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Authors: Elizabeth Chandler

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Eighteen

LACEY HAD ALWAYS BEEN MELODRAMATIC, IVY TOLD herself, as she sat alone in the cottage Thursday evening. Beth, Dhanya, and Will had left for a seven thirty movie.

Spurned by Dhanya, Max had roared off with Kelsey and Bryan to a party in Harwich. As soon as they were gone. Ivy took out her phone, playing a message she'd received an hour before, wanting to hear Guy's voice again: "lt's me. Kip got me a cell. Want to come over tonight?"

Pushing aside the warnings of Lacey and Beth, Ivy drove to Willow Pond.

When she arrived, she saw a pickup parked in front of the house. A dark haired woman in her late twenties stood next to it, holding open the door for a golden Lab, which lumbered into the passenger seat. The woman called hello to Ivy and introduced herself as Julie, Kip's wife.

"I hope you didn't have special plans tonight," Julie said. "Guy is on the back porch sound asleep. He and Kip started hacking away at tree stumps at six a.m."

Ivy smiled. "Just hanging out." Ivy walked around the house and found Guy asleep on the porch that faced the pond, lying on a canvas drop cloth, his shirt off, his body turned so that he was on his side, his head resting on his arm. In the evening light, his tanned skin and fair hair looked golden, reminding Ivy of a painting she had seen once of a sleeping angel.

Then she remembered the subject of the painting: a fallen angel, after his battle with heaven. She turned and walked toward the pond.

Fleabag was snoozing in the long grass. Ivy sat on the bank not far from the cat, gazing out at the water, enjoying the pond's reflection of the fiery sky and dark green trees.

The evening was the first really warm one they'd had on the cape, balmy and sweet scented, the way summer nights were inland. She waded into the pond.

After the brine of the ocean, the freshwater felt soothing to her skin. Her shorts and halter top were as light as a bathing suit She swam and swam, loving the solitude and peace of the place. When she was tired, she flipped on her back to float.

It's such a great feeling, Ivy. Do you know what it's like to float on a lake, a circle of
trees around you, a big blue bowl of sky above you?

Tristan, she called to him silently. I do know—I know now, Tristan. "Hey, are you asleep out there?" Guy shouted to her. Ivy raised her head, then pulled her feet under her and stood up.

"Asleep!" she hollered back. "You're the one who was snoring."

"No way!" He looked around, then pointed. "I think you must have heard Fleabag."

"Cats can't purr that loud," she teased, and waded toward shore. When she was a few feet from Guy, he said, "You looked so happy out there."

"I was. It's such a great feeling, floating on a pond, a circle of trees around you, the sun sparkling at the tips of your fingers and toes."

Perhaps it was a reflection off the water. For a moment Guy's eyes seemed brilliant, the color of Tristan's "big blue bowl of sky."

"Come on in," Ivy coaxed.

Guy looked down at the water that lapped his ankles and swallowed hard. "I don't think I know how to swim."

Ivy tried to hide her disappointment. If Tristan was in Guy, Guy wouldn't fear water as calm as a swimming pool's.

Live in the present moment
, Ivy told herself.
Help him, as Tristan helped you
.

Tristan had eased her beyond her fear by suggesting they take "a walk" in the school swimming pool. She reached for Guy's hand. "Come on. Let's go for a walk in the pond."

After a moment of hesitation, Guy took her hand. They walked slowly and quietly together, moving through the liquid gold of the pond. When the water was waist deep on Guy, Ivy stopped, and ran her fingers across the water's still surface, sending out plum colored ripples.

She faced Guy, then scooped up water, pouring handfuls over his shoulders and chest. Reaching higher, she bathed his cheeks and forehead, remembering how Tristan had done that for her. "You okay?" Guy nodded, then smiled sheepishly.

"We won't walk any farther. Can you crouch?" she asked. Bending her legs, she lowered herself until the water reached her chin. Guy did the same, moving slowly and steadily, but when the water touched his neck, he instinctively pulled up.

"Easy does it." She reached for his other hand, holding them both securely in hers. He lowered himself again, until their faces were inches apart.

"Next time I'll bring a float and give you a real lesson. Today, we'll just splash around so you can get used to it. Can you put your face in the water?"

He tried, then jerked his head back, straightening up quickly. "This is humiliating. I couldn't breathe. My throat closed up and—"

"Symptoms of panic," Ivy said calmly, "which is a rational response after what you've been through. Here." She laid her hands palms up on the surface of the water. "Hold your breath and rest your face in my hands for a moment,"

"I feel stupid."

"No one's watching."

Guy grimaced but did as she said, laying his face in her wet hands. He did it repeatedly. Ivy lowering her hands a bit each time until his face was immersed.

''Okay," Guy said. "I've got that down. This time I'll do it without you.... You don't think I'm acting too macho, do you?" he added, laughing at himself.

She grinned back at him. "When your face is in the water, blow out through your nose." He did the drill several times, then said, "I bet you've never had a student progress this fast. What's next?"

"Going all the way under." Ivy saw the hesitation and the goose bumps on his arms. "But let's just hang out and do that next time."

"I'll do it now," he insisted.

"You have nothing to prove, Guy."

"I'm going all the way under," he said.

"When you're ready—"

"I can handle this!" he told her, and Ivy took a step back. His voice lightened.

"Count for me, okay? See how long I can stay under." He quickly dropped below the pond's surface.

Ivy counted aloud, "One thousand one, one thousand two," then saw his back convulse and yanked him upward with all her strength. He had swallowed water and was choking—panicking again.

"You're okay, you're okay," she told him. He leaned over, holding his stomach.

He couldn't stop shaking. "You're okay, Guy." He turned away from her, as if ashamed. She put her arms around him from behind and wouldn't let go until he stopped trembling.

"It's . . . the darkness," he said. "Being in the darkness."

"I should have thought about that," she replied. "When Tristan taught me to swim, we were in a clear, well lit pool." Guy turned toward her. "Tristan, the guy who died—taught you to swim?"

"Yes. He loved water."

"And you were afraid of it," Guy said.

"Terrified." Guy reached for Ivy, pulling her to him, holding her roughly, awkwardly in his arms. She could feel his heart pounding against her.

He buried his face in her hair. "I will never forget you. Ivy," he whispered. "If ever I forget you, there will be nothing but darkness left for me."

BETH AND DHANYA ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT before Ivy. She found Dhanya reading, curled in a living room chair, and Beth on the sofa, hunched over the puzzle. "Hi," Ivy said. "How was the movie?"

"Good," Dhanya replied. Beth didn't respond, and both girls, looking up, eyed Ivy's damp clothes and hair, not missing a detail. "You were with him, weren't you," Beth said, making it sound like an accusation rather than a question.

"I was with Guy. Please use his name."

"But that's not his name," Beth pointed out.

"It's his name for now!" Ivy replied, and continued on to the kitchen, where she grabbed a handful of cookies and headed upstairs.

That night, Ivy tossed and turned. Well after the others were asleep, she kicked away her sheets and sat up. Her alarm clock read 2:43 a.m.

She and Beth had tied up the curtain on the window between their beds, but there wasn't a breeze on this unusually warm night. The moon, nearly full, made a bright patch across Beth's bed. Her sheets were on the floor, her face bathed in perspiration, but she slept soundly.

There is nothing harder than being around others and feeling isolated, Ivy thought. She dropped her feet over the side of the bed, debating whether to grab a beach towel and sit outside. Cht! Cht!

Ivy's head jerked to the left. Something had struck the window—the glass above the screen.

She held still, staring at the window glass. Then, remembering Beth's dream, Ivy turned to her. Beth's eyes moved beneath her lids and her breath was quick—she was dreaming now.

Ivy moved closer to the window. She saw no one among the trees at their end of the house, but the bright moon threw sharp shadows; it would be easy for a person to hide there.

The cottage doors were rarely locked. Feeling slightly uneasy, Ivy pulled on her shorts and headed for the stairway.

Cht! Cht!

She spun around. At the same time Beth sat up. "Ivy?"

"Yes."

"Ivy?" Beth cried out again, sounding frightened. Ivy hurried back to her. "I'm here."

"It's him. He's shooting at the window!" Ivy laid a hand on Beth's shoulder, "No, no, it's not." She sat on the bed. "It was probably something from the trees, seeds or whatever."

"It's him!" Beth insisted, then saw that Ivy was wearing her shorts and shoes.

"Don't go outside.'"

"Everything's okay. I was just going downstairs to check things."

"Don't! It's him!" Beth's eyes were wide with fear. Ivy put her arm around her friend. "You've been dreaming, Beth."

"Are the doors locked?"

"I'm going to check them now," Ivy replied, standing up. "No, Ivy! He'll do anything to get you!"

"Beth, listen to me. You're getting this mixed up with your dream."

Cht! Cht!

They both turned to the window. ''What's that?" Dhanya asked, sitting up in bed.

She climbed out and tiptoed across the room to them.

"Don't go near the window," Beth told her. "He'll see you."

"Who will?" Dhanya asked.

"Dhanya!" a male voice called.

"Max!" Dhanya and Ivy said at the same time.

"Did you hear? It's just Max." Ivy told Beth, feeling both relieved and annoyed.

Dhanya frowned. "Why is he here? I don't want to talk to him."

"Dhanya!" Ivy went to the window, shoved up the screen, and leaned out. "Go home. Max." He emerged from the shadows. "Ivy! How are ya?" He sounded pleased to see her—and drunk.

"It's late. Go home."

"I wanna talk to Dhanya," he said.

"She doesn't want to talk to you. Not in the middle of the night."

"Dhan ya!"

"Shhh!" Ivy pulled back inside the window. "He's going to wake the guests," she told Dhanya.

"Tell that coyote to stop yelping," Kelsey called from her bed. "I need my beauty sleep!"

"I won't speak to him," Dhanya said to Ivy. "I haven't yet decided if I like him."

She started back to bed. "I'm sorry." Ivy said, "but if Max wakes the guests or Aunt Cindy, we're all in trouble. You're coming outside with me. You're talking to him and sending him off."

"You go, girl!" Kelsey cried, then flopped back on her bed.

Beth shook her head, holding her pillow to her chest, as if it were protection.

Dhanya reluctantly put on a robe and shoes, then followed Ivy downstairs.

When Max saw them marching toward him, he stood up, and just as quickly, sank back against a tree. Ivy sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was drive to Morris Island in the middle of the night, but she couldn't let him drive himself if he wasn't sober.

"Dhanya! You're breakin' my heart!" Dhanya rolled her eyes.

"How'd you get here?" Ivy asked him. He pointed unsteadily toward the inn's lot. "Bryne."

Ivy struggled to understand. "Bryan? He's here? Where's your keys?"

"Bryne," Max said again. Ivy turned to Dhanya. "Talk to him and keep your voices low. I'll check the lot." The yellow Ferrari sat in the middle of the lot, Bryan in its driver's seat, plugged into his iPod. His eyes were shut.

Ivy called his name several times, then shook him lightly. Startled out of his sleep, he swung his whole body toward her, fist raised. "Hey! Hey, it's me."

"Ivy!" he said, surprised, and dropped his arm.

"Have you been drinking?" He pulled out his cell phone to check the time.

"Not for two hours." He sounded clearheaded.

"Would you mind getting out of the car?" she asked.

He laughed. "Want me to walk a line, officer?"

"Yup."

He complied, grinning.

"Listen," Ivy said, "your buddy isn't scoring any points with Dhanya. Take Max home… quietly."

Bryan nodded. "Understood. I apologize." He retrieved Max, who, after pimply talking with Dhanya, seemed to be a happier camper.

Ivy and Dhanya wearily entered the cottage, and after a moment's thought, Ivy locked both the front and back door. When she climbed into bed, Beth was lying with her eyes closed, the sheet pulled up to her chin. Resting on the pillow, close to her face, the amethyst glittered in the moonlight.

"Good night," Ivy said softly. "Everything's okay now."

"Don't be fooled," Beth replied. "He's making plans. He wants revenge."

Nineteen

FRIDAY MORNING, BETH AND IVY WERE ASSIGNED TO the garden to weed and deadhead. While Ivy pried at stubborn roots, Beth silently worked her way down the rows of faded blossoms —snip, snip, snip. She had spoken little since the morning alarm went off, bringing each conversation Ivy had begun to a quick close with a one word answer.

"So you don't remember Max coming around, yelling for Dhanya?"

"No."

"Do you remember dreaming?" Ivy asked.

"No."

"Beth, are you mad at me?" Beth snipped off a flower head that was still blooming.

"No." Ivy gave up.

At three p.m., Aunt Cindy thanked everyone for a solid day's work and shooed them off. Beth, Dhanya, and Will sunned in the garden, the girls falling asleep, and Will finishing up some sketches for The Angel and the Alley Cat. Kelsey, deciding she had been much too available to Bryan, headed to Nauset Beach, targeting an area on the long strip of oceanfront that was known to attract surfers.

Ivy returned to Pleasant Bay and handwrote a rambling letter to her mother—Maggie disliked e-mail. Describing Provincetown and recounting funny moments with the inn's guests, Ivy omitted everything of real importance.

That finished, she debated whether to send a text message to her friend Suzanne. She knew that Suzanne's trip to Europe was her way of putting distance between last summer and now.

When Suzanne told Ivy and Beth that they wouldn't be hearing from her for a while. Ivy had understood. Suzanne had been totally in love with Gregory, and he had milked that passion as much as he could. Drawing Ivy into his web, he continually strove to make Suzanne jealous. In the end Suzanne, like Ivy, lost someone she truly loved.

Taking out her iPhone, Ivy typed in:
MISS U. DON'T HAFTO REPLY
.
JUST THINKING OF U. LUV IVY
. Then she left a voicemail on Guy's phone: "Hi. Hope you're having a good day chopping at tree stumps. Say hello to Fleabag." Finally, she lay back and fell asleep.

Arriving home just before six. Ivy found Dhanya standing in front of the long mirror that was attached to the bathroom door, turning this way and that, studying herself in a short, flirty skirt.

"I think I'd better wear my bikini bottom under this." she said, leaning over, looking at herself upside down in the mirror.

"Well, if you're planning to do a lot of that, yeah," Ivy replied, smiling.

Beth emerged from the bathroom combing through her wet hair. She smelled of herbal shampoo.

"Chase called," Dhanya told her. Beth frowned.

"He's been calling my cell all day."

"Well, now he's calling mine. Did you give him my number?"

"No. It's on my phone and I lent it to him to make a call, but..." Beth's voice trailed off.

"Anyway," Dhanya said, "I told him you'd phone when you finished your shower."

"You shouldn't have."

"But I thought you'd want to bring him tonight," Dhanya said, and turned to Ivy. "Bryan's uncle gave him passes to his indoor rink, and we're all invited. Want to come?"

"Ice skating?" It would be awkward with Will, but sooner or later they would have to get used to being around each other. "Okay."

"Awesome!" Dhanya said, and turned to Beth. "The more people we have, the more fun it will be."

"Maybe," Beth said, retreating to the bathroom to dry her hair. A few minutes later, Kelsey blew in from surfer land, showered, then tugged on thin, skintight biking shorts and a workout top that was more demi bra than athletic wear.

Chase had earned an invitation on his second call to Dhanya, and Beth's mood shifted from obvious irritation to quiet resignation. As they gathered in front of the cottage, she hung close to Will. Bryan, friendly as always, noticed Kelsey in her sexy outfit, but didn't ignore the other girls. Cracking jokes, he herded everyone toward their cars like a boisterous camp counselor.

Twenty minutes later, they discovered Bryan's Uncle Pat, the rink's owner, had the same outgoing manner.

"Got the date night music on," he told them as they stood at the counter for skate rentals. "Don't worry, ladies, I didn't pick it out. And Bryan didn't either."

Everyone except Bryan and Max rented skates. Max had ditched his Hawaiian prints for a preppy looking shirt with jeans; Ivy wondered if word had gotten back to him that Dhanya found him "tacky." Perhaps after driving him home last night, Bryan had given him a little advice.

"I didn't know you were into skating," Kelsey said to Max as he laced up skates that looked expensive and new.

"He's not," Bryan replied for his friend. "Maxie keeps a complete set of toys at each of his residences."

Chase, walking around on his rentals, felt compelled to explain that he had left three kinds of skates at his home in Jackson Hole. Then he turned to Beth and said, "Let me help you with those laces, Elizabeth."

"I've got them," Beth answered, but when she was done, she allowed him to take her hand and lead her to the ice. Bryan and Kelsey followed, then quickly passed them and all the other skaters with their long, athletic strokes.

Max, Dhanya, Ivy, and Will stood awkwardly on the rubber matting. Then Will reached for Dhanya's hand, which left Max and Ivy to feel like the last ones chosen for playground dodge ball. "Do you want a partner?" Max asked. "I'd like to skate with you later on," Ivy answered politely, "but I'd prefer to go alone at first."

She skated several circles of the rink, getting lapped by Kelsey and Bryan, but staying behind the couples, enjoying the feel of the smooth ice beneath her feet, and thinking that, if not Bryan's uncle, it must have been her own mother who had picked out the date night music. Oh, well, anything with a beat.

When Chase stopped to adjust his laces. Ivy skated up to Beth and linked arms.

"I'm snatching your partner, Chase." Last winter, Beth and Ivy had skated together every weekend, both of them enjoying the exercise. Skating as a pair, matching each other's stride and settling into a comfortable pace, was usually easy for them, but not tonight. Beth skated stiffly.

"I got a text from Philip," Ivy said, hoping Beth's affection for him would serve as abridge between them.

"So did I."

"I think he misses both of his 'big sisters.'" Beth nodded. "He's really looking forward to the newest adventure of The Angel and the Alley Cat"

"Will's sending it Monday," Beth said.

"How's Will doing?" Ivy asked, then felt the jerk in Beth's arm. "Don't pull away from me, Beth. I love him as much as I love you, you know that. Please don't pull away from me."

They skated the curve of the rink, Beth looking straight ahead. "He's okay," Beth said at last.

"And how are you doing?" Ivy asked.

"Okay."

Ivy felt completely shut out. Striving for patience, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, watching Max ease back to join Will and Dhanya. There was a moment of conversation, then Max skated off with Dhanya.

Kelsey and Bryan came up from behind and blew past everyone. "I guess you call that power skating," Ivy remarked.

"I'd call it competition," Beth replied. "They compete as a way of seducing each other."

"Compete how?" Ivy asked, glad they had finally gotten a conversation going.

"How much they drink, how long they party, how fast they drive..."

"Really! Who told you that?"

"Dhanya. At the beach, they compete to see who can be the most outrageous flirt—with other people, I mean."

"Suzanne and Gregory's old game," Ivy remarked. Beth met her eyes, then glanced away. It had been Suzanne and Gregory's favorite sport, and they had played the game like Olympians, an endless competition to see who could flirt and frustrate the other to the point of explosion.

Beth and Ivy skated another lap before Chase caught up, slipping in between them. "You know, Elizabeth, playing hard to get doesn't always make a guy want you."

"I wasn't playing hard to get or trying to make you want me." Beth replied.

Chase laughed, as if she had meant to be humorous. "I think it's strange—girls dancing with girls, girls skating with girls, waiting for guys to notice them."

"Sometimes," Ivy said, "they're just skating and dancing." He turned to her, his gray eyes glittering.

"Rarely." He reached for Beth's hand and Ivy watched them skate off, Beth keeping her head turned slightly away. While outwardly compliant; Beth wasn't connecting—
not with Chase or me,
 Ivy thought. The difference was, Chase was so egotistical, he didn't realize it.

She exited the ice, wishing she had brought her own car and could drive home.

The rink had a concession area with wooden tables and chairs painted in bright orange and blue. Photos of hockey teams lined the walls. Sitting down, Ivy reached for her phone to see if Guy had called. "Tired?" Dhanya asked.

Disappointed that there was no message, Ivy glanced up at Dhanya and Max, who had followed her off the ice. "Just taking a break."

"How about an ice cream?" Max suggested. "My treat." Ivy didn't want any, but she acquiesced, willing to let him score whatever points he could with Dhanya as a "thoughtful" guy.

While they were ordering, Chase, Beth, and Will joined them, so they pushed together two tables and arranged chairs around them. Bryan and Kelsey were the last to leave the ice, staging a rather dramatic conversation—perhaps an argument—in the middle of the rink, which left both of them with flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

Like Suzanne and Gregory, Ivy thought, as they approached the concession stand. She told herself that it was simply the way some guys and girls played the romance game, but sometimes she felt as if she would never escape the memories of last summer.

The eight of them had just sat down with their ice cream cones when Ivy's phone rang. Will turned to Ivy as if surprised. Of course, he knew the ring tones of her friends, her mother, Andrew, and Philip, just as she knew the ringtones of his friends and his father. It was one more example of how intertwined their lives had become, that he knew this ring was different. Still, she prickled at the way he looked at her, as if no one should be calling her except the people that he had pre approved.

Walking a short distance away from the others, she put the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey. It's me."

"Hey."

"Whoever that is," Guy added quickly. Ivy laughed and sat down on a chair at another table. "How was work?"

"Hard. And fun. Guess what, I've got wheels!"

"You do?" Ivy chased a dribble from her ice cream cone, catching it with her tongue.

"Kip has loaned me an old motorbike. So what're you doing?" Guy asked. "That doesn't sound like classical music in the background."

"No. It's disco—good to skate to, I guess." Ivy told him about the rink and free passes. "Want to come over?" There was a moment of silence.

"Who's with you?" he asked.

"Some people you haven't met." Ivy crunched on her cone. "Beth, Max, Bryan, and Chase. And Kelsey and Dhanya, who you might remember from the hospital solarium. And Will. I'd love to see you, Guy."

"I don't think Will would love to." Ivy glanced over her shoulder. Will and Beth were watching her, and Ivy assumed they had guessed who was calling her. She could ignore their stares and hostility, but it wasn't fair to subject Guy to it.

"Tomorrow then," she said. They talked a minute more before she returned to the table.

"I can guess who that was," Kelsey teased. Ivy popped the tip of her cone in her mouth. "The gorgeous amnesiac."

"The guy they fished out of the ocean?" Bryan asked, his interest piqued.

"In Chatham, right?" Max added. "What was his name?"

"He still doesn't remember," Ivy said. "He calls himself Guy."

"How original," Chase remarked. "I just don't see how anybody can remain un-known for so long," Bryan said. "Did you Google him?"

Chase leaned forward, "Using what search word?"

"I tried Missing Persons in Massachusetts and Rhode Island," Will told them.

Ivy looked at him with surprise. "And I assume the police and hospital did the same. I checked again yesterday, but there are still no matches."

"Why didn't you try the FBI's Most Wanted List!" Ivy exclaimed.

"I did. Of course, you have to be already convicted for that." Ivy turned away. "I checked with a friend of my father's in New York, a criminal defense attorney."

Ivy swung back. "l can't believe you did that!"

Will continued calmly: "He said that there are major turf battles and little communication between law enforcement officials from one town to the next and across state borders. Unless a person is running a major drug ring or part of a terrorist group, he could be on the lam or a suspect in a crime, and someone just ten miles away wouldn't be the wiser."

It took all of Ivy's effort not to blow up at him in front of the others. "Thank you for such a thorough investigation, Will." She crumpled the cone's tissue wrapper, and rising, tossed it in a trash can before heading back to the ice.

She had skated half a lap when Bryan caught up with her.

"Contrary to popular opinion, you have a temper," he said, grinning at her.

"Everyone has a point at which they lose their cool," Ivy replied.

"Absolutely," he agreed. "It's one of the interesting things you learn when getting to know a person, the point at which they break. You don't break easily," he added. Ivy kept skating. "Is that because you have extreme self control or because you naively believe that people aren't sticking it to you?"

"Are those the only two reasons you see for not losing your temper?"

He skated in front of her, turning to face her, skating backward. "You know another one?"

"Yes. You don't want to hurt the other person."

"Oh,
that
. .." He smiled at her. "Dance with me, Ivy!"

He slipped around behind her and skated close, his movements precisely matching hers. He faced her again, then turned her so that she skated backward.

Like a good dancer, Bryan had both the strength and skill to know how to lean and turn his partner, making it seem easy. Skating with him was fun and Ivy smiled.

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