Wild Swans - Jessica Spotswood Page 0,48
sense of dread. Granddad called twice while I was with Connor. I ignored both calls. I never do that, but after that scene Erica made, I think I deserved a few hours to myself without constantly gauging the temperature of the room, without that sick, anxious feeling that spins in my stomach as soon as I see her car in the driveway, without the constant tally in my head of whether the thing I’ve just said or done is something she would say or do, something a Milbourn girl would say or do.
I’m so tired of the push and pull of living up to Granddad’s expectations or down to her example. It doesn’t feel like there’s any room left for me in between.
“Ivy! Is that you?” Granddad calls, so I reluctantly make my way back to the kitchen. In the living room, a Disney movie murmurs, but Grace has fallen asleep in a nest of pillows, clutching her stuffed puppy. She looks so little. Vulnerable. She deserves a better mother.
So do I.
“Here she is. Liar number three,” Isobel mutters with a glare. She and Granddad sit at the kitchen table while Erica leans against the granite counter, her arms folded across her chest. To my surprise, she doesn’t have a glass of wine in her hand. Yet.
“Where have you been?” Granddad asks. “Grace said you ran off.”
“I went to Abby’s.” I fiddle with the strap of my sundress and try not to blush as I remember Connor sliding it off my shoulder and tracing its path with his mouth.
I am a terrible liar, but it’s not like Granddad is going to guess that I was at Connor’s, making out with him and then playing video games with his roommate. Josh is really nice. When he met me, he said, “So this is the infamous Ivy,” and Connor punched him on the shoulder and told him to shut up. I couldn’t stop smiling because that meant Connor was talking about me to his friends, same as I was talking about him to mine.
Granddad frowns. “You didn’t answer your phone.”
We have a strict rule that when he calls, I pick up. He doesn’t check in much, so it’s not usually a problem.
“Can you blame me for not wanting to come home after the scene she made?” I ask, waving a hand at Erica.
“I need you to answer the phone when I call you,” he says.
“I’m sorry.” I drop into the chair between him and Iz. “I just needed some time. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Of course not. You’re too responsible for that,” Erica mocks.
“Erica, we’ve already established that this situation is not Ivy’s fault.”
Great. They’ve already been fighting about me.
“It is too Ivy’s fault. It’s all of your faults,” Isobel grumbles, and there’s some truth to that. We all owe her an apology. “You made such a big deal out of wanting Gracie and me to feel at home here. How are we supposed to do that when you’ve been lying to us?”
“I understand that we’ll need to earn your trust.” Granddad folds his hands on the table like he’s preparing for an inquisition. “You want to know something, just ask.”
Iz only scowls. “That’s easy to say now. It isn’t like you told a little white lie to spare our feelings. This was a huge lie. We have a big sister we never knew about! For fifteen years, I thought I was the big sister!” Her voice breaks, her red-rimmed eyes welling up with tears. She swipes at them furiously, and I get the sense she doesn’t like crying in front of people any more than I do.
“You are, Iz. You’re a great big sister. You always look out for Grace,” Erica says, and I am struck by her gentle tone. “The three of us, we’re a family. A real family. The kind that sticks together through ups and downs.”
Granddad smacks the table with the flat of his hand, and Iz and I both jump in our seats. “That’s nonsense and you know it, Erica! I stuck by you through all your mistakes, and we both know there were a hell of a lot. You’re the one who walked out, on Ivy and on me.”
I fold my hands in my lap so tightly that the knuckles go white. Granddad doesn’t lose his temper. He doesn’t cuss. He doesn’t hit things. This exhibition of temper isn’t like him, and I hate that Iz is seeing it without years of kindness to balance