Chocolate Chip Mint 7, Fudge Ripple 10: Family
Title: Family
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Chocolate chip mint 7 (turbulent), fudge ripple 10 (fear), brownie.
Word Count: 6847
Rating: PG-13, for much swearing.
Summary: In Which Ivy's biological father shows up again, and no one is happy to see him.
Notes: Again, Ivy's opinions on musical theater are not necessarily the author's.
The phone was ringing.
Ivy pried one eye open and looked at the clock: two AM. That was not fair. She groaned, and put her pillow over her head. If she pretended it wasn't ringing, it would stop, right?
"'smine?" Gina mumbled, beside her. "'syours?"
"Mine," Ivy said, and snatched for the phone vibrating its way across her nightstand. She shouldn't ignore it, it was probably an emergency. Or Aaron drunk-dialing her after a gig. In which case she was going to kill him very slowly. Perhaps using small plastic bags. Or some lemon juice and an envelope.
She hit the call button and put the phone to her ear. "H'lo? 'Smatter?"
"Ivy?" The voice on the other end sounded very far away, faintly tinny. "Ivy, is that you, baby girl?"
She stiffened, and sat up, suddenly awake. No one called her that. "Who is this?"
"It's me! It's your daddy!"
OhGodohGodohGodohGod
Ivy hung up, and threw the phone across the room, and scrambled back up against the headboard, all in one motion.
Gina bolted upright. "What is it? What happened?"
Ivy did not answer. Instead she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, pressing herself back against the headboard. If only she could get far enough away from the phone, it wouldn't have happened. This would be a nightmare. It wouldn't be real if she could get far enough away...
"Ivy?" Gina reached out, tentatively laid her hand on Ivy's arm. "Sweetheart?"
"That was my father," she whispered, and realized faintly that she was beginning to shake.
"Nathan?" Gina began to sound alarmed. "Did something happen to your mom? Or Summer?"
Ivy shook her head. "Not Dad. Not my father. My biological... oh, God, why isn't he gone!"
Gina hissed out a breath, and moved to sit beside Ivy, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. "I don't suppose it could be a very bad joke?"
Ivy shook her head frantically. "No, no, it didn't sound like anyone I know. Nobody who has this number. Oh, God."
"Shh, shh." Gina kissed her temple. "Shh, honey, it's okay. What did he want?"
"I don't know," she said. "Why is he... how did he even get my number?" Aaron wouldn't have told him; Aaron didn't know him from Adam. Summer refused to use the phone at all. Her mother would have hung up at the first sound of his voice. Her dad would have told him to go to hell. And no one else who knew it would tell him. She thought. She hoped. Oh God, oh God...
"Google?" Gina asked, cutting through the panicked circle her thoughts were beginning to take. "Or a private detective or something. Ivy, honey, are you okay?"
"He should be gone," Ivy said, shaking in earnest now. "He should be gone. I don't want him anywhere near me, I want him gone."
Gina sighed, and put her arm around Ivy's shoulders. "He will be. He will be, we'll make him go. Don't worry, love. Don't worry. We'll make him go."
Ivy pressed her face into Gina's neck, squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to cry. God, she felt like a kid again, hearing all the taunts, feeling so insecure and being so afraid that he'd come back and he'd take her, he'd take her away and never let her come home... "Promise?"
"Promise," Gina said, her breath stirring Ivy's hair.
"Pinky-swear?"
She laughed, a little unsteadily, then reached out and hooked her pinky around Ivy's. "Pinky-swear. We'll call Aaron in the morning and tell him what's happened, how about that? Or would you rather call your parents?"
Got to warn Mom. "Parents," Ivy said, and lifted her head from Gina's shoulder. "Mom will need to know. She doesn't want to see him any more than I do."
"I imagine not," Gina said. "I imagine possibly even less."
Ivy managed a slightly choked laugh. "She might hurt him. And then she'd get arrested for assault and that'd wreck her retirement plans."
"Your mother will retire when hell freezes over," Gina said, matter-of-factly. "But let's not ruin her career. We'll call them first thing in the morning, love. I promise. As soon as you think they'll be awake."
Across the room, the phone started ringing again. Ivy jumped, and huddled into Gina's side until it stopped. "Is he going to call all night?" she whispered.
Gina frowned at the bedside clock, rubbing Ivy's shoulder soothingly. "He better not. Why is he calling now, anyway? Two in the morning is just damned rude."
"Mom always said he never cared about anybody but himself," Ivy said, and then, "Oh, fuck it. If someone needs to reach me they have your number." She peeled herself reluctantly away from Gina, and hurried across the room to turn the phone off before it could start ringing again.
"That's my girl," Gina said, and yawned. "Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep, sweetheart?"
"Yeah," Ivy said, ignoring the fact that this was probably wishful thinking. "Don't worry, I was just... surprised." She climbed back into bed, and curled up in Gina's embrace.
"Okay," Gina said, her voice a little doubtful. "Go back to sleep, then. I love you."
Ivy smiled, involuntarily. "Love you too."
But she did not go back to sleep. Instead, she lay in Gina's arms and pondered, long after her lover had drifted off.
She'd lied to Gina, for starters. She hadn't just been shocked. She'd been afraid. And she did not know why.
She was twenty-eight, for heaven's sake. Her biological father hadn't seen her since she was a baby, not even a year old. He probably didn't even know what she looked like. He certainly couldn't take her away. There was absolutely nothing he could do; he'd lost any parental rights he'd had to her twenty-two years ago, and now that she was an adult his minescule claims were worth less than nothing.
Hell, he probably didn't have an away to take her to.
Besides, he couldn't want... whatever it was he wanted that badly, not if he'd waited twenty-seven years for it. Twenty-seven years! Just the thought made Ivy angry. God knew that if she'd disappeared, her real father would have moved heaven and earth to find her, and he wouldn't have waited twenty-seven minutes. This... person didn't deserve anything from her, not even an acknowledgment that he'd called. The son of a bitch could just wander back off to where he'd come from.
On that happy thought, Ivy closed her eyes and snuggled up against Gina, trying not to feel the current of fear still running along her skin.
---
Her mother hit the roof.
Ivy had expected this, more or less. What she had not expected was the sheer volume involved. She had to hold the phone away from her ear; even Gina, cooking breakfast halfway across the room, winced.
If there was one thing Gail Hirschfeld had learned from eighteen years in New York City politics, it was an impressive array of cusswords.
"Mom," Ivy said, once her mother had wound down. "It's okay. I don't think he knows where anybody lives." Except maybe me, she thought, and shivered, but she was not going to tell her mother that.
"I almost hope he does," Gail said, savagely. "If he comes around here I can tell him exactly what he can do with himself. The son of a bitch. How dare he pull this?"
Ivy shrugged, before remembering that her mother couldn’t actually see that over the phone. "Well, you said it. He doesn't actually think about what anyone else wants."
"If he ruins your sister's graduation I will do something terrible," Gail said, voice full of dark promises.
"If he comes anywhere near Summer I will be very surprised," Ivy said. "And I will do anything terrible that needs to be done. You've got a career to think about, Mom."
"And you don't?"
It sounded mostly rhetorical, but Ivy answered the question anyway. "No one cares if veterinarians do terrible things to people. I mean, beyond the usual police attention. It might even be good publicity for the practice."
Gail laughed, a little unhappily. "I suppose. Ivy, sweetheart, are you all right?"
"I think so," Ivy said. "It was really bad last night, but Gina helped a lot." She smiled over at her lover, who smiled back. "It was... a shock." She didn't mention the fear. If she said she was afraid, her mother really would track him down and do something terrible, which would ruin Summer's graduation and a great many other things besides. "I'm okay now, though."
"Hmm." Gail said nothing more; she didn't need to. Ivy counted herself lucky that she couldn't see the skeptical look that usually went along with that particular noise of her mother's. She could lie to one or the other, but not both.
Anyway, it wasn't really a lie. She wasn't afraid anymore (much). That was the product of a late night call and something she'd never expected to hear, mixing with childhood nightmares and low blood sugar. He couldn't hurt her. He wouldn't hurt her. That was just the silly nightmare of a child.
Besides, her mother would kill him if he tried anything.
"Really, Mom," she said, putting just the slightest bit of exasperation in her voice, and changed the subject. "Is Summer around?"
Gail had apparently decided not to pursue the question, because she let Ivy get away with it. "No. Lars and Aaron took her out yesterday, and they kept her overnight. Do you want me to call her?"
"No, no," Ivy said. "Don't bother her with this. She has enough to worry about, and I have to call Aaron anyway. Hey, um, would you tell Dad, though? I don't want to..." She trailed off, not sure how to complete that sentence. Lie to him, maybe.
"Oh, I will definitely tell Nathan. Don't worry about that." Gail paused for a moment. "Ivy, listen, if he contacts you again, I want you to call and tell me as soon as you can."
Ivy frowned. That was odd. "I will, but... why? Is something wrong?"
"No-oo," her mother said, drawing out the word uncertainly. "Not as such. But I don't like that he's turned up again, after all these years. Knowing him... he wants something. And I'm a little afraid to find out what that is. I'd prefer it if you stayed in touch."
Well, she could certainly sympathize with that. "Okay, Mom. I'll call. Tell Daddy I love him."
Her mother smiled at that; Ivy could hear it in her voice when she spoke. "I will," she said, and added in a much more acidic tone, "Tell your sperm donor I want him to fuck off."
That made Ivy giggle. "Only if I can quote you. Love you, Mommy."
"Love you too, sweetheart. Don't forget to call." Her mother hung up, and Ivy snapped her cell phone shut.
She must have been wearing a contemplative look, because Gina arched an eyebrow and asked, "What is it?"
"Mom thinks he wants something," Ivy said. No need to specify which 'he' she meant. "I wonder... it's not that I don't think she's right, I just have no idea what he could possibly want after all this time."
Gina shrugged. "Money? Eggs are ready."
Ivy got up from the couch and maneuvered around Gina to get silverware. "Maybe. Why call me, then? Why not try Mom?"
"Maybe because he knew your mother would react the way she did," Gina said, and flipped a pair of fried eggs onto each plate. "I certainly wouldn't call Vanessa if I wanted money."
Ivy, familiar with that particular horror story, shuddered in sympathy. "I should hope not.... wait. Are you saying my mother's Vanessa in this particular scenario?"
Gina laughed, and switched the stove off, then transferred the pan to the sink and ran water over it. "No, no. Obviously your mother is me. After all, we are both intelligent, gorgeous, accomplished women who have been done wrong by the significant others in our lives."
There was a hint in Gina's tone. Or, well, no, maybe not a hint. Maybe more like a brick.
"Oh?" Ivy pulled out her pineapple juice and Gina's orange and poured them each a glass. "And how, o my beloved, have I done you wrong recently?"
"You failed to kiss me good morning," Gina said, and gave her a mock-serious glare. "I'm afraid I just can't allow this situation to continue, Ivy."
Ivy put a hand to her heart and mimed exaggerated shock. "Good Lord! A heinous crime indeed. Come here and I'll make it up to you."
"Oh, no." Gina leaned back against the counter, one hip cocked. "I'm the one who's been done wrong. You come here." She crooked a finger at Ivy, who grinned, and went.
The eggs were cold by the time they got around to breakfast, but that, Ivy firmly believed, was why God made microwaves.
---
He called again a day later, at a much more reasonable hour.
This time, Ivy was ready for him.
His number popped up on the screen, and she picked the phone up, scowling at it. "Here I go," she told the room.
Gina stiffened, and came to sit by her, on her right. Across the room, her brother Aaron looked up, his expression worried. "Want me to take it?" he asked. "I can kick his ass for you."
Ivy adored her brother, but she doubted that Aaron could kick the ass of a declawed kitten, much less an adult man. "No, I got this," she said, but gave him a warm smile anyway, and answered the phone in her most neutral voice. "Hello."
"Ivy?"
His voice felt like a punch in the gut. She curled up just a little, and felt the couch sag as Aaron sat down on her left and put his arm around her shoulders, hugging tightly. On her other side, Gina took her free hand in both of hers.
"Yes," Ivy said, flatly, giving him absolutely no encouragement.
"Ivy, it's me!" Again that hopeful, too-enthusiastic tone. "It's your daddy!"
Aaron's arm tightened on her shoulders. He must have heard. God knew the man was talking loud enough. "I know who you are," Ivy said.
"Well..." He was floundering. She could hear it. "I, uh. Aren't you glad to hear from me?"
"Not especially," she said, and felt a little cruel pleasure when he made a hurt noise. Fuck this, let's get to it. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to see you," he said, his voice small and unhappy. "You're my daughter, Ivy."
No, I'm not. "You didn't seem to feel that way twenty-seven years ago," Ivy informed him. "And oh, by the way, twenty-seven years? That's a bit long to wait, bucko."
Aaron made an encouraging noise. Gina squeezed her hand.
"Ivy, sweetiepie--"
Did he seriously just say that? She made an incredulous face, and saw Gina mouth 'what the fuck?' at Aaron, who shrugged.
"--baby, I was real screwed up back then. I didn't get it. But I'm straightened out now, really, and I want to see you. I want to get to know you and make up for all of this."
Oh, really.
Wait, really?
Her expression must have changed, because both Aaron and Gina gave her quizzical looks. Neither said anything, but Aaron frowned.
"Are you serious about that?" Ivy asked. He couldn't be. She couldn't believe she was asking this.
"Yes!" This was half-desperate. She was beginning to believe he'd say anything. "Ivy, you're my daughter. My flesh and blood. Please."
She wasn't his daughter, and that was that; she wasn't even going to bother arguing that point. But she was related to him, and... and...
Well, she'd always wondered. Even when she'd been afraid, even when she'd been furious at him, even clinging to her dad's arm on the day he'd adopted her and so happy she could burst, she'd been a little curious.
And why shouldn't she? He was half the reason she existed, after all.
"Ivy?" Aaron asked, under his breath.
She'd been sitting there, scowling at the floor, for heaven knew how long when that one whispered word jolted her back to reality. "Right," she said, and to the phone, "What do you want?"
It was a little more friendly this time.
---
"This is crazy," Aaron said, for the fifteenth time.
Ivy rolled her eyes. When would he stop? "Aaron, I am a grown woman and you cannot boss me around anymore."
He glowered, then gave a reluctant smile. "Heh. You're assuming I ever could, your Majesty."
She considered this for a moment. "This is true. Anyway, I'm going to go see him, and you can't stop me."
"He left you, Ivy," Aaron said, back to glowering. "He didn't want you. I don't get why he gets to come swanning back into your life just like that. You'd punch me in the balls if I pulled a trick like that, and I would deserve it."
"I would punch you," she said, in her best "duh" tones, "because I wouldn't expect you to do something so bastardly. Him, I know better than to trust."
Aaron started to say something but stopped mid-syllable, mouth half open in a way that was very unflattering but oddly adorable. After a moment he said, "Well, thank you for that, little sister."
"You're welcome," Ivy said, grinning.
He shook his head. "Anyway, that was not my point. You shouldn't trust this guy. And you definitely shouldn't be alone with him."
She rolled her eyes again. "I'm not going to his house or anything, I am meeting him in a restaurant. A Denny's, for God's sake. You don't even take a date to Denny's, you take crazy relatives there when you want to spend the least amount of time possible with them." She paused, for effect. "Which is basically what I'm doing, so it's a good choice, don't you think?"
"You're insane," Aaron told her, and threw his hands in the air. "She's insane. Gina, back me up. Tell her she's insane."
Gina, leaning on the counter, had not spoken a word the entire time, though she looked troubled. Now, as Ivy looked towards her, she shook her head, slowly. "I... don't know that she is. Ivy, I agree with him, I think this is crazy, but... I think you need to do it."
In the silence that followed, Ivy gave her brother a smug grin.
"You're both insane," Aaron declared, at last.
"That would be why we're together," Ivy told him.
Gina giggled suddenly. "My mother once said that falling in love meant you'd found someone whose baggage matched yours."
"She stole that from RENT," Ivy said, propping her chin on her hand. "Which is a weird musical, by the way. Why don't they just get a job and pay their freaking rent?"
Aaron said, "Look, you can’t..."
"She did not steal it from RENT," Gina said, "because my mother has probably never seen a musical in her life. Anyway, it's not about the rent, it's about the principle of the thing."
"Ivy," Aaron tried. "I don't want..."
"Refusing to pay rent is a principle now?" Ivy demanded, sitting up straight. They'd had this argument before and she was by-God going to win it this time. "I'm all about sticking it to the man and all that but if you want to live in somebody's building you've got to pay them for the privilege. Mark and Roger just have an entitlement complex of epic proportions."
Aaron sighed. "Hey, guys, I am still..."
Gina grinned at Ivy. "Hate to break it to you, honey, but you can't be all about sticking it to the man when your mother is the man."
"My mother," Ivy said, with as much dignity as she could muster, "is not the man, she's a kindergarten teacher pretending to be a politician."
"Pretending better than some presidents," Gina muttered.
"HEY!" Aaron shouted, and Ivy, distracted, looked at him. "If you guys are going to argue like you're married I'd prefer you didn't do it when I am here and we are talking about important things."
Ivy opened her eyes very wide. "Aaron!" she said. "We are talking about important things! Unless you think my mom is the man, too, in which case we have to have a chat."
He rolled his eyes. "Gail's not the man, and you are missing the point about RENT. Satisfied?"
Ivy scowled at him, and behind her, Gina giggled. "No," she said.
"Good," he said. "Now listen to me, please? I don't think it's a good idea for you to meet this guy. For one thing, Gail will get pissed, and I don't want to deal with it."
Ivy interrupted. She couldn't help herself. "You don't live there anymore, so you won't even have to deal with it. Besides, she won't blow up at you, and I'm ready to take those lumps."
Aaron rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I should've known better than to hope for uninterrupted speech. All right, point two: he's a bastard and we can't trust him." He looked expectantly at Ivy, who felt it only fair to oblige.
"I'm not trusting him," she said. "I'm meeting him in a public place, and Gina will be along if I need help, right?" She looked to Gina, with whom she had not cleared this beforehand, and was gratified when her girlfriend nodded without comment. "You can come along too, if you want."
"No, thanks," he said. "I'd rather not be in the same room. Just in case douchebaggery is contagious."
Something about the way he said that caught Ivy's attention, and she studied him for a moment, tilting her head to the side. "Aaron? Are you jealous?"
He jerked. "What? No!"
"'Cause you know he's not replacing you or Dad or anybody in my affections, right?" Ivy asked.
Aaron sighed. "It's not like that at all," he said, but he didn't sound certain.
"Aaron," Ivy said, seriously, leaning forward and touching her brother's arm. "I'm not doing this out of some insane lark. I do need to see him. I need... I need to see what he's like, at least." Maybe if she saw him... she'd always been more afraid of the unknown. If she knew him, maybe she'd kill the boogeyman once and for all.
But she didn't say that, not to Aaron, because if he knew she was afraid he'd be even more convinced he was right. So she told him a different truth instead. "Like it or not, he's part of me."
"I wish he wasn't," Aaron said, softly, his eyes steady on hers.
She smiled at him. "Don't worry, it's a very small part. You and Dad are much, much bigger influences. But he's still in there." She patted his arm, then continued, "Besides, I feel like I should walk a mile in his shoes. That way, if it all goes wrong, I'm a mile away..."
"...and you'll have his shoes," Gina and Aaron chorused. Gina added, "Make sure they're nice shoes, though."
Ivy looked at her again, mock-seriously. "Oh, so now you're criticising my taste in footwear."
"Honey, the great god Tim Gunn says there's no excuse for Crocs, no way, no how."
"Tim Gunn," Ivy said, enunciating every word precisely, "can go fu--"
"Okay," Aaron said, hastily. "I'm gonna go now. You two have fun fighting. Vee, don't forget to call Gail."
"What, you're giving in already?" Ivy asked, a little disappointed. He'd only been there for an hour or two, and she hadn't seen him in a week and a half. "I have not yet begun to fight! With you, I mean."
"I believe it," Aaron said, "and I'm still not okay with this, but you're a big girl, you know what you're doing." He draped an arm around her shoulders and hugged quickly. "Just remember that you're my little sister, okay? Nobody fucks with you and gets away with it."
"Actually," Gina said, quietly, "I believe I do."
"Fucks with her," Aaron said. "I said fucks with her, not fucks her. You can go on doing that all you like and please never mention it around me again because I am scarred for life now."
Ivy giggled. "Duly noted," she told Aaron. "Both parts. If I need somebody viciously glared at I will definitely call you."
"Oh, bite me," Aaron said, but he leaned over and kissed her temple, then went over to Gina and kissed the cheek she proffered. "See you two later. Vee, don't die."
"Not planning on it," Ivy said, as the door shut behind him.
---
The Denny's was bustling. Thank God. Ivy did not want this to happen in a quiet place.
She held the door for Gina as she scanned the crowded booths. "Doesn't look like he's here yet," she said, and shoved her shaking hands in her pockets.
"Well," Gina said, hitching her purse up on her shoulder, "that was the point of showing up half an hour early, wasn't it?"
"Gotta case the joint," Ivy said, in her best Brooklyn accent, and Gina laughed. "Where are you sitting?"
"Bar," Gina decided, and kissed Ivy's cheek. "I'll be down at the end collecting phone numbers if you need me."
"Ladies." A harassed-looking waitress bustled up to them. "Two?"
"Ah, no, one," Gina said, and slid past her. "I'm only here for a drink."
The waitress looked after Gina, which was not unusual, with a rather puzzled look, which was, then turned to Ivy. "All right then, booth or table?"
"Booth," Ivy said, "and I'm waiting for someone, but I expect he'll find me when he shows." After all, she looked like her mother, and as crowded as the Denny's was, she was the only bright redhead in there.
"Right," the waitress said, looking slightly relieved. "Name?"
"Ivy Hirschfeld-Kendall," Ivy said, emphasing Kendall. She hadn't meant to, but she found she was doing it more and more lately, an old habit from her childhood resurfacing under stress.
"And your guest?"
"He's..." Ivy paused, suddenly struck by the realization that she didn't even know his last name. Or rather, she knew it, she was sure she knew it, but she couldn't remember it at all. "He's Brad. He'll be looking for me."
The waitress gave her an odd look, then said, "All right, here you go, dear. I'll be over in a bit to get you drinks." She deposited a menu in front of Ivy, another across from her after a moment of hesitation, and departed.
Denny's menus were all the same. Ivy scanned it idly for the sake of killing some time, then picked the least dreadful-looking thing on the menu-- hot chocolate and a side of toast. She'd become a lot more health-conscious since she met Gina. Not that she'd been totally ignorant of nutrition before they started dating, but Gina was the one who really knew her stuff.
Speaking of Gina. She glanced up at the bar, and smiled to see her girlfriend in animated conversation with the (just as attractive) bartender. Judging from the hand gestures, they were commiserating about people hitting on them. Or maybe sex. That particular motion was pretty unmistakeable.
"Ivy?"
Her throat clogged, and she looked away from Gina, up to the man standing over her booth.
Her first surprised thought was that he looked dignified. She'd expected... she didn't know what she'd expected; an overgrown fratboy waving a bottle of beer, maybe, or a sleazy, potbellied hick. She'd never expected him to wear a neat white shirt, or to have brown hair combed carefully, or to wear shiny black shoes and a thin black tie like the Mormon missionaries who'd come around every month before she and Summer and Aaron scared them off for good. He looked... respectable.
There was almost nothing of herself in him, not that she could see. She had her mother's red hair and her mother's sharp chin, the same high cheekbones and athletic build and pretty hands. But this man... they both had blue eyes.
The silence had stretched out, and his smile had twisted, become uncomfortable. Ivy gasped, and said, "Oh! Hi! God, I'm sorry, it's been a weird day."
"No, no, that's all right." He shifted, awkwardly. "Are you, uh..."
"Sit down," Ivy said. In her hurry, it came out as an order.
He sat, and looked at her. Ivy squirmed. What the hell was all of this...
"Wow," he said, and smiled, oddly shy. "Look at you."
She blinked, and glanced down at herself. She hadn't gone to any particular trouble today; slacks, loose hair, jacket and a worn-out band shirt for Bedrock Drift that Aaron had given her after their first concert. "Something wrong?"
"No, no, it's just..." He shook his head. "I haven't seen you since you were a baby."
Her budding good mood deflated abruptly. "Yeah," she said. "Thanks for reminding me."
"Oh, no," he said, and ran a hand through his hair, disarranging it in an endearing way. Ivy couldn't tell if it was practiced or not. "I'm sorry, that wasn't what I wanted to say. Look, I know I was awful to you and your mother. I was... I was real bad off back then. Wasn't thinking too straight."
"No kidding," Ivy said. "So... you're back, I gather you want... what? To reconnect?"
He nodded, enthusiastically. "Yeah! Yeah, that's it exactly. I want to be your father, Ivy. I know you probably don't feel like you can trust me, but I promise..."
Aha. She'd better cut that misconception off at the pass. Ivy sighed, and interrupted him. "Okay, I can see a problem. I appreciate that you're related to me and all, but I've already got a father."
He frowned, puzzled lines forming in his forehead. "I don't understand."
Ivy repeated herself.
He shook his head, and gave her a questioning smile. "Now, I know you're angry and confused, but I'm your father, sweetiepie. You can't have another one."
Oh, really. Ivy inhaled deeply, trying to keep away from anger. He was only trying to reconnect, he was only trying to reconnect... "Fatherhood is not just a blood relation, it's an emotional bond, which I'd say--"
"--but I want to build that bond--" he said, trying to interrupt.
Ivy had two siblings and a number of excellent friends, and as such was quite capable of making herself heard over a mob. This guy was no challenge. "--I'd say you don't have," she said, carrying right on over him. "And if you're going to make a parental rights argument, I'm twenty-eight and a full legal adult, and besides Dad adopted me when I was five so they'd be his anyway." She leaned back in the booth, folded her arms across her chest, and looked at her biological father, eyebrow raised. Your move.
He looked completely flabbergasted. As if she'd hit him in the back of the head with a two-by-four.
Not that Ivy would know what that looked like. Really.
Finally, Brad spoke up. "He adopted you?" he said. Even his voice was stunned. "But I'm your father."
"Yeah, well, you weren't around," Ivy said. "You want to be in my life, I'm okay with that, maybe. But you have to understand that I have a father, and you aren't him."
Brad wasn't listening. "That bitch," he said.
Ivy stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"You're my daughter," he told her, in a tone that should have accompanied a finger being shaken in her face. It was probably a good thing that it didn't, really, because Ivy, mature as she was, could not have promised not to bite it. "Mine. Nobody else has any rights to you."
Don't get pissed. Don't get pissed, he's only surprised. "You weren't around," Ivy said, very patiently. "The state decided that was abandonment, so they took your paternal rights and gave them to my dad. Them's the breaks. Do you actually want to talk about the future or just bitch about stuff that's your fault?"
Brad sat back, looking briefly as if he'd been slapped, before that melted into a relieved expression and he shook his head. "Of course, I understand," he said. "Look, I know your mother must have been very angry, and I know she wanted to hurt me, but please, Ivy, you don't have to keep it up. I always loved you, no matter what happened between the two of us."
"Uh-huh," Ivy said. Somehow she didn't believe him. "I'm sure. Since you were so demonstrative and all that."
"I just want you to know that it's all right," he told her, earnestly. "I forgive you. I know you can't help what your mother and her new... friend have told you."
Oh, God. He did not get it. He was actively not getting it. Ivy folded her arms on the table and leaned over them. "Listen very closely," she said, "because I'm only going to say this once more. You are not my father. If you want to be in my life, we can talk about it, but that is not under discussion."
Brad gave her a hearty smile that was more than a little bit fake. "Now, Ivy, I'm sure you're just upset, and once you think about it..."
"You," Ivy began again, contradicting herself, but screw it. "Are not. My father. Nathan Kendall is my father. You're... I don't know. A sperm donor."
He drew back, expression totally offended. Rather like Gus the cat when he'd been offered inferior food, Ivy thought, and had to bite back another grin. "Sperm donor? I never..."
"And the more you harp on this," she added, "the less likely I am to let you in my life. So's you know."
"Ivy, I..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. "Ivy. You're my daughter, no matter what anyone--" Ivy clearly heard the unspoken 'your mother'-- "says. Some things are just natural. I don't see why you don't understand that."
She stared at him for a moment, then said, "All right, we're done here. Please feel free to fuck off and die."
He stared at her again. "What?"
Ivy rolled her eyes, and slid out of the booth, happy that she'd never ordered. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gina bid the bartender a hasty farewell, drop some change on the counter and hop off her stool. "I said we're done, and you can just walk right back out of my life. I'd say it's been nice knowing you, but I'd be lying." She marched towards the doorway, fury misting the edges of her mind. Don't scream, don't scream, don't scream...
"You okay?" That was Gina, slipping up beside her, and swinging open the door before Ivy could kick it. "Do I need to cut a bitch?"
"He insults my mother, he insults my father, he tells me my family isn't valid because he's got some kind of fucking genetic claim and then he patronizes me..." Ivy rubbed a hand over her eyes, wiping away angry tears. "I can't believe I was ever afraid of him. I can't believe I ever thought..." She trailed off, and glared at a passing businessman watching them curiously. He blinked, and hurried on.
"Fuck him," Gina said, with perfect calm, and took her hand. "Let's go get ice cream and make out."
Ivy grinned in spite of herself. "At the same time?"
"If you want," Gina said, and smiled at her.
"Might get a bit messy," Ivy said, for the sake of argument.
Gina put on a martyred look. "For you, my darling, I will endure. Come on, before he catches up."
Ivy squeezed Gina's hand. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"Don't get all sappy on me now," Gina said, and smiled at her. "I can't kiss you and walk at the same time."
"Okay. I'll save the sap for later," Ivy said, and balled her free hand into a fist. "Fucking bastard, who the hell does he think he is?"
"There you go," Gina said.
---
"...and then he starts insulting Mom!" Ivy said, torn between hilarity and indignation. "As if that was going to make me want him around! I swear, I was this close--" she held her thumb and forefinger together-- "to hauling off and popping him one."
"I'm impressed with your diplomacy," Nathan Kendall replied, dryly. "I honestly don't know if I would have been as restrained."
Ivy smiled at her father, and hooked her arm into the curve of his. "Yeah, well, I try to make you proud of me."
"And you succeed, every day." He hugged her arm, briefly. "What happened after that?"
"Oh, I just got up and walked out," Ivy said, trying not to grin like an idiot. "Then Gina and I got ice cream and cupcakes. She found this fabulous little place in the Lower East Side; best cupcakes in New York, and only a buck fifty each."
Her father groaned. "Lord, don't tell me where it is. I'm halfway to being diabetic as it stands."
"Right," Ivy said. "Anyway. Then we made out in the park and laughed at people being scandalized, went to see the dinosaurs, got drunk, dropped by a club and danced like morons. You know. All the things she knows that cheer me up. God, I love that woman."
"I am pleased to hear it," Nathan said. "Now get me and your mother some grandchildren, so she'll stop telling me how much she wants some."
Ivy, well aware that it was not only her mother who wanted grandchildren, rolled her eyes. "Dad, I am a lesbian. I don't have sex with men. There are no babies forthcoming."
"I believe your mother means adopted grandchildren," he said, "and please don't make me think about you having sex again, there's a love."
She giggled. "You know I'm not five anymore, right?"
"The extent of my involvement in my children's love lives is pretending that they don't have them," her father said, loftily. "Now you be a good daughter and let me keep my delusions. Speaking of, has he called again?"
"Yes," Ivy said. "Twice, both at ridiculous hours of the morning. I didn't answer. If he can't take a hint, fuck him."
"A reasonable attitude," Nathan said, nodding. "If a little crudely put."
She gave him a sidelong look. "You're a Navy vet, and the word 'fuck' shocks you?"
"Remember when you said you weren't five anymore?"
"Yes," Ivy said, slowly, not sure where this was going.
"I try to pretend you still are," he said, and sighed.
Ivy, about to make an unfortunate remark, thought better of it when she realized that he was not actually commenting on her age. "I'll always be your little girl, Daddy," she said, instead. "Though I'm afraid the swearing is here to stay."
She was rewarded with one of his rare but brilliant smiles. "You're almost thirty," he said. "I can make allowances for swearing."
"Glad to hear it," Ivy said, and they walked for a while in a comfortable silence that, for Ivy, was full of thinking.
Aaron had been afraid that she would leave them, forget her family when shown blood relations. Maybe he hadn't put it quite like that, but that was what he'd meant, and if Ivy was honest with herself, that was what she had been afraid of as well. She had a family. She hadn't wanted to lose it. Even if he'd been a good man with a good claim, he hadn't fed her or cuddled her or loved her or told her that he would always be her father, always. She'd been afraid that his presence meant she would lose that by default.
But then again, she thought, looking at her father, how could she ever have thought that the man she'd left behind in the Denny's could replace him?
I am your father. I will always be your father, for as long as you want me to be.
How could she have thought that he would ever love her less?
Abruptly, she nudged him with her shoulder. "So, Daddy," she said, persuasively. "Can we go get ice cream now?"
He gave her a sidelong look. "I thought you just got ice cream."
"Dad," Ivy said, mock-exasperated. "That was a whole day ago. There's blood in my sugar veins and everything. Can we go get ice cream?"
Her father rolled his eyes, then kissed the top of her head. "Yes, we can go get ice cream. But you are buying."
"Pff," Ivy said. "Some father you are. Won't even treat your precious firstborn daughter to an ice cream cone."
"Ungrateful child," he said, cheerfully. "Too cheap to spend a few bucks on your old man. There's a good place over there."
Best father in the world, Ivy thought, and they walked on.
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Chocolate chip mint 7 (turbulent), fudge ripple 10 (fear), brownie.
Word Count: 6847
Rating: PG-13, for much swearing.
Summary: In Which Ivy's biological father shows up again, and no one is happy to see him.
Notes: Again, Ivy's opinions on musical theater are not necessarily the author's.
The phone was ringing.
Ivy pried one eye open and looked at the clock: two AM. That was not fair. She groaned, and put her pillow over her head. If she pretended it wasn't ringing, it would stop, right?
"'smine?" Gina mumbled, beside her. "'syours?"
"Mine," Ivy said, and snatched for the phone vibrating its way across her nightstand. She shouldn't ignore it, it was probably an emergency. Or Aaron drunk-dialing her after a gig. In which case she was going to kill him very slowly. Perhaps using small plastic bags. Or some lemon juice and an envelope.
She hit the call button and put the phone to her ear. "H'lo? 'Smatter?"
"Ivy?" The voice on the other end sounded very far away, faintly tinny. "Ivy, is that you, baby girl?"
She stiffened, and sat up, suddenly awake. No one called her that. "Who is this?"
"It's me! It's your daddy!"
OhGodohGodohGodohGod
Ivy hung up, and threw the phone across the room, and scrambled back up against the headboard, all in one motion.
Gina bolted upright. "What is it? What happened?"
Ivy did not answer. Instead she drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, pressing herself back against the headboard. If only she could get far enough away from the phone, it wouldn't have happened. This would be a nightmare. It wouldn't be real if she could get far enough away...
"Ivy?" Gina reached out, tentatively laid her hand on Ivy's arm. "Sweetheart?"
"That was my father," she whispered, and realized faintly that she was beginning to shake.
"Nathan?" Gina began to sound alarmed. "Did something happen to your mom? Or Summer?"
Ivy shook her head. "Not Dad. Not my father. My biological... oh, God, why isn't he gone!"
Gina hissed out a breath, and moved to sit beside Ivy, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. "I don't suppose it could be a very bad joke?"
Ivy shook her head frantically. "No, no, it didn't sound like anyone I know. Nobody who has this number. Oh, God."
"Shh, shh." Gina kissed her temple. "Shh, honey, it's okay. What did he want?"
"I don't know," she said. "Why is he... how did he even get my number?" Aaron wouldn't have told him; Aaron didn't know him from Adam. Summer refused to use the phone at all. Her mother would have hung up at the first sound of his voice. Her dad would have told him to go to hell. And no one else who knew it would tell him. She thought. She hoped. Oh God, oh God...
"Google?" Gina asked, cutting through the panicked circle her thoughts were beginning to take. "Or a private detective or something. Ivy, honey, are you okay?"
"He should be gone," Ivy said, shaking in earnest now. "He should be gone. I don't want him anywhere near me, I want him gone."
Gina sighed, and put her arm around Ivy's shoulders. "He will be. He will be, we'll make him go. Don't worry, love. Don't worry. We'll make him go."
Ivy pressed her face into Gina's neck, squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to cry. God, she felt like a kid again, hearing all the taunts, feeling so insecure and being so afraid that he'd come back and he'd take her, he'd take her away and never let her come home... "Promise?"
"Promise," Gina said, her breath stirring Ivy's hair.
"Pinky-swear?"
She laughed, a little unsteadily, then reached out and hooked her pinky around Ivy's. "Pinky-swear. We'll call Aaron in the morning and tell him what's happened, how about that? Or would you rather call your parents?"
Got to warn Mom. "Parents," Ivy said, and lifted her head from Gina's shoulder. "Mom will need to know. She doesn't want to see him any more than I do."
"I imagine not," Gina said. "I imagine possibly even less."
Ivy managed a slightly choked laugh. "She might hurt him. And then she'd get arrested for assault and that'd wreck her retirement plans."
"Your mother will retire when hell freezes over," Gina said, matter-of-factly. "But let's not ruin her career. We'll call them first thing in the morning, love. I promise. As soon as you think they'll be awake."
Across the room, the phone started ringing again. Ivy jumped, and huddled into Gina's side until it stopped. "Is he going to call all night?" she whispered.
Gina frowned at the bedside clock, rubbing Ivy's shoulder soothingly. "He better not. Why is he calling now, anyway? Two in the morning is just damned rude."
"Mom always said he never cared about anybody but himself," Ivy said, and then, "Oh, fuck it. If someone needs to reach me they have your number." She peeled herself reluctantly away from Gina, and hurried across the room to turn the phone off before it could start ringing again.
"That's my girl," Gina said, and yawned. "Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep, sweetheart?"
"Yeah," Ivy said, ignoring the fact that this was probably wishful thinking. "Don't worry, I was just... surprised." She climbed back into bed, and curled up in Gina's embrace.
"Okay," Gina said, her voice a little doubtful. "Go back to sleep, then. I love you."
Ivy smiled, involuntarily. "Love you too."
But she did not go back to sleep. Instead, she lay in Gina's arms and pondered, long after her lover had drifted off.
She'd lied to Gina, for starters. She hadn't just been shocked. She'd been afraid. And she did not know why.
She was twenty-eight, for heaven's sake. Her biological father hadn't seen her since she was a baby, not even a year old. He probably didn't even know what she looked like. He certainly couldn't take her away. There was absolutely nothing he could do; he'd lost any parental rights he'd had to her twenty-two years ago, and now that she was an adult his minescule claims were worth less than nothing.
Hell, he probably didn't have an away to take her to.
Besides, he couldn't want... whatever it was he wanted that badly, not if he'd waited twenty-seven years for it. Twenty-seven years! Just the thought made Ivy angry. God knew that if she'd disappeared, her real father would have moved heaven and earth to find her, and he wouldn't have waited twenty-seven minutes. This... person didn't deserve anything from her, not even an acknowledgment that he'd called. The son of a bitch could just wander back off to where he'd come from.
On that happy thought, Ivy closed her eyes and snuggled up against Gina, trying not to feel the current of fear still running along her skin.
---
Her mother hit the roof.
Ivy had expected this, more or less. What she had not expected was the sheer volume involved. She had to hold the phone away from her ear; even Gina, cooking breakfast halfway across the room, winced.
If there was one thing Gail Hirschfeld had learned from eighteen years in New York City politics, it was an impressive array of cusswords.
"Mom," Ivy said, once her mother had wound down. "It's okay. I don't think he knows where anybody lives." Except maybe me, she thought, and shivered, but she was not going to tell her mother that.
"I almost hope he does," Gail said, savagely. "If he comes around here I can tell him exactly what he can do with himself. The son of a bitch. How dare he pull this?"
Ivy shrugged, before remembering that her mother couldn’t actually see that over the phone. "Well, you said it. He doesn't actually think about what anyone else wants."
"If he ruins your sister's graduation I will do something terrible," Gail said, voice full of dark promises.
"If he comes anywhere near Summer I will be very surprised," Ivy said. "And I will do anything terrible that needs to be done. You've got a career to think about, Mom."
"And you don't?"
It sounded mostly rhetorical, but Ivy answered the question anyway. "No one cares if veterinarians do terrible things to people. I mean, beyond the usual police attention. It might even be good publicity for the practice."
Gail laughed, a little unhappily. "I suppose. Ivy, sweetheart, are you all right?"
"I think so," Ivy said. "It was really bad last night, but Gina helped a lot." She smiled over at her lover, who smiled back. "It was... a shock." She didn't mention the fear. If she said she was afraid, her mother really would track him down and do something terrible, which would ruin Summer's graduation and a great many other things besides. "I'm okay now, though."
"Hmm." Gail said nothing more; she didn't need to. Ivy counted herself lucky that she couldn't see the skeptical look that usually went along with that particular noise of her mother's. She could lie to one or the other, but not both.
Anyway, it wasn't really a lie. She wasn't afraid anymore (much). That was the product of a late night call and something she'd never expected to hear, mixing with childhood nightmares and low blood sugar. He couldn't hurt her. He wouldn't hurt her. That was just the silly nightmare of a child.
Besides, her mother would kill him if he tried anything.
"Really, Mom," she said, putting just the slightest bit of exasperation in her voice, and changed the subject. "Is Summer around?"
Gail had apparently decided not to pursue the question, because she let Ivy get away with it. "No. Lars and Aaron took her out yesterday, and they kept her overnight. Do you want me to call her?"
"No, no," Ivy said. "Don't bother her with this. She has enough to worry about, and I have to call Aaron anyway. Hey, um, would you tell Dad, though? I don't want to..." She trailed off, not sure how to complete that sentence. Lie to him, maybe.
"Oh, I will definitely tell Nathan. Don't worry about that." Gail paused for a moment. "Ivy, listen, if he contacts you again, I want you to call and tell me as soon as you can."
Ivy frowned. That was odd. "I will, but... why? Is something wrong?"
"No-oo," her mother said, drawing out the word uncertainly. "Not as such. But I don't like that he's turned up again, after all these years. Knowing him... he wants something. And I'm a little afraid to find out what that is. I'd prefer it if you stayed in touch."
Well, she could certainly sympathize with that. "Okay, Mom. I'll call. Tell Daddy I love him."
Her mother smiled at that; Ivy could hear it in her voice when she spoke. "I will," she said, and added in a much more acidic tone, "Tell your sperm donor I want him to fuck off."
That made Ivy giggle. "Only if I can quote you. Love you, Mommy."
"Love you too, sweetheart. Don't forget to call." Her mother hung up, and Ivy snapped her cell phone shut.
She must have been wearing a contemplative look, because Gina arched an eyebrow and asked, "What is it?"
"Mom thinks he wants something," Ivy said. No need to specify which 'he' she meant. "I wonder... it's not that I don't think she's right, I just have no idea what he could possibly want after all this time."
Gina shrugged. "Money? Eggs are ready."
Ivy got up from the couch and maneuvered around Gina to get silverware. "Maybe. Why call me, then? Why not try Mom?"
"Maybe because he knew your mother would react the way she did," Gina said, and flipped a pair of fried eggs onto each plate. "I certainly wouldn't call Vanessa if I wanted money."
Ivy, familiar with that particular horror story, shuddered in sympathy. "I should hope not.... wait. Are you saying my mother's Vanessa in this particular scenario?"
Gina laughed, and switched the stove off, then transferred the pan to the sink and ran water over it. "No, no. Obviously your mother is me. After all, we are both intelligent, gorgeous, accomplished women who have been done wrong by the significant others in our lives."
There was a hint in Gina's tone. Or, well, no, maybe not a hint. Maybe more like a brick.
"Oh?" Ivy pulled out her pineapple juice and Gina's orange and poured them each a glass. "And how, o my beloved, have I done you wrong recently?"
"You failed to kiss me good morning," Gina said, and gave her a mock-serious glare. "I'm afraid I just can't allow this situation to continue, Ivy."
Ivy put a hand to her heart and mimed exaggerated shock. "Good Lord! A heinous crime indeed. Come here and I'll make it up to you."
"Oh, no." Gina leaned back against the counter, one hip cocked. "I'm the one who's been done wrong. You come here." She crooked a finger at Ivy, who grinned, and went.
The eggs were cold by the time they got around to breakfast, but that, Ivy firmly believed, was why God made microwaves.
---
He called again a day later, at a much more reasonable hour.
This time, Ivy was ready for him.
His number popped up on the screen, and she picked the phone up, scowling at it. "Here I go," she told the room.
Gina stiffened, and came to sit by her, on her right. Across the room, her brother Aaron looked up, his expression worried. "Want me to take it?" he asked. "I can kick his ass for you."
Ivy adored her brother, but she doubted that Aaron could kick the ass of a declawed kitten, much less an adult man. "No, I got this," she said, but gave him a warm smile anyway, and answered the phone in her most neutral voice. "Hello."
"Ivy?"
His voice felt like a punch in the gut. She curled up just a little, and felt the couch sag as Aaron sat down on her left and put his arm around her shoulders, hugging tightly. On her other side, Gina took her free hand in both of hers.
"Yes," Ivy said, flatly, giving him absolutely no encouragement.
"Ivy, it's me!" Again that hopeful, too-enthusiastic tone. "It's your daddy!"
Aaron's arm tightened on her shoulders. He must have heard. God knew the man was talking loud enough. "I know who you are," Ivy said.
"Well..." He was floundering. She could hear it. "I, uh. Aren't you glad to hear from me?"
"Not especially," she said, and felt a little cruel pleasure when he made a hurt noise. Fuck this, let's get to it. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to see you," he said, his voice small and unhappy. "You're my daughter, Ivy."
No, I'm not. "You didn't seem to feel that way twenty-seven years ago," Ivy informed him. "And oh, by the way, twenty-seven years? That's a bit long to wait, bucko."
Aaron made an encouraging noise. Gina squeezed her hand.
"Ivy, sweetiepie--"
Did he seriously just say that? She made an incredulous face, and saw Gina mouth 'what the fuck?' at Aaron, who shrugged.
"--baby, I was real screwed up back then. I didn't get it. But I'm straightened out now, really, and I want to see you. I want to get to know you and make up for all of this."
Oh, really.
Wait, really?
Her expression must have changed, because both Aaron and Gina gave her quizzical looks. Neither said anything, but Aaron frowned.
"Are you serious about that?" Ivy asked. He couldn't be. She couldn't believe she was asking this.
"Yes!" This was half-desperate. She was beginning to believe he'd say anything. "Ivy, you're my daughter. My flesh and blood. Please."
She wasn't his daughter, and that was that; she wasn't even going to bother arguing that point. But she was related to him, and... and...
Well, she'd always wondered. Even when she'd been afraid, even when she'd been furious at him, even clinging to her dad's arm on the day he'd adopted her and so happy she could burst, she'd been a little curious.
And why shouldn't she? He was half the reason she existed, after all.
"Ivy?" Aaron asked, under his breath.
She'd been sitting there, scowling at the floor, for heaven knew how long when that one whispered word jolted her back to reality. "Right," she said, and to the phone, "What do you want?"
It was a little more friendly this time.
---
"This is crazy," Aaron said, for the fifteenth time.
Ivy rolled her eyes. When would he stop? "Aaron, I am a grown woman and you cannot boss me around anymore."
He glowered, then gave a reluctant smile. "Heh. You're assuming I ever could, your Majesty."
She considered this for a moment. "This is true. Anyway, I'm going to go see him, and you can't stop me."
"He left you, Ivy," Aaron said, back to glowering. "He didn't want you. I don't get why he gets to come swanning back into your life just like that. You'd punch me in the balls if I pulled a trick like that, and I would deserve it."
"I would punch you," she said, in her best "duh" tones, "because I wouldn't expect you to do something so bastardly. Him, I know better than to trust."
Aaron started to say something but stopped mid-syllable, mouth half open in a way that was very unflattering but oddly adorable. After a moment he said, "Well, thank you for that, little sister."
"You're welcome," Ivy said, grinning.
He shook his head. "Anyway, that was not my point. You shouldn't trust this guy. And you definitely shouldn't be alone with him."
She rolled her eyes again. "I'm not going to his house or anything, I am meeting him in a restaurant. A Denny's, for God's sake. You don't even take a date to Denny's, you take crazy relatives there when you want to spend the least amount of time possible with them." She paused, for effect. "Which is basically what I'm doing, so it's a good choice, don't you think?"
"You're insane," Aaron told her, and threw his hands in the air. "She's insane. Gina, back me up. Tell her she's insane."
Gina, leaning on the counter, had not spoken a word the entire time, though she looked troubled. Now, as Ivy looked towards her, she shook her head, slowly. "I... don't know that she is. Ivy, I agree with him, I think this is crazy, but... I think you need to do it."
In the silence that followed, Ivy gave her brother a smug grin.
"You're both insane," Aaron declared, at last.
"That would be why we're together," Ivy told him.
Gina giggled suddenly. "My mother once said that falling in love meant you'd found someone whose baggage matched yours."
"She stole that from RENT," Ivy said, propping her chin on her hand. "Which is a weird musical, by the way. Why don't they just get a job and pay their freaking rent?"
Aaron said, "Look, you can’t..."
"She did not steal it from RENT," Gina said, "because my mother has probably never seen a musical in her life. Anyway, it's not about the rent, it's about the principle of the thing."
"Ivy," Aaron tried. "I don't want..."
"Refusing to pay rent is a principle now?" Ivy demanded, sitting up straight. They'd had this argument before and she was by-God going to win it this time. "I'm all about sticking it to the man and all that but if you want to live in somebody's building you've got to pay them for the privilege. Mark and Roger just have an entitlement complex of epic proportions."
Aaron sighed. "Hey, guys, I am still..."
Gina grinned at Ivy. "Hate to break it to you, honey, but you can't be all about sticking it to the man when your mother is the man."
"My mother," Ivy said, with as much dignity as she could muster, "is not the man, she's a kindergarten teacher pretending to be a politician."
"Pretending better than some presidents," Gina muttered.
"HEY!" Aaron shouted, and Ivy, distracted, looked at him. "If you guys are going to argue like you're married I'd prefer you didn't do it when I am here and we are talking about important things."
Ivy opened her eyes very wide. "Aaron!" she said. "We are talking about important things! Unless you think my mom is the man, too, in which case we have to have a chat."
He rolled his eyes. "Gail's not the man, and you are missing the point about RENT. Satisfied?"
Ivy scowled at him, and behind her, Gina giggled. "No," she said.
"Good," he said. "Now listen to me, please? I don't think it's a good idea for you to meet this guy. For one thing, Gail will get pissed, and I don't want to deal with it."
Ivy interrupted. She couldn't help herself. "You don't live there anymore, so you won't even have to deal with it. Besides, she won't blow up at you, and I'm ready to take those lumps."
Aaron rubbed a hand across his forehead. "I should've known better than to hope for uninterrupted speech. All right, point two: he's a bastard and we can't trust him." He looked expectantly at Ivy, who felt it only fair to oblige.
"I'm not trusting him," she said. "I'm meeting him in a public place, and Gina will be along if I need help, right?" She looked to Gina, with whom she had not cleared this beforehand, and was gratified when her girlfriend nodded without comment. "You can come along too, if you want."
"No, thanks," he said. "I'd rather not be in the same room. Just in case douchebaggery is contagious."
Something about the way he said that caught Ivy's attention, and she studied him for a moment, tilting her head to the side. "Aaron? Are you jealous?"
He jerked. "What? No!"
"'Cause you know he's not replacing you or Dad or anybody in my affections, right?" Ivy asked.
Aaron sighed. "It's not like that at all," he said, but he didn't sound certain.
"Aaron," Ivy said, seriously, leaning forward and touching her brother's arm. "I'm not doing this out of some insane lark. I do need to see him. I need... I need to see what he's like, at least." Maybe if she saw him... she'd always been more afraid of the unknown. If she knew him, maybe she'd kill the boogeyman once and for all.
But she didn't say that, not to Aaron, because if he knew she was afraid he'd be even more convinced he was right. So she told him a different truth instead. "Like it or not, he's part of me."
"I wish he wasn't," Aaron said, softly, his eyes steady on hers.
She smiled at him. "Don't worry, it's a very small part. You and Dad are much, much bigger influences. But he's still in there." She patted his arm, then continued, "Besides, I feel like I should walk a mile in his shoes. That way, if it all goes wrong, I'm a mile away..."
"...and you'll have his shoes," Gina and Aaron chorused. Gina added, "Make sure they're nice shoes, though."
Ivy looked at her again, mock-seriously. "Oh, so now you're criticising my taste in footwear."
"Honey, the great god Tim Gunn says there's no excuse for Crocs, no way, no how."
"Tim Gunn," Ivy said, enunciating every word precisely, "can go fu--"
"Okay," Aaron said, hastily. "I'm gonna go now. You two have fun fighting. Vee, don't forget to call Gail."
"What, you're giving in already?" Ivy asked, a little disappointed. He'd only been there for an hour or two, and she hadn't seen him in a week and a half. "I have not yet begun to fight! With you, I mean."
"I believe it," Aaron said, "and I'm still not okay with this, but you're a big girl, you know what you're doing." He draped an arm around her shoulders and hugged quickly. "Just remember that you're my little sister, okay? Nobody fucks with you and gets away with it."
"Actually," Gina said, quietly, "I believe I do."
"Fucks with her," Aaron said. "I said fucks with her, not fucks her. You can go on doing that all you like and please never mention it around me again because I am scarred for life now."
Ivy giggled. "Duly noted," she told Aaron. "Both parts. If I need somebody viciously glared at I will definitely call you."
"Oh, bite me," Aaron said, but he leaned over and kissed her temple, then went over to Gina and kissed the cheek she proffered. "See you two later. Vee, don't die."
"Not planning on it," Ivy said, as the door shut behind him.
---
The Denny's was bustling. Thank God. Ivy did not want this to happen in a quiet place.
She held the door for Gina as she scanned the crowded booths. "Doesn't look like he's here yet," she said, and shoved her shaking hands in her pockets.
"Well," Gina said, hitching her purse up on her shoulder, "that was the point of showing up half an hour early, wasn't it?"
"Gotta case the joint," Ivy said, in her best Brooklyn accent, and Gina laughed. "Where are you sitting?"
"Bar," Gina decided, and kissed Ivy's cheek. "I'll be down at the end collecting phone numbers if you need me."
"Ladies." A harassed-looking waitress bustled up to them. "Two?"
"Ah, no, one," Gina said, and slid past her. "I'm only here for a drink."
The waitress looked after Gina, which was not unusual, with a rather puzzled look, which was, then turned to Ivy. "All right then, booth or table?"
"Booth," Ivy said, "and I'm waiting for someone, but I expect he'll find me when he shows." After all, she looked like her mother, and as crowded as the Denny's was, she was the only bright redhead in there.
"Right," the waitress said, looking slightly relieved. "Name?"
"Ivy Hirschfeld-Kendall," Ivy said, emphasing Kendall. She hadn't meant to, but she found she was doing it more and more lately, an old habit from her childhood resurfacing under stress.
"And your guest?"
"He's..." Ivy paused, suddenly struck by the realization that she didn't even know his last name. Or rather, she knew it, she was sure she knew it, but she couldn't remember it at all. "He's Brad. He'll be looking for me."
The waitress gave her an odd look, then said, "All right, here you go, dear. I'll be over in a bit to get you drinks." She deposited a menu in front of Ivy, another across from her after a moment of hesitation, and departed.
Denny's menus were all the same. Ivy scanned it idly for the sake of killing some time, then picked the least dreadful-looking thing on the menu-- hot chocolate and a side of toast. She'd become a lot more health-conscious since she met Gina. Not that she'd been totally ignorant of nutrition before they started dating, but Gina was the one who really knew her stuff.
Speaking of Gina. She glanced up at the bar, and smiled to see her girlfriend in animated conversation with the (just as attractive) bartender. Judging from the hand gestures, they were commiserating about people hitting on them. Or maybe sex. That particular motion was pretty unmistakeable.
"Ivy?"
Her throat clogged, and she looked away from Gina, up to the man standing over her booth.
Her first surprised thought was that he looked dignified. She'd expected... she didn't know what she'd expected; an overgrown fratboy waving a bottle of beer, maybe, or a sleazy, potbellied hick. She'd never expected him to wear a neat white shirt, or to have brown hair combed carefully, or to wear shiny black shoes and a thin black tie like the Mormon missionaries who'd come around every month before she and Summer and Aaron scared them off for good. He looked... respectable.
There was almost nothing of herself in him, not that she could see. She had her mother's red hair and her mother's sharp chin, the same high cheekbones and athletic build and pretty hands. But this man... they both had blue eyes.
The silence had stretched out, and his smile had twisted, become uncomfortable. Ivy gasped, and said, "Oh! Hi! God, I'm sorry, it's been a weird day."
"No, no, that's all right." He shifted, awkwardly. "Are you, uh..."
"Sit down," Ivy said. In her hurry, it came out as an order.
He sat, and looked at her. Ivy squirmed. What the hell was all of this...
"Wow," he said, and smiled, oddly shy. "Look at you."
She blinked, and glanced down at herself. She hadn't gone to any particular trouble today; slacks, loose hair, jacket and a worn-out band shirt for Bedrock Drift that Aaron had given her after their first concert. "Something wrong?"
"No, no, it's just..." He shook his head. "I haven't seen you since you were a baby."
Her budding good mood deflated abruptly. "Yeah," she said. "Thanks for reminding me."
"Oh, no," he said, and ran a hand through his hair, disarranging it in an endearing way. Ivy couldn't tell if it was practiced or not. "I'm sorry, that wasn't what I wanted to say. Look, I know I was awful to you and your mother. I was... I was real bad off back then. Wasn't thinking too straight."
"No kidding," Ivy said. "So... you're back, I gather you want... what? To reconnect?"
He nodded, enthusiastically. "Yeah! Yeah, that's it exactly. I want to be your father, Ivy. I know you probably don't feel like you can trust me, but I promise..."
Aha. She'd better cut that misconception off at the pass. Ivy sighed, and interrupted him. "Okay, I can see a problem. I appreciate that you're related to me and all, but I've already got a father."
He frowned, puzzled lines forming in his forehead. "I don't understand."
Ivy repeated herself.
He shook his head, and gave her a questioning smile. "Now, I know you're angry and confused, but I'm your father, sweetiepie. You can't have another one."
Oh, really. Ivy inhaled deeply, trying to keep away from anger. He was only trying to reconnect, he was only trying to reconnect... "Fatherhood is not just a blood relation, it's an emotional bond, which I'd say--"
"--but I want to build that bond--" he said, trying to interrupt.
Ivy had two siblings and a number of excellent friends, and as such was quite capable of making herself heard over a mob. This guy was no challenge. "--I'd say you don't have," she said, carrying right on over him. "And if you're going to make a parental rights argument, I'm twenty-eight and a full legal adult, and besides Dad adopted me when I was five so they'd be his anyway." She leaned back in the booth, folded her arms across her chest, and looked at her biological father, eyebrow raised. Your move.
He looked completely flabbergasted. As if she'd hit him in the back of the head with a two-by-four.
Not that Ivy would know what that looked like. Really.
Finally, Brad spoke up. "He adopted you?" he said. Even his voice was stunned. "But I'm your father."
"Yeah, well, you weren't around," Ivy said. "You want to be in my life, I'm okay with that, maybe. But you have to understand that I have a father, and you aren't him."
Brad wasn't listening. "That bitch," he said.
Ivy stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"You're my daughter," he told her, in a tone that should have accompanied a finger being shaken in her face. It was probably a good thing that it didn't, really, because Ivy, mature as she was, could not have promised not to bite it. "Mine. Nobody else has any rights to you."
Don't get pissed. Don't get pissed, he's only surprised. "You weren't around," Ivy said, very patiently. "The state decided that was abandonment, so they took your paternal rights and gave them to my dad. Them's the breaks. Do you actually want to talk about the future or just bitch about stuff that's your fault?"
Brad sat back, looking briefly as if he'd been slapped, before that melted into a relieved expression and he shook his head. "Of course, I understand," he said. "Look, I know your mother must have been very angry, and I know she wanted to hurt me, but please, Ivy, you don't have to keep it up. I always loved you, no matter what happened between the two of us."
"Uh-huh," Ivy said. Somehow she didn't believe him. "I'm sure. Since you were so demonstrative and all that."
"I just want you to know that it's all right," he told her, earnestly. "I forgive you. I know you can't help what your mother and her new... friend have told you."
Oh, God. He did not get it. He was actively not getting it. Ivy folded her arms on the table and leaned over them. "Listen very closely," she said, "because I'm only going to say this once more. You are not my father. If you want to be in my life, we can talk about it, but that is not under discussion."
Brad gave her a hearty smile that was more than a little bit fake. "Now, Ivy, I'm sure you're just upset, and once you think about it..."
"You," Ivy began again, contradicting herself, but screw it. "Are not. My father. Nathan Kendall is my father. You're... I don't know. A sperm donor."
He drew back, expression totally offended. Rather like Gus the cat when he'd been offered inferior food, Ivy thought, and had to bite back another grin. "Sperm donor? I never..."
"And the more you harp on this," she added, "the less likely I am to let you in my life. So's you know."
"Ivy, I..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. "Ivy. You're my daughter, no matter what anyone--" Ivy clearly heard the unspoken 'your mother'-- "says. Some things are just natural. I don't see why you don't understand that."
She stared at him for a moment, then said, "All right, we're done here. Please feel free to fuck off and die."
He stared at her again. "What?"
Ivy rolled her eyes, and slid out of the booth, happy that she'd never ordered. From the corner of her eye, she saw Gina bid the bartender a hasty farewell, drop some change on the counter and hop off her stool. "I said we're done, and you can just walk right back out of my life. I'd say it's been nice knowing you, but I'd be lying." She marched towards the doorway, fury misting the edges of her mind. Don't scream, don't scream, don't scream...
"You okay?" That was Gina, slipping up beside her, and swinging open the door before Ivy could kick it. "Do I need to cut a bitch?"
"He insults my mother, he insults my father, he tells me my family isn't valid because he's got some kind of fucking genetic claim and then he patronizes me..." Ivy rubbed a hand over her eyes, wiping away angry tears. "I can't believe I was ever afraid of him. I can't believe I ever thought..." She trailed off, and glared at a passing businessman watching them curiously. He blinked, and hurried on.
"Fuck him," Gina said, with perfect calm, and took her hand. "Let's go get ice cream and make out."
Ivy grinned in spite of herself. "At the same time?"
"If you want," Gina said, and smiled at her.
"Might get a bit messy," Ivy said, for the sake of argument.
Gina put on a martyred look. "For you, my darling, I will endure. Come on, before he catches up."
Ivy squeezed Gina's hand. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"
"Don't get all sappy on me now," Gina said, and smiled at her. "I can't kiss you and walk at the same time."
"Okay. I'll save the sap for later," Ivy said, and balled her free hand into a fist. "Fucking bastard, who the hell does he think he is?"
"There you go," Gina said.
---
"...and then he starts insulting Mom!" Ivy said, torn between hilarity and indignation. "As if that was going to make me want him around! I swear, I was this close--" she held her thumb and forefinger together-- "to hauling off and popping him one."
"I'm impressed with your diplomacy," Nathan Kendall replied, dryly. "I honestly don't know if I would have been as restrained."
Ivy smiled at her father, and hooked her arm into the curve of his. "Yeah, well, I try to make you proud of me."
"And you succeed, every day." He hugged her arm, briefly. "What happened after that?"
"Oh, I just got up and walked out," Ivy said, trying not to grin like an idiot. "Then Gina and I got ice cream and cupcakes. She found this fabulous little place in the Lower East Side; best cupcakes in New York, and only a buck fifty each."
Her father groaned. "Lord, don't tell me where it is. I'm halfway to being diabetic as it stands."
"Right," Ivy said. "Anyway. Then we made out in the park and laughed at people being scandalized, went to see the dinosaurs, got drunk, dropped by a club and danced like morons. You know. All the things she knows that cheer me up. God, I love that woman."
"I am pleased to hear it," Nathan said. "Now get me and your mother some grandchildren, so she'll stop telling me how much she wants some."
Ivy, well aware that it was not only her mother who wanted grandchildren, rolled her eyes. "Dad, I am a lesbian. I don't have sex with men. There are no babies forthcoming."
"I believe your mother means adopted grandchildren," he said, "and please don't make me think about you having sex again, there's a love."
She giggled. "You know I'm not five anymore, right?"
"The extent of my involvement in my children's love lives is pretending that they don't have them," her father said, loftily. "Now you be a good daughter and let me keep my delusions. Speaking of, has he called again?"
"Yes," Ivy said. "Twice, both at ridiculous hours of the morning. I didn't answer. If he can't take a hint, fuck him."
"A reasonable attitude," Nathan said, nodding. "If a little crudely put."
She gave him a sidelong look. "You're a Navy vet, and the word 'fuck' shocks you?"
"Remember when you said you weren't five anymore?"
"Yes," Ivy said, slowly, not sure where this was going.
"I try to pretend you still are," he said, and sighed.
Ivy, about to make an unfortunate remark, thought better of it when she realized that he was not actually commenting on her age. "I'll always be your little girl, Daddy," she said, instead. "Though I'm afraid the swearing is here to stay."
She was rewarded with one of his rare but brilliant smiles. "You're almost thirty," he said. "I can make allowances for swearing."
"Glad to hear it," Ivy said, and they walked for a while in a comfortable silence that, for Ivy, was full of thinking.
Aaron had been afraid that she would leave them, forget her family when shown blood relations. Maybe he hadn't put it quite like that, but that was what he'd meant, and if Ivy was honest with herself, that was what she had been afraid of as well. She had a family. She hadn't wanted to lose it. Even if he'd been a good man with a good claim, he hadn't fed her or cuddled her or loved her or told her that he would always be her father, always. She'd been afraid that his presence meant she would lose that by default.
But then again, she thought, looking at her father, how could she ever have thought that the man she'd left behind in the Denny's could replace him?
I am your father. I will always be your father, for as long as you want me to be.
How could she have thought that he would ever love her less?
Abruptly, she nudged him with her shoulder. "So, Daddy," she said, persuasively. "Can we go get ice cream now?"
He gave her a sidelong look. "I thought you just got ice cream."
"Dad," Ivy said, mock-exasperated. "That was a whole day ago. There's blood in my sugar veins and everything. Can we go get ice cream?"
Her father rolled his eyes, then kissed the top of her head. "Yes, we can go get ice cream. But you are buying."
"Pff," Ivy said. "Some father you are. Won't even treat your precious firstborn daughter to an ice cream cone."
"Ungrateful child," he said, cheerfully. "Too cheap to spend a few bucks on your old man. There's a good place over there."
Best father in the world, Ivy thought, and they walked on.
