“I will. Merry Christmas,” he said, hugging her once more, and she gave him one last squeeze before she grabbed her purse and headed back downstairs.
Thankfully, Michael’s mother was nowhere to be seen when she came back through the living room; Lauren didn’t know if she’d be able to curb her tongue if they had another encounter, and the last thing she wanted to do was have it out with that woman.
She drove home in silence, one hand on the wheel and the other playin { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: owleasig with the delicate silver vines at her throat.
As soon as she got back home, she bypassed the crowd of her family in the living room and ran upstairs, powering up her computer. And then she opened her search engine and typed in “ivy symbolism” before hitting enter.
Several sites came up as a result, and Lauren clicked on the first one and began reading.
Ever furrowing and intertwining, the ivy is an example of the twists and turns our lives often take, but because ivy has the propensity to interweave in its growth, it is also a testimony to the long-lasting connections we can form with others throughout our lives.
Lauren bit her lip, closing out of the website and clicking on the next one.
Ivy is a tribute to strong relationships because of its ability to grow and flourish, even in the most challenging environments. It seems to be virtually indestructible and will often return after it has suffered damage or has been severely cut back. Because the ivy is unbelievably durable and known to withstand harsh conditions, it represents incredibly loyal relationships and our ability to stand by those we care about, even in the toughest of situations.
Lauren’s breath left her in a soft rush, and she closed out of the website and clicked on one more. This one stated simply:
Ivy is symbolic of strong, lasting relationships that are guaranteed to stand the test of time.
With a smile on her lips, she dropped her head back on the chair and closed her eyes, trailing her fingertips over the necklace once more.
“I love you, Michael Delaney,” she breathed, and it felt so good to finally say it out loud, even if no one but her could hear it.
.
January 2012
Lauren sat at the stoplight, mentally running through the list of errands she still hoped to get done. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a day off during the week, and when she first woke up that morning, she didn’t know what to do with herself. Her new semester of classes didn’t start for another couple of days, so she literally had an entire day laid out before her like a blank canvas.
That lasted all of about five minutes.
After cleaning her apartment, she finally collected the small laundry bag of dry-clean-only clothes that had been sitting in the bottom of her closet and dropped them off to be cleaned. She stopped by the post office and picked up a book of stamps. She went to the bank and transferred some money from her savings account to her checking account in preparation for those post-holiday credit card bills. And now, she was on her way to the grocery store.
As she waited for the light to turn green, the sound of grinding metal caught her attention, and she glanced to the right, noticing the crew of construction workers gathered around a large sheet of metal, some holding it in place while others methodically walked around with some type of hand-held tools that either cut it or drilled holes in it. One of the men stopped and removed the goggles from his eyes, checking over his work, and she smiled softly when she recognized him.
Lauren had completely forgotten he was working on the new medical offices going up on West Linn Street.
Just as the light turned green, she sa@ classle decisionw him cup his hands in front of his mouth and blow into them before rubbing them together. She frowned slightly as she began to pull forward, watching as his breath repeatedly left his mouth in a wispy cloud. In fact, the whole group of them looked like they were steaming, their exhales alternately providing puffs of white smoke that wafted around them.
He bounced on his toes, rubbing his hands together one more time before he pulled his goggles back down and got back to work.
Lauren glanced down at her dashboard. Eighteen degrees outside today.
She scrunched up her nose as she glanced in her rearview, catching one last glimpse of the men as they continued working over the piece of metal before they disappeared from view.
Before she had even consciously decided to do it, she made a quick left turn, putting on her blinker at the end of the street and turning into the Dunkin Donuts drive-through. Five minutes later, she was heading back toward West Linn Street with a Box O’Joe and fifty count of Munchkins in her passenger seat.
Lauren found a parking space at the end of the street and exited the car, ducking her head against a particularly sharp gust of wind; she couldn’t imagine having to work outside on a day like this. She walked a little faster, the box of coffee in one hand and the donuts in the other, looking out from under her lashes as she tucked her chin into her scarf.
As she approached the small group of men, Michael removed his goggles again, bending slightly to examine something on the sheet metal. After a moment he straightened. He was about to bring his goggles back down when he spotted her.
He looked surprised, but he smiled, pulling his goggles completely off as he placed what looked like a drill on the pavement.
“Hey,” Lauren said, bouncing on her toes to keep warm as he approached her.
“Hey,” he said, jamming his hands in his pockets. “It’s freezing out here. Why are you walking? Where’s your car?”
“Down the block,” she said, motioning with her head. “I just came down here to give you guys this,” she added holding out the coffee and donuts.
He looked down at what she offered. “You got us all coffee?” he asked. When he looked back up, there was something behind his eyes that made her chest feel heavy with an emotion she couldn’t quite place.
Lauren nodded. “It’s cold,” she said softly. “I just figured…” She shrugged.
Michael looked at her for a second before a smile began playing at his lips. “You would’ve had to fend off most of these guys with a cattle prod anyway. But now? All bets are off.”
Lauren laughed nervously. “Well then, maybe you should give it to them.”
He laughed loudly before he quirked his brow at her. “Come on now Red, I’ve never known you to be shy.”
He turned then, calling to the guys, and Lauren froze.
It was the first time he’d used his old nickname for her.
The heaviness instantly settled back in her chest, and this time, she had no trouble identifying it.
Longing.
She should have been panicked over that revelation; she realized that. She should have been trying to find a way to remove herself from the situation so she could get composed, so she could chase that godforsaken feeling out of her body. It was a fail-safe method that had proven successful whenever she felt herself slipping with him over the past it"> shoulder few weeks.
But for some reason, the only thing she could bring herself to do in that moment was smile.
She didn’t even realize how much she had missed his pet name for her until she’d heard it again.
Michael had the men’s attention now, and he turned back, gesturing to her. “This is my friend Lauren. She brought us coffee.”
Immediately, she was inundated with calls of thanks, compliments, and a few whistles. She looked down and laughed, handing the boxes to the two men who walked over. “There are cups in that bag, and cream and sugar,” she said.
“Well, aren’t you a doll,” an older gentleman with graying hair said. “Thank you, sweetheart.”