Page 129 of Clint & Ivy
Today, Ford, Shay, Elle, and Sutter met Ivy and me at the batting cages before our family dinner at a steakhouse. I had smiled when my dad suggested it, knowing he hoped to rope Ivy into our Reed family habit.
My tiny girlfriend looked far less impressed when we arrived. She seemed especially uncomfortable while we slid a helmet on her head. Ivy was reluctant to even hold the bat. Despite watching Sutter swing, she seemed to believe she was too small to be in the cage.
“Take ten swings,” Ford insisted when Ivy got stuck at the entrance to the cage. “If you can’t hit any, you can give up and watch Clint flex his muscles.”
Ivy instantly smiled at the idea of me showing off my moves. Stepping into the cage, she had no intention of trying to hit the balls. The entire thing was a performance she planned to put on for Ford’s benefit.
The first two balls flying past her scared the shit out of Ivy. She nearly scrambled out of the cage. Elle didn’t help by claiming the balls were the size of Ivy’s head.
“Save your Hobbit honey,” she told me.
Ivy wanted so badly to give up. She searched my face for permission. I smiled, so she knew it was okay to stop. Before she gave up, her gaze flashed to Ford.
My father didn’t offer Ivy a reassuring smile. Not because he was angry. I suspected Ford was considering what to order at the restaurant. The man had been going back and forth between chicken and steak since we arrived at the batting cages.
But Ivy thought his grumpy expression was Ford becoming upset with her. With no resistance to a father’s disappointment, she forced herself to remain in the cage. The next two balls made her flinch. She nearly dropped the bat swinging at the fifth and sixth balls.
Ivy peeked at Ford and inhaled deeply. She was so close to crying in frustration. Steeling herself, Ivy clipped the next ball. The bat flew out of her hands, but she seemed pleasantly surprised to even make contact.
“Your timing is good,” Ford says, having likely chosen what to order and now paying attention. “Hold the bat tighter and lower your swing slightly.”
Ivy nodded like she was on a mission to please this man. She nearly got the next ball. On her ninth try, she hit it hard enough to send the ball up into the net and the bat flying in the opposite direction.
Bouncing around with delight as we applauded, Ivy looked so happy. If it had been up to me, I’d have let her quit from the start. I didn’t like to push Ivy. I wanted her to feel safe and confident. Failure didn’t always build character. Sometimes, it made people meek and afraid.
So excited over hitting the ball, Ivy didn’t stop after the tenth one. She kept at it until I warned that her shoulder would likely hurt tomorrow. Having hit multiple balls, Ivy bounced out of the cages and into my arms.
“You’re a natural athlete,” I said, impressed by how quickly she had picked up sports.
Shay cooed over Ivy’s success while Elle took a turn. Soon, Sutter was back at it. He missed ball after ball, though his mom applauded and hooted as if he hit every single one.
The way Ivy watched Sutter made me think a child was in our near future. I knew she’d make a great mom. Ivy was incredibly affectionate and organized when it came to people. She had already learned the birthdays of each member of the club. She dug up personal info on each one, too. That was why she knew Farley would enjoy his red velvet birthday cake a few days ago.
Motherhood would be a boon for her, but I hoped we’d wait. As much as Ivy loved to take care of others, I wanted her to spoil herself for a while. Or maybe I was being selfish and didn’t want to share Ivy with someone cuter than me. I already had to compete with Hanzee.
As we prepared to leave the batting cage, I admired my family standing with Ivy. I rarely had friends outside my club family. I grew up distrusting outsiders. Yet, Ivy fit perfectly into the family as if she were destined to be a Reed.
Lost in my thoughts, I nearly ignored the call from Stevie before realizing she had never called me before. The foxes were stone-cold texters. Alarmed, I stopped walking to the parking lot and answered.
“We got attacked at the courthouse parking garage,” Stevie said as soon as she heard my voice. “They were ‘Men in Black’ types. We killed a bunch of them, but a second group showed up. I think they killed Cher,” Stevie said, sounding ready to cry. “They shot me and took Lula in a black sedan. I’m hiding behind a big SUV. I don’t know what to do. Clint, they killed my big sister.”
“Stay hidden. We’re coming,” I promised, sounding calm despite my rage and fear. “Stay on the phone and talk to Elle.”
I handed my phone to my sister and reached into her back pocket for hers. Ford immediately noticed my behavior.
“What’s happening?”
“We’re under attack. Lula’s been grabbed. Cher and Stevie are in trouble. I’ve got to go.”
Standing next to me, Ivy stared in horror as I sent out a club-wide alert. Ford was on his phone, warning our allies. Once I was finished, I cupped Ivy’s face.
“I have to go. Stay with my parents. Do whatever Ford says. I’ll be back soon.”
Ivy grabbed hold of my wrists. That stubborn part of her was about to demand I stay. Her fearful side also hoped I wouldn’t leave.
But something clicked inside her head, and I saw her accepting how this was my life.
“I love you,” was all she needed to say.
