Honey Lips | ✓

Chapter Four

Sundays always had been a sacred day for Ivy. This time though, she was jittery like her nerves had been splattered against the wall in an abstract form of art. Her restless night of tossing and turning was to blame and she couldn't get her mind to break out of an endless cycle of thoughts. Friday night played on repeat, every time she blinked she saw his face.

Claire was seemingly oblivious to what was actually running through Ivy's head and didn't question her when she ran off the moment the show came to an end with the lame excuse of not feeling well. Part of her couldn't understand why she was reacting the way she was, she didn't know who he was, she spoke her mind freely and that didn't bother him. The other part of her understood perfectly why she was reacting this way, she was taken off guard and she hated it.

Six o'clock on the dot, she untangled her legs out of her sheets and rolled out of bed. She adjusted the comforter in a half attempt to make her bed and gave up soon after, vowing that she'd deal with it later with the knowledge that she'll completely forget. It was uncommon for her to lounge in her bed until the noon hours, her restlessness just couldn't take it.

Most of the time she busied herself by taking her mother's housework and doing it herself but that particular Sunday she found that there was nothing for her to do. Between working two jobs, her mother must've done the chores or her sister decided to help out though that was unlikely. Her mother was rarely home but tried to have at least one day off if not once a week then every second week.

Double checking that there was nothing for her to do in the house, Ivy tied her hair — that had returned to its curly state — back with a bandana and went out the front door. She tended to the vegetable garden she grew mostly by herself. The patch was modest to say the least and she often dreamt about having a hard with enough space to make even a farmer proud. If she couldn't unwind by playing an instrument, a little gardening did her well. Dirt under her nails and mud on random spots on her face was her second go-to to clearing her head and this time was no different. The raging storm in her mind calmed as she dug her fingers into the damp ground, the earthy scent welcoming her.

She emptied the watering can's contents over the variety of growing vegetables and returned the can to their small shed at the back of the house. Rounding the house, she placed her hands on her hips and gazed down at the garden. Had they not lived in a small town where there was little to none crime, Ivy would've been concerned about having the little garden path at the front of the house near the street. But other than the random critter or annoying insect, her vegetables were completely safe.

A laugh slipped past her lips and she rubbed her forehead, she felt incredibly foolish that she had worried about someone actually trying to steal their growing greens. She knew she had good reason to be untrusting of the human population but she'd rather not breach that topic.

Back inside she quickly found the clock perched on the wall of the hallway and sighed when she noted that only twenty minutes had passed since she first took a look at the time. For once when she actually would've been excited to go to work was a time that the store was closed. Oh the joys of life.

Ivy found her mother dozing off on the couch in the living room and a smile formed on her face as she took in Judith Miller's relaxed features. In her sleep the woman of forty eight could easily look ten years younger. Usual stress lines that decorated her face were nowhere in sight and her thin hair was free from the confines of her regular bun.

A pang of pain hit her chest and the smile faltered, her mother didn't deserve to have the constant thunder cloud of worrying looming above her head. Had Ivy been smarter then she could have figured out a plan to ensure that they'd have a good life. Sure, she made sacrifices yet the voice in her head persisted, it wasn't enough, she should've done more. If only the determination to follow her dreams hadn't died.