Chapter three: Mayfair

 The sun shone brightly. The sky was a clear bright blue, and a slight breeze that danced over the ocean delicately dancing through Ivy's hair. Yesterday's uncertainty was replaced with fear and anxiety. She had to go across the ocean to see the island where her family originated from. Ivy was happy about the opportunity to learn about her family’s history, more in depth. However, she was terrified of the trip she was about to embark on to see her aunts and other relatives.

Climbing onto the boat felt like she was stepping into certain death. Her dad gently took her hand, guiding her to the indoor seats to help her forget the water that was all around them.

Ivy sat next to her dad on the boat. It wasn't the newest-looking thing, but it seemed sturdy. Its red bench seats were soft and provided minimal comfort, not like that would change how Ivy felt at that moment. Ivy was feeling anxious and wished there was a flight to the island instead. That surely should be a thing now, she thought to herself. Why do they still only have boats taking people across to the island?

Large bodies of water have unnerved her ever since she was eleven. She fell in during her fishing trip with her dad.

When her body hit the water that day, it was like a rush of emotions from another life flooding her body. Her lungs burned as if she couldn't get any air into her body, but her life jacket allowed her to breathe. Ivy felt as if lead had replaced all her limbs. She had only just fallen in, yet she felt like she had been in the water for hours, struggling. That memory and pain were fresh in her mind every time she neared a lake, a stream, or especially the ocean.

Ivy wasn't sure what happened that day but couldn't shake it. No matter how many times she tried exposure therapy or simple avoidance or talking it out, it still happened. After the age of twelve, her parents also decided to try getting answers with extensive allergy testing. However, as it wasn't all forms of water and not strictly one form of water type like the ocean. They couldn't figure it out. The doctor then insisted it was psychosomatic. Ivy was diagnosed with thalassophobia. The phobia of large bodies of water.

Ivy kept trying to keep her mind off where they were. Ivy and her dad began to discuss plans and where they would stay while they were at Mayfair. Her father planned for them to stay with her aunt Freda for some time and Lucile was able to take them in as well. She smiled, thinking how lovely it would be to see them more. It had never been a regular thing for Ivy to see her mother's side of the family, which she always thought was peculiar. It was a standard on that side of the family. Unlike her dad's family. Uncle Josh was like a second dad. She spent various holidays at his place enjoying his large backyard and the quiet street he lives on.

Her dad's parents are always at her parents' house every Yuletide without fail. But Ivy couldn't recall any holidays going to her mum's side of the family. Certainly, there were not many holidays having her mum's family come off the island either, and when any family did visit it was usually Freda and Lucile.

Ivy sits, shifting uncomfortably on the bench seat, trying to figure out why her mum's side of the family was so mysterious. She knew the professions of her mum's family and when the first of the Mayfair's, her father's family, landed on the island. However, she never met a cousin or her mum's parents. She knew her mum and family came to Mayfair Island after her father in about the 1700s. She recalled her mum saying, but where were they before? A question her dad put in her head now echoed plaguing her.

"Dad... why haven't I met more of Mum's family?" Her father looks at her with a thoughtful expression as he tries to recall any memory of a reason why.

"I'm unsure" he says, looking puzzled. "Perhaps it's linked to her previous marriage to William?"

Ivy nods in agreement, feeling that it makes sense. She knew how the two families were against the marriage to begin with. Her mother did tell her that much when Ivy asked about her biological father over the years.

The rest of the journey, Ivy looks at the sky. The once bright blue becomes duller and the gray colour bleeds into the blue until the blue is washed out. The closer to the island they get, a fog starts rolling over and round the boat. The sheet was heavy with moisture and an ominous feeling. A chill is carried over the boat and sinks into Ivy's skin. The air was fresh and crisp but cooled her to the bone. She shivers, rubbing her arms and sees the sign "Mayfair".

The boat slows to the dock. Stopping next to the gray-washed-out-looking dock aged with sun damage and seawater washing over the once vibrant dock. Stepping off the boat, a sense of familiarity washes over her. Ivy slides on her jacket, instinctively walking forward. Her footsteps echoed against the wood. The silence broke with every step and every wave. Crashing against the gray wood, washing away the silence.

Ivy can smell the salt in the air, she looks and can see a quiet town. A few people are strolling along enjoying the quiet. No one seemed rushed or stressed. A big contrast from the city life she grew up with. Shoreside is always filled with strangers busheling around. Stressed and often angry. Ivy had lost count of the times she had angered a stranger by helping her mum at the café and making mistakes when learning how to do the job correctly. She worked with her mum waiting tables alongside her on summer breaks or taking over her mother's shift when her chemotherapy was making her sick.

Ivy turns to see her dad quiet, watching her take it all in. He accesses her every move. Waiting to hear her thoughts. Ivy smiles. "It feels like home". He nodded as if he was expecting that. A warm smile spread across his face. He wanted her to feel something other than pain. Her mother's cancer had been so taxing on her, it drained her warmth and joy. He had noticed her weight loss and the paling of her once golden skin. He hoped that being there would bring her out more and help heal her heart and in turn heal her.

Ivy was hoping to get answers about what William had said about her mother, not telling her the truth. She also hoped that her dad could find solace in being around her mother's family and old family home. It wouldn't be like she was there but her memories and some of her belongings were. Stuff that wasn't attached to memories of cancer and pain. Stuff from when she was carefree and bold.

Ivy takes her dad's arm, and they walk to the first café they see. The brew is written across the glass door, and it's slightly faded with age. It's a small café, with a couple of couch seats and a few tables with a couple of chairs set up. There is an elderly couple sitting on the far left having what looks like a brunch date. They hold hands as they whisper to each other, smiling sweetly, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. The scene is very sweet to see love last the test Ivy thinks to herself.

Ivy smiles at this, but it saddens her a little knowing that her dad won't get this with her mum. Ivy looks back and sees her dad watching them. He is tearful as he smiles at them. She could feel his heart was heavy. She points to the gray couch with thick comfy cushions. It is accompanied by a solid ornate red wood coffee table, gold handles on the small drawers and a pile of old magazines sitting on one side.

Dylan sits, and Ivy goes to the counter and orders two flat whites, one lemon poppy muffin and one club sandwich with ham and cheddar cheese. She walks over and sits next to her dad. She hands him the sandwich. He smiles softly and says, "thank you." They sit in silence and look out the large window, taking in the view of the shops and people that stroll on by. The scenery of the ocean and gray sky is both haunting yet picturesque. Ivy pulls out her cell phone to flick William a text.

We are at “The brew.” Having a quick lunch. Meet you at yours can we get the address.

Ivy waits for a text. When she puts her phone down, the middle-aged blonde woman with a heart-shaped face walks over with the two coffees. "Here you go hunnies," she says, smiling brightly at them as she puts the two coffees down. She's a curvy woman and about average height. She asks if they need anything else. Ivy's dad looks up at her, shakes his head no, and thanks her for the coffee. She looks at them and nods. Ivy says thank you too.

"Dad. I texted William. I asked for his address." Her dad stops chewing. "Oh? Okay, I thought we would see your aunts first."

Ivy looked at him for a second. "You go on ahead, I'm assuming you know their address?"

He nods. "Got it last night. Never been to the island, but they said they would pick us up anyhow because of our bags and never being here."

Ivy smiles, "I have questions for William, and I don't think they can wait." Ivy is now determined to know what her mother's supposed missing information was. She wasn't going to let William lie to her either. She wanted proof of his slander.

Her dad could see Ivy was on a mission and wasn't going to get in-between her and her desire for the truth. Ivy had always been determined to dig for the truth, even in smaller matters, but this involved her beloved mother. He knew she needed this, either to heal or to process it all, so he chose to give her the space she needed while offering a shoulder when she needed one. As dealing with William was always a messy business, often leading Ivy to tears just like her mother. Dylan rightfully despised the man, but at the end of the day, whether they liked it or not, he was Ivy's biological father.

Ivy hears her phone buzz.

Hey. I don't live far from there. I will just come get you.

Ivy reads his message and replays to get her in fifteen minutes. Ivy tells her dad she will see Will. She tells Dylan she will meet him at her aunts' later. She is just spending a little bit of time with William. She doesn't want to lie, but she also doesn't want to worry her dad. She smiles, hoping he isn't going to worry about her being at Williams. He knows how she doesn't really like the man, but he knows stuff about Ivy's mother, stuff she was never told.