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“And I just got some checks, too, for the last retreat, I think,” my mom gestures vaguely to a stack of mail and loose papers, fluttering in the window breeze. “You couldn’t be a doll, and make sense of them, could you, Ivy?”
“Sure thing,” I agree. It’s what I do. My parents may be creative and loving, but when it comes to the practicalities of life, like say, filing taxes, and paying the utility bills? They’re a complete disaster. I’ve been running this household since I was old enough to forge my mom’s name in the checkbook, and now, it’s second nature to make sure the lights stay on.
Luckily, they actually make a decent living. Between my dad’s sculptures and art workshops, and mom’s various projects, and the Wild Warrior Woman Wellness retreats she hosts, right here in the backyard, there’s more than enough to keep the bills paid, and the fridge stocked with vegan cheeses. It’s just the small matter of translating those random checks into a bank account balance, and IRS-friendly accounting records.
And people wonder where I got my practical attitude and attention to detail. Yup, I’m sure Reeve will still be panting after me when he learns that my hobbies include basic book-keeping and filing permits with the county small business board.
“There’s something for you, too,” mom adds. “From your college. About the reunion next week.”
“Is that coming up already?” my dad asks. “Time flies. But it’ll be fun, won’t it pumpkin?”
Sure.Fun. Showing up to my grad school reunion divorced and single, while everyone just wants to talk about Jake and his amazing achievements all night.
I shove that future humiliation aside. “How about we enjoy the sunset?” I declare brightly, ushering them out onto the screened-in porch for some much-needed fresh air. We take a seat, and Marmaduke, the ancient ginger cat, strolls over for an ear-scratch. “You know, I could have used a heads up about Jake and the letters,” I start.
“What letters?” my mom asks blankly.
“Great- great grandpa Earl and Madeline’s letters?” I say, feeling a spark of hope. Maybe Jake lied, I wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe she didn’t give him permission after all--.
But then my mom smiles. “Oh, right, those,” she says, waving a hand absently. “I meant to tell you, it’s fine, isn’t it?”
“You mean, letting my ex-husband rake through our family history for fun and profit?” I mutter. “Sure, it’s just dandy.”
“Oh, don’t be like that. What’s the harm in letting him take a peek?” My mom asks, smiling. “It could be fun. If anyone can find the gold, it’s him.”
I take a deep breath, and a sip of kombucha—just a small one, in case of botulism. My dad’s recipes aren’t always the most precise. “I’m the one who did all the research on our show,” I remind her. “Jake just swept in with the cameras at the last minute, and pretended it was all him.”
My mom ignores me. She’s always adored Jake, and still gets starry-eyed whenever I mention-slash-curse his name. “Maybe you could help him?” she suggests now, brightening. “Yes, that would be so much fun. You never know, it could be a way to rekindle things between the two of you.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.
I almost choke on my fermented drink. “Are youcrazy?”
“It was just an idea,” my dad pipes up. “I never did understand why the two of you couldn’t make it work.”
“Because he cheated?” I remind them, frustrated. “And lied, and then, oh yes, cheated again?”
My mom makes a dismissive tutting sound. “Well, that’s not the end of the world. Monogamy isn’t a natural state for men. Or women,” she adds with a knowing smile. My dad gives a chuckle.
“It’s all about communication, honey,” he agrees. “Marriage isn’t supposed to be a prison. You have to accept each other as you are. Naked, in every sense of the word.” He squeezes my mom’s thigh, and she laughs.
Oh God.
I bolt to my feet. I have zero interest in hearing just how “alternative” my parents’ marriage really is. I’ve turned a blind eye for this long, there’s no reason why I can’t go to my grave without thinking too hard about what they all get up to on those Wild Warrior Weekends … “On that note, I’ve got to go!” I exclaim brightly.
“So soon?” my mom asks, looking disappointed. “I was going to make dinner. A nice veggie lasagna, with the mushroom trimmings from the candles.”
“Wow, that sounds … great,” I lie, “But I have plans tonight. I just wanted to check in and say ‘hi’.”
“It’s always lovely to see you, baby.” My mom gets up and gathers me in a warm, grass-scented hug. “I don’t know why you don’t stop by more often.”
“Uh huh,” I reply vaguely, giving dad a hug too. “No idea. See you soon!”
8
IVY
I wasn’t lyingto my parents, I do have plans for the evening: sitting in a dark room for a couple of hours, escaping from the sudden chaos that is my life.
Somehow, my quiet, unremarkable routine here in Milford Falls has been turned upside down overnight. Between Reeve showing up with that tempting smile of his, and Jake being back in town on his futile treasure hunt, I’m suddenly a bundle of angry tension – andlust.
