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Chapter Fifteen
Simon
As soon as I step through the door, the familiarity of home assaults my nose, causing me to breathe deeply. Even though I was just here, dropping Ivy off, not too long ago, I still think about how good it feels to be in the presence of my parents once again.
“Simon,” Mom says, a huge smile on her face as she rounds the corner. “I thought I heard the door open.”
She pulls me into a hug, and I wrap my arms around her. I’m thankful to have a mom like her, one who will drop anything to help me, to keep Ivy, and only wants me to be happy.
“I’m sorry to do this. I just don’t want our little Ivy to possibly catch anything.”
I shake my head, stepping back. “Don’t apologize. I would do the same,” I tell her.
Her eyes flit to the side, and she turns her attention to Alice.
“Hello. I’m so happy to meet you, Alice,” she says, pulling her into a hug the same way she did me. “I’m Jill. My son has told me so much about you.”
Alice’s eyes snap to mine for a second as I glare at my mom. Her barely contained mirth lets me know that she knows exactly what she’s doing—giving Alice hope.
“Come on. Ivy is in the den.” She leads the way, turning slightly as she asks, “Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good. You want anything?” I ask Alice.
“Maybe a glass of water? If you point me toward the kitchen and cabinet, I can fix it myself,” Alice says.
“Not in my home,” Mom says, looping her arm through Alice’s and whisking her off to the kitchen.
I continue walking into the den, where Ivy is sitting on the floor, coloring with some of those fancy markers that go on clear and then the color shows up.
“Hey, pumpkin.”
She looks up at me with a frown while I grin down at her.
“Daddy, you know I’m not a pumpkin, right?” She wrinkles her nose.
“How do you know?” I ask.
She giggles. “I’m a girl.”
“The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Is that flattery?” she asks, going back to coloring, and my eyes widen.
“That’s a big word,” I say with a chuckle.
“Jessica, in my class at school, says her mom likes when her dad flatteries her by telling her she’s pretty.”
“Jessica is probably right. But it’s flatters her, not flatteries. Different parts of speech.” I crouch down beside her, looking at the paper she’s drawing on.
“What’s that mean?” She looks up at me again.
“Well, there are categories for words according to their function or how they work in a sentence. You’ll learn all about it in school. Or you can ask your new nanny.”
“New nanny? Where is Vicky?”
“It’s Ms. Vicky. And remember she had to go spend some time with her son and his wife? They are having a baby.”
“Oh yeah.”
