“What does that mean?”

“It’s light blue with red brick, white shutters, and lace curtains in the windows.”

“It has good bones. You’re not going to be one of ‘those’ are you?”

“One of those what?”

“A person who nitpicks at things that are easy fixes. The paint color can change, the shutters can come down, and the curtains can be replaced with blinds, if she even leaves them with the house. Look at the nice yard and the neighborhood.”

“Painting a house is not a quick or a cheap fix. And see, even you said ‘she,’ meaning a woman lives there. I want something manly, which is why I bought the loft. I bet it’s full of flowered wallpaper. How much is this one anyway?”

“A little over three-hundred thousand.”

“You know we can spend almost twice that. You don’t have to go cheap. This is a house we’ll most likely be in for decades.”

“Cheap? Are you crazy? The house I grew up in is probably worth about seventy grand. I haven’t been around large amounts of money for as long as you have. It takes some getting used to. Call me conservative if you want, but not cheap.”

“Alright, if you’re done with your rant, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sure it’s a nice house, but we can afford to go up a bit in price. What’s next?”

She looks over her list then types a new address into the GPS. “The next one’s just a few minutes from here, and closer to the Scarlett.”

“But it has a yard, right?”

“Yep,” she takes out her phone to look at the photos online. “It’s a three-story, traditional, all brick, five bedroom home built in 1904. Completely renovated with a pool.”

“No shit?”

“I thought you’d like that. Plus a garage.”

“How much?”

“Six-hundred and thirty thousand.”

“Soph,” I sigh, placing my coffee in the cup holder. “That’s steep.”

“You just said...”

“I know, I know. Look, let’s keep it between four and five hundred grand so we have money left in the bank. I don’t want to be house rich and cash poor. After we sell our loft and the one you inherited from your father, we’ll have enough for a home in the four or five price range and have a decent amount to place in the bank, but I don’t want us to be without cash.”

“Oh, I love this song!”

I smile as my crazy ass wife turns up the sound system and enters another address into the GPS. She gets what I’m trying to say without having to respond, plus, it’s fucking awesome and downright hilarious to listen to her sing, off-key I should add, and I don’t care that she didn’t nod, or say uh-huh, or have any response about the money. She’s just being Sophia, and I love her, Alfalfa sounding voice and all. I laugh as she slaughters the song. It’s clear that she truly does love it, like she said, but only knows half the words. I recognize the voice as Pink, but I’m unsure of the name of the song.

“Ohh, from the start... mmm my heart... willing victim... oh mmm mmm talking in your sleep... yeah yeah yeah... our love.”

I know the lyrics, better than her, and I decide to sing along to show her how happy I am that we’re spending quality time with one another outside of the loft and the business. I dive in during the chorus and we belt out the words together.

“Hmm mmm a reason... little bit’s enough... not broken just bent...mmm mmm love again... on our hearts... not broken... learn to love again.”

She rolls down her window and places her arm out of the car, moving her hand in a wavelike motion through the air as I drive. Her happiness at the moment is priceless. Maybe it’s the sunlight hitting her face, or the glow of being pregnant, but I swear she’s never looked so beautiful. There’s a spark in her eyes and a passion for life that’s rubbing off on me, and I feel more alive today than I have in months.

“It’s so cute that you know that song.”

“Cute? Thanks, Soph. So this neighborhood we’re in, I think I’ve been here before. The street we’re on is familiar.” Of course it is, and that’s why... I see Ivy being helped by Kaitlyn up the steps of the old Victorian house. The one I was in last week, trashed out of my mind and attacked by David.

They’re home from the hospital, and she looks better, thank God. I parallel park while Sophia has an inquisitive look on her face.

“Over there,” I point. “I should say something, don’t you think? Ask her if she’s okay, or if she needs anything?”

She nods as Kaitlyn turns and sees us sitting in the car.

“I’ll be right back.”

“You want me to go with you?”

“No, the last interaction between you and Ivy wasn’t a pleasant one. I know you’ll be nice, but let me speak with her alone first.” I close the door and walk down the tree lined sidewalk. An overabundance of birds chirp as I approach. It feels like the trumpets are sounding outside a castle as a drawbridge lowers, announcing my arrival. Kaitlyn whispers something in her daughter’s ear and makes an escape inside her home, probably humiliated and unable to face me after my night with her and David.

Ivy walks to the edge of her mother’s property, sluggish, with a wounded expression.

“You feeling better?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” she responds in a dry scratchy voice. I’m sure the process of having her stomach pumped has left her with a sore throat, and I’m surprised she’s home so soon.

“No need to apologize. People have good days and bad days. Shit happens.”

“I meant about the rape accusation. I apologize, Cove.”

I nod as her eyes well with tears. It’s clear she’s in a depressive state, and shit if I don’t know how she feels. I take her into my arms and hold her tightly, a gesture that’s completely out of character for me, but I can tell she needs my sympathy and support. It’s all I can do for her, and probably all she really needs.

“I’m sorry all of this happened to you, Ivy. Things will get better. They always do.” She takes a small step away and wipes her tears.

“My mom thinks I should go to rehab. She tried to convince the hospital staff to take me away last night, but they said it was my decision; they couldn’t force me to go because they didn’t believe I was suicidal. I wasn’t, you know? I OD’d, but I wasn’t trying to take my own life. I wanted to change my mood and have some fun.”

“I understand.”

“But I’m going,” she whispers. “I’m going to check myself in somewhere and get better. That’s my decision, not hers.”

“It’s a good one. You’re smart for doing so and I’ll come and visit you if you’d like.”

“That’d be nice,” she says with a look of surprise. “Big brother.”

I flash a sincere smile back and then look to Sophia. She waves and I wink back at her.

“We’re looking at real estate today. When we’re settled in a new home we’ll have you over for dinner, but you’ll have to put up with my wife’s strange meals. She’s an okay cook, but doesn’t know how to pair the right foods together. Like, she might make pasta with hot dogs. When it’s my turn to cook I usually just order out. Maybe we’ll do that. Get a pizza or something.”

The smile on her face is a magnificent change from the image of her lifeless body on the ground. I’ve given her something to look forward to, similar to what I’ve come to realize about my own life.

“Thanks, Cove,” she nods.

“People love you, Ivy. Including my father. Trust me, he feels terrible about everything, but I know he’s gonna work to make it right. Just give it some time, things will get better.”

“He chose you over me.”

“No,” I shake my head. “I have a feeling he chose my mother over yours.” Uh, that sounded harsh, but it’s all I could think to say. I don’t even know if it’s true, but it takes the weight of feeling unloved off of the two of us. She disappears behind the front door of Kaitlyn’s house, and the curtains in the living room close. No doubt, Kaitlyn’s being a bitch. I still despise that woman, and feel bad Ivy has to be in that house with her. Poor kid.