Chapter 37
Ivy
“You need to show him what he’s missing,” Rose says to Sophie as she moves a red chip on the board.
We’re all sitting at Rose’s kitchen table watching Rose and Delilah’s game of checkers. Delilah still hasn’t fully gotten the hang of the game, but Rose is adamant on teaching her. The kitchen window is cracked and the warm summer breeze blowing in makes it a perfect, cozy, summer afternoon.
Delilah is on her knees in her chair as she holds Burrito out above the board, using her front claw to move a black chip to a surprisingly acceptable square. I high-five her, and wait for Sophie’s reply, because Rose isn’t wrong.
“That’s the thing, he’s not missing anything. He barely looks at me or talks to me. When we went out to celebrate him coming back home, I made a fool of myself. I let my emotions take over and I fell all over him.”
I cringe recalling Sophie giggling like a schoolgirl at something Beau said that night, and him just staring at her blankly in return.
Oof, it hurts to even think about it.
“Well that’s embarrassing,” Rose says dryly as she moves a chip, and Sophie covers her eyes.
“I’m aware, Rose. Thank you,” she says behind her palms.
“Can you just ignore him?” I ask, shrugging—although I know that’s not a very helpful suggestion.
“I wish,” Sophie says, dropping her hands and grabbing a freshly made cookie her and Delilah made off of a plate on the table, eating half of it in one bite.
Sophie made the dough, and Delilah cut every single one of them out. She was incredibly proud of how good they came out. I, of course, snapped a few photos, and sent them to Wesley. Delilah picked out special ones for us to take home, just for him.
“But he’s everywhere,” Sophie continues.
“Everytime I see Lincoln or Maverick, he’s usually with them.
I feel so stupid. I’ve probably thought about the man every single day for the last ten years, and he forgot I existed the minute he left town.
” Her voice gets quieter as each word leaves her lips.
I place my hand over hers and squeeze. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “He’s an idiot. And it’s his loss. You’re the best woman I’ve ever known, and he doesn’t deserve you if he could ever forget about you.”
“Amen,” Rose chimes in. “You’re unforgettable Sophie Cooper, and don’t let any man make you feel otherwise. Kick his ass to the curb.”
“Language, Rose,” I scold, narrowing my eyes on her, and tilting my head toward the child.
“Whose ass?” Delilah asks, and I groan.
“Beau’s,” Rose answers, deadpan.
So much for discrepancy.
“Oh. I like him. Why does Auntie Soph need to ki-ki-kick the curb?” Delilah looks right at me for an answer.
I look at Rose, and she just holds her hands up as if she is washing them of this situation. As if she’s not the one who started it.
“Well…” I start.
“Who wants to help me check the mail?” Rose chimes in.
Delilah whips her head to Rose and raises her hand, jumping up and down on her knees in her seat. “Oh, me! Me!”
“Perfect, just the girl I need,” Rose responds.
She slowly gets out of her seat, and reaches for her walker and winks at me. Thank god. That would’ve been a hard one to explain. Good luck to Sophie the next time she and Delilah are in the same room with Beau.
Sophie scoots her chair back to help Rose with her walker and Rose bats her away. “I got it, I got it. Tara is already up my ass constantly, I don’t need you doin’ it too.”
I roll my eyes and give up on trying to shield Delilah from Rose’s mouth. This is her toned down version of herself anyway, I don’t think I could ask for much more censorship.
Rose and Delilah walk over to the front door together, and I watch Delilah walk slowly to pace herself with Rose.
She stays by Rose’s side, like she’s a bride walking down the aisle with one slow step at a time.
It’s insanely sweet, and just makes me love her that much more, if it were even possible.
Sophie and I watch both of them scoot out of the house, and down the cement pathway to the mailbox.
Delilah sticks her hands out as they walk and tries to catch a butterfly floating past her.
They take what feels like forever due to their slow pace, but we wait patiently in the doorway as Rose opens the mailbox and hands the few pieces of mail to Delilah.
“I don’t think it gets cuter than this,” Sophie whispers next to me.
I grin in response. “It doesn’t,” I reply softly.
As they make their way back, I glance down at my watch and decide it’s time to go.
It’s time for dinner and nearly Delilah’s bedtime.
I move around the house, gathering our things to leave.
Delilah helps clean up the game of checkers and makes sure we have her daddy’s stash of cookies before we say our goodbyes to Rose.
Delilah runs through the sprinkler outside with Sophie, while they wait for me to set Rose up in her recliner. After covering her with a blanket and handing her the remote, I lean down and kiss her on the cheek.
“See you in a couple days?” I ask her.
“Yes. Don’t bother coming if the hellion isn’t with you,” she says without looking at me, already channel surfing.
She means Delilah. I give her a mock salute, and lock her front door behind me. After we all pile into the car, I ask Sophie to come home with Delilah and I because I can tell she’s still feeling down from the whole Beau conversation.
She came over the other day and told me all about their history. I don’t know how she’s managing being in such close contact with him. I know it’s been a decade, but damn, I don’t think I’d be able to be as chill as her if I were in her shoes.
After we get home, I unbuckle Delilah and help her out of the car. She’s still soaking wet from the sprinkler and I gasp at the coldness of her. She latches onto my leg, soaking my jeans.
I scream, feigning horror and Delilah giggles the whole time. I stare at her, hair wet and beaming from ear to ear. I suddenly feel very overwhelmed with how much I love her. I know biologically she’s not mine, but it sure as hell feels like it sometimes.
Inside, Sophie drags her niece away, calling out over her shoulder that she’ll get her washed up for dinner.
I heat up three containers Wesley prepped for us, and we all sit and eat together at the dining room table.
When Sophie asked how everything was ready so quickly, I explained to her the food her brother prepared before he left.
She hummed thoughtfully in response, but I didn’t miss the way she folded her lips behind her teeth, like she was stifling a smile.
“When will Daddy be home?” Delilah asks as she takes her last bite of food.
“In two days. It’ll go by like that,” I assure her with a snap of my fingers.
“Will he kiss you when he gets home?” she asks, a huge grin on her sweet face.
Sophie makes a choking noise, and takes a sip of her drink.
“Umm, I’m not sure,” I say with a nervous laugh, pushing my food around with my fork.
“You kissed at the airport,” she adds matter-of-factly.
“They did, did they?” Sophie asks smugly.
“Yeah.” Delilah beams. “Daddy kissed Iby for like, this long.” She holds her hands out far away from each other like it’s a measurement for time.
“That seems really long,” Sophie agrees.
“It was. It was so romance,” Delilah says, flailing her arm through the air whimsically.
“That does sound like romance,” Sophie says, nodding, completely serious.
“Alright! Bed time!” I cut them off before this conversation goes any further.
What is it with the Coopers making it their mission to embarrass me?
Sophie and Delilah giggle amongst each other, over god knows what while I clean up and throw the dishes in the dishwasher. I give Delilah a bath, get her into her pajamas, and brush her teeth before she and Wesley have a quick phone call to say good night.
As I’m brushing her hair and french braiding it on the couch, I ask Sophie, “Do you want to go home? Or do you want to hang out after I get her into bed?”
She shrugs. “I’ll stay. I’d rather not be alone.”
I figured. “Sounds good. Delilah, say goodnight to Auntie Soph, let’s go to bed.” Delilah has lost most of her energy by now and is definitely tired.
She trudges over to Sophie and says goodnight, hugging her and kissing her on the cheek. I scoop her up, letting her wrap her legs around my waist like a little koala, and carry her to her room.
I flick off the light and turn the galaxy night light on, before setting her down in her bed and covering her up. She asks me to lay with her, so I do my best to squeeze into the tiny bed, resting my head on top of hers, inhaling her sweet strawberry shampoo.
I strengthen my resolve, and promise myself I will not fall asleep. Laying in a dark room, with a noise machine and a cool night light without falling asleep is hard by itself. But throwing a snuggly, cuddly toddler into the mix, and it’s nearly impossible to accomplish.
In the middle of the third book, I look over and see her little eyes starting to droop.
Her dark lashes brush the tops of cheeks, and I know she’ll be out in seconds.
I stop reading, and wait for the tell-tale signs of sleep—snoring.
Just when I think I’m in the clear, my little twin proves me wrong.
“Iby?” she whispers.
“Yes?” I answer, equally as quiet.
“I lub you.”
My eyes flutter closed, and I press them tightly together as if to stop any oncoming moisture from escaping. A lump forms in my throat, and the bridge of my nose tingles.
I gently clear my throat. “I love you more, sweet girl,” I respond, and kiss the top of her head.
She snuggles further into me, like she wants me to absorb her. So I do my best, and wrap my arm around her, holding tightly. A few moments later her soft breath evens out, and when I glance down, I can see she’s completely passed out.