Chapter Text
23 - My Dead Garden
November 1996
Ivy sat in the kitchen fully dressed and ready for school. Mom and Dad were making breakfast, which included lots of toast and eggs. Dad made Mom's tea exactly how she liked it, and kissed her after he handed her the mug.
"Ives, you almost ready?" Peter asked as he walked in, cane in one hand and a loose stack of papers in the other.
"I'm always ready before you in the morning," Ivy said. "I'm a lot more organized than you."
"Yeah, you get that from your dad," Peter said, flashing a teasing smile at Dad, who rolled his eyes. Ivy frowned a little. She didn't like when Peter and Mom compared her to Dad.
Ivy ate breakfast quickly as Mom helped Peter organize his things. James and Mickey came in for breakfast, eating and talking about monster trucks. Ivy remembered when it used to be her hip that Mickey was attached to, when they would talk about dolls and dinosaurs and everything in between. They didn't do that anymore. Ivy was too old. A sixteen year old didn't have as much in common with an eleven year old as a six year old did, apparently.
"Alright, we need to go," Peter said, finally putting his bag over his shoulder. He hugged Mom goodbye, and patted Dad on the back. Mickey got up and hugged him tight. "See you later, Mickey. Love you a bunch. Have a fun day at school."
"Love you a bunch too, Daddy!" Mickey said, squeezing him tightly before he pulled away.
Peter patted the top of James' head and said, "Bye, Jamie." James stuck his tongue out at him. "Let's go, Ives."
Ivy got her bag and quickly hugged Mom, then left with Peter. They got into his car and started the drive to school. Ivy loved hanging out with Peter, and she was glad that he taught at the high school and could drive her there every morning.
"So, when'd you stop hugging your dad on the way out the door?" Peter asked.
"I don't know," Ivy said. Maybe when she realized he abandoned her as a kid and he was the reason her siblings liked each other more than her. Maybe when she realized he loved James more than her. Maybe when she realized he just came back for Mom, not for her.
"Fine, don't tell me," Peter said. "Pearl Jam again?"
"Obviously." Ivy turned on the radio, and the album picked up where they had left off yesterday, on the song Porch .
~
The flowers in the garden are dead
Wilted, limp, losing color
She was born a month ago
And I only just met her
~
Ivy thought this party was completely stupid.
Eddie had put it together, a party to celebrate her Dad's poem collection selling millions of copies. The book had been out for seven years, Ivy didn't think it was particularly impressive. She hadn't even read it, even though the book was called Poems For Ivy . So, she sat off to the side, her Walkman headphones blasting Alice in Chains, and she just watched.
Grandpa Red and Grandma Kitty were sitting with Grandpa Jack, W.B. and Edna. The five of them were talking amicably, even though just six years ago Grandma Kitty could barely be in the same room as Edna and Jack without going to her 'unhappy place' as Dad and Uncle Eric called it.
Uncle Eric was with Aunt Donna at a table nearby, looking at each other lovingly as Ruth, Luke, and James colored in the coloring books Aunt Donna had brought. Michael and Brooke were standing with Tommy, the three of them signing to each other. Of course, with Ivy's luck, Betsy had the flu and couldn't make it.
Peter had his pant leg rolled up and was showing off his scars to Mickey and Keegan. His cane sat propped against the side of the chair. Mickey was pointing things out to Keegan on Peter's leg.
Mom and Dad were standing on the other side of the room, doing that lovey-dovey close-talking thing they did sometimes. Ivy was happy her parents loved each other, but it was still gross.
And Ivy sat alone with her Walkman.
Eddie appeared in front of her, smiling and gesturing for her to take her headphones off. She did, pausing her music. "Hi, Eddie."
"Hey, Ivy. Why are you sitting alone like some freako?" He sat down in the chair beside her.
"Well, I'm not sitting alone anymore, am I?"
He laughed. "True, I fucked up your whole brooding teenager act."
She crossed her arms. "It's not an act."
"You're just like your dad."
She glared at Eddie. "I wish people would stop saying that. I'm not like him. He didn't even want me. I don't want to be like him."
Eddie's grin faded. He nodded slowly. "When I was sixteen, I said the same things about my dad. 'Course, my dad was a huge asshole. That feeling never really went away until he died."
Ivy felt a sudden pang at the idea of Dad dying. She didn't want him to die.
"You ever actually read your dad's book?" Eddie asked.
"No. I don't want to read all his pathetic excuses for being too much of a coward to raise me."
Eddie laughed again. "We'll put that quote on the next round of printing." He reached into his bag and pulled out a brand-new copy of the book. "Might help to read it, y'know. It's not all pathetic excuses. And it's not all about you. If it weren't for these poems, I wouldn't be a married man."
"You're not a married man, because your marriage is illegal."
Eddie flipped her off. "Homophobe."
She returned the rude gesture. "Pervert."
He started to walk backwards towards Keegan's table, keeping an eye on her. "Bitch."
"Asshole." She put her headphones on and started her music again. Eddie sat down next to Keegan and joined the conversation about Peter's scars.
Ivy looked down at the book in her hands. It had a blue cover, with a string of ivy wrapping around it. Gold print read Poems For Ivy by Steven Hyde. The dedication on the inside said: For my daughter, who I will never be good enough for. I'll keep trying, Vie.
She thought about Eddie's dead father. Maybe she could give her living father a shot.
~
The flowers perk up a bit
I stand in the doorway
Too afraid to get closer
They die faster the longer I'm away
~
Ivy sat in her room, phone to her ear. She twisted the cord around her finger. " Just read it. It can only help you, " Betsy said from one line, still sounding nasally from the flu.
" I'd give anything to be able to read something my dad wrote, " Nico said from another line. " I know it's not the same, but still… "
" Yeah, don't wait until he's dead to start liking him ," Betsy said, followed by three sneezes.
"Fine, I'll read it," Ivy said. "But if it ends up being a big waste of time, I'm blaming you two."
" I would expect nothing less ," Nico said. " You can tell us about it over ice cream as soon as Betsy is healthy again. "
"Deal. Feel better, Bets."
" Thanks, " Betsy replied, sniffling. " Now go read that book! "
"I will, I will. See you soon." The three of them hung up, and Ivy flopped back on her bed. She looked over at the side of the room where Mickey's things had been for so many years. Mickey had moved into a room in the basement when Ivy had turned thirteen. James was next door, but it wasn't the same.
She turned away from Mickey's old space. Above her bed was a picture of her and Dad, in the garden he'd planted at Eddie and Keegan's house. Those flowers were long dead, since those two couldn't keep up with the garden for the life of them. Ivy missed the flowers Dad used to bring home for Mom. She missed when she thought her Dad was the coolest person she knew; when he was her hero. Now she just thought of him as a deadbeat.
For the first time since she'd started thinking it, she wondered if he really deserved that title.
Ivy got more comfortable on her bed. Mr. Shuffle made a few valiant attempts at jumping onto the bed with her before Ivy finally took pity on him and picked him up. He cuddled into her side and she opened the book.
It was a pretty quick read, being a collection of short poems. It was like peering into her Dad's mind for a moment. Her favorite was Father , because it made everything so much clearer to her. Dad's dad hadn't been there for him for most of his life. How could he know how to be a good father when he had no father of his own?
The final poem was My Dead Garden . Underneath the printed poem was that picture of them in the garden, the same one hanging on the wall behind her. The garden where her first real memories with her father were created. That poem made her think more than any of the others did.
She imagined what it would be like to be so close to her only child, yet so far. To be pushed away because she wasn't trusted. Because she didn't trust herself. To try despite it all. To look on from the doorway, and nothing more, but keep trying .
A tear slipped down her cheek, and next thing she knew she was sobbing.
Someone knocked on her closed door. "Vie, dinner's almost ready," Dad called through the door. She couldn't stop crying. "Ivy? You okay?" She couldn't respond. "I'm coming in."
The door opened, and his face fell at the sight of her crying. He joined her on the bed and gently took the book from her hands. Then he wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder, like she had so many times before.
When she eventually calmed down, he asked, "What's wrong?"
"I got so angry at you this year. I didn't understand. And I missed when things were easy, like when we played in your garden and painted my bedroom and stupid stuff like that. Now I'm older and I understand better that you were gone for six years of my life. But I couldn't figure out why . You never explained it to me."
Dad hugged her a little bit tighter, then pulled away. "I was barely twenty when you were conceived, and your mom didn't tell me about it. I only found out because I happened to walk into a room and see her holding you. And right after I found out I had a daughter, I was told I wasn't wanted in her life. I knew I couldn't do it, and your mom knew it too. I'll always feel guilty for missing so much, but I can't change it. I needed the time to work on myself."
"Why? What was so wrong with you that you couldn't even live in the same town as us?"
Dad was silent for a moment. "I dated your mom for two years before you were born. She gave me an ultimatum after those two years, and said if I didn't propose to her she would move to Chicago. I panicked and ran away to Las Vegas. I was nineteen and didn't want to think about marriage or the future, and I was addicted to alcohol and weed. In Vegas, I drunkenly married a woman named Sam and ruined any chances I had with your mother."
Ivy furrowed her brow. "When was I conceived, then?"
"Valentine's Day, 1980. Two months after I divorced Sam. I thought I finally had a chance to win your mom back, but she didn't want the person I had become. When I found out she was planning to raise a child without me, I knew I had to change. I should have realized it a hell of a lot sooner."
"Yeah, you should've."
He chuckled. "The first time I saw you, I had two requests. The first was to hold you at least once, because back then I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to. The second was to be the person to introduce you to my favorite band, Led Zeppelin. Get your Walkman, I'll be right back."
He got up and left the room. Ivy wasn't sure what a new band had to do with their father-daughter relationship, but she was willing to go with it.
He came back with a tape. "This is Led Zeppelin I. Their first album, and one of my favorites. They got me through a lot of hard times when I was your age." He put the tape into her Walkman and started it.
It started with guitar and drums. Eventually the singer's voice came in: " In the days of my youth, I was told what it means to be a man… Now I've reached that age, I've tried to do all those things the best I can…"
Even though she had headphones on and Dad couldn't hear the music, he mouthed the words in sync with the song. She got it. He was sharing a piece of him, through his favorite music. The equivalent to him always listening to the bands she liked, even if he wasn't a fan. Luckily, she was a fan of this so far. She wouldn't force him to listen to Radiohead anymore.
She wrapped her arms around him again. "Thanks, Dad."
"I love you, Ivy. I'd do anything for you."
"I want a new garden."
He smiled. "Deal."
~
The garden is full of seeds that haven't sprouted
Blooms I'll never see
Has she taken her first steps?
Does she think about me?
~
Mom and Dad said if she wanted a new garden she would have to help set it up and take care of it. Ivy agreed, since most of the reason she wanted a garden was to have something to do with Dad. They'd gone to the hardware store and bought some wood to make boxes, plus the seeds for the flowers they wanted. Today, they were building it.
Peter was inside with Mickey and James, but he had hooked up a speaker near the window so they could listen to music while they set up the garden. Ivy had requested more Led Zeppelin, so Dad had put on Led Zeppelin II.
"How'd you and Mom meet?" Ivy asked.
"Kelso introduced her to me as his girlfriend, and she annoyed the hell out of me," Dad said, marking the wood where he would cut it to square off the corner.
Mom smiled and nodded. "It's true. But eventually my good looks and general greatness made him fall in love with me." She flipped her hair over her shoulder as Dad laughed.
"How did you get together, then?" Ivy asked.
"We went out on Veteran's Day and kissed for the first time, but I wasn't ready to be in a relationship with him just yet," Mom said. "That summer Michael ran away and your Dad and I got together officially."
"Then you were together for two years. Then he married Sam. Then I was born. And you got back together when I was, like, six, right?"
Mom gave Dad a look. "You told her about Sam?"
"Vaguely. The moment called for it. You know you're the only woman I've ever really wanted to marry," Dad said. He looked back at Ivy. "You were five, about to turn six."
Ivy nodded. The next minute was spent in relative silence, filled only by Dad hammering boards together and the song playing through the window. Then the song changed.
Mom perked up. "Steven, it's our song!"
Dad smiled softly at her. "What happened to the Clapton song? Make a decision."
"That's still our song, but this one is too," Mom said.
"Which one is this?" Ivy asked, only somewhat recognizing the song.
" Thank You . It's the song we had our first dance to at our wedding. And we've listened to it hundreds of times since we started dating," Dad said. "This was one of the Zeppelin songs that inspired me to start writing poetry, actually. I thought it would be cool if I could write my thoughts out this nicely."
Ivy listened to the lyrics for a moment. " If the sun refused to shine… I would still be loving you… When mountains crumble to the sea… there will still be you and me… "
"I think I want to start writing poetry," Ivy said. "I think it might help me sort out my thoughts."
Dad smiled. "I think it would definitely help. Gardening helps too, once we get this together and start planting things. It's nice to get your mind off things once in a while."
"Aw, my two poets! I bet you'll be a natural, Ivy," Mom said.
For once, Ivy didn't mind the comparison between her and Dad. In fact, she might even be proud of it.
~
The flowers won't bloom,
But ivy has grown throughout the garden
It creeps and twists around me
Because I see her more often
~
May 1997
Hyde was outside, watering the flowers he and Ivy had planted. They were blooming, in bright bursts of color. The two of them were keeping good care of the garden, watering it when needed and weeding whenever anything they hadn't planted started to sprout.
Ivy came outside, holding a little notebook. "I wrote a poem. Could you read it?"
Hyde turned the hose off and put it down. "Of course."
She handed him the notebook, and they sat down in the chairs Jackie had put out by the garden a couple weeks ago. He opened it and started reading.
A Poem For Dad , by Ivy Burkhart-Hyde.
It was the first time Hyde had seen her add his surname. She usually went as Ivy Burkhart, since that was her legal name. And they joked that they had three kids and three surnames: Ivy Burkhart, McKenna Lawrence, and James Hyde.
I often think of the garden
Where we would pick bouquets
We'd play games and pick flowers
They were some of my favorite days
I think of the garden
When I can't think of a happy memory
I try not to focus on the sadness
On all the years that went by
In that garden, you were everything
I thought so highly of you
And you only got lower
You didn't deserve that view
Now we've planted a new garden
And I have a new picture on my wall
You are my one and only dad
That hasn't changed at all
Hyde smiled at her. "It's beautiful, Vie. Thank you." She just nodded. Hyde got that sixteen was an awkward age for moments like these. "Should we pick some flowers for your mom? For old time's sake?"
"Yeah."
They carefully selected an assortment of flowers from the garden, and tied it with a long blade of grass. Hyde gave into impulse and hugged Ivy. "I love you, Vie. I'm glad we have the garden together."
"Me too." She was silent for a couple seconds, but didn't pull away from the hug. "I love you too, Dad."
They parted, smiling at each other. They turned to go inside, where Jackie and Peter were making dinner and James and Mickey were coloring. Hyde handed the bouquet to Jackie. "For my lovely wife."
Jackie beamed and took the flowers from him. "They're beautiful! Thanks, Puddin." She kissed him quickly, then got a vase for the flowers.
Ivy sat with James and Mickey, who offered her crayons. "Can you still draw Littlefoot from memory?" Mickey asked excitedly.
"I think so," Ivy said, and she started drawing as her siblings looked on.
After dinner, the six of them were in a pile on the couch. Hyde had one arm around Jackie and the other around Ivy, with James on Jackie's lap. Peter and Mickey sat on Jackie's other side. They were watching The Land Before Time for the millionth time, but Hyde didn't mind one bit. He had his family, and that was all he needed.
The vase of flowers on the windowsill looked bright even at night.
~
The garden is full of ivy and flowers
Dead and blooming, all overgrown
My family may not see it
But I no longer take care of it on my own