Black and Blue Ivy

Pain and Relief

The squeals of children's laughter, the crackling of wrapping paper, and the tinkle of bells on the front door holiday wreath when another neighbor made a call, all blended into a cacophony of noise in my ears. Somehow I managed to survive the scowling disapproval of Mrs. Roche when Bentley and I stumbled through the door just in time to join the family for morning mass. Father Joseph's Christmas homily droned on endlessly and the family breakfast afterward was a blur. Only then were the jumping-in-their-skins Robinson children allowed to descend on the enormous, sparkling Christmas tree to dig into the mountain of brightly wrapped gifts. I sank back on my heels, lost amidst the mayhem, and dutifully helped tidy up after each child ripped through the paper and bows. I watched them take in the momentary surprise the gift offered, until the delight faded and the next gift was attacked with equal vigor. This went on and on until there was only a small pile of gifts that remained. Little Aileen padded over to the gifts curiously, hoping to find her name on the tags, but Bentley shoved her away playfully.

"Those gifts are for Ivy," he said and pushed the stack toward me. It was the first time he had made eye contact with me since we'd left the penthouse. I tried to hold his gaze, seeking in his eyes the burning love that had warmed my skin the night before, but I observed only icy coldness before he flicked his glance away and hopped up to freshen Gardenia's drink. As if fulfilling some servile role in a play, he'd been acting extra solicitous toward his stepmother since we arrived home. Was it to placate her anger from us being out all night? She certainly didn't expect us to drive home in a blizzard, did she? I avoided looking at her, but every once in a while, I'd feel the heaviness of her stare descend on me like a stone. Had my transgression made me persona non grata in the Robinson household? Would they be sending me off to some other foster home any moment now? I sighed and watched Bentley refill Gardenia's brandy. He had changed into a new sweater she'd gifted him, a forest green wool that shifted his blue eyes a shade toward emerald. Gardenia certainly knew what clothes flattered her handsome stepson.

"Aren't you going to open your presents, Ivy?" A tiny voice interrupted my bitter revery. I looked up to see Aileen standing before me. Her dark hair hung in two braids trimmed with red velvet ribbons. I blinked back the sudden tears stinging my eyes and with a child's understanding, she gave me a hug before instructing me to open her present first.

Gardenia retreated to the dining room with some of the neighbors where a lavish buffet had been laid; Bentley dutifully followed. I looked around the mess of toys that children had already lost interest in. The money lavished on these children was astronomical, I thought as I carefully peeled back the wrapping paper too beautiful to rip through. Money, clothes, the best of everything. Everything accept love.

I gasped when I looked down at the gift in my hand. It was Aileen's hand-made water color depicting a girl with short blond hair running across a green lawn with the Robinson's big house looming in the background. It was crudely drawn and almost comical in its depiction, but I loved it. In her child's innocence, she'd captured my world. Maybe I should run away before it's too late.

I gave Aileen another hug and watched her pad off with the rest of the children to the dining room to sample the tempting treats. The smell of delicious food permeating from the dining room, but I had no appetite. I heard Bentley's laugh at someone joke and marveled at how he could act so normal. Maybe it was only my heart that had been torn asunder. Forlorn and lost, I stayed behind and opened each gift. There were hand-made art items from the older children, which I was sure had been composed under Angela's tutelage. The last remaining gift was a large, lavishly wrapped box from the Robinsons. I'm sure Mr. Robinson, who had long ago retreated to his den, had never laid eyes on what was inside. I guessed what it was before I opened it: another expensive outfit from Gardenia. What was up with her with and the pastel colors? This one was a sweater dress with a pleated skirt in a pale peach. I'm sure it fit to perfection, but it just wasn't me. I closed the box, stacked my presents in a neat pile, and stood up. A rush of dizziness nearly toppled me over. I hadn't eaten a bite all day, but the thought of food made me nauseous. I'd never felt so lonely, so confused. All my life I'd felt completely deprived of love, and now that I had tasted it and felt it just as quickly snatched away, I could hardly withstand the pain of its absence. I knew Bentley regretted what had happened, that he felt like he'd taken advantage of me, and he was now trying to reset to the way things were before. But how could we ever go back? How could I?