Evercrossed (13 page)

Tiring of their dance, Bryan played a pretend game of hockey, rushing ahead, stopping on a dime, spinning back and circling Ivy as close as another skater could without actually touching. He skated backward, then charged her, as if he had a hockey puck, feinting to the left and the right. Ivy grinned and figured she was supposed to keep on skating—that he counted on her to hold a straight and steady line as he weaved and dodged about her. But once he faked so well she couldn't help it: She veered suddenly and they collided.

"Whoa!" He grabbed her to keep her from falling and they spun around, Bryan laughing and holding her tightly. When they stopped spinning, he didn't let go, not right away. Ivy extracted herself from his arms and saw Kelsey watching them.

"Let's just skate," Ivy said quietly to Bryan. "I think you've won this round with Kelsey." Bryan pulled her hand through the crook of his arm and skated in an easy rhythm with her. "And do you think that is all that I was trying to do—get to Kelsey?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I'll play along with you on that. I can pretend that I am madly in love with Kelsey and see no other girl but Kelsey, not even a girl with incredible hair and green eyes that a guy would never forget." When Ivy didn't respond, he turned to her. "I fake pretty well, you know."

"I know."

"You saw how well I could feint to the left and right. I can do that in more than hockey."

"Yes, and you saw what happens when you fake too convincingly. Not all collisions end well."

Bryan's eyes gleamed, and he threw back his head and laughed. "You have no idea," he said, then skated off.

Twenty

"YOUR BUTLER SHOWED ME IN," IVY SAID TO GUY ON Saturday afternoon, after Fleabag led her along the path that skirted the house to the pond.

Guy smiled and spread a towel beneath the dappled shade of an old apple tree.

They sat, resting back on their elbows, and talked about work: the eccentric artist whose lawn full of sculptures Guy had trimmed that morning, and the hermit crab Ivy had found hidden under a child's pillow. Guy's laughter came so much easier now. Ivy savored the sound of it.

"Do you want a swimming lesson today?" she asked.

"I was hoping you had brought your suit."

She nodded. "And a float. I'll be right back." Ivy changed her clothes in Guy's shed, then cut across the long grass to the pond. A hundred feet from the water she stopped. Guy was nowhere in sight. The cat stood at the pond's sandy edge, staring at the water. Guy's T-shirt lay next to him.

"Oh my God!" Ivy dropped the float and flew down the bank. "Guy!" she shouted. Ten feet into the pond she saw his dark shape at the bottom. "Guy!"

She reached down to pull him up. At the same time he rose to his feet, knocking Ivy backward into the water. Caught by surprise, she came up coughing and sneezing. "What the heck were you doing?"

"What were you doing?" he asked back, then, realizing the answer, started grinning. "Oh, you were saving me!" Feeling foolish. Ivy didn't smile.

"I've been practicing staying under water," Guy explained. "I have to be able to face this fear without my lifeguard hovering over me. Don't be mad, Ivy." She couldn't be. It was the same thing she had told Tristan the day she had arrived at the pool before him and tested her courage by diving for a penny.

"Look what I found," Guy said, opening his palm. Ivy's breath caught at the sight of the shiny penny.

"I saw it flashing under the water, like a piece of sun," he told her. "It's a sign."

She looked up quickly. "A sign... of what?" Tristan, are you there? she asked silently.

Guy hesitated. "Hope. Or maybe it's just a penny."

"No, it's a sign," she told him.

He studied the penny. "Think I'll put this on the blanket. I don't want to lose my piece of hope." Ivy watched Guy walk to shore, head down, seeming deep in thought as he examined the penny. Should she tell him about that day at the pool when they first kissed? But if Tristan was hiding in Guy and if Lacey was right....

"Ready for a swimming lesson?" she asked when he returned, carrying the float.

"As ready as ever."

"Okay. Kicking, breathing, and floating, those are today's objectives," she told him, trying to sound teacher like and disguise the fact that she felt his eyes wherever they lit on her skin.

She coached him on the flutter kick, then instructed him to use the float and kick his way back and forth across the pond. Their lesson moved on to breathing: "Pretend the water's a pillow for your head," she told him, as Tristan had once told her.

"You're a natural!" she announced ten minutes later. "You tell that to all your students."

"Let's try the back float." she said, and demonstrated it.

Guy studied her for a long minute, then cocked his head in a flirty way. "Can I just watch?"

"No." Grinning, he dropped back in the water, seat first, and sank straight down. When he came up sputtering, Ivy laughed, and he splashed her.

'I did the same thing when I was learning. You have to arch your spine and drop your head back far enough so that the water is lapping your forehead."

She showed him again. She remembered how Tristan had placed a hand under her back to support her, then let her go. I'm floating, she had whispered to him.

You're floating, Tristan had replied, gazing down at her.

Floating ... Floating . . . Guy was standing over her now and Ivy read it off his lips. She felt Guy touch the tips of her hair that had spread out in the water behind her.

He leaned over her, the sun behind his head making a halo of gold, his face lit by the reflections off the water. His arms surrounded her and lifted her up. It felt as if her body was awakening from a long sleep.

"Ivy." His mouth formed her name against her throat, then he sought her mouth and kissed her with unbearable sweetness.

The kiss was Tristan's. Ivy knew it, even if Guy did not. She longed to hold and be held by him. She reveled in the way he brushed her wet hair from her face.

When he kissed her ears and the tip of her nose, she laughed at his playfulness, sure that she felt Tristan's joy in Guy's touch.

Tristan, I love you
, she thought.
I'll love you always
.

Twenty one

IVY JOINED BETH AND AUNT CINDY AT CHURCH ON Sunday. With a shorthanded staff, Will told them he would stay at the inn. Through Beth, he had sent a message saying that he was gathering what they needed for the bonfire that evening.

Ever loyal and always thoughtful Will—was he proving it to her? Ivy chided herself for that thought. He had been through so much with her; he, too, needed this closure.

Maggie and Andrew waited till late afternoon to call, knowing that Ivy would be working most of the day. Now, with all but two couples checked out of the inn, she had the long front porch to herself and sat alone, gazing at the blue horizon, talking to them on the phone. About ten minutes later, Philip called her from his tree house.

"Lacey visited me this morning," he said.

"She did?"

"In church." Philip giggled. "She started tickling me."

"That sounds like Lacey."

"It was in the middle of Reverend Heap's sermon."

"That really sounds like Lacey."

"He gave me a look," Philip went on, "then one of the old ladies who takes care of the flowers started pointing at me and saying 'an angel, an angel!'" Ivy laughed. "She could see Lacey's shimmer."

"Then she's a believer," Ivy said. "But other people, like Reverend Heap, could only see me. Mom turned really red."

"How about Andrew—Dad?" Ivy added, shifting to the name that Philip used.

"He thought it was pretty funny. Anyway, Lacey said she was just checking in because we both missed Tristan. I still miss Tristan." Ivy got a lump in her throat.

"Mom, Dad, and I looked at pictures of him when we got home."

"Good idea," Ivy said, wiping away a tear. "I think I'll do the same." After Philip signed off, Ivy stared at her cell phone for a long time, debating whether to call Guy. Today of all days, she wanted to hear his voice.

On the wicker table next to Ivy sat a jug filled with bright pink roses, freshly cut from Aunt Cindy's garden. The scent of them carried Ivy back to the last night she and Tristan had together. He had brought her a bouquet of lavender roses.

To Ivy, their unusual color symbolized a once in a lifetime love. And they reminded her of water— water at dawn, water at sunset, the water that gave earthbound Tristan his wings. Tristan, are you with me?

It was crazy, she told herself, believing Tristan had come back to her. It was unfair to Guy, seeing someone else in him. And yet, the feeling was so strong.

Tristan, are you there?
The phone rang. Ivy listened to the ringtone for a full minute before answering. "Hi."

"Hey, it's me," Guy said. "I was afraid you weren't going to pick up."

"I was . . . thinking about things," she said. "What're you doing?"

"Hacking at tree stumps. And you? Besides all that thinking, I mean."

"When the weekenders leave we have a lot of cleanup. I did that and went to church, and talked to my family."

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your voice," Guy said. "There's something wrong." Ivy fought back her tears.

"Ivy? Ivy; are you there?" he asked, in response to her long silence.

"Hold on."

She dug into her pockets for tissue. "Are you okay? Ivy, talk to me!"

"I'm okay." She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"All right. You don't have to say anything," he told her. "Just don't hang up on me."

"I won't." Finally regaining her composure. Ivy said, "I'm here."

"What's going on?" Guy asked.

"Today ... today is June twenty fifth."

"Which is a special day," he replied. Did he know that or was he just guessing?

"Yes, Tristan's anniversary," Ivy said aloud. "He died one year ago today."

Guy didn't respond right away. "I'm sorry. What can I do to help? Do you want me to come over? Do you want to come here? Would you rather be alone?"

"Will, Beth, and I are going to have a bonfire at Race Point. Tristan was a terrific swimmer, a racer."

"Then I think he would be happy to be remembered that way."

"Would you come?" she asked suddenly. "Please?" Guy hesitated.

"Um ... Sure," he said. "I'll meet you there. What time?"

"Around eight." After their conversation, Ivy went for a long walk.

A little after six, she returned to the cottage to change into jeans and found Dhanya sitting on the swing. "How's it going?" Dhanya asked.

"Okay. Thanks."

"Will told Kelsey and me about the bonfire. He invited us." Ivy was taken aback.

"It's not a party."

"It's a wake," Kelsey said, emerging from the cottage carrying a long slice of pizza that flopped over the edge of her paper plate. "And wakes are parties for the dead, the best way to honor the dearly departed."

"His name is Tristan," Ivy replied, and headed inside. She was angry. Why would Will think she'd like to have Dhanya and Kelsey along? But then, she had invited Guy, and Will would be just as unhappy about her invitation. Be fair, she told herself.

A half hour later, after Will piled firewood, shovels, and a cooler in the trunk of his car. Ivy climbed in the backseat and Beth in the front. Kelsey and Dhanya followed Will in Kelsey's Jeep.

During the thirty mile trip. Ivy kept waiting for the right moment to tell them that Guy was coming, but couldn't find an opening. Both Beth and Will were quiet.

It occurred to Ivy that Will had invited the other girls as a buffer, to keep things from getting too intense. When the two cars arrived at the parking lot, Kelsey offered to drag the wheeled cooler across the dunes. Will carried the logs and Ivy the kindling. Beth picked up the beach towels and an armful of purple salvia that she had cut from Aunt Cindy's garden. Ivy entrusted Dhanya with the photo album she had brought.

Large dunes separated the lot from the beach and they walked in slow procession along the main path between the dunes. Ivy liked the effort of walking in the deep sand; the ocean breeze was cool, but the sand felt warm beneath her feet.

Ivy and Will dug the fire pit. Beth sat on a beach blanket holding the album that Dhanya had set down. Kelsey immediately plundered the ice chest, only to discover that no alcohol had been packed.

She and Dhanya played in the shallow foam of the ocean, laughing and splashing each other. When the pit was dug. Will placed the logs and arranged the kindling. Ivy gazed out at the indigo water. Race Point Beach lay along the northern edge of the National Seashore, where the Cape's long finger curled back toward the mainland. The bend in the beach, like the bend in the horizon, made Ivy feel as if she was standing on a ledge between two worlds. The world she had always known was glowing in the west, gold and rose colored.

But another world of mauve and starlight like the one on the night Tristan had kissed her, hung in the east She felt caught between. When the fire was roaring, Kelsey and Dhanya joined the others around it.

"Are we going to sing songs?" Kelsey asked as everyone sat down.

"We're sharing memories of Tristan," Will answered quietly, "talking about the kind of person he was and the things he did."

"That's kind of depressing, isn't it?" Kelsey said, then her face brightened as she looked toward the dunes "Oh, hello!" Everyone turned to follow her gaze. Guy was walking toward them.

"I got here as soon as I could," he said when he was close.

"Who invited you?" Will demanded.

"I did." Ivy replied.

Guy kept his eyes on her. "I brought you some flowers."

He held a bouquet wrapped in florist paper behind him, as if uncertain about offering it. Ivy smiled and stood up, holding out her hands. "Oh!' She looked from the roses to Guy, tears stinging her eyes. "They're lavender."

"I did the wrong thing," Guy said, quickly pulling them away. Ivy reached for the flowers, her hands catching and holding his.

"No! No, they're perfect." She looked into his eyes. "How did you know that—that I love lavender roses?"

He shrugged. "They just seemed right for you."

"They're beautiful. Thank you," Ivy said, cradling the flowers in her arms.

"My parents gave me lavender roses for my sixteenth birthday," Dhanya interjected. "I get a different color each year. And always the number of years I am."

"Before Princess Dhanya tells us the details of each of her very special birthday celebrations," Kelsey said, "grab a soda, Guy. Let's get this wake going."

Ivy made room on her blanket. Guy sat next to her, across from Will and Beth.

Will spoke about Tristan as a top rated swimmer and Ivy recalled the day Suzanne and Beth had dragged her to her first school meet to watch him compete. "Can I look at the pictures you brought?" Dhanya asked.

Beth passed the album, and Dhanya started turning pages. "Hey, who's this gorgeous guy?" She carried the book over to Ivy, placing it on her lap and squeezing onto the blanket next to her. "Gregory."

Ivy heard Beth draw in her breath. Will dropped his head and stared at the fire.

"The murderer? Let me see," Kelsey said, scooting sideways and leaning over them. "He doesn't look like a murderer."

"What does a murderer look like?" Beth replied sharply. "How can anyone tell?"

"For one thing," Kelsey said, "there should be cruelty in either his eyes or his mouth. I can't see them in these little pictures."

"Ivy, that's you—in that cheesy dress!" Dhanya exclaimed. "Tell me you didn't choose it."

"I didn't. This is Tristan," Ivy said, pointing to a photo of a table of wedding guests, which Tristan happened to be passing. Guy leaned closer to study the picture, but she saw no flicker of recognition on his face.

"
The
Tristan?" Dhanya asked. "But he's just a waiter!"

Ivy laughed and told them about her mother's wedding and Tristan's short-lived catering career. "I think it was love at first sight for my little brother, if not for me."

Guy pointed to her brother in another photo. "Philip. I recognize him." Ivy's heart skipped a beat. Then she remembered they had met at the hospital.

"He's a cute kid." Kelsey said, returning to her own blanket and flopping back to stare up at the darkening sky. Dhanya turned the page. "Beth, your hair's different. I like it better now."

Dhanya was looking at the picture of Beth, Tristan, and Ella. "I gave Ella to Tristan," Ivy explained to Guy. "I had to give her up and Tristan answered my ad. He knew nothing about cats, but he assured me he'd take good care of her—said he'd 'wash' and feed her." Guy smiled.

 "That was just a ploy to see you."

"Yes. But he soon got attached to her," Ivy replied.

"Where's Ella now?" Guy asked.

"Gregory hanged her," Beth said.

Dhanya gasped. Kelsey let out a low whistle. Will threw a stick in the fire.

"Any which way he could get you." Guy remarked.

"Yes, if it hadn't been for Will, Gregory would have succeeded. Will risked his life for me. He saved me." Will stared into the flames. Rising to her feet, Ivy went to him. Kneeling close, she put her arms around him. For a minute, he rested back against her, laying his hand over hers.

When Ivy looked up, Guy had shut the album and was watching them from across the bonfire. Dhanya sniffled loudly.

Kelsey sat up. "Dhanya, you're crying for a cat and a guy you don't even know."

"I know Ivy and Will," Dhanya replied.

"If somebody doesn't get cheerful around here," Kelsey said, "I'm leaving." No one said anything cheerful. "All right, boys and girls, I'm out of here. You coming, Dhanya?"

Dhanya shook her head no. "I'll go with you," Beth said, standing up. Will and Ivy looked at her surprised. "It's over. Tristan is gone." Beth told them, tossing her bouquet of salvia into the fire.

It flared, flames leaping skyward :far a moment, then dropped back. A shower off sparks, darkening to cinders, made Ivy think of falling stars.

"Rest in peace, Tristan," Will said softly.