Evercrossed (11 page)

Sixteen

IT WAS A SERIES OF COINCIDENCES, IVY TOLD HER self as she turned onto Cockle Shell Road. She had left Guy in his "homey" place with a new ice chest and leftovers from the early dinner they had purchased in town.

Guy had asked her to stay longer, but she needed time to think. She couldn't keep her mind from running through the odd moments that linked Guy with Tristan. If she dared to tell Will and Beth what she was starting to believe, she knew what they would say: She was imagining it—it was just the anniversary.

The anniversary! Oh, no! She had completely forgotten about going with Will to get the fire permit. When she and Guy had driven to the takeout place, she hadn't bothered to check her cell phone and had totally forgotten about dinner in Province town.

Will's car was gone from the Seabright's lot Ivy walked slowly down the path to the cottage. She was thinking about how she would explain when she heard his Toyota pull in. She stopped and waited nervously. When Will approached the house, he walked fast, his head down. "Will," she said softly.

He looked up sharply and she could read in his face all the emotions he was feeling: relief, disbelief, and anger.

"Will, I'm so sorry!" She lifted her hand to reach toward him, then quickly dropped it to her side; something—she didn't know what—stopped her from touching him. "I'm so sorry," she repeated. A long silence followed.

"That's it?" he asked.

"I've let you down." He swore under his breath.

"I'm really sorry, Will. I just... forgot."

"Do you have amnesia too?" he replied sarcastically. "Is it contagious?" His eyes bored through her. "That's where you've been, isn't it? With him, with Guy."

"Yes."

"I can't believe it! Why do girls do stuff like this —run after guys who seem mysterious and exciting, but have nothing to offer."

"I'm not running after—" He cut her off.

"I love you, Ivy, but this is killing me."

She swallowed hard. "Why are you doing this to me?" he shouted at her.

"I don't know!" she shouted back. She saw him struggle to control his anger; in some ways, she wished he'd keep shouting.

"You're acting like you did after Tristan's death, when Gregory seduced you—"

"What?!"

"And you kept standing up for him," Will continued, "when you kept trusting Gregory even though there were a million signs that you shouldn't."

"Like you weren't Gregory's friend, too?" Ivy challenged him. "I recognized him for what he was and stayed friends long enough to help you and Tristan."

Will sucked in his breath. "Tristan. It always comes back to him, doesn't it? God, what an idiot I am!" Ivy lowered her head. The night you were in the accident, when I got to the hospital, the paramedic asked me if I was Tristan."

Ivy winced. "He said you had been calling for him in the ambulance."

Ivy turned away. "Then the doctor, elated with your progress, came to me and said, 'I've got good news for you, Tristan."

Ivy shut her eyes with the pain. Will had kept this to himself, even though it must have hurt him deeply. "Here's what I think," Will said, his voice husky with emotion. "I don't think you're really falling for Guy. I think you feel bad for him and find him a nice distraction."

Ivy turned back toward Will. He went on quickly. "With Guy, you can feel for somebody, help somebody, and still be in love with Tristan."

"Will, I am so sorry—"

"This fling with Guy, it helps you to separate from me," Will continued; "The best thing I can do for you and for me is make the final break that you clearly want so much.'' His voice grew angrier. "It would have been a lot easier on both of us, Ivy, if you'd had the guts to tell me when you knew it was over!"

"But I didn't know—"

He slammed his fist into his palm. "Give me a break!"

"I knew something was wrong," Ivy explained. "I was trying to think things through."

He nodded. "And why end it when it may turn out that you need me after all?"

"No! That's unfair! I wouldn't have used you like that."

"Next time you're thinking things through, try thinking about how it is for someone other than yourself."

He turned on his heel and headed back to the parking lot. "Where are you going, Will?"

"I don't know. I don't care, as long as It's somewhere away from you."

THE TEARS THAT HAD BEEN FILLING IVY'S EYES DURING the argument did not fall until five minutes after Will had driven away. Ivy walked back to the lot and stood motionless by her car, watching the road as if Will might come back.

"It's over. Over," she repeated to herself with disbelief. She noticed an envelope on her car's front seat Opening it, she found the permit for the bonfire. She climbed inside her car, closed the door, and cried.

Ivy drove for an hour and a half—Route 6 first, needing to drive fast, and when she had stopped crying, the winding, dual lane 6A. She was tempted to call her mother—but her mother loved Will. Philip loved Will. Beth loved Will. So did she, but maybe not enough.

By the time she returned to the inn, it was nearly dark. Will's car was back; Kelsey's was gone and no one was in the cottage. Ivy sat in the living room, trying to work on the puzzle, riffling through the box, pulling out one piece, then another, then putting them back. Restless, she walked outside, glanced at the swing, then strode over to the inn's back steps, where she felt less likely to be cornered by whoever came home first. If Will hadn't told the others about their break up, she would have to share the news before work tomorrow.

Behind her, the kitchen door opened, spreading the room's yellow light on a swath of grass. "Don't get up," Aunt Cindy said, then came out and sat on the steps next to Ivy. "How are you doing?"

"Okay."

"Pretty tough, huh?"

Ivy nodded. "Yeah. Who told you?"

"Beth. Listen, Ivy, I can make sure that you and Will aren't on the same work team for a week or so, but you'll still be living and working in close quarters. I can't have you quarreling in front of guests, and I can't have the others taking sides." Ivy nodded.

"If you feel like you can't deal with the situation, you've got to let me know."

"Okay." Aunt Cindy rested her hand lightly on Ivy's back. "I know it seems as if the pain is so bad that it will never get better. But it will, Ivy. It really will," she said, then went inside.

Ivy rose and walked slowly across the garden. After all the grime and sweat of the day, she'd feel better if she took a shower before facing the others. Then she saw Beth coming around the corner of the renovated barn—from Will's room—Ivy guessed. Ivy took a deep breath and waited. "How's Will?"

"How are you?" Beth asked, as she approached Ivy. The gentleness in her friend's voice released an other than expected flood of tears.

"Come on. Let's talk," Beth said, giving Ivy a light push toward the swing.

Beth remained quiet while Ivy cried. "I feel so bad about hurting him," Ivy said, wiping her eyes.

"I feel bad for both of you," Beth replied, then added softly, "It's hard for Will—and for me—to understand. I mean, after all you've been through together, how can you not love him?"

"I do love him," Ivy insisted. "But maybe not the way he wants to be loved."

Beth leaned forward, looking into Ivy's eyes. "The way anyone wants to be loved!"

"Yes, yes, you're right," Ivy admitted. "But, Beth, you can't always choose how you love a person. Love isn't logical or fair. It just happens."

In the faint starlight, Ivy saw the silver trace of a tear running down Beth's face.

"Did you tell him that I saw Tristan the night of the accident?" Ivy asked.

"That you thought you saw Tristan—no. No, he's already convinced he's competing with a dead guy. I'm not going to make it any harder for him. Ivy, did you really forget your date tonight?" Ivy nodded.

"I was with Guy, helping him."

"Guy!"

"Yes, cleaning out a barn, so he'd have a decent place to live, and—"

"Ivy, you have to be careful," Beth warned. "You have no idea who Guy is."

"What I know about him is more important than the name he's forgotten. There's a special connection between Guy and me, something I've felt only once before—with Tristan." Ivy ignored the disapproval that lined her friend's face.

"Beth, Guy was telling me about his dream house, and it was exactly like Philip's tree house. Guy couldn't remember what music he liked, but suddenly recognized 'Moonlight Sonata,' Tristan's song. And without even knowing what melody it was, he hummed a song from
Carousel.
Don't you remember—Tristan tried to communicate with me by playing on my piano notes from
Carousel."

Beth shook her head with disbelief, but Ivy continued. "I think Tristan has come back to me."

"Oh, Ivy, no! That couldn't be."

"Why not?" Ivy asked, grasping the edge of the swing. "He spoke through Will and you last year. Why couldn't he now be speaking through Guy, giving me these signs that he is still with me? The night of the accident, Tristan promised—"

"Does Guy claim to hear another person's voice?" Beth asked.

"No, but—"

Beth leaned forward, placing a hand on Ivy's wrist. "When Tristan was here as an angel, we heard him. When he slipped into our minds, we knew who he was. And we never forgot our own identities."

Ivy pulled away from her friend. They sat for a moment in silence. Ivy fighting her anger with Beth for not believing as she did. When Ivy looked back, Beth was pulling on her amethyst necklace. Her lips moved silently, then she said aloud, "Something evil is walking among us."

"What?"

"Ever since the séance I have felt a presence," Beth said, her voice shaking. "It's him. It's Gregory. I haven't felt this way since he was alive."

Ivy stared at her friend, trying to understand what she was saying. "Beth, I know you were spooked by the séance. We all were. But why would you think that Gregory is haunting us? Has something else happened to scare you?"

Her friend didn't reply. "Tell me," Ivy said.

"A dream." Beth rubbed one hand with the other, digging her fist into her palm. "I've had it twice."

"Tell me," Ivy insisted.

"We're in the cottage, you, me, Dhanya, Kelsey. It's Aunt Cindy's cottage, but it has lots of windows, windows everywhere. Someone is circling the house, shooting at the windows. The bullets pierce the glass but don't go all the way through. We're running from room to room, and the shooter runs around the outside of the cottage, targeting the windows of whichever room we're in. He keeps circling, but you tell us everything's all right. We're safe, you say, the shooter can't break through the windows. Then he quietly opens the door and walks in."

Ivy sat back in the swing, rubbing her arms, her skin prickling. "Don't you get it?" Beth said, sounding suddenly angry. "You were careless and let the shooter in, just like you let in Guy!"

"Beth, not every dream you have is clairvoyant. Sometimes you dream about things that people tell you. Will doesn't like Guy. He's planted these fears in you."

Beth's eyes flashed. "It makes no difference what Will says. I see what I see!"

"So do I," Ivy replied, then rose from the swing.

"Ivy!"

She turned back reluctantly. Beth's hand clutched her amethyst. "If it's Gregory, you will need all the power of heaven to protect you."

Seventeen

"YOU KNOW, I THOUGHT YOU WERE, LIKE, MISS
Perfect,"
Kelsey said to Ivy the next evening. "And when you were hanging with Will, you were, like, Mr. and Mrs. Perfect. Couple of the year."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"So what exactly did he say to you?" Kelsey asked. They were standing outside the cottage, Kelsey bouncing a badminton birdie up and down on a racket.

Plunk, plunk, plunk.

"The kind of thing people usually say when they're breaking up," Ivy replied.

"Snide comments and sweeping accusations," Kelsey guessed. "I've done it myself a few times."

"Then I don't need to fill you in."

"He'll get over it," Kelsey said, and flicked her head toward the barn. "He has plenty of sympathy."

Beth had canceled her date with Chase, and Dhanya had decided that she really missed watching TV. Ivy pictured Will on his daybed, with Beth and Dhanya on either side of him, holding him up by the elbows like supportive angels.

"Want to play?" Kelsey asked, extending a badminton racket toward Ivy.

"Okay." They took warm up swings, batting the birdie back and forth across the net. "So, are you dating that gorgeous mystery guy?" Kelsey asked.

"Dating? No."

"Beth told us that's where you were when you forgot about your date with Will." Ivy caught up with the sinking birdie and flicked it off the rim of her racket.

"I was helping Guy clear out a place to live."

"Beth doesn't trust him." Ivy didn't respond. "Why doesn't she?" Kelsey asked.

"I don't know," Ivy said, and dove for the birdie. Kelsey appeared to change her strategy, placing her shots in easy reach of Ivy, perhaps thinking that would encourage her to talk more.

'"What do you think of Chase?"

"Don't really know him," Ivy replied, reluctant to share her opinion with someone likely to pass it on. Kelsey rolled her eyes.

"Well, five minutes gave me enough time. He's creepy."

"Creepy?" Ivy repeated with an easy swing.

"He's a control freak," Kelsey said. "There's nothing I hate more than a guy who tries to control a girl."

Ivy doubted that any guy had been successful at controlling Kelsey. "Beth told us about Tristan." Ivy returned the serve without comment "I had no idea! I've never known anyone whose boyfriend was murdered!"

Ivy swatted the birdie hard. "I wish I could have met Tristan and Gregory," Kelsey continued. "Last summer must have been awesome!"

Ivy stood flat footed—didn't even swing. What did Kelsey think last summer was, a reality survival show? "Keep your eye on the birdie," Kelsey advised.

"Beth said that Will was totally there for you when Tristan died."

"He was. No one could have been kinder."

"But kindness isn't passion," Kelsey replied. "And we like passion."

Ivy returned the serve with a passionate stroke. "Kelsey, don't assume anything about my and Will's relationship."

"I wouldn't have to assume if you filled me in." In spite of herself, Ivy laughed.

"Beth said you're having a memorial bonfire for Tristan at Race Point. Can Dhanya and I come?"

"I'm not sure it's still on."

"It is," Kelsey informed her. "That's another thing I don't like: guys who act loyal and thoughtful, no matter what you do. I mean, what are they trying to prove?"

Ivy dropped the head of her racket. "I've had enough."

"But we haven't started to keep score," Kelsey protested.

Ivy nodded. "A perfect time for me to quit."

Fifteen minutes later. Ivy slipped out the back door of the cottage and drove to the beach on Pleasant Bay where she, Will, and Philip had spent an afternoon a week ago. Sitting on the beach in the deepening twilight, not far from the cluster of trees that Will had sketched, she sifted through memories, trying to understand why it had taken her so long to realize she couldn't give Will her heart.

Rising to her feet, she followed the same route she and Philip had taken around a sandy point to a cove. With no moon, the calm water was bathed in starlight.

Ivy remembered the cathedral of stars where Tristan had kissed her. She whispered his name and could almost hear him answer, "My love." Almost.

The voice she heard in her head was a memory—she knew that. What she had heard then was actually happening.

The difference between now and then made the moment after the accident all the more real to her. To Ivy, the embrace was more real than the most tangible and ordinary moments of her life.

But what if it had been Tristan, and Lacey was right about the consequences?

"Serious fallout"—what did that mean? And what evil presence did Beth sense? Could Gregory return?

"Lacey. Lacey Lovett. I need to talk to you," Ivy called. She sat by the water's edge, watching, waiting. Minutes ticked by. Across the bay, the yellow edge of the moon peeked over a narrow strip of beach.

"You have the lousiest timing!" Seeing the purple shimmer. Ivy stood up. "Hey, Lacey."

"So what is it this time—another beatific vision? Ivy dancing with the stars?"

Ivy watched the angel twirl, her purple mist dancing in front of the low moon, then said, "Beth is having dreams."

"Beth—the radio?"

"Radio" was Lacey's term for a person who was open to "the other side," a natural medium. "Yes," Ivy said, and recounted the dream.

"When was the first time she had it?"

"I'm not sure. Two Sundays ago, when we had a séance—"

"A séance!" Lacey exclaimed. "The radio should know better!" Ivy described the event, including the strange way the planchette had moved in counterclockwise circles, and how it had seemed impossible for them to slow it down. "And this happened before your accident?" Ivy thought back to it.

"A few days before."

"Unbelievable. Unbelievable! Do you have a brain? Does the radio have even a shred of common sense, opening up a portal like that to the other side? Are you so narcissistic that you think that only good angels hang around you?"

"I—no—I never thought about—meaning, we could have let in—"

"Invited" Lacey corrected. "Flagged down, hailed a taxi for—"

"Something evil."

"Something evil," Lacey confirmed. Ivy crouched and traced a counterclockwise circle in the sand, then another, and another. A hand with purple painted nails caught her arm. "Stop that!"

"Is it possible for Gregory to come back as a demon?" Ivy asked. ''Obviously, you missed a lot of Sunday school. Anything is possible with Number One Director."

Ivy rose and walked along the cove's waterline. "But why would Gregory return?" she mused to herself.

"Revenge, murder, mayhem . . ." Lacey suggested.

It was what Beth had been thinking: If it's Gregory, you will need all the power of heaven to protect you. "Revenge against me," Ivy said. "But how would he do that?" Lacey responded with a loud, theatrical sigh.

"Think it through, chick. I'm sure you're not as naive as you seem. How did Tristan come back?"

"He worked through people's minds. He matched thoughts with us and slipped inside. We could hear him like a voice in our heads—Beth, Will, Philip, and finally, me."

"Later, Eric and Gregory, although I advised him against entering their twisted minds." Ivy felt as if an icy hand had touched her own. "Gregory could get inside people?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Lacey said to her imaginary audience, "the chick is catching on."

"He could get into someone's mind and talk?"

"Persuade," Lacey said quietly. "Tempt." Ivy shivered.

"As you may remember," Lacey added, "Gregory could torture and tempt even when he was alive."

"Could he force someone to do something?"

"Who needs force, when people are so gullible, so easy to trick and convince? Not mentioning any names, of course."

"How can we fight him?'

"We?" Lacey's purple mist began to move away from Ivy. "In my movie days, I did some horror flicks, but I'm not starring in this one. You're on your own."

"How do my friends and I fight him?"

"I'm sure you can come up with something. Or maybe the radio can. I have one piece of advice: Be careful who you trust."

Ivy bit her lip.

"Look, chick, I'm sorry about this mess you're in, but I've got my hands full right now. I think I've found my one true gig, and I'm short on time. I've got to cut out these cameo appearances." The angel's violet shimmer was fading. "Say hello to Philip."

Lacey had almost disappeared when Ivy said, "But what if Tristan has come back to protect me from Gregory? Her words had the desired effect: "What?!" exclaimed Lacey.

"I've seen the signs. Tristan is with me, as he promised he would be." Ivy felt a strong hand anchoring her at the bay's edge.

"That's a ridiculous idea! If Tristan was here I would see him." Lacey had a point. Why wasn't she aware of him? Was Tristan hiding inside Guy? Hiding from whom?

"Ivy, if Tristan did give you the kiss of life," Lacey said, "he's in deep trouble. Don't try to contact him. Don't tempt him further. You've already gotten him killed. Don't damn him forever."