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4
Ivy
The lights were dimmed by Matthew and a moment later my father came out holding a small cake with three candles in the center of it. The glow illuminated his face, a genuine smile spread across his mouth.
He set the cake in front of me and I smiled, knowing that the past few weeks had been really hard on him, and still were. Despite him searching for a job, he hadn’t found anything and I knew it was wearing him down.
I didn’t know if it was because of the reason he’d lost his job and therefore future employers were staying away, but either way it broke my heart seeing him like this, knowing he was struggling.
And then there was the matter of him being involved with the woman in question, and how juggling everything had to be hard. I heard them talking on the phone on several occasions. But I guess I was too afraid to ask him about it, to want to meet her.
I suppose I found it a little weird knowing my father was involved with someone so young. And on the heels of that, though, I found it funny, hypocritical, or maybe even ironic, given my own situation.
Here I was, nineteen and in love with my step-uncle. I should have no issues with my father being with whomever he wanted, but I guess it was a little different seeing as he was my dad.
“Make a wish, honey,” he said softly and sat down beside me, the grin still in place.
I looked over at Georgia, who sat on my other side. Then I glanced at Matthew, who stood over by the light switch, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his shirt pulled snug against his muscles.
What a sad excuse for a nineteenth birthday, I could practically hear Georgia say. And maybe she was right. But to me this was perfect. I was a low-key type of person, and the three people in this room were the ones I cared about the most.
Georgia was like family, like my sister. She’d been in this house more times than I could count, knew we really didn’t have any family, and that I wasn’t really close with anyone.
I looked down at the cake, at those three candles and the flames that danced as a light breeze picked up. I closed my eyes for a moment and then inhaled a second before I exhaled, extinguishing them. The scent of smoke instantly filled my nose.
When I opened my eyes, it was at the same time Matthew turned the lights on. Our gazes clashed, held. As my father started cutting the cake, and Georgia started talking to him about her plans for college this fall, all I could do was stare at Matthew.
My lips tingled from the idea of him kissing me, my heart raced from the thought of feeling him touch me, press up against me. But I knew nothing could happen. I knew nothing ever would.
This was my life, my broken love story.
How would I ever go on and find a man, marry him, have children with him, when my one true love was just feet from me, untouchable, unattainable … forbidden?
“What did you wish for?” Georgia asked and I glanced over at her.
That I could be with Matthew and it would all work out. That I could love him without judgment.
I didn’t tell her that, of course.
“I wished for world peace,” I said, lying easily. She snorted. I glanced over at Matthew, saw the way he swallowed, his throat working. Could he see the desire on my face whenever I looked at him? Could he see my love for him?
He kept me at arm’s length and I hated it. I felt so lost, lonely. But the truth was, I wouldn’t have changed my feelings for anything. I wouldn’t have stopped them even if I’d known this would be the outcome.
For the next half hour we sat around the table and ate cake, my father telling stories of when I was younger, memories he had of my mother and me when I was a child. It had been so long since we’d talked about her, as if my father didn’t want to bring up painful memories.
Death had a funny way of making you appreciate life, each day. It made you appreciate love even more.
Matthew sat at the end of the table, across from me, looking at me, barely speaking during that entire time. It was like he was another man, not the easygoing person I’d grown up with, that I looked up to.
And I hated that. I wanted things to be okay, no matter what was driving a wedge between us.
I wanted things okay for everyone.
* * *
“I wish I could stay,” Georgia said.
“I know, and I wish you could too. But go help your sister with her school project. I’m just glad you were here. It would’ve even been an even sadder birthday if you hadn’t been able to show up.”
