Page 16 of Hawk

“You, too Ma.” I get up, walk over and kiss her on the temple. “I have to run, but I’ll be back in a few days.”

“I’ll be here waitin’ for ya…and my grandbaby.”

I jump on the bike and head back home. When I get there, I immediately notice that Ivy’s car is missing. I run into the house to confirm that she’s gone and she is. She and Lilly are nowhere to be found. She’s left clothes and baby items in the room, so I take it she’s coming back, but my specific instructions to her were to never leave the house. If this dude is really stalking her, every time she’s out in public, she’s a target.

Now, I’m pissed.

I have no way of knowing where she is. I can’t call her. I have a new cell phone with no contacts programmed, so I don’t know her number and have no way of contacting her.

I kick the wall and hold my head out of frustration. Ivy has always been strong-willed and stubborn which is why I couldn’t understand why she ran to me for help with this in the first place. Yet, when I ask her to stay put, she won’t even listen. What gives?

I can’t do a thing but wait for her to return, so to pass the time, I step out into the garage and try to organize my tools. I rip a paper bag and scribble the items I need to buy to get my shop back up and running. I need oil, steering fluids, antifreeze, drain pans, gloves, shop towels, and a new rubber mat. My tools are all intact.

I stand here and slide my hands into the pocket of my jeans as I envision opening a legit garage and not operating out of my home garage where my car is supposed to be parked. I was well on my way and—

I digress…

At any rate, I’m eager to get my shop up and running again. It will surely put me back in a place of peace, but so will getting my girl back.

Yeah, I still love her. I can’t help but love her. How can I hate the woman who gave birth to my child?

I sigh again. “Ivy, where are you?”

I look up when I hear a car pulling into the driveway.

It’s her.

I immediately walk to the car. She’s taking Lilly out the back. I take deep breaths to temper my frustration right now because Lilly is around. I don’t want her to develop that sort of impression of me. Ever. My father was hard on me and my brothers like that. I want to treat my children better.

I tell Ivy, “Come back outside after you take her in the house.”

“Okay.”

I stand by the car and wait, noticing bags in the back seat. She quickly returns back outside and when she gets near the car, I snap.

“What the heck were you thinking!”

“What are you upset about?” she asks.

“What am I upset about? I told you not to step a foot out of this house!”

“There was no food in there, Gideon, and when I woke up, you were gone. What exactly did you expect me to do? I have no way to contact you. Jeez, I—” After a brief pause, she says, “It’s not like I don’t have enough to deal with. I just ran out for food. I’m sorry.”

I turn away from her, open the back door to get the bags and carry them all inside. I must be a changed man because I’m not one for pointless arguments at this stage in my life. I simply want to be left alone.

Chapter 5

Ivy

I was trying my hardest to keep a level head. I realize the vulnerable position I’m in. I’m at his mercy. He doesn’t have to take me in. He can leave me in the lurch just like I left him in prison, but he chose to help me. I’m sure that’s largely because of Lilly.

Gideon places the bags on the kitchen counter. The place looks the same as it did two years ago – same dishes, same furniture – same everything. But it doesn’t feel the same. The love that once permeated this place is gone. It’s not warm and definitely not inviting. It doesn’t feel like a cozy home. It feels tense. Yet, it still feels like a refuge from the storm that is currently my life. I suppose I should be grateful for that.

I haven’t cooked in weeks. I’m actually looking forward to it, but Gideon is glaring at me like I’m doing something wrong. He’s pissed that I left for groceries, but what else was I supposed to do? Me and babygirl needed sustenance.

I rinse out Lilly’s sippy cup and pour in some apple juice. She walks to the living room and struggles to climb up on the sofa with those little legs of hers, but eventually, she pulls herself up. I go ahead and find cartoons to keep her occupied, then return to the kitchen and unpack groceries.

Gideon is still standing near the table with his arms crossed. This is an old school house – there’s no island in this kitchen – only counters and a four-chair dinette – so there’s really nothing to separate us.