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Authors: Faith Sullivan

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College

Hold Me Tight (20 page)

BOOK: Hold Me Tight
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Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eric

Nine months later

I always wanted to take Ivy to the Hideaway Cliffs, and now they’re in our own backyard.

Once Natalie came home from the hospital, I slaved relentlessly to get our new home off the ground throughout the spring and into the summer. And it wasn’t a torturous process like when I built the cabin after Cassidy died. This time, I let other people help me. My dad, Ben, Jack—they all pitched in to make it happen. Even Dr. P. stopped by one weekend to help me nail down shingles on the roof. I guess he enjoys being in the great outdoors as much as the next guy after spending so much time at the hospital.

Ivy insisted that she wanted another log cabin, so that’s what I gave her, even though this one’s a little bigger to accommodate our growing girl. This time, I thought ahead, forgoing the dangers of an open fireplace—especially around an infant—and installed a central heating system. I also kept in mind the big picture, adding on more rooms now for the siblings we hope to provide one day for Natalie. This is it. We don’t plan on moving again. We want to set up roots here and let this be the house our children grow up in, the one they will always remember as their childhood home.

I take a moment to stop unloading the back of my truck and look around. The fall foliage is breathtaking on this late September afternoon, the sunlight illuminating the vibrant red, orange, and yellow hues throughout the forest. Not many people get to call the Hideaway Cliffs home since the majority of the land makes up a nature preserve that is a part of the state park system. But my dad knew I had my heart set on this location when I talked to him about my plans for rebuilding, and he started scouting around. Luckily, he came across an elderly man who was selling a few acres just outside the boundary line. The guy was particular when it came to whom he wanted to deal with, but when he heard what I did for a living, he was more than willing to do business with me. Turns out, one green thumb deserves another. Being that he was an ardent conservationist his whole life, he was determined to preserve the natural habitat, selling only to someone who would respect the environment.

Yeah, I have more of a morning commute now, but I don’t mind since Will’s there to open for me as the new manager of Riverside Gardens. He decided to stick around when he saw that Ben wasn’t bouncing back to his old self. He told Dave that he wouldn’t be able to go out to L.A. full time and that it was probably best for everyone involved if he stayed away from Warren. Of course, Will was no longer interested in him, but he played his cards right, getting Dave to agree to his request.

Will also did it as a way to keep Ivy involved in the project. He knew she was going crazy spending her days in the hospital, watching over Natalie with nothing better to do than worry. So he got her to fire up her laptop and start typing away while she was sitting next to the incubator for hours on end. He helped keep her mind active and her sanity intact.

And boy, did it turn out to be a worthwhile endeavor. This time, Ivy didn’t write what Lauren told her to. She didn’t tell Cassidy’s story. Instead, she told her own and those of everyone around her. Aided by Will’s critical eye, she created something truly special. It was fresh, honest, and real. The studios had never seen anything like it, and at first, the major ones passed. But Warren and Dave found the perfect fit with an indie company that specialized in distribution deals with Showtime and HBO. They loved Ivy’s screenplay so much that they asked her to rework it, not as a made-for-TV movie, but as an original series. So far, they committed to an eight-episode season with the possibility of extending the run if the ratings are good. Casting begins next week, with a tentative airdate for the pilot set for the fall of next year. If all goes according to plan, Ivy will be one step closer to achieving her dream and cementing her career as a writer.

And I’m so proud of her for tackling such serious issues like alcoholism and sexual assault. She didn’t shy away from such tough topics. Instead, she brought them to the forefront. The stories were drawn from the people in our lives, even if they don’t resemble them exactly. She provided a wide spectrum of characters: gay, straight, black, white, those with disabilities, and those without.

I know it’s her way of keeping her promise to Tim when it came to speaking up about what Ryan did to her. She handed me the episode based on what occurred in his Jeep one night while we were lying in bed. After I read it, I held her until she fell asleep. I never knew the full extent of the attack until then and how much she suffered because of it. And I think she only told me because she knew I couldn’t get to him. I might have gotten better at managing my temper, but it will never be tamed.

It was her way of assuaging her guilt for not being able to go to the cops about it. Ivy didn’t want to put Ben back in Conrad’s line of fire, and neither did I. We both feel a responsibility to protect him now that Tim’s no longer here to watch over him. We thought it best not to disturb a sleeping giant by going after Ryan directly and having any more dealings with the Price family.

Especially since the prosecution wanted to make an example out of Ryan when his trial came up, asking and receiving the maximum five-year sentence for his assault charge. The jury had no problem convicting him when other girls from Glendale High came forward to testify against him. It seems that Ivy and Ben weren’t the only ones he’d set out to victimize. Once it became known that Ryan would be locked up for the foreseeable future, Ben’s spirits started to rally.

I step back and watch him carry a chair out of the back of the U-Haul and into the cabin. He’s sturdy and dependable to the core. The Penn State football team has a bye week this weekend, so he came home to help us move in. He didn’t have to, but he said he wanted to. We’re all glad to see that he’s doing so much better now and how well he adjusted to college life. It’s good to have him back. We certainly miss him around the garden center, no one more than Will, but somehow the two of them are making a go of it. Will even attended a frat party with him as one of his ‘friends.’ They’re still keeping their relationship quiet on account of the jock culture Ben’s immersed in, but I hope that one day they’ll be able to publicly acknowledge what they have together. They better each other, strengthen each other, and if that’s not the meaning of true love, I don’t know what is.

And Will has been a pretty kick-ass godfather. I catch a glimpse of him cradling Natalie in his arms as Ivy runs by him with a box full of baby clothes. I made Ivy stick to our agreement of our Saturday night dates, even though she never wants to leave Natalie’s side. Will helped me convince her by offering to babysit for us during those few precious hours when we get to spend some alone time together. No matter how devoted a mother she’s become, we both need it. Fooling around in my childhood bed with my parents sleeping on the other side of the wall has been a definite buzzkill when it comes to our sex life. It hasn’t been easy living under the same roof, especially considering how loud Ivy can get when I’m doing things to her. Let’s just say the wildlife on those back country roads has gotten an earful from the front seat of my truck on many a Saturday night.

“Are you ready to break for lunch?” my mom asks, lugging over a cooler and a giant picnic basket. “I have fried chicken in here and some coleslaw, two of your favorites.”

“Sounds good, Mom,” I reply, putting down the lamp I was carrying to help her set up. “I know you’re going to miss cooking for a small army.”

“Yeah, but Will will probably be over most nights anyway since he doesn’t have much of a kitchen in that one-room apartment in town,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “And I kind of like having him around. He’s not afraid to pitch in.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid that Ivy and I are more of a hindrance when it comes to preparing meals. You’re better off with Will,” I chuckle as he comes over and starts rooting through Natalie’s diaper bag for her bottle.

“You’re pretty domesticated now yourself, for a former mountain man,” he jokes, unscrewing the lid on the bottle.

“He’ll always be my wild man,” Ivy replies, reaching up to give me a quick peck on the cheek before scooping Natalie out of Will’s arms.

“I could’ve fed her,” Will protests, annoyed at being deprived of his goddaughter’s company.

“I know, but Ben’s only here until tomorrow. So go spend some time with him,” Ivy implores. “I’ve got this.”

“That’s right, old man,” Ben chides, coming up behind him. “Why don’t we take our plates and head down the trail over there. I bet the view is spectacular once you get to the clearing.”

“It is,” my dad concurs, giving him a friendly pat on the arm as he strolls by, grabbing a drumstick out of the container before ripping off a piece for Shep.

“I’ll never get him to eat dog food again, thanks to you,” I grumble good-naturedly.

“That’s okay, because knowing the way Shep watches over her, I think he belongs to Natalie now, and not you, and Natalie will forgive me. Won’t you, Nattie girl?” he coos, tickling her toes and making her smile.

“She is the most pleasant baby I ever saw,” my mom chimes in.

“Isn’t she though?” Ivy grins widely, unable to contain her joy. “She exudes nothing but sweetness and light.”

“I beg to differ,” Will shouts back from the tree line, overhearing us. “Have you ever changed one of her diapers?”

He shakes his head, following Ben into the woods, and we all start cracking up. Natalie has no idea what he just said, but she starts laughing, too. And pretty soon, Shep starts howling for more chicken.

It’s crazy. It’s chaotic. But my heart swells inside my chest because it’s exactly what I always wanted—laughter, family, and a whole lot of love.

***

Even though we’re dead tired from emptying boxes and putting a restless baby to bed, it’s still our first Saturday night in our new home, and I intend to make it one to remember.

I peek over at Natalie fast asleep in her crib next to our bed. She still looks so small nestled against her pink blanket, seemingly swallowed up by it. My heart constricts at how fragile she is, but I know deep within burns a gentle yet determined spirit. She’s beaten the odds, overcoming every obstacle set in her path. She wasn’t expected to crawl at nine months like most other babies do, but she is. She’s kept Ivy and me on our toes as she scampers around with Shep following her every move. He’s curled up at the base of her crib now, keeping watch over her, the two of them having bonded the moment we brought her home from the hospital.

“Is everyone asleep?” Ivy asks, stifling a yawn as she turns out the light in the bathroom.

She’s in one of my t-shirts and nothing else. It falls well below her knees, but it’s white, leaving little to the imagination. I roll off the side of the bed and grab the two wine glasses I have sitting on the end table, tucking the bottle of champagne under my arm.

“Will you join me on the balcony, Mrs. Young?” I bow in front of her, and the glasses clink between my fingers.

“What about Natalie?” Ivy steps past me to look over my shoulder.

“Shep will alert us if she wakes up,” I reassure her. “C’mon. We’ll only be right outside the door.”

“But it’s a strange house, and if she tries to climb out of her crib and we’re not here—” Ivy protests, getting flustered.

“Ivy, has she ever gotten out of her crib?” I question her gently.

“No, but—” she pouts, not wanting to give in.

“After all of the fresh air she got today, she’s out like a light.” I slide open the door that leads out to the balcony, unwilling to take no for an answer.

Our daughter is fine. It just takes Ivy a little longer to realize that sometimes. She’s overprotective because she loves her so much, and it’s up to me to remind her when it’s okay to relax.

The night air feels a tad chilly against my skin, so I grab a blanket off the bed before hoisting Ivy over my shoulder. She shrieks, wriggling against me.

“Shhh,” I warn her. “Don’t wake the baby.”

I slide her down the length of my body, savoring every delectable inch of her before seating her on my lap and wrapping the blanket around us.

“Shall I do the honors?” I tease her, reaching for the handle of the corkscrew I already have in place.

“No, let me,” she jumps in, popping it off, and it comes gushing out. “Quick, give me a glass!” she squeals as the champagne runs down her legs.

She fills both glasses, handing me one as it bubbles and fizzes over the rim. She’s about to take a sip when I lower her hand, causing her to look at me quizzically.

“You know how I feel about alcohol, but tonight I’m willing to make an exception,” she replies, raising an eyebrow in my direction. “I’m allowed. I’m not breastfeeding.”

“That’s not it,” I murmur, my voice deepening as I gaze at her in the glow of the harvest moon. “I want to make a toast. The one I didn’t get to make at our wedding.”

She falls silent, staring at me with those eyes whose pools of green I could so willingly get lost in. I feel so alive, so present. Being near her heightens my senses as I breathe in the soft citrus scent of her hair and exult over the softness of her skin as her bare leg brushes against mine. She’s everything I could ever want. She’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

“To broken-down cars and little black dresses.” I watch as the corners of her mouth turn up. “To sex in the greenhouse and more showers together.” This gets her to giggle as she glances up at me through her lashes. “To waking up next to you and making more babies.”

“Eric!” She slides her legs around my waist to look me in the eye. “To us,” she whispers, tapping her glass to mine.

“To us,” I reply, my voice steady and sure.

Because I know without a shadow of a doubt that when life feels this right, you just have to enjoy it.

Message from the Author

I really hate talking about myself. My goal is to have the shortest author bio imaginable. I would much rather have a conversation with my readers.

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BOOK: Hold Me Tight
10.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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