‘Of course.’ ‘So, how was it last night? Ivy blushed so hard she could feel her scalp prickle. ‘That good huh?’ laughed Ruth. ‘Uh huh,’ Ivy said as she concentrated on brushing her teeth. ‘You like him don’t you?’ Finally she met Ruth’s inquisitive gaze ‘So much it’s scaring me,’ she admitted quietly. They were far enough away from the fire that there was no way anyone could hear their conversation but it seemed like speaking the words any louder might make it more real and sabotage the situation. ‘Wow.’ Ruth looked surprised for a moment but then she smiled again and squeezed Ivy’s hand. ‘D’you think you guys going to keep…’ ‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Ivy said quickly, ‘I mean we —we don’t have much in common and he lives in London and —It would never work in the long term.’ ‘That’s weird,’ Ruth replied, ‘The way he was looking at you earlier, I thought it seemed more serious than a one time thing.’ ‘You did?’ Ivy tried to ignore the warm feeling that flickered in her chest. ‘We didn’t. I sat down on the couch out of fear that my legs would buckle from the weight of it all. That was the year that our son, Everett, died. His life was cut short just before he had matured into a young man of twenty. ‘Too many dreams left unmanifested,’ I thought. I quickly shook myself away from thoughts that only lead to the threatening mires of moroseness. And so, like I always did, I changed my perception and embraced the swirl of energy as if Everett had again come to visit and to remind me that everything is just dandy with him. Is that when I first discovered that traversing back and forth from the struggle of suffering to the stoicism of security actually created my own personal meandering path of becoming creatively engaged in life? Now, my creative mind worked quickly to imagine that any heaviness of sadness was Everett’s way of asking for my attention. Maybe, that is because I do not really think about him when I am happy. Suddenly, I got the idea to imagine seeing.
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