Evercrossed (4 page)

"Oh my God!" Beth screamed. Ivy yanked the wheel hard to the right. One moment she could feel the road under her car, the next, it was gone. Two wheels rose in the air as the car rolled, the world of night and trees turning around her and Beth.

"Beth? Beth?" Dhanya's voice sounded small and far away as the cell phone bounced around the car.

The driver's side slammed into something solid. Steel crumpled inward. Before she could cry out, Ivy's world collapsed into a black hole.

Four

FOR A MOMENT, IVY WAS AWARE OF NOTHING BUT darkness. It felt as if all of the night's weight bore down on her, then, unexpectedly, the pressure eased.

"Beth? Beth, are you okay?" Her friend's eyes fluttered open. "Beth. Thank God," Ivy said with relief. "We've got to get out of this car. My side is smashed in. We'll have to use yours, okay?" Beth gazed at her wordlessly. "You with me?" Ivy asked, uncertainly. Beth continued to stare at Ivy. "I'll help you," Ivy said, trying to pull herself up, but she couldn't move. "On second thought, you may need to help me. I'm caught somehow."

Beth looked at Ivy as if she couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. "What is it?" Ivy asked. Beth began to shake. "Beth? Answer me."

But it was as if her friend couldn't hear or understand what she was saying.

"Answer me! Beth, please!"

Beth opened her mouth. She screamed and screamed.

"It's okay, it's okay," Ivy told her, trying to calm her. But Beth started to sob.

"We're going to be okay. Oh, angels, help. Tristan, help. Tristan, we need you," Ivy called out.

At last she was free of the thing that restrained her. "All right, now." She touched Beth, then pulled back, surprised. She couldn't feel Beth's shoulder. She reached out again and gazed in disbelief as her own hand passed through her friend's.

Then Ivy began to understand why Beth had screamed, why she was sobbing.

Free of her body, Ivy was light, as weightless as a moonbeam and floating steadily upward. Looking down, she saw her body in the mangled car, the airbag deployed, and the metal frame of the windshield bent inward. She saw her head against the crushed frame, blood darkening it.

The only pain Ivy felt was an intense yearning for those she loved. Below her, a night mist enveloped Beth and the twisted car. Along the narrow strip of road, another car raced away. The land and sea merged in darkness.

The longing to say good bye was all that tethered Ivy to the night below. She spoke the names of those she loved, asking the angels to watch over them: "Philip, Mom, Andrew, Beth, Will, Suzanne... Tristan. Tristan."

"My love."

Ivy held still, suspended within a cathedral of starlight. The old world that turned beneath her grew still, as if time had stopped.

"Tristan?"

"My love."

"Tristan!" Ivy closed her eyes, so that his voice would become stronger in her.

"Can I really hear you? Is it possible? Oh, Tristan, even in death, I want you near me."

"Even in death, my love."

"Always, Tristan."

"Always, Ivy." A gold shimmer enveloped her. "You told me I had to move on," Ivy said, half crying for the loss of him, half laughing with the joy of finding him.

"You said I was meant to love someone else, but I couldn't."

"Nor could I."

"Every day, every hour, I have held you close in my heart."

"As I held you," he said.

"Don't leave me, Tristan," she begged. "Please don't leave again." She felt his warmth wrap around her. "I need you."

"I'll always be with you, Ivy."

She felt his kiss on her lips. "Don't let go!"

"I promise you, Ivy, I'll always be with you," he said again. His love reached into every part of her, his pure heat burning within her. Suddenly, she felt her heart beating—beating wildly, like a caged bird, against her ribs.

Five

"WHAT ELSE DO YOU REMEMBER?" THE WOMAN police officer asked.

Ivy gazed out the window of the hospital room at the pale yellow clouds of early morning. "That's it. The car—the vehicle," she corrected herself, since that was what they were calling it, "came from the other direction straight at us. Braking wouldn't help. He was going too fast. I had to avoid him."

"Him?"

"Or her. Or them. Head on like that, and in the dark, all I could see was the headlights." She remembered looking down on a vehicle and assuming it was a car—but the perspective of someone floating above her car and the road on which the accident occurred wouldn't make sense to the police. It barely made sense to Ivy—she knew rather than understood what had happened.

The moment Ivy had become conscious again, her spirit had felt extraordinarily light, while her body had seemed a heavy and clumsy thing to her. She had clung to the memory of being with Tristan, afraid it would slip through the grasp of her earthbound fingers.

"Do you remember anything about the sound of the vehicle?" the police officer asked.

Jolted out of her thoughts, Ivy stared at the woman blankly until she repeated her question.

"No," Ivy said. "Beth was screaming, telling me to watch out. That's all I remember hearing."

They had already gone over why she and Beth were driving on that road. Ivy knew that both of them had been given toxicology tests.

At that point, the nurse entered her room. Andy's genial face was the first Ivy remembered seeing after arriving at Cape Cod Hospital six hours ago. She couldn't recall anything about the ER, but had been told that Beth, Will, and Aunt Cindy had taken turns staying with her and sleeping on the waiting room sofas, and that her mother was on the way.

"Ivy's had a tough night," he began.

"I'm done," the policewoman said, standing up. "If more questions arise, I'll be in touch. Stay safe."

Andy checked the record of Ivy's vitals signs on the room's computer, and shook his head. "Our own miracle girl! I like starting the work week with a miracle." The nurse was tanned, sandy haired, in his early forties, Ivy guessed. The lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Your numbers are good. How are you feeling?"

"Great."

"You wouldn't fake it now, would you?"

"No. Well . . . maybe a little," she admitted. "Is this all I get for breakfast?"

He lifted the lid and saw that the plate, like the tray, was empty. "I guess you're not faking it. You know, if word gets around, we're going to have religious pilgrim types flocking here, wanting to touch your head. I have no idea how that head wound stopped itself from bleeding, or how, given the EMS description of the amount of blood in your car, your hematocrit could be normal. But it is. The doctor said he's seen a case like yours before, but between you and me"—Andy lowered his voice—"the guy's full of it. He just doesn't like to admit that there are some things he and medicine haven't figured out."

Like angels
, Ivy thought. Had Tristan healed her? Had he saved her?

"You have visitors. Mom and little brother first?" the nurse asked.

"Please."

Andy headed toward the door, then turned back to open a drawer next to Ivy's bed. He set an extra box of tissue on the table top. "You might need this."

"Oh, baby!" her mother said, rushing in with Philip behind her.

Andy was right. A handful of tissues later, Ivy said, "I'm glad you didn't wear your eyeliner, Mom."

"Or lipstick," Philip added. His eyes, green like Ivy's, were now rimmed with red. "Or her cheek stuff. She left it all home."

Maggie and her makeup kit were rarely parted. "I'm sorry I upset you, Mom."

"She even forgot her comb," Philip said. "That's why her hair looks like that."

Maggie patted her head self consciously. "My mind was all on you, baby. But don't worry, I did think to bring you something to wear while you're here."

Uh oh,
thought Ivy.

"Fortunately, the nightgown and robe I gave you last Christmas looked barely worn."

Mostly because they hadn't been. Ivy's friend Suzanne, who was in Europe for the summer, had suggested that Ivy wear the gown and robe combo to the senior prom—or a Halloween party. Of course, it was nothing compared to the bridesmaid dress that Ivy's mother had chosen for her when Maggie and Andrew were married.
Scarlett O'Hara dropped in a bucket of glitter
was what Ivy thought every time she looked at the wedding photos. But it made her smile, because among several informal photos stuffed in the back of the wedding album was a picture of Tristan, in waiter's garb, launching a tray of fresh vegetables over the bridal party.

"Ivy, are you listening?" her mother asked. "Do you want me to help you get this on?"

"I'll wear just the robe," Ivy replied. Like the gown, it was filmy pink and trimmed with lots of feathery stuff.

"See now? It puts color in your lace," her mother said.

Philip played with the feathers for a moment, then unzipped his backpack. "I brought you two things."

"A Yankees cap! Thanks." Ivy put it on. "This is going to make me real popular with the doctors and nurses here among the Red Sox nation."

He held up his second gift, a coin, then dropped it in the palm of her hand. The gold piece, an inch in diameter, had an image of an angel with wings spread, stamped on each side. "It came in the mail."

"Part of a solicitation for a religious charity," her mother explained.

"It's beautiful. Thank you, Philip. I'll keep it right by my bed."

"I forgot—Dad told me to give you a hug. He's in Washington at a conference," Philip added, amusing Ivy by giving her a light hug, the way Andrew would have. Only a few months before, Philip had started calling Andrew "Dad." Her brother was young enough to make that adjustment, especially since he couldn't remember the man who was their father.

"And how is Tarantula Arms?" Ivy asked. "Isn't he going to miss you at camp today?'

"Tomorrow, too," Philip said happily. "We're staying overnight."

"Mom, really, there's no need. I'm fine. Look at me—I'm fine!"

"Well, I'm not," Maggie replied. "And Philip and I have already taken a room at the Seabright."

"Will's taking me kayaking," Philip announced. "Is he?"

"And he's getting us fishing rods."

"Good."

"And he said he saw an awesome kite shop on Route Twenty eight."

Ivy smiled and swallowed hard. Philip loved Will, as he had loved Tristan. If she and Will broke up ... Ivy didn't want to think about it.

"We should let Will visit you now," her mother said. "He's been very upset, Ivy. He saw your car before they towed it. In some ways, I think this was more frightening for him than for you."

"Yes, I can see how it might be," she said. "Would you ask him and Beth to come in?"

"Together?" her mother asked, sounding a little surprised.

"Sure."

As soon as Maggie and Philip left, Beth rushed into the room and threw her arms around Ivy. Then she pulled back. "Am I hurting you?" Ivy hugged her.

"There's nothing to hurt." Will came in quietly behind Beth. Glancing past Beth, Ivy smiled at him.

"I can't believe you're okay," Beth said, gently touching Ivy just above her temple. "In the car, when I looked over at you. . ." She shuddered. "I wish I could get that picture out of my head. I—I don't see how I could have imagined it."

Ivy looked into Beth's eyes, wanting to know what Beth had seen and longing to tell her what she had experienced. Had Beth, who was psychic, sensed something? Ivy wanted Beth to confirm that Tristan's embrace had been more than a dream, but Beth's eyes were clouded with confusion and worry.

"Beth, you look worse than I do," Ivy observed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I don't remember anything from the ER. They checked you over, didn't they?"

Beth nodded. "It's just a minor concussion."

"But a major headache," Will said, speaking at last. "I'm trying to get her to take it easy."

He was standing behind Beth, looking at Ivy over Beth's shoulder. Could he see it in her eyes? Did he guess that, more than ever, she was thinking of Tristan?

Maybe not, Ivy thought, and reached for Will's hand. He reached back, cradling her hand in both of his. Ivy knew Will's hands by heart, long fingered and strong, almost always flecked with paint. She loved his hands.

"You scared the heck out of me!" Will said, his voice shaking.

"Oh, Will, I'm so sorry."

He moved forward and slipped his arms around her, holding her ever so carefully.

"Hey, I'm not breakable. I think I've proven that," she said, holding him tight.

She started to cry, not knowing all of the reasons why. Will wiped away her tears lovingly, as he always had.

"
I'll always be with you
." Tristan had said. He had meant it—she felt his promise as if it were inscribed on her heart. But had Tristan healed her only to send her with his blessing back to Will? Ivy reached for the tissue box. "Nurse Andy thinks of everything. Help yourselves."

"Don't mind if I do," Beth replied, wiping her cheeks. She and Ivy blew their noses and honked at the same time, which made all three laugh out loud. "I guess your mother brought the robe." They laughed again.

A crisp knock was followed by Andy poking his head through the partially closed door of the hospital room.

"Okay, wonder girl," he said, pushing a wheelchair into the room. "I'm sending home your fans. You're wanted in CT world." He patted the chair.

Ivy hugged Beth and Will once more. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"I'll be back this after—"

"I'll probably be asleep," Ivy interrupted Will. "After you've had some rest, if you want to do me a big favor, entertain Philip."

"If that's what you want," Will replied, looking a little hurt.

"Thank you, Will."

When they had left, Ivy turned to Andy, who was pointing to the wheelchair. "I prefer to walk."

"Sorry, it's against the rules."

"But I feel great!" she insisted. "I could walk and bike for miles."

"Then if no one is looking, I'll let you do wheelies."

Ivy laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Let's roll."