A Broken Kind of Beautiful (32 page)

Marilyn stood up and wrapped him in a hug. “Doc’s with her right now in one of his examination rooms. She’s going to be fine, Davis. I didn’t mean to worry you. I was having lunch with your grandfather when we got the call from Jordan. I didn’t know how bad it was.” She glared at Grandfather. “Dad, will you stop pacing like a maniac?”

“A phone call from Jordan?” Davis said.

The man in question moved in the periphery of Davis’s vision, disheveled hair sticking straight up as if he’d run his hands through it one too many times.

“Why were you and Sara together?” Davis didn’t mean for it to come out so rude.

Grandfather stopped and gave Jordan a beady stare. “Same question I asked.”

“I wanted to talk to her.” He twisted his hat. “Clear some things up.”

“Good for you, Jordan,” Ivy said.

Davis rounded on her.

She lifted her chin, like she didn’t care that she’d touched off a fire.

“I told you to stay out of it. You don’t even know what happened.”

Her eyes flashed. “Neither do you.”

Grandfather rocked forward on the balls of his shoes and turned his
disapproving stare on Ivy. “You, young lady, have no right meddling in affairs you know nothing about. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“She’s here because I asked her to come,” Davis said. And whether Grandfather wanted to believe it or not, Ivy cared about Sara. Davis turned to Jordan. “How did she get hurt?”

“I don’t know. I surprised her. I mean, she didn’t expect me to come to the boutique. We went for a walk. Just the two of us.” Jordan started to turn red. “I mean, without Sunny.” He looked at Ivy. She nodded for him to continue. “And she tripped on some stairs and fell.”

Jordan’s words painted a scene that was much too familiar. A painful, shameful memory Davis wished didn’t exist. He sat down next to Marilyn, hating himself all over again.

Doc Armstrong came out of an adjoining room and into the living area, a stethoscope hanging around his golf shirt. “Sara’s going to be fine, everybody. I gave her a brace for her sprained wrist, a couple stitches on her elbow. There are no signs of a concussion, but you’ll want to keep an eye on her tonight in case she shows any symptoms. Marshall, you can stop worrying my carpet bald.”

“Yes, please,” Marilyn said.

“I gave her some Tylenol for the pain and asked her to rest for a bit. She can go home as soon as you want to take her. In the meantime, she’s asked to speak with Jordan.”

Jordan stuck his hat in the back pocket of his jeans and, without waiting for extra permission, walked into Sara’s room. Davis narrowed his eyes after him, then turned to Ivy. “Why is he getting involved with Sara? Did you say something to him?”

“I only told him the truth.”

“Which is what?”

“Your sister’s in love with him.”

“Ivy, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Jordan broke up with
her. When he found out her condition was permanent, he left her and broke her heart, and now you’re opening old wounds.”

Ivy blew out her breath. “I swear, sometimes you’re more blind than your sister.”

He caught a glimpse of Marilyn’s private grin. “What are you talking about?”

“Didn’t you see his face? Jordan’s in love with your sister.”

“Some love. He left her the minute things got tough.”

“No, he didn’t. She left him.”

He smiled an incredulous smile, because Ivy didn’t know what she was talking about. Sara didn’t leave Jordan. She was too in love with him to leave him. “Why would she do that? She was devastated after they broke up.”

“Same reason lots of people do stuff.” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows right back, waiting for Ivy to enlighten him. She sighed. “Fear.”

His eyebrows lifted higher.

“She felt like she wasn’t good enough for him. She was afraid of tying him down to somebody with a disability.”

“A disability she shouldn’t even have,” Grandfather boomed.

Marilyn shifted to the front of her seat. “Dad, that’s enough.”

“I won’t hold back the truth. Tough love, Marilyn. You and I both know that Davis has no business picking up his camera again.”

“Your grandson is a phenomenal photographer,” Ivy said.

“Irresponsible is what he is. And look what his tomfoolery led to!” Grandfather huffed and shooed his hand. “If you would have come back to work for me after college like I suggested, none of this would have happened.”

Hatred rose like bile in Davis’s throat. He hated Grandfather’s words, hated even more that they were true. “And become like James? You know, Grandfather, he was the only person you ever approved of, and look what a
great guy he turned out to be.” Davis regretted the rash words as soon as they left.

Ivy stiffened.

Marilyn deflated like a loose balloon whirling out of air.

Grandfather straightened to his full height. “James made a mistake. One mistake.” Grandfather pointed his stare at Ivy. “One he admitted to and turned from. Why are you so determined to crucify the man for it?”

Davis imagined the words plunging into Ivy’s heart and twisting. Couldn’t Grandfather see how much damage those words caused? He put his hand on the small of Ivy’s back, willing her to look at him.
Don’t listen to him, Ivy. You weren’t a mistake. Not to God
. But she didn’t look. She was too busy blinking at the carpet.

Doc held up his hands as if to calm an increasingly agitated Grandfather. “Nobody’s crucifying anybody. Take a deep breath before I have to get out the nitroglycerin.”

“You’re wrong. James made more than one mistake.” Davis looked at Marilyn, sitting like a rag doll in the chair. He didn’t want to hurt her by attacking the man she’d stuck beside, but he could apologize later. Right now, he needed Ivy to hear something. “The biggest of which was ignoring his own daughter. So no offense, Grandfather, but your approval means very little.”

Davis stomped out the door. Ivy stared after him. She had no idea what Marshall had been talking about. She couldn’t fathom how Davis’s photography had anything to do with Sara’s blindness, but she was determined to find out. She followed Davis’s exit and found him sitting on the porch stoop, his cotton shirt outlining well-toned back muscles.

A strange feeling tingled behind her confusion—something she’d never felt. It bubbled the first time Davis stepped in front of her, then spilled over when he’d placed his hand on her back. Nobody had ever stuck up for her
like that before. Never. It made the joints in her knees feel all tingly and weak.

Settle down, Ivy. He was just angry at the old man
.

“So that was kind of intense.”

No answer. He didn’t even turn and look at her.

The porch floor creaked as she crept closer and sat by his side. “Don’t get me wrong, Dave, your brooding is sexy and all, but Sara’s alive. She had a small fall. No permanent damage.”

He set his elbows on his knees and dug his hands into his hair.

Not the reaction she’d expected. So now what? She wasn’t exactly the maternal, comforting type. Her comfort came in a different form. “Are you going to tell me what your grandfather meant by blaming Sara’s blindness on your … what did he call it … tomfoolery?”

Davis turned his agonized face toward her, cupping his cheek with his palm. “He meant exactly what he said. Sara can’t see because of me.”

“How is that possible?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, you’re in luck.” Ivy tapped the top of her wrist, where a watch would be if she were wearing one. “My next counseling session isn’t scheduled for another thirty minutes.”

A ghost of smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“C’mon, Davis, don’t you know it’s beneficial to get things out?”

He took a long, slow breath, his brow furrowing deeper with every second that ticked past. He swallowed. Then spoke. “When my photos landed on the cover of
Vogue
, I was convinced I’d be the next Richard Warren.”

“Lofty.”

“Yeah, I know.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I invited Sara to come celebrate with me. Flew her out and everything. Clubbing it up in New York? It wasn’t her. She’d lived all of two places, both of them small towns—Telluride, Colorado, and Greenbrier, South Carolina.

“As soon as she arrived, I could tell she didn’t want to be there. She wasn’t comfortable with my world, which made me defensive. That first night, we were supposed to go to a party at one of the clubs. Some big shot from
Elle
was going to be there, and he’d promised me ten minutes of his time. But Sara didn’t want to go. I told her I didn’t fly her out to New York to sit on my couch. She told me she didn’t recognize me anymore. I told her she needed to loosen up. The argument made us late, the icy roads even later. I was in a huge hurry because I didn’t want to miss out on meeting with the guy from
Elle
, and Sara was moving so slow it almost felt deliberate.

“We had to walk down some stairs to get to the club. I grabbed her arm and started pulling her along. A few steps in, she slipped on some ice, fell the rest of the way down, and hit her head on the cement.”

Ivy covered her mouth with her hand.

Moisture gathered in Davis’s eyes. “She was in a coma for two days, and when she woke up, she could see nothing but blackness.”

“Davis …”

“It was my fault. I made her come with me. If I wouldn’t have been so focused on schmoozing with that hotshot, if I wasn’t so determined to show Sara what a big deal I’d become, then she never would have fallen.” He turned away and scuffed his shoe against a piece of gravel. “I didn’t just lose myself in New York City, Ivy. I became a different person. I got so obsessed with chasing glory and success that I didn’t even know who I was anymore or what I stood for. I lost my temper with Sara, and because of that, I have to live with the fact that she can’t see. She can’t do what she loves. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.”

No wonder he left New York. No wonder he quit photography.

“This show. Raising money for that art program. I’m only doing it for Sara. I promised myself I’d never pick up a camera again, not when she can’t paint. I hate going back on my word, but maybe this is my chance to give her back something she loves.”

“Well then, that settles it.” Ivy curled her fingers around her knees,
Bruce’s phone call lurking in the back of her mind. She hated herself for such opportunistic thinking, but what other choice did she have? Ivy was a model. Take that away and she was nothing. Here was a solution that wouldn’t just benefit her, but Sara too. Getting that art program to Greenbrier meant her friend could paint again. And once Sara could paint again, maybe, just maybe, Davis would come back to New York. “We’re going to make this fashion show the biggest event this town has ever seen.”

28

The radio crackled as Davis clanked down the ladder and mopped his brow. Three weeks spent outside during the tail end of South Carolina’s hottest month—first splitting and replanting hostas in Cornerstone’s front lawn, then replacing the church’s roof alongside several volunteers—and he could feel the sun soaking into his skin, turning it a few shades darker than his usual tan.

Davis stepped beneath the shade of a walnut tree and pulled a cold bottle of lemonade from his minicooler, twisted off the cap, and took a long swig. The radio crackled again. He nudged it with his booted toe, sat down in the grass, and fiddled with the antennas. A deep southern drawl broke through the static—Greenbrier’s Big Bubba in the Morning.

“We’re kicking off Labor Day weekend with a little Diamond Rio and fireworks at nine o’clock. We’ve got a great lineup for this year’s festival. Hope to see y’all there, folks. And in case you’ve been living under a rock for the past two weeks, don’t forget to find the booth selling tickets to Greenbrier’s first fashion show, showcasing our very own Marilyn Olsen, her wedding dresses, and the ever-lovely Ivy Clark. You mighta seen her around in, say … I don’t know … 
Vogue
magazine. It’s gonna be great, y’all. End of this month. September twenty-fifth. Mark your calendars. Oh, and did I mention I’m emceeing the event? I think I might have a couple times.”