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IVY
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IT’S BEEN SIX MONTHS since I’ve seen David. It was hard to let him go because I know he has to finish up a tour, so our next visit isn’t for four more months, and I’m getting a little antsy. I hate being away from him, but knowing the next time I can see him really helps.
The kids just know Daddy has to go away for work. Because really, how do you explain time travel to someone who isn’t even in kindergarten yet?
Brian has been working on David’s and his plans to get him here. He tried to explain the geeky side of it to me, and my eyes glazed over. Kevin took mercy on me and distracted him.
I’m lying in bed and having problems sleeping. My gut says something is up, but I can’t place it. I get up and go check on the kids and find them both in bed sound asleep. When I get back downstairs, Brian and Kevin are both in the kitchen.
“Can’t sleep, either?” I ask as I sit down at the bar top.
“No. I feel like something is up, but I just can’t place it.” Brian shrugs his shoulders.
I see Kevin making some french fries, our go-to snack, and Brian is mixing up our dip when there is a knock on the door. We all look at the clock and see it is almost midnight. Who the hell is it?
Kevin goes to answer the door, and we are all on edge until we see David on the other side. I run to him and see his face red and tears running down his face. He squeezes me into a bone-crushing hug, and we collapse against the door.
“You weren’t there,” he mumbles into my neck.
“David, I don’t understand.”
“She died, and you weren’t there!”
“David, baby, who died?” I ask softly.
“My mom.”
“What? No, that's next year! Of a brain aneurysm.”
“No, I just left her funeral and wake.”
I look at Brian with panic in my eyes. He is already on his phone.
“No, we mixed up the dates. It was this year.”
“Shit.” Panic rips through me as I get him to the couch.
I kneel in front of him and take his face in both hands.
“I am so sorry. I would have been there with you, and I had every intention of doing so. I am so, so sorry.”
He hasn’t stopped crying, so I wipe the tears from his face.
“Let’s go to bed,” I whisper and stand. He follows me to the bedroom, and I spend the night holding him as he tells me everything from the past few days down to the funeral. I can’t believe we mixed up the dates.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I know, the kids are bouncing on the bed, squealing that Daddy is here. Despite everything, he wakes up with a smile on his face when he sees them. He holds them a bit tighter as we snuggle in for breakfast in bed and watch morning cartoons.
When Brian comes to get them for lunch, I see the pain all over David's face, so I snuggle up to him.
“What's on your mind?” I run my hand down his chest.
“If my plan doesn’t work, if it’s really me in that grave at Ivy Hill, I know the pain they will be feeling. That rips me apart, Ivy. I have to find a way to take care of them.”
“You know you can’t be associated with us in any way, right?”
“I’m going to find a way, Ivy. You can count on that.”
***
DAVID HAS BEEN HERE for two weeks, and I’m assuming he heads home tomorrow.
“I’m going to miss you when you leave tomorrow.” I kiss his neck, which causes him to laugh.
“I’m not leaving tomorrow.”
“But it’s been two weeks.”
“Yeah, but everyone thinks I’m in rehab because I couldn’t take my mother dying, so I have four more weeks before I have to go home.”
I let that sink in. All those six-week rehab visits where no one saw him. Could it be they are when he is here?
I smile. “So rehab is code for visiting me, huh?”
“Yep.” He smiles too.
“I can get on board with that. I still plan to come to visit in four months as we have planned.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Good, I will need some Ivy time after the end of that crazy tour. We rescheduled some dates. My manager wasn’t happy, but since his contract is up in a few months, he hasn’t pushed the issue. He’s worried I won’t re-sign him, so I’m enjoying that.”
“Will you re-sign him?”
“Probably. He can be a pain in the ass, but he has gotten me this far.” He sighs. “I’m going to tuck the kids in for their naps, then I need to talk to Brian and see how far he’s gotten on our plans.
“What plans?”
“Go get us lunch, and I’ll meet you there and explain.”
When he joins us at the table, he explains that Brian has been working on setting up an identity for him, but it’s a slow process so he doesn’t flag any systems. Once it’s done, I will be able to add him to the kid's birth certificates, we will be able to get legally married, and he can do simple things like get a driver's license.
“What about people recognizing you?”
“Well, I’ve been working with a voice coach to learn a more Southern accent; they think it’s for a movie. And my natural hair color is blond, not this black, so I will go back to that, and you said you love my beard.”
I can’t help but smile. David has the sexiest beard, and boy, does it feel great when he wakes me up in the morning with his head between my legs.
“Stop thinking dirty thoughts, woman. I have stuff to do,” he jokes, and I laugh.
“Well, if you are working, then so am I.”
The routine we fall into over the next few weeks is a slice of the life I send up a prayer every night for.
