Ivy

“Dad!” I scream through my childhood home. 

When SWAT declared Kelso’s house clean, I raced in and grabbed my bag and keys. I flew out of the house with Kelso on my heels, asking me to slow down and talk before I left. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to see my wet eyes, which shone with shame. He’ll tell me it isn’t my fault and that we’ll work through it, come up with a plan. Kelso doesn’t know I overheard his family last night. Slater, Mackson, and Pacer won’t sit idle and do nothing, and I wouldn’t blame them. You can’t hold down a lion and not expect it to strike.

However, he’s my father, and the little girl inside me wants to protect her father and also show him face-to-face how his actions have hurt me today. How he’s killed off yet another integral part of my soul that he helped mold into who I am today. He’s tearing down the strong woman he created, hurting me more than anyone else ever has. Slowly the good and fair world he made me believe in is being destroyed right before my eyes, and the destroyer… is its creator.

And Kelso, he’ll go against his family for me. It will cause a rift, one I won’t stand by and allow to grow. My broken family will not break his. 

“Dad!”

“Jesus Christ, Ivy. The whole neighborhood would have heard you by now.” 

I spin around and find my father standing in the doorway to the back porch, dressed in his crisp work uniform, his gun hanging on his hip.

“How could you?” I seethe. 

My father’s eyes slide to the side and his chest rises and falls as he sighs. He turns his back to me and retreats out the back.

Pushing the screen door open to our wide porch, I find my father sitting in his chair, picking up the daily newspaper.

“Do not ignore me.” I speak the words slowly, attempting to keep myself calm, but fail as my voice dips low. 

My father throws down the paper and jumps from his chair. “You dare talk to me this way?” he demands with a high chin and noisy breathing. 

“You dare treat me this way,” I reply, with as much fire in my eyes as I see in his. “To send SWAT into my friends’ home for no reason other than you don’t like who I’m dating!”

“Friends,” my father sneers. “Lowlifes, drug addicts, scum. Instead of working a day in their lives, they steal and cheat their way through life. They’re not people you should be proud to know, Ivy. We taught you better!” He ends on a shout.

Tensing my entire body, I fist my hands until I feel pain. Frustration builds. I want to shout and beat my hands against his chest. I want to hurt him, lay a low blow and cause him pain. Instead I take a deep breath, because in the same way my father taught me to treat all people with respect, he’s recently taught me that cruel words in moments of anger hurt, and there’s no wiping them away; they stain the soul forever.

“But that’s it, you don’t know them. They work harder than most people I know, and they’re not drug addicts. My heart breaks for you, Dad, to hear how you view them and know how wrong you are. Your stubbornness is tearing us apart.” I expected tears as the agony of the truth of my words flowed through my heart. But none came. Not a single ounce of care went through me. After all this time, I was now numb to my Dad’s careless actions. “Stop this. You’re hurting good people. Piper is a wonderful child services worker. She’s saved lives, and through your hatred, God knows what kids may have needed her help and she hasn’t been there for them.” 

 My father’s eyes drop to the ground as he leans thoughtfully back on the porch railing. It kills me that it took saying something for him to think about it this way. How could he not have thought about who he’s hurting? How could the father I know be so cruel? 

“Let me tell you about them. You’d be surprised at what they’ve been through, and despite the challenges, who they’ve become.” I teetered on the edge of begging, but held myself back, keeping my voice even and clear. Staying strong in this moment is important to me. Showing my father that no matter what he does, he can’t change me and who I love. 

Pushing off the railing, my father raises his eyebrows with skepticism. “Lies, Ivy. They filled your head with lies.”

“I trust them. Kelso has earned it. That should be enough for you.” Tightness builds in my chest as my jaw aches from frustration.

Kelso made me promise not to tell a soul… but my father knowing how much of a good man Kelso is, given his past, might change everything. We could be a family. Kelso would be welcomed into my childhood home on holidays and we could all become close. My father could look forward to the future, possibly a wedding, grandchildren. He might slowly come back to me. He’d have something to hold on to in this life. I’m not enough, maybe he needs more. 

Sitting back down, my father lets out a heavy sigh. He closes his eyes and scrubs a hand down his face, scratching his freshly shaven face. “Have at it, then. Tell me about them.” He gestures for me to sit in the chair opposite him. 

Slowly I make my way over and take a seat. 

No one can know, Ivy. It’s a weakness I can’t let get out. 

Freezing for a moment, I rethink what I’m about to do. 

I promise, Kelso. You can trust me. 

I’m breaking a promise. Putting my relationship on the line, but it’s all for good, isn’t it? 

Is this how it feels to be backed into a corner? Each way out has a price that needs to be paid. 

I say nothing to my father and continue to hope he will stop because I ask him to, knowing that one more attempt at forcing Kelso out of my life will get my Dad hurt. Whether he cares or not, I do. Or Kelso will decide I’m too much trouble. His family is already on the brink of begging him to push me away. They want peace, and I only bring storms.

Or I explain to my father why they live the way they do. Family first at any cost. Why their reputations have nothing to do with who they really are. Tell him what they’ve endured, how strong they really are. How could my father learn of their past and not have it break his heart? How could he ever wish Kelso more suffering? 

I may not know the man before me, but deep down to the middle of my heart I know who my father really is, and he’s not a monster. He’s a protector, and right now he’s lost. He can be found. I want to give him another chance.

With dread in my heart and hope in my mind, I tell my father everything Kelso told me. Their abuse in what they thought was a foster home. The lost sister who signaled their need to run from the house of horrors. Near starvation on the streets. Learning to rebuild cars and working long hours, seven days a week, until they could get their own home. Building their business from the bottom up. 

Kelso told me they raced for money and car slips. It helped in getting them on their feet and into their home, but I’ll keep that information from my father. While there’s nothing wrong with what they did, I will not allow my father to find any doubt in who they are today. I won’t allow what they needed to do to cloud what they went through. I also know they killed the monster who stole them and kept them captive. The secret will never leave my lips. Kelso didn’t kill him, but he wished he did. I wish I could have too.

As I speak, my father’s gaze swings from me to the backyard, fighting hard not to make eye contact with me. After a while his stare falls to the table and stays there. His mouth opens and closes, as if he’s struggling for words. I felt the same way when Kelso told me. There are no words when you hear of such torment and agony.

When I finish, my father wears a pensive expression. He stares into the backyard, his eyes reflecting deep thought. Blowing out a big breath he says, “Sorry, I don’t know what to say. You’ve caught me off guard.” 

“There are no words invented for this kind of anguish. When you meet them, you’ll see the past did not meld them. They took the hate and anger and built a family, not through blood, but loyalty and love. They created their own world, and it’s beautiful, safe, and comforting.” I bounce up from my seat, excited. “I can’t wait for you to meet them and for them to meet the real you.” 

My father stands and motions for me to settle down. “Hang on now, Ivy. I didn’t say I would meet them.” He paces the porch. “I need time to think. It’s a lot of information to take in.”

“Think what over? They have bad reputations, who wouldn’t after their childhoods?” Using my hands, I count down how foolish my father is still being. “They’ve never been in jail, or even arrested. You did your stupid drug search, nothing was found. They run a reputable business. They pay their bills and stay out of everyone’s way. They only want to be safe and happy.” 

“Gossip is ripe with the evil deeds of the Portland Street Kings.” My father’s voice is full of longing, as if the world he built to justify his actions is crumbling right before his eyes.

“Gossip,” I reply angrily. “Stupid gossip, whispered and changed as it’s spoken from person to person.”

“Stop,” he yells in a gruff voice. “I can see how desperate you are for me to change my mind about Kelso, but you need to give me time to take this all in.” 

“He means so much to me,” I whisper.

“Clearly,” my father says grimly.

This isn’t how I pictured the conversation ending. I thought my father would see the error of his ways and apologize. Beg for me to come and see him more often, to rebuild what he’s broken. 

“Can you at least admit what you’ve done is wrong. You’ve taken jobs from good people, put their business at risk, and invaded their home, their safe place, for nothing except your own petty bitterness. Promise me you’ll stop. Promise me you’ll do the right thing and make it up to them. They deserve that much.”  

“I have to get to work,” my father states, walking past me and into the house. His voice is emotionless, as if he didn’t learn something earth-shattering, painful, and moving. I broke Kelso’s trust for nothing. Their past means nothing to him; their suffering changes nothing when it should change everything. 

A breeze blows my hair into my face, but I don’t move; I’m unable to. My uncaring father has shattered any bit of hope I held out for us. There’s nothing else I could say. Every plea has been worn out. 

Forcing my feet to move, I follow the sounds of my father’s footsteps and dangling keys. He’s about to walk out the front door when I decide this will be the last thing I ever ask of my father. “Please don’t tell anyone what I told you. Kelso and his family want no one to know about their past.” 

My father stills and turns to me. His gaze roams my face, and for a split second I think I see sadness and regret flash through his eyes, perhaps acknowledging that the numbness running through me is all his fault. However, as quickly as it came, it’s gone, and my father gives me a firm nod of agreement and then he’s gone, shutting the door as easily as he shut me out of his life. 

Mom. A sob whispers through my mind as I sink to my knees. I stay unmoving, for how long I have no idea. I don’t cry. I don’t speak. I stare at the door, but I’m no longer present. I’m in my mind, shattering glasses to the floor, throwing dining chairs against the walls. Smashing frames and ripping up pictures, tearing apart my father’s world as he tore up mine. When the house is destroyed, I stand and peer around my immaculate childhood home, where safety and endless possibilities once reigned. The future of my relationship with Kelso now rests in my dad’s hands. He can make my dreams come true, or break my heart. All I can do is hope he’s still the father my memories scream he was.