Work Text:
Tuesday December 5th, 1933
2:35 PM
“...and with Utah’s ratification, it’s official. Prohibition is officially over! It’s been a lo-”
Ivy recoiled as Calvin smacked the radio in an uncharacteristic bout of anger, before standing up. “Sorry. I… I’ll be upstairs.”
It took Ivy a moment to collect herself, but hearing her sweet little Vincent’s voice brought her back to her now potentially fragile reality.
“Mom? Why dad… Why did dad hit the radio? What does rat-i-cation mean?”
She looked down at the big amber eyes staring up at her, a small smile growing back on her face. “Oh, nothing. Here, finish up your lunch pancakes daddy made for you, and mommy will be right back. Okay?”
“Otay!” Vincent replied, seemingly forgetting what just happened after the reminder of his pancakes.
Ivy placed a kiss on her son’s forehead, before making her way up the stairs to the bedroom. As she opened the door, she noticed Calvin quickly putting his journal away.
She sighed as leaned against the door frame. “I thought you said you’d stop writing in that.” While it didn’t bother her he wrote in it every now and then, she made him promise to only do it for happy things. Beforehand, her husband would write his worries in there, rather than discussing them.
“I’m sorry Ives, I just… do you mind closing the door? I don’t want Vincent hearing this.” He looked up at her briefly, followed by returning his gaze to the ground. “...And I wouldn’t mind the company.”
She did as he asked and crawled beside him in bed, on top of the quilt they’d spent so many nights under. She knew that now would be a time to listen, so, resting her head on his chest, Ivy laid quiet.
Once a few moments had passed, Calvin sighed and began his spiel. “I don’t know what to think about it all. I mean- Even if I don’t drink I don’t want it to be illegal, because that’s what led to… everything, but then… what was the point? All the lies, all the thievery, all the murder…” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
Feeling Ivy grab his paw and start massaging it gave him what he needed to continue. “I’m not looking for an excuse. What we did was wrong, and I pay for it every day. Every day I wake up thinking about those lifeless bodies we left to rot. The families we ruined. The- I don’t even know why I’m saying ‘we’ either, it wasn’t you! You were just there!”
She sighed before interrupting. “Cal, we both know I’m not completely innocent. And I did… that one time…” Ivy didn’t want to continue. Ivy felt the same as him, she was just better at hiding it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to remind you of that.” Calvin rubbed her head. “I just mean… Every night I think about if something went wrong. If we weren’t lucky… If it all was pointless before, what the hell is it now?”
“We were kids, Calvin. You can’t blame yourself for what you did in that situation.” Ivy jutted in. She wanted him to know she heard him, but also didn’t want him to dig himself into a hole again. “I don’t know if I have an answer to whatever it is that you’re asking - if anything - but what I do know is that we can’t change the past. Even if we really want to.”
He looked down at her with an unreadable expression. “Ivy, I’d do it all over again for you and this family. I’d move mountains, God willing.” He wrapped both arms around her, holding her chest. “You know I love you, right?”
She let out a light giggle. “Of course, Cal. And I love you. More than anything. Well… almost.” Ivy pointed at the little amber eye peeking through the now-cracked door. “C’mere Vincent.”
Immediately, the eye went wide and the door shut, causing both adults to laugh.
Calvin shook his head with a smile. “We should probably go reassure him he’s not in trouble.”
“Alright, but first, if you ever wanna talk about… all that again, just let me know. We can’t change the past. All we can do is pray for the future.” She gave him a kiss, before getting off of her husband and offering him her paw.
He just looked at her for a few moments in disbelief, but eventually took her paw and walked with her. “You’re starting to sound like my mom.” Calvin kissed her on the cheek.
“Maybe it’s the Irish rubbing off on me. Now, let’s go find that little rascal.”