Chapter 11
Ivy
The ride home happens in a blur while my daughter chatters happily in the backseat, going on and on about the nice man who gave her ice cream—a man who looked a lot like Micah’s cousin Nathan. A man who saw the truth of my daughter just as easily as the rest of us.
How did I not see this coming?
“It was strawberry ice cream and it was so good, Mama. I telled him you normally wouldn’t let me have ice cream with strangers. He said that made you pretty smart. Then he said he was a stranger without danger and I thought that was pretty funny. Is that real? Strangers without danger?”
I’m not feeling very smart at the moment. I’m not feeling very anything at the moment. Or rather, I’m feeling too much of everything so my system’s shutting down and now I’m numb.
I left this morning, thinking I was taking a step toward independence. I’m coming home with the knowledge that everything I thought about Micah might be wrong.
Is it possible he actually didn’t know about Nell? All these years, I thought the worst of him and maybe, if I hadn’t taken my father’s advice, if I’d called his parents and hunted him down, everything would be different.
But that’s assuming he’s telling the truth about what happened. He looked like he’s telling the truth, but why didn’t he let me know he wasn’t going to have a phone? One text from him and none of this would have happened.
Is he lying to me? If so, why? Just to get me to live with him? That doesn’t sound like Micah.
And if he is being honest, if today was the first time he knew he was a father, everything makes more sense now.
So much more sense.
“Was it because of the non-mouse?”
Except for that question. That question makes no sense at all.
I peek at Nell through the rearview mirror as I turn onto Grandma’s street. “What did you just ask me?”
“You letting me get ice cream with the stranger without danger man. Was that because of the non-mouse…” She furrows her brows, and the expression looks so much like Micah, my heart hurts.
“The non-mouse donation? What even is that anyway? A non-mouse? I keep thinking maybe a cat, but I don’t know why anyone would want to give us a cat. ”
“You mean the anonymous donation?” I can’t hide my smile and it only brightens when Nell clicks her tongue and sticks her pointer fingers straight into the air.
“That’s it. The nonamouse donation.” The wrinkle of her nose says she’s aware she didn’t quite get the word right, but doesn’t care enough to slow down and try again. “Is that why you let me have that yummy ice cream with that guy?”
“That is exactly the reason why. I knew we were in a safe space with safe people, and I needed to have a private conversation with…”
…your father…
“…a man who wants to give us a place to stay.” I quickly describe what anonymous means, then we share a laugh when she points out it isn’t very anonymous when the man walks right into the room.
Nell chews her bottom lip for a minute, obviously lost in thought. “He looked at me funny. That man.”
“He did.” I swallow past a lump in my throat.
What must that moment have been for Micah? Seeing his daughter for the first time like that? Thinking he was in the middle of a kind gesture only to have reality slap him in the face?
And I’ve been so rude to him since I’ve been back in the Keys. Pushing him away every time he tried to do something nice. He said things might never be okay between us again, and I get that. From his perspective, I’ve been absolutely horrible…assuming he’s telling the truth.
I want to believe him, but that whole thing about me breaking up with him has me confused. I wanted to run home and be with him forever. Not break up.
“I felt like I did something wrong.” Nell meets my eyes through the rearview, looking genuinely upset. “And that man looked at me funny because he didn’t like me.”
“Oh, sweet Nell. I promise you; you did absolutely nothing wrong.” I risk a glance over my shoulder as I slow to turn into the driveway. “You hear me? Nothing wrong at all.”
“I thought maybe it was because I wasn’t ‘apposed to tell him my name. Some grownups don’t like it when kids talk too much.
Like the nurse at my new school. She doesn’t like it when kids talk at all,” she stage-whispers, then turns her attention to Grandma, who’s waiting on the covered porch as my rust bucket rattles to a stop.
Nell waves and Grandma stands, moving to meet us at the steps.
“What did they say?” she calls as I step out of the car, stretching my arms towards a sapphire sky. “Did you get it? Did they give you housing? How does it work?”
“Oh, Grandma!” Nell dashes up the steps.
“You have no idea! There was this nice man and he’s giving us a special…
what is it, Mommy?” She barely waits for me to catch up before continuing.
“He’s some kind of mouse but it has nothing to do with cats.
It’s more like a secret but he wasn’t secret at all. ”
Grandma’s eyes go wide. “There was a mouse?”
“A nona-mouse,” Nell explains as she reaches for the front door.
“I don’t think I’ve heard of that before.” Grandma looks to me for clarification.
“I’ll tell you all about it when we get inside,” I promise, doing my best to communicate through eye contact alone that I’m about to melt her brain.
The arch to her eyebrow says my message has been received and we filter into the living room. “Sweet Nell,” Grandma says, patting my daughter’s hair, “why don’t you play in the backyard for a little bit. Your mom and I need to talk about boring grownup stuff.”
“Story of my life,” Nell mutters, dutifully heading for the back door. “Everyone’s keeping secrets from Nell. At least last time they gave me ice cream.”
“She’s a riot, that one,” Grandma says as we move into the kitchen.
She pulls a tea kettle out of the cabinet.
“I can tell something big happened and while I don’t for a second believe it had anything to do with a mouse, I feel like this might be news best absorbed over a drink.
” She pauses with the kettle under the faucet, waiting for confirmation.
“Tea’s not gonna be strong enough.” I lean on the counter while the memory of Micah’s smile fading into betrayal circles my brain. It sure looked like he was telling the truth.
Grandma’s eyebrows skyrocket. “Coffee it is,” she says, putting the kettle away and pulling a coffee tin out instead.
“There wasn’t a mouse.”
Nothing about Micah Hutton is mouselike. His energy takes up too much space. Being in that office with him, his emotions going wild, it was like standing next to a live wire. My entire body was on alert, even as I transitioned from anger to regret to…something else.
“It was an anonymous donor.”
Grandma giggles. “A nona-mouse. That’s too cute. And rather mysterious, no?”
“He spends a lot of time outside his house and has extra rooms he wanted to give us. He’s basically donating his home.”
“That’s so sweet.” She pauses, a wicked gleam settling into her eyes. “Is he handsome? Tell me he’s handsome, Ives. Let an old woman live vicariously through her granddaughter.”
“He’s Micah.”
Grandma freezes. Blinks several times. Starts to ask a question, then turns to the cabinet and grabs a bottle of Irish Cream. “I never, ever say this, but coffee’s not gonna be strong enough.”
“You know, in this instance, I agree with you.”
She’s quiet while the coffee finishes brewing, and then quiet some more while she pours, adding a second splash of Irish Cream into both mugs. Then a third. She considers a fourth but caps the bottle and takes a long drink instead.