The mid-morning light pressed against the flimsy bedroom drapes. The dust had settled on them like powdery snow on the lilting arms of a pine tree, destined to go undisturbed for the long, lonely season behind those four dreary wooden walls. She sat there, alone in her big queen-sized bed, propped up against the headboard, her face pale and flush, and her bangs let to run wild down her forehead. Her eyes were hollow in their gaze. Suddenly, there came a rapid knocking on the door.
"Ivy," she heard someone calling from the outside.
"Erhem, come in," she replied, clearing her throat. The doorknob rattled, and then in came her bubbly four year old half-sister.
"Ivy, you're still in bed?" she whined. Her brother came crashing in behind her.
"I'm not a morning person, what can I say?" she grumbled.
"Come pick flowers," she chirped.
"Nuh-uh, she wants to come play with bugs!" her half-brother asserted.
"Well, why can't we do both, Thomas? I'm sure there will be bugs where the flowers are."
"But that's for girls!" he groaned.
"Newsflash, genius, Natalie and I are girls. And you know what I say?" she declared, sweeping one foot from under the covers and placing it on the floor. "I say we girls can go pick some flowers if we want to, play with some bugs if we want to, maybe I'm in the mood to do some huntin' too!"
"Aw! Can I come, too!"
She peered at him over her shoulder, with a sly grin crawling across her face. "I didn't say boys could come."
"Haha!" screamed Natalie.
Thank goodness for her younger siblings, she thought. They made her forget she was lonely, and made her insides too warm to know of the cold that their cheerful smiles and laughter kept at bay. Ivy sat on the porch watching Thomas chase Natalie around with a caterpillar he picked up.
"They are just the joy of this world, aren't they?" The voice belonged to Cassidy, who sat down on the porch beside her. Ivy smiled in silent agreement.
"There's just something about the innocence and care-free nature of children," Ivy sighed. "They just make you forget all your troubles. And you'd give just about anything just to see the world again the way they do."
Cassidy perked up, squinting keenly at Ivy as she looked her up and down. "You got baby fever, darlin'?"
"WHAT! No!" Ivy exploded, her cheeks red as tomatoes.
"You sure? I'm not your mom, but as a woman I can sense these things, it's okay to tell me—"
"Cass, why do you always do that?"
"Do what?"
"I dunno, like, you always qualify our relationship. Like, 'I mean, I know I'm not your real mom,' or whatever. It's like a stupid barrier you put up all the time."
"I don't know, I just didn't want you to feel like I was intruding. How long have you felt like this, Ivy?"
"I dunno, it's just, I dunno, forget it, it's not that big of a deal. Whatever," she muttered with a testy shrug.
The two women sat in silence for awhile. "Put yourself in my shoes, woulda ya?" Cassidy finally said. "When it comes to you and your father, I don't ask questions. With a lot of things, I just don't ask questions. I mean, who am I to you, really? You and your father go through these horrible times together, and he raised you to be so strong. And then here comes lil' old me, who's just, I don't know, this plain, regular woman. I knew who your father was when we first started dating, but, I believed he was a good man— I still do. For all the bad things he's done, I know that he's a man that when I look in his eyes, I know what I am to him. I know that he's a man that loves me with his whole heart. I know he does because I see how he loves you. So, if I was to offer you any motherly advice for this stage of your life—well, motherly advice I feel like I'm qualified to give, I don't know how to fire a six-shooter or rob a bank, sorry—then I would tell you to find someone who looks at you the way your father looks at you and me. And while you know there's no man alive that could love you as much as your daddy does, a man willing to give you his whole heart is a rare find, indeed."
Ivy peered into Cassidy's honest, unwavering eyes as she searched for the meaning of her words. Cassidy offered a gentle hand on her arm, and with steely confidence in her voice, she commanded, "so...say it."
"'Say it?'"
"Say you want to see that boy again."
"Cassidy, I—"
"Uh-uh, there's no hiding from your feelings, dear. Just say it."
"I wanna..." she meekly whimpered. "I wanna see him." Her heart was bolder now. "I wanna see Caleb!"
"Then go to him," Cassidy whispered with a delighted smirk. "Go. Don't worry, I'll handle your father. He'll listen to me." Ivy threw her arms around Cassidy, who received her wholeheartedly, petting her fluffy golden hair and nuzzling her cheek against Ivy's.
"Thank you, Cass. Thank you so much!" She raced up the back stairs to pack the few things she thought she needed. In her excited state, she was back down the steps and ready to bolt within ten minutes.
Ivy thrust the front door open, pausing under the threshold to let her lungs take in the warm country air one last time. With her bag of supplies hoisted over her shoulder, she raced down the steps of the front porch. A shadow in the corner of her eye, made her stop in her tracks.
There he was, sitting in an old wooden chair, bent over at the waist cleaning his gun. With longing in her eyes she stared at his face hidden beneath the large brim of his hat. His eyes wouldn't meet his daughter's.
"Dad."
He shook his head. "G'on now," he said tersely. "G'on before I regret letting you leave."
"I love you, Dad," she cried, her face twisting and turning red.
"I said 'go,'" he barked. Ivy said nothing more. She turned away and started running again to the car. He listened to the engine roar, and the sound of the tires gnawing at the gravel, until finally, she was gone.
So finally, he whispered, "I love you more, baby girl."