clit, and I’m sure if I hadn’t just spent the last little while coming my brains out, I would have another tiny orgasm right now.
“Ivy Crowe, are you drinking my breast milk?” I ask, my voice raspy from all the sex sounds. She moans and nods, sucking harder. I can feel the release of liquid from my nipple, an odd but familiar sensation. “And how do I taste?”
She lets go of my nipple with a wet pop, then kisses me on the lips.
“Like the sweetest strawberry jam, Lilah baby.”
We shower together, whispering our gentle ‘I love you’s like the most devoted of prayers.
And later when Sadie is home, the four of us—Little Bean included—cuddle on the couch while Ivy and Sadie play their video games and I watch them, feeling for the first time in a long time like everything is exactly as it's supposed to be.