Page 28 of Pumped

“You want to go home?”

“Can—can we get ice cream?” She blinks her big, blue eyes at me. The picture of innocence.

I can’t help but chuckle, squeezing my eyes shut as emotion makes them prickle with tears. Of course Ivy would try to negotiate a benefit out of this situation. She wouldn’t be Ivy if she didn’t. Maybe she’ll be alright after all.

“One scoop in a cup.” I open with a lowball offer.

“Two scoops in a waffle cone.” She counters, completely unfazed.

“One scoop in a plain cone.”

She twists her lips to the side as she considers how far she can push her luck.

I sweeten the deal. “And chicken nuggets for dinner?”

She gasps softly, eyes going wide in surprise. “Really?”

I smile because, little does she know, I’ve researched the healthiest chicken nuggets money can buy in the tri-state area. They’re still disgusting, but at least the meat is supposed to be organic. There’s a box tucked deep inside the freezer, hidden by the frozen veggies so Everest doesn’t find them.

“Really.”

“With ketchup?” There’s a hopeful spark in her eyes and the worry that had felt so suffocating eases a little.

“With ketchup,” I confirm. Especially since the ketchup I’ve stocked in the kitchen is homemade from a farmstead upstate. I’m going to sneak in as much healthy food into her diet as I possibly can.

“Okay!”

I laugh as Ivy grabs her coat and stuffs her arms into them. Then she pulls on her backpack all by herself. I pick her up again and we set out.

“What flavor of ice cream do you want?” I ask, shifting her weight a little. Everest is usually the one who carries her around, while I’m all about making her walk on her own. But if there’s any day to make an exception, it’s today.

She makes some thinking sounds before announcing, “Bubblegum.”

I throw up a little bit in my mouth, but I infuse as much enthusiasm into my voice as I can. “Yummy!”

She rests her head against mine and her short arms wind around my neck. It never ceases to amaze me how fast time flies.It feels like only yesterday I was holding her in the hospital, all swaddled up in a blanket, but it’s been six years. Six years. So long and yet far too short. She still has so much of her life ahead of her. She still has so much to learn and experience. And Jeremy and Eden won’t be here to see any of it.

I hold her close. The weight of her pressed against me is bittersweet, filled with sadness, but also the reassurance that we’re both still here. Together.

Ivy starts to wriggle the second the ice cream parlor comes into view, and when I set her down just inside the door, she races to the counter.

“One scoop of bubblegum ice cream in a plain cone, please!”

I order myself a single scoop of salted caramel in a cup and we settle into a table by the window. Ivy digs into her ice cream like she’s starving, getting the sticky stuff all over her face. I fight back a cringe and sigh internally, wishing I had Ivy’s go-bag on me. I keep it stocked with snacks, a couple small toys, and a very essential box of wipes.

Ivy is well on her way to becoming a human ice cream cone when she stops. A pensive expression comes across her face. “Is there ice cream in heaven, Uncle O?”

The question startles me into stillness, with my hand hovering halfway between my ice cream cup and my mouth. There can only be one reason for her to be asking about heaven, and that’s not a topic I really want to talk about at the moment. “Um, uh, I… probably?”

Ivy’s mouth twists to the side as she thinks. “Daddy doesn’t like ice cream, but Mommy loves it, like me. She said that we can’t have too much ice cream, because then it won’t taste as good anymore. But, it’s different in heaven, right? She can have all the ice cream she wants?” Ivy lifts hopeful eyes at me, leaving me completely at a loss for what to say.

I don’t know whether there’s a heaven. I’m not sure I believe in one. The scientist in me suspects that when we pass, our bodies decompose and our consciousness vanishes. But for this little girl, for Jeremy and Eden, I pray to whatever god or deity or higher power that exists that heaven is real.

“Yeah, I think there’s tons of ice cream, with every flavor in the world,” I say, voice tight with anguish over the loss of the people we love and the loss of Ivy’s innocence at so young an age. “And she can eat as much as she wants without getting a stomachache. Have you ever gotten a stomachache from too much ice cream or candy?”

Ivy shakes her head, surprised and curious at the same time. Knowing Eden, she probably never let Ivy have enough to get that far.

“Do you know why your daddy doesn’t like ice cream?”

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