Rocked & Romanced, page 58
“David, you don’t have to knock. This is your home. You are always welcome, announced or not, but keep in mind, I know you are coming most of the time.”
“I can tell.” I laugh as I swoop Adam in my arms and head inside. I help Ivy put the kids to bed, and Brian and Kevin come home just as we are sitting down on the couch.
“So, I have good news.”
Ivy’s face gets so hopeful that I almost wonder if she already knows.
“I found a way to take care of you and the kids.”
“David, we have everything we need.”
“I know, but I can’t explain it. There is this need to take care of you three and any future kids we may have. They will never be tied to the Miller name or legacy, and I feel like they are getting gypped because of it. Come on, I want to show you something.”
I pull her into our bedroom. Brian and Kevin follow but stop at the door.
“Umm, is this some sexy ‘got to show you’? Because we need a ten-minute head start to get downstairs,” Brian asks.
I laugh. “Come on.”
I walk over to my footlocker. “Remember when I asked you about the footlocker? It’s because it drew my eyes. It looks just like the one I had in the Army, scratch on the side and all. I opened it and look.” I show them the small D. Miller in the corner, and all three gasp.
“But it belonged to my grandparents!”
“Because I was up there a few months ago and gave it to them with instructions to pass it down to one of their grandkids but not tell them it was mine, knowing they will only have one, you.”
“David, that may be so. Now it just means so much more to me, and I could never get rid of it.”
“I know, sweet girl, but did you know it has a false bottom?”
I see the confusion on her face, so I know she didn’t. I start to pull out the items she has in there and then pull out the false bottom.
“Knowing you had it and about the bottom, I filled it with some things after I talked to Brian last time I was here.”
I pull out some signed records, a letter to my son, and the missing gold record album that no one could track down. It included a letter addressed to Ivy’s grandparents, thanking them for their hospitality, advice, and home cooking. The names are a bit smudged and no last names were used, so this will eliminate any doubt about why it has gone missing.
I hear three gasps behind me when I pull out the gold record.
“David, is that… is that the missing record?” Ivy whispers.
“Yes, with a letter to your grandparents. Names smudged with no last name as to why I gave it to them. Well, the public reason.”
I made sure to smudge the names so if the letter gets in the hands of the public, it can’t be traced back to Ivy.
“If Ivy shows up with that anywhere, the press will surround her and dig into her and her family, the kids, us,” Brian says with his eyes still on the record.
“I figured, so I have a plan for that too.”
“Care to share it with us?” Kevin asks.
I place the items back and close up the footlocker. “Let’s go to the living room.”
As we sit down, I pull Ivy onto my lap, needing her close.
“I need you guys to trust me on this. My son is getting a letter right now from the trust of the estate. It explains who I gave the album to and why, which will match up to the letter in the footlocker. It says not to ask questions but to come to this address. He will buy the items from you and place them in the museum, and it will be listed as an anonymous source who found it in their grandparents’ things they were going through after they died.”
“He’s going to have questions, and what if he remembers me!”
I laugh. “Ivy, he’s five now. Was four when you saw him last.” I shake my head. “He’s how old now? In his fifties? You think he’s going to remember you?”
“He’s fifty-seven, and I guess not.” She sighs.
“See, trust me, I’ve thought this out. You will see. Now tell me everything I have missed.”
We talk and chat the rest of the night before I take Ivy to bed and make up for lost time.
The rest of my time in 2019 seems to fly by. I fall into a routine helping with the kids, meals, nap times, bath times, bedtimes, and hours of making love to Ivy.
I find out the house being built down the street is Brian and David’s in preparation for me coming to live here. This way, they’ll be close, but they give us our space. I hear Adam will be starting kindergarten in September, so I make plans to come back to be here for that. I am so excited that it is a first I get to see in person. I’m sure my dad will want to be there for that as well, so we plan to make that happen.
I will be finishing up my last tour. No one knows it’s my last, but it will be. I made sure I will be home working on my next album during August of 1969. I am making plans and wrapping things up. It’s weird to plan your own fake death, hoping it won’t be your real one, but as I watch my kids dance to one of my songs, I know it’s the right move for them and me.
Chapter 27
Ivy
A week after David heads home, I hear a knock on my door. I don’t think about it, but when I see a grown-up fifty-seven-year-old Scott on the other side, my eyes go wide. He looks so much like his dad and what I picture his dad to look like at that age. Not to mention, he’s well known in this town for all his charity work.
“Scott.” I smile and watch him force a smile. I can tell he’s uncomfortable. Heck, so am I now. “Come in, let’s sit.”
He’s quiet for a minute before he speaks. “What’s your name?”
I’m shocked for a minute because I had assumed he knew. “Ivy.”
I watch him nod, then he holds out a piece of paper. “This was left by my dad in his trust for me. I got it just over a week ago.”
I take the letter and read it. It’s just like David has said—he gave the items to my grandparents as thanks for everything they did for him. They were passed down to their only living relative, their granddaughter, me. There is a whole section about how to handle the purchase, so it keeps my family and me out of it, and money has already been set aside for the purchase. There is even a section stating that I am to keep the footlocker and instructions on what to do if at any time I wish to sell it to the museum.
By the time I am done reading the letter, I have tears running down my face. I run a hand over the letter, handwritten by David. I’d recognize his handwriting anywhere. I take a deep breath and hand it back to Scott and wipe my face.
“Is it true? Do you have the missing record?” he asks gently.
I nod. “Yes, and a few other items that were with it.”
“How did my dad know it would be at this address? This is his handwriting. I know it.”
I look at my hands in my lap. “I don’t know. Maybe he assumed my family would stay in this area.”
He looks out the window but doesn’t push the subject. I take in this man across from me and try to reconcile him with the four-year-old boy I played tractors with just nine short months ago.
“You have the footlocker too?” he asks.
When I nod, he continues, “Can I see it?”
“Yeah, it’s in my room.” I stop at the foot of the stairs and listen, thankful Adam and Clara are napping, then lead him to my room to show him the footlocker.
He pulls out a photo and looks from the photo to the locker.
“It has the same scratch down the side.” He compares them.
“That's what he said,” I say without thinking.
“Who said?” Scott asks.
I just smile and shake my head. I open the footlocker and show him where it says D. Miller.
“I never noticed that growing up. My grandma kept blankets in here, so I’d go in and get a blanket and not think about it. They never told me anything about it other than it would be mine someday. My grandpa was in the Army, so I always assumed it was his footlocker and never thought to ask.”
I pull everything out and pull open the false bottom like David showed me and start to pull everything out and hand it to Scott. He reads the letter, and then I hand him the record, and I see a slight tremble in his hand. I can understand what he is feeling. After David left, I spent a whole night holding it, just looking at this record. I tried to understand what it means that it was sitting here in my house, in my grandparents’ house, long before I even met David. That I touched this footlocker as a little girl, and it was David’s.
My head hurt before I finally made it to bed because it doesn’t make sense. None of it does from the footlocker, to how I was named after Ivy Hill, but Ivy Hill was named after me. How do you explain that other than this was meant to happen? I’m not changing history. I’m following history. If I never went back, it would have changed everything.
I focus on Scott and see tears running down his face. “My dad and I weren’t ever close; that's my mom’s fault. But being able to preserve his legacy makes me feel closer to him.” He looks up, and I can’t hide my anger fast enough.
“Why do you get that look when I talk about my mom?”
I sigh. I know I’m a horrible liar, so I go for a version of the truth. “I just don’t like her.”
“Ever meet her?”
“Yes.”
He laughs. “Then you know not many people like her, but a lot of them sure do suck up to her, thinking she can do something for them.”
“She hasn’t changed much then.” Dammit, I need to watch my mouth.
Thankfully, Scott looks at me a bit weird but doesn’t question it.
“I’d like to do a showcase at Ivy Hill. It’s coming up on the sixtieth anniversary of when my dad came home from his Army tour. Would you be willing to loan the footlocker for the exhibit?”
Just talking about the day David came back from France has the tears flowing again. I hide my face in my hands, not that it will hide all those emotions. The moment his eyes locked with mine, the relief of holding him after two years, the heartbreak of that night talking about Anna, and how it all led to him proposing and our wedding.
I remember that day looking out at the memorial garden realizing how hard it was to be away for those two years and then the four years while he was married to Anna. But I knew he was alive, and I’d have him in my arms again. How will I ever get out of bed and put one foot in front of the other if David is really in the ground at Ivy Hill? Then the thought of that being him sends a new wave of tears.
Scott mistakes my breakdown for him asking to showcase the footlocker and places a hand on my arm, which seems to sober me instantly.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I asked.” I wipe my face on my sleeve and make a note to change my shirt later. I look at my hands and rub my wedding rings.
“That’s not it, Scott. I’d be more than honored to have the footlocker shown in the museum. That footlocker is attached to so many memories that I have kept pushed down for so long, and they have just come to the surface in light of all this.”
He takes my hand and looks at my rings. “My dad had a ring just like this that he wore up to the day he died. Even while he was married to my mom. It made her so mad when someone talked about it. My dad left strict instructions he was to be buried with that ring on. I’ve seen pictures, and it looks exactly like that.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. Someone special gave it to me. We made promises to each other, and as long as those promises aren’t broken, I wear this ring.”
We head back to the living room and work out the details of the sale. We are talking for a few hours when Brian and Kevin come home.
“Ivy! Are Adam and Clara up yet? We got them the cutest outfit… Shit,” Brian says when he sees Scott.
“Scott, this is my best friend and family, Brian, and his husband, Kevin. They live here and help me with my kids.”
Scott is looking at me as though he is trying to work out a puzzle. “Clara was my great-grandma’s name. And Adam was my dad’s middle name.”
I nod. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I’m trying out a new street taco recipe. It’s what I do. I tweak recipes, then photograph them and all.”
“I’d like that,” Scott says with a smile. I know the longer he stays here, the more of a risk it is, but it just feels right.
“I’ll go get the kids up from their nap.” Brian heads upstairs, followed by Kevin, and a few minutes later, the kids come running downstairs.
They stop when they see Scott, and Adam stares at him before he smiles. “You look like my dad, older though. Do you know my dad?”
My heart stops, and Brian looks at me, but it’s Kevin who saves the day.
“No, little man, he doesn’t know your dad,” Kevin says, and Adam shrugs and runs off to play.
The rest of the evening goes smoothly. And there are lots of laughs and stories. Scott tells us about David, and some about Anna but lots about his grandpa teaching him about the business and how they set up Ivy Hill and funny stories.
When he’s getting ready to leave, he turns to me.
“Listen, this might sound weird, but I don’t have family in my life. I'm sure you know I don’t speak to my mother unless I have to. Or when she wants something. Being here felt like home. I know it’s weird, but I’d like to stay friends. Your family meant something to my dad. I don’t know why, but it’s a thin connection to him.”
“Scott, you are welcome any time. I just ask to keep us out of the spotlight. I don’t want the attention—things like loaning the footlocker. I don’t want my name for the public to see. But we can hang out here at any time.”
He laughs. “I normally have to worry about people only wanting to be around me to get in the spotlight, but you want nothing to do with it. It’s refreshing. Thank you again.”
We exchange phone numbers before he leaves. No sooner does the door close than the tears start pouring down my face. Brian and Kevin wrap me in a hug.
“I’m a horrible person. I have his brother and sister right here, and I can’t tell him. He has no family who cares, and with any luck, his dad will be here in a few years, and I can’t tell him. He is clinging to me for a slim thread to his dad, but little does he know how big of one I could give him. I could tell him so much about his dad. About how much he loves him. All the things his mom lied about.”
“Ivy, do you think he’d believe you? You are doing what's right. Maybe David could write a journal or letters for his son, and you can find them in more of your grandparents’ things. But otherwise, this is the best you can do.”
I know he’s right, but that doesn’t soothe my heart or my guilt.
Chapter 28
Ivy
It’s been a month since Scott was at the house for the first time, but he’s been back twice and is always happy to tell stories over dinner about his time at Ivy Hill. He says he doesn’t get to the house much because of all the paperwork at his office in the museum across the street. But he has been working on the exhibit to show off David’s time in the Army.
I am putting the kids down for a nap when I hear someone at the door. I know Brian will get it, so I take my time putting Clara to bed and snuggle with her a bit. The more I think about the museum and the possibility of a life without David, the more I think I need to cuddle these little pieces of him, and they love it as much as I do.
I head downstairs to find Scott. He is studying me closely, and it makes me a bit uncomfortable.
“Hey, Scott, is everything okay?”
“I’d like to show you something at Ivy Hill if you have time this afternoon.”
I look over at Brian. “Oh, I have the kids. Go, Ivy!”
On the drive over to Ivy Hill, I remember when I brought David here and start to see it a bit through his eyes. I see our Ivy Hill from 1967, not the museum it is now. It feels like coming home.
We make our way to the house, and people stop Scott to talk about this or that, but as we walk through the front door, I see it with all new eyes. Having sections blocked off and people touring it is just weird. I see our nights on the couch watching TV, I see David practicing music on the piano, I see Helen and James eating dinner with us at the dining room table, and my eyes start to water.
I turn to act like I am looking at the stained glass roses to get my emotions in order before looking back at Scott, who is watching me.
I smile. “I love roses. The stained glass there has always been my favorite.”
“So, you have been here before?”
“Oh, I’ve toured it many times. Brian got me an annual membership for my birthday because I love the house so much.”
“Come on, I want to show you something upstairs.”
He opens the stairs, and I hesitate. The upstairs is blocked off to the public. The family says it’s because David died up there, so it’s a private area. Will it look the same? Will I be able to keep my emotions in check? What if this has to do with his mother?
I offer a timid smile and follow him up the stairs and down the hall to David's room, our room. He opens the door and stands to the side. I slowly walk up to the doorway and have to lean against the doorjamb for support. I couldn’t stop the tears in my eyes this time if I tried. I see the bed and knowing he died there brings tears to my eyes thinking he could have truly died here, and I still don’t know.
I’m shaken from my thoughts when Scott speaks. “I had a feeling you’d been here before.”
My eyes snap to his, and he is watching me. “Go look.” He nods toward the room.
On shaky legs, I take a few steps into what I know as David’s and my bedroom. Not much has changed since the last time I saw it. I guess I expected him to get rid of all of this before that day in August. Knowing this has been here all this time while I was walking around downstairs all these years is enough to blow my mind.
I take in the photos crowding the nightstand and walk over to take a look. Most of them match mine; the birthday cake one is still front and center. There is also the one with us and the kids that Brian took. It starts to sink in that Scott has to have seen all these. I look around the room and, on the wall, across from the bed, is the wood sign I gave him on our wedding day surrounded by photos of us, including the one on our wedding day and one from our honeymoon. There are a few new photos of myself and David that I don’t recognize. It’s an odd feeling seeing yourself having done something you have yet to do. It’s a feeling I’m sure David is familiar with by now.
