Page 37 of Stranded
“What’s your occupation?” she asks.
“Carpenter,” I say simply, as it’s the truth. Although in the past, I was a bank robber. I haven’t robbed one in over seven years.
“Exactly. A carpenter is no match for my daughter.” She shakes her head. “No offense.”
I clench my fists by my side. “Ivy is mine, and if you’ve got a problem with that, I don’t give two fucks.”
Ivy looks shocked, but a slight smirk twists her lips. “Exactly, Mom. I’m moving to Alaska. I’ve already given my notice to Cravath.”
Diane’s eyes are wild now as she looks around as if searching for someone. And then she spots her husband. Mr. St. Clair. “I won’t hear of this! Jonathan!” she calls to her husband for backup.
Jonathan St. Clair is a medium-height man with a slim build. His hair is a darker shade than Ivy’s, but she has his green eyes. They’re identical. He approaches and gives me a wary glance when he sees his daughter’s hand on my arm.
“Ivy, who is your friend?” he asks.
“Maddox,” she says, clearing her throat. “My boyfriend.”
Hearing her call me her boyfriend fills me with pride.
“Ivy is quitting her job at Cravath,” her mom says, sounding hysterical.
“About time,” her dad says.
Ivy and Diane look taken aback.
“What?” Diane questions.
Jonathan smiles, tilting his head. “Ivy’s heart has never been in law. I’m not sure why she ever went into it.” He pauses. “Not that I’m saying you’re a bad lawyer, sweetheart. You’re great, but it’s not your calling, is it?”
Ivy shakes her head. “No, that’s what I’m trying to explain.” She glances at Diane. “I know you’re disappointed, but I want to pursue a career in fashion.”
Diane scoffs. “There’s no such thing as a viable career in fashion.”
I clear my throat. “Didn’t you say Ivy’s dress is beautiful?”
Diane’s brow furrows. “Yes, what’s your point?”
“I designed and made it, Mom,” Ivy announces.
Jonathan smiles. “Looks like our girl has a real talent for fashion, doesn’t it?”
Diane glares at him. “It’s not a viable career path. How will you live in Alaska?”
“I have savings, and Maddox makes a good living. We’ll survive,” Ivy replies.
I can feel the tension radiate from her, a palpable current of anxiety. I squeeze her hand, leveling my gaze at her mother. “Don’t you think it’s important for Ivy to be happy?” I ask.
Unexpectedly, Jonathan chuckles, breaking the silence. “I think Maddox has a point, dear,” he says, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mirth. “Besides, it’s Alaska, not the moon.”
Ivy gives a soft laugh, her tension visibly easing. For a moment, it feels as though we’ve won a small battle, a victory against a tide of prejudice and expectation.
“You’re no daughter of mine if you pursue this plan. Excuse me.” Diane turns away and leaves us.
Jonathan sighs heavily, placing a comforting hand on Ivy’s shoulder. “Give her time, sweetheart. She needs to process this,” he assures her with a soft smile. But the kindness in his eyes does little to veil the resignation. He knows, as does she, that their journey won’t be easy. “I need to go check on her,” he murmurs.
Ivy watches him leave, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Expected or not, the sting of her mother’s words cuts deeply. Breaking from the societal chains is hard, but she’s made the right choice. In the end, it’ll be worth it. Because our love, no matter how dark and twisted, is the purest thing I’ve ever known.
I wipe away the tears that roll down her cheeks. “Don’t worry, angel. You’re free now.”