Page 24 of Worth the Rush
Two pink lines.
I stared down at my bathroom counter, and two faint pink lines were looking back at me. What does two mean again? I already knew what it meant, but I grabbed the instructions again anyway. I’d read them seventeen times since I opened the box, but I needed to confirm what I believed was a positive pregnancy result. Pee needs to be in the stream for five seconds…wait three minutes…one means…two means…positive. Fuck. Okay. Okay, okay. Shit. Okay. Tears form in my eyes. Is this something I want? I wipe my face with the back of my hand, and it comes away wet. I press a hand to my stomach.
It’s me and you, sweet babe.
I told him that I didn’t need him. I could raise the baby on my own, but he found a way to gain something from the situation. My life and that of our child became a bargaining chip in my father’s business.
He would marry me to avoid scandal, but my father would have to make him a partner in his company. I shut my eyes at the onslaught of memories that follow. The early months when things weren’t so bad. I was happy, and Noah was content. Thefirst time I smelled another woman in our home. The sudden trip to the hospital. The months of depression. The drinking. The facility, and then finally, our divorce. Thankfully, five years was all that was contracted.
My life became my own again a little over a year ago. Just a few weeks before, Noah humiliated me with a new woman on his arm. I was grateful to be apart from him, but the social circle in which we moved had a field day when the news broke. I had to find out with everyone else. I take a deep, steadying breath and start drafting a new email. I won’t delete this one. I’ll send it and comply with the terms of my father and my agreement. I need something that’s mine, and when I’m the new COO of Rutherford Wine, I’ll finally have that, and I’ll be in a position to start phasing Noah out of my company.
I send my email and sit back in my chair. There. Sent. I still need something else. One more stream of revenue for this place, and I’ll be on my way back home. Home. It may be a stretch of the word to say it’s home, but it’s where my life is. A life filled with things and people who don’t seem to care about the real me at all. I’m really good at surrounding myself with people whose intentions I don’t have to analyze. If I already know that they don’t care, then I never have to worry if they do. Vibrations rumbling through my desk pull me from my very introspective thoughts. Thank God, no one should have to spend time in my brain alone. Even me.
I don’t recognize the number, “Hello?” I answer.
“Hi, is this Ivy?” a sweet voice asks me.
“It is, can I ask who’s calling?”
“Hey, Ivy. Um, it’s Winnie,” she tells me, and I briefly wonder how she got my number, but I chalk it up to being in a small town.
“Hey, Winnie. How’s it going?” I haven’t seen her since last Tuesday, but I was planning on stopping by Thistle and Sage soon.
“It’s going well. I was wondering if you had plans for the weekend. I know Alder was completely out of line the other night, but I swear he’s not normally like that, and I know he’s sorry,” she rushes out, and I don’t really have plans. Well, unless you count finally getting around to reading my book and drinking a few glasses of wine, which I do count as plans, but…
“He did apologize, and I don’t have any big plans, what’s up?”
“The Christmas tree lighting ceremony is happening in town on Saturday, and I wanted you to come and hang out with us—” I bite my lip. I’ve told Alder I don’t need to be spending extra time with him, and I have a feeling he’ll be involved at least marginally. “If you want to. It’s also the winter carnival, so there will be food and activities. They’re actually bringing in an ice-skating rink this year. I’ll probably avoid it, but it’s fun to watch!” she says. I take a moment to contemplate her offer. It does sound fun, and I would like to visit downtown again.
“Sure, I’d love to come,” I agree, and she lets out a small squeal. It’s adorable and makes me giggle. Since when do I giggle?
“Perfect! I can’t wait to see you. If you meet me at my house first, we can walk over together. That way, you won’t have to worry about parking.”
“That sounds great and thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course. Open invitation. You have my number now,” she tells me, and I’m taken aback by how genuine she sounds.
“Thank you. See you Saturday.”
“See you then! Bye!” She hangs up, and I set my phoneback on my desk. I look out the big windows in my office and feel my lips turn up at the corners. I’ve never had a good group of friends. I’ve had people to go out with and people to invite to things, but I don’t remember having real friends. I take in the snowy mountains and the sloped landscape. I look at the gondolas that I still haven’t been on, and Silverthorne grows on me a little more.
Now, it’s time to get back to work. I need to call the few local artists and embroidery shops that I have contact information for and see if they would be interested in designing and producing the clothing and merchandise for the gift shop. I have a to-do list a mile long, but I’m smiling. I’m really enjoying my work here. That’s something I didn’t think I’d ever say.
It’s nearing lunchtime when Jack pops his head into my doorway.
“Hey, Ivy. I was getting ready to get some lunch. Would you like to join me?” he asks with a smile that makes me smile. The whole town is getting more yeses from me than I’ve given in the last year. I don’t remember the last time I was so agreeable, but also, I can feel my blood sugar getting low and a headache trying to set in. It would be better for me to head that off.
“That would be great; I’m running on fumes in here,” I tell him, standing and grabbing my purse.
“How are you settling in?” Jack asks as we walk the hallway of The Edgemont.
“Fine. Good actually. I spent some time with Winnie Parker the other night, and I’m going to the Christmas tree ceremony with her and some of her friends this weekend. People here are really nice,” I say.
He’s nodding and smiling at me. “They are. Silverthorne ispretty much exactly what it seems. People like to help one another, and they really care. That’s a very special thing, and it also means you’ll have plenty of eyes on you and noses in your business,” he tells me with a chuckle.
“I can imagine,” I say, and that’s really all I can do. I don’t have experience with small towns or the people in them. “So, what are you doing when you’re not here?” I ask him.
“Well, I ski, and I like to go snowshoeing, so I’m here on the mountain a lot,” he says with a laugh, and it makes me smile. “But when I’m not here, I’m probably at home. I’m not someone who goes out or likes to be very social. I get enough, maybe too much, peopling working here,” he jokes, and I laugh.
