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The ‘next year’ part makes me feel a little bit better. “Yes,” I say with a nod, sniffling. “I need to talk to Uncle Owen and set things straight. He was so angry, George. I’ve never seen him like that.”
The drive to Brooklyn is quiet, but George holds my hand the entire way, letting me know he is here for me. When we arrive at my uncle’s house, George asks me if I want him to go in with me. “I think it will be better if you don’t,” I tell him. “I’ll call you and let you know how it goes.”
“You’re sure?” His eyes are worried. “I can wait out here for a little while if you want…just in case.”
I’m relieved to know that he is willing to stay. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
George caresses my cheek softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Ivy. I’ll wait.”
Shakily, I make my way up the stairs to the front door. I have no idea what I’m walking into.
When I open the door, Uncle Owen is waiting for me along with my aunt. “You didn’t go out? I thought you had a date tonight. We didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow,” he says sarcastically. Cynthia’s face behind him is distressed as she subtly shakes her head in a silent sign that she can’t do anything. I can’t fault her. I’m sure she tried.
Looking down beside where Owen is standing, I notice two packed suitcases. “What are those for, Uncle Owen?” I ask as a dawning realization creeps over me. Surely,thisisn’t happening.
“Since you seem so eager to spend less time here, I thought I would help you in that direction. You can’t live here anymore, Ivy. I can’t have anyone living under my roof that so blatantly disrespects me.”
I move towards him, my palms open pleadingly. “Uncle Owen, you don’t mean this.”
His gaze is steady. “Yes. I do.”
Looking past him, I see my aunt. She can’t even meet my eyes. Still, I have to try. “I love you, Uncle Owen. I’m sorry I hurt you…disappointed you. Please understand that this was never meant to be an affront to you.”
He refuses to look at me. “You’ve made your choice. Now you need to leave.”
Right now, I am grateful that George decided to wait. I never would have thought my uncle would do this, but he is. “We’ll talk again once you’ve calmed down.”
“You’ll be waiting a while.” He sounds like he means it.
Knowing that argument will be futile right now, I pull out the handles of the suitcases, dragging them behind me to the door. I look at Cynthia as I open the door. “Call me if you need me.”
She nods. “I will.”
Owen steps in between us. “We won’t need you. Wedon’tneed you.”
Now it’s my turn to be angry. “It’s nice to know I mean so much to you. All along, I thought of you as a father. I didn’t realize I was just a tenant!”
With that, I turn around and walk out. The luggage thuds loudly behind me as I pull it down the stairs dejectedly. George sees me and jumps out to run around to the other side of the car. “What happened?”
“He kicked me out of the house,” I reply dully.
George looks up to where my aunt and uncle are standing on the door stoop. “I can have a word with him if you want me.”
“No, please don't,” I beg him as I hand him the suitcases. They barely fit in the trunk of the small Mercedes. With a lot of effort, George is finally able to close the trunk.
As George gets into the car, he looks at me. “Are you okay?” he asks as he takes my hand, squeezing it lightly.
I squeeze his hand back, grateful for his support. “I will be.”
As we drive from Brooklyn back to Manhattan, I stare out the window without really seeing, everything a blur. When we arrive at the penthouse, we are both quiet, and George takes my luggage to the bedroom.
“I’m sorry about this. I’ll call one of my friends tomorrow. Maybe I can stay with them, and I can check ads for roommates, too,” I tell him when he walks back in the living room.
George walks up to me, his gaze unwavering as he takes my shoulders in his hands. “Ivy, look at me. You’re not going anywhere. You can stay with me as long asyouwant to. It’syourdecision. I’ll be glad having you here. I just wish that I could have asked you to come live with me over a candlelit dinner and flowers, perhaps a violinist playing in the background. I would have rather done it that way…and with your uncle’s blessing.” He takes me in his arms, holding me tightly. “You’ll get it worked out with Owen. I’m sure of it. Meanwhile, I can’t say I’m not glad to have you here with me now. The penthouse always seems empty whenever you leave.”
With his arms around me, I feel better. It’ll be better tomorrow. I’m sure it will. For the first time since we decorated the tree, we don’t make love. Instead, George holds me to him, whispering soothing words as my tears run down his chest.
