Page 11 of Clint & Ivy

“I work, dingus. Your retired ass should be cooking.”

“You said I’m a bad cook.”

“Try harder.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”

“I’m hanging up now,” I told them, since they seemed more interested in flirting with each other than figuring out my situation. “Send me a list of food you want tomorrow.”

Once my parents had something new to busy themselves with, I ended the call and turned to find Ivy.

She looked different without the fussy skirt and top. The shiny black church shoes also gave her a slight lift. Now, in only socks, she seemed shorter. Elle’s clothes fit as poorly as I expected. Ivy had a sloppy yet comfortable appearance.

“You look beautiful,” I said, sensing she needed praise. “Are you hungry?”

Though Ivy shook her head, I walked her to the fridge. “If I don’t have what you want, we can order it.”

Her gaze noticed what I was drinking. Reaching for a bottle of raspberry lemonade kombucha in the fridge, Ivy acted overly nervous about a simple drink. As soon as she took a sip, I knew she didn’t like the flavor.

“What do you think?” I asked, wearing a grin as she struggled with hiding how she wasn’t a fan.

“What is this?”

“Kombucha. It’s a healthy drink. I have other stuff in the fridge, but I like to drink it after a long ride.”

Ivy stared at me, refusing to admit she didn’t like the drink. She even attempted to take another sip. I swiped the can from her hand and shook my head.

“My life is full of people who don’t like what I like,” I explained when she seemed startled by my gesture. “I don’t want you to pretend you like my shit.”

“I’m not used to making my own choices.”

“If you need someone to think for you, I can do that. But I sense you just need to learn to take what you want. Is it really so difficult to say, ‘Clint, I think your drink tastes like ass. Can I have something else?”

Ivy grinned shyly at my wording, but her gaze flashed to my open fridge.

“I like soda,” she said, zeroing in on the cola in the door. “I wasn’t supposed to drink it. My mom always had me worried about eating or drinking the wrong things. But I like soda.”

Handing her the drink, I studied her excited expression. “We’re strangers, but I know I want you. That means, I’ll need to adjust to your needs, just like you’ll need to adjust to mine.”

“Is that how it works in relationships?” Ivy asked, sipping the drink and shuddering with pleasure. “I thought people were supposed to have a lot in common.”

“I believe finding someone that clicks is more important than finding someone with the same interests. My parents have been together for more than thirty years, and they still break into random arguments over if Lynyrd Skynyrd is a better band than Journey. They might like different stuff, but they’re willing to bend enough for each of them to be happy.”

Ivy drank more of the soda before looking around. I wished I could crawl inside her head and see the world from her eyes. I rarely met new people. Ideally, Ivy and I could sit down and hash out our life stories until she was no longer a mystery.

Instead, I had only a few minutes before Elle arrived. “My sister is on her way over with my dog. I leave Hanzee at my parents’ place when I’m out of town.”

Ivy tilted her head and frowned. “You were coming back from a trip when we met.”

“Yeah, my club brother is in a Missouri county jail on bullshit charges. I drive there and visit him every few weekends,” I said, and instantly wondered what I would do with Ivy during my next trip. “Anyway, my dog can’t stay in the condo alone, so my sister takes care of him. Elle lives at my parents’ place with her son. You’ll meet everyone tomorrow.”

Ivy immediately lost her casual stance and went stiff. She glanced at the door and inhaled sharply.

“What if I embarrass you?”

“Let’s make this quick,” I said and took her hand. After pausing to enjoy the feel of her soft skin, I explained, “My sister is probably already in the garage, so I need you to focus on what matters right now. Don’t let her rattle you. She’s got a big mouth, but she isn’t a threat. She is just here to get gossip for our parents. I’d suggest you relax and think about how one day she’ll be your friend.”

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

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