Right my Wrongs

Chapter 37- Do you think I have forgotten?

                                                       Ivy

Another week passes by like the tides ebbing and flowing and Spencer remains unresponsive to any of my calls or texts. I see him almost every day in our class, but his eyes and I feel guilty and frightened that he might reject me if I try to talk to him.

On my way back to the dorm on a grey day, I get a call from my mom.

"Hey, mum. How have you been?"

"Hey, sweetie. I'm good. You're coming home right?'' Her soft voice comes in through the phone. What is she talking about? As soon as the realization hits me, a wave of guilt washes over me. How could I forget Dad's birthday? Tears begin to form in my eyes as I walk down the street. Ever since we lost him, our tradition of having lunch together at my house, where Mum would prepare all of Dad's favourite dishes, became a cherished routine.

"OMG! How could I forget? I'm on my way, Mum. I'll be there," I exclaim with enthusiasm, my voice filled with a mix of excitement and remorse. She chuckles softly on the other end of the line.

As I enter the flower shop, the sweet scent of blooms fills the air, instantly transporting me to a place of fond memories. I scan the colourful array of flowers, searching for the perfect bouquet to honour my dad's memory. And there they are, the vibrant Fuchsia roses, his absolute favourites.

As I navigate through the crowded streets, I carefully make my way towards the waiting cab. Suddenly, a break in the cityscape reveals a breathtaking sight - the sun emerges from behind the towering buildings, casting its warm glow upon the bustling metropolis. Its rays gently caress my skin, infusing me with a renewed sense of vitality.

After a pleasant 30-minute drive, I arrive at my desired destination. As I reach the front door, I take a deep breath and press the doorbell, its familiar chime echoing through the quiet neighbourhood.

"Hey, Noah!" I pat my little brother's head affectionately, and he responds with a shy smile. The sentimental rush of memories fills my heart as I step inside. The scent of books on the shelf immediately takes me back to countless evenings spent in the company of my dad, engrossed in his astrophysics readings, his round glasses perched on his nose. I can still picture him sitting on the couch, his passion evident in every page he turned. And then there were those late nights at the dining table, where he diligently checked his students' papers, bathed in the soft glow of dim light.

"Where's Mom?" I inquire, looking at Noah, who's sipping his smoothie on the couch. He points towards the kitchen, and I hang my bag on the chair at the dining table before making my way into the kitchen.

"Mum?" I say looking around the kitchen.

"Here," my mom responds to my call, and I follow her voice to find her crouched on the ground, wearing oven mitts as she carefully takes out the freshly baked pie from the oven. As she stands up, she proudly presents the apple pie to me, tilting the oven plate slightly."How does it look?" She adds.

"Mouthwatering,'' I reply with a smile and she gestures me to place the plates on the dining table. I quickly assemble the table settings and take my seat, eagerly awaiting the feast that awaits us. Mom brings over the fragrant fajitas and the ziti pasta she prepared, filling the air with tantalizing aromas.

After our hearty meal, Noah heads back to his room while I help mum in cleaning the dirty dishes.

"How's college treating you so far?" Mum questions as she ties her apron.

"All right, I guess,'' I respond plainly. "I got an internship though,'' I add.

"What?? Why didn't you tell me about it? That's some great news.'' She responds with great zeal.

"It didn't occur to me, I suppose. I've been caught up in my own thoughts," I admit, feeling a pang of guilt.

"Come on, Ivy! Be a little lively," Mum says, affectionately wrapping her arm around my shoulder and giving me a gentle squeeze.

"Mum, can I ask you something?"

"Sure sweetie.'' She says.

"Do you miss Dad?" I ask.

Mum takes a deep breath, her gaze drifting off into the distance for a moment. "Every day, Ivy. Every day," she says softly, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "But you know, no matter how much we miss him, life goes on. We have to keep moving forward. Whatever happened back then, it was beyond our control. There's nothing we could've done to prevent it. I only hope and pray that wherever your dad is he's happy."

"You know I always blamed myself for what happened. I don't know if you know this but I had a fight with him over the call before his car...''

"I know sweetie. It's not your fault. Nobody saw this coming and don't beat yourself for it. I'm sure Dad must be proud of where you are now in life and he'll always love his little Ivy."

Her words resonate deeply within me, and I feel a mix of relief and sorrow. For years, I blamed myself, longing for things to have been different, shedding tears and carrying the weight of regret in my heart. Mum's words bring me solace and strength.

"Don't you have anything spicy to share?" Mum suddenly changes the topic, her voice infused with a touch of mischief. I give her a puzzled look, wondering what she means.

"I mean are you dating anyone?" Mum doesn't have the slightest clue about how the tables have turned over the past 6 months. I never felt the need to tell Mum about Jason. And I would love to tell Mum about Spencer but we aren't exactly on good terms and I doubt if we'll be.

"I am not. I mean things are complicated.'' I reply.

"Is it a good guy? And by good I don't mean the ones you dated in high school-

"He's an awfully good guy and I can't even begin to explain how much I like him.'' I blurt out.

"Does he feel the same way about you?" Mum questions.

"I think so. But I think I messed up big time.'' I reply.

Mum places a comforting hand on my shoulder, "No one is perfect, Ivy. We all make mistakes in love. What matters is how we learn from them and how we choose to move forward," she says, her words laced with wisdom. I lean into her embrace as I feel tears trickling down my face. "But I don't think things can get better and what sucks is that despite everything. I solely and only long for him."

"Did you try to talk to him?" Mum asks.

"I did. But he's been unresponsive to all my calls and texts. I feel helpless."

"Maybe you should try something else?"

I look at her, puzzled. "Like what?"

"Well, sweetheart, sometimes in matters of the heart, it's not always bad to chase," Mum says. Her words sink in, and I realize that perhaps I haven't exhausted all possibilities.

"Mum, I gotta go," I say, my voice filled with urgency. Mum nods understandingly as I quickly make my way to the dining room, grabbing my bag on the go. I raise my hand, signalling one of the yellow taxis, and he pulls over by the curb.

"Where to?" the taxi driver asks, his voice muffled by the glass partition. I reach for my phone and open the notes app, finding the address I had saved earlier. I show him the address on my cell, and he nods in acknowledgement.