Chapter 6
Ivy
I watch Micah through the rearview. He threads his hands into his hair, brows knitting in confused frustration the way they used to when we were young, in love, and certain our futures were forever entwined.
Or…at least I thought our futures were forever entwined.
He always said as much, and silly me, I believed him. I fell for the whole thing, hook, line, and sinker. When I told the story to Julian, he rolled his eyes at the gullible young girl, giving her virginity to the boy who said everything she wanted to hear.
Micah promised he’d love me forever, but his actions over the years have shown me the truth. He breaks promises. Runs from responsibility. Then has the audacity to kiss me like nothing happened. Like I didn’t beg him for help when I was at my weakest, and he left me to deal with it all on my own.
I yank my attention away from the traitor in my rearview. “That’s where you belong, Micah Hutton. In the rearview.” Car in gear. Engine stuttering and shuddering, fingers crossed because please oh please don’t let the engine fail me now, and away we go when it rattles to life.
What kind of man ignores his daughter for her entire life, then pretends he doesn’t know she exists?
Answer: the kind of man who talks about love when all he wants is sex.
“Is that her dad?” I mimic Micah’s deep voice, so rich and smooth that it still sends a shiver of pleasure through me, evoking feelings of home and comfort and the best years of my life.
How is that even possible?
Am I really so simpleminded that I find anything about him pleasant or soothing? Or have my years with Julian just been that hard?
For that matter, how can Micah even ask that question? Is that her dad? Of course that isn’t her dad! You know this!
“You always cared, my ass. If you cared, you would have been there for us. You would have shown up when I told you I was pregnant. You would have been with me when Nell was born. You’d know her name.
Her favorite color. You’d know she’s just like you and you’d love her as much as I do.
That’s what caring looks like, you crazy son of a bitch!
” I slap the steering wheel—anger feels more righteous than tears—then curse when my palm stings.
The Huttons are a high achieving family, but Micah went a different way.
Not a bad way. (At least I didn’t think so back then.) Just his own way.
He was smart and kind and hardworking, but always managed to get in trouble at school because his mind was somewhere else, or he was never afraid to put his ideas to the test. Always on the move, always on the go, never exactly where he was supposed to be.
Just like his daughter.
My parents hated that about him, lecturing me over and over because they thought he wasn’t good enough for me.
They wanted someone who towed the line. A golden boy, football star, college scholarship, overachiever rather than my dark-haired first love with his wild mind. I fought them over him for years.
It kills me they were right.
How can he look so glad to see me when he disappeared the second things got real? Leaving me to deal with every single consequence on my own? Every single challenge? Does he really think he can swoop into my life and play the hero now?
Fat chance on that one.
Nell is my daughter. Not his. He may have donated his genes, but I’ve put in the work.
But man, those genes are strong. She looks just like him.
His rich chocolate eyes. The perfect slant of his eyebrows.
His cheekbones. Though she has my hair, long and blonde and constantly a mess because she has her father’s energy, too.
Penelope Michaela Cole is always on the move and constantly on the verge of trouble.
But she’s the sweetest, brightest, biggest-hearted kid in the world.
Just like I used to think Micah was.
I pull into Grandma’s driveway as the dark clouds loom ever closer.
Between the storm, Julian, Micah rescuing me from a panic attack and then kissing me, I’m a wreck, and I can’t let Nell see that.
She deserves a strong mom. A smart mom. Someone who has herself together, knows what she wants, and works to make it happen.
Plastic covers the gaping hole of her window, and that side of the ranch style house is singed and charred.
While the rest of the house is habitable, Nell’s room is waiting to be gutted and rebuilt from the ground up.
Insurance will cover the repairs, but it’ll take time for the paperwork to clear and then more time for the work to be done.
As I kill the engine, the front door bursts open and my beautiful daughter races to the car, hair streaming as her smile stretches wide and wonderful.
Her knees, elbows, and hands are covered in bandages from her fall, but they’re not slowing her down.
I don’t think anything ever will. And just like that, my mood lightens, despite the roll of thunder urging me to get in the house before the storm breaks.
“Hey there, Nell Bell,” I say as she swings open my car door. “How goes my beautiful sunshine?”
“I had the best day today, Mama. We did a ‘speriment with volcanoes and Nurse Weathers is…I wanna say she’s real nice but I’m trying not to tell lies. And Giuseppe DiSanto told me I was badass because of my scrapes from falling off the monkey bars.”
I arch an eyebrow as Nell covers her mouth.
“Sorry, Mama.” She spreads her fingers to whisper, “But that’s what he said.”
Her smile is medicine and her energy is sweet and oh my goodness I would do anything for this little girl, with her soulful eyes and energy so like the person her father could have been.
“Help me carry the food in?” I ask as she dances and twirls. “I got some pudding cups this week.”
“Puddin’ cups, puddin’ cups! Who doesn’t love a puddin’ cup!” Nell gathers several bags from the back and skips toward the house where Grandma leans on the doorway, smiling brightly, welcoming us home.