4
IVY
My aunt stared at me like I was a crazy person and I couldn’t blame her. I was standing by the front door, shifting from one foot to the other as I called upstairs to Lily for the third time. “Come on, hon, you’re going to be late.”
Aunt Sarah tipped her head to the side as she peered at me through her bifocals. In her late seventies, she was my second mother. Since my real one didn’t count, Grandma was first. Then, when she passed, Aunt Sarah had definitely filled that role. And boy, had I needed someone. Eighteen and pregnant? I couldn’t have done it without her. While her hair was still long—she refused to cut it and have helmet-head like an old lady—she’d decided to let the gray show. Even though she’d grown up in Bridgewater, she didn’t dress like a cowgirl. In fact, I’d neve
