Around the side of the church next to the woods, he knelt by a cluster of bushes. They were visible from the roof but hidden from the casual passerby. Harvey placed a hand on the ground beneath the arc of branches. Dry.
This was wrong, hiding her unattended. Harvey rubbed his face. He could check her from above as he worked. If he hurried, he’d be up there no more than ten minutes. She should stay asleep for a good thirty minutes, as long as he didn’t wake her when he lifted her out of the wrap.
He groaned. There was nothing else for it. He had to. Pulling aside the wrap, he slipped her out in a smooth movement, and laid her on the blanket in the bed of leaves. She squirmed a moment and then settled. Unless someone walked close, she was perfectly concealed.
Harvey returned to the ladder and eyed Pearl’s house. It was uncharacteristically still. The garage was closed. She must have gone out on an errand.
He shinnied up the ladder. From above, he checked on Ivy. All was quiet. He threw down the stray branches on the side of the church opposite Ivy. So far the shingles appeared intact and undisturbed. The pastor would be pleased no repairs were in order.
A little more picking up, and he could cross this assignment off his list. Though the task was quick, tension built in his chest and tightened the longer he worked. Ivy’s absent warmth was like a gaping hole in his person.
Scrambling over the high point of the roof, using his hands to keep himself balanced, he fumbled with his footing as he straddled the peak. Bracing against the pitch, he turned, eyes eager for the purple blanket.
His heart slammed in his chest. An invisible force squeezed the air from his lungs as his world went sideways. His nails scraped the shingles as he grasped for something to keep him steady. Though his body was fixed and stable, he experienced the sensation of falling.
This couldn’t be happening.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
OCTOBER 4, 1994
Pearl held a bit of heaven wrapped in a purple blanket. She started at the scrabbling sound from above. Good heavens. She should have thought before she dashed out of the church and scooped the baby from beneath the bushes. She’d almost made Harvey fall off the roof.
So this was his secret. A baby. Now his odd build—scarecrow with plump middle—and the stiff way he always squatted with chest erect made sense. But why hide her? She stood and turned as he climbed over the ridge and scooted toward the ladder.
Harvey came toward her with his face devoid of color, eyes full of something that wrenched her heart. He froze five paces away.
“Harvey, is this your child?”
He started to nod, but then halfway through he jerked his head to the side. He closed his eyes and shook his head. His Adam’s apple dipped and rose. He took another step forward, arms lifted toward the baby, but then he stopped and let them fall to his side.
“Where’s her mother?”
He trembled from head to toe. “My sister’s. She . . . uh . . . she wasn’t able to take care of her.”
Pastor Thomas wouldn’t begrudge him for caring for a baby. Did he think he’d be fired for having her with him? Was that why he was so afraid?
“Go on back to work so you don’t lose your job. I’m taking her home. When you’re done, we can sit down and talk.” She willed her voice to stay no-nonsense, but the tortured way the man looked at her made a lump rise in her throat.
He remained fixed to the spot.
“I’ll take good care of her. I promise.” She walked past him to her house.
“Miss Pearl.” His voice was a mere breath of air.
She turned to face him. He held out his bag in front of him, his hands white-knuckled on the strap.
“She’ll want a bottle in about ten minutes. Three ounces.”
Pearl couldn’t help but smile as she slipped her arm through the strap. “Of course.”
He looked like an abandoned child. It took everything in her not to bring him back to her house to mother him too.
The baby’s dark eyes were now open. Newborns had such an enchanting way about them. Perhaps it was their newness. Fresh from God’s hands, blissfully unaware of the harsh realities of life.
Once inside the house, she marveled over the child. She smelled of baby shampoo and powder. It was obvious he took great pains to ensure she was well cared for. Precisely ten minutes after leaving Harvey, she started fussing to be fed.
Pearl glanced out the window at him. Bless his heart. She’d thought she’d seen him undone all the times he’d darted off. But it didn’t compare to how he behaved now. Like a boat unmoored, listing after a storm.
Her ache for him pulsed in her chest. Why was he so upset? He was caring for his sister’s child. Not some dark secret. No one would fault him for it. There had to be a way to build his trust so she could help the dear, fragile man, but how?
A tall cedar growing in the woods just off the highway bore twenty-six tally marks. Twenty-six marks for the twenty-six days that new life had beat in Harvey’s heart. He had felt things. Had a reason for being. The accident when he was five ripped hope out of his life, but it was nothing compared to what he felt as Pearl took Ivy from him.
Pearl was a breath away from figuring everything out. She’d never see him as an adequate parent substitute, even if she continued to believe his lie. He wandered, picking up limbs on autopilot. Pearl told him to work so he wouldn’t lose his job. But she didn’t know that Ivy was the reason for this torture. If he lost her, he was unfettered from these awkward circumstances. But strangely, his old life now felt like shackles. Shackles he didn’t want to wear anymore.
He stopped. His chest ached from his panting breaths. Oxygen. He needed oxygen. Harvey leaned over and propped his hands on his knees, hating the empty space on his front where Ivy belonged.
Somehow he finished his work, then consulted with Pastor Thomas. He must have made intelligible conversation while he held a full trash bag to disguise his suddenly flat middle.
Harvey shuffled down Pearl’s long sidewalk feeling like he was volunteering for his own execution.
The path wasn’t long enough for him to find a way to say goodbye to his daughter. Because even if he didn’t have a piece of paper saying so, that was who she was. His.
He reached to press the doorbell, but the door popped open before his finger made contact.
Pearl motioned him inside. “Come in, Harvey. Let’s talk.”
Where was Ivy? Gone? This woman had figured out the truth and hadn’t even let him say goodbye. His voice croaked out like a clamp was fastened onto his vocal cords. “Where is she? Tell me where she is. Where’s Ivy?”
“Ivy? What a beautiful name.”
He ground his teeth. “Where is she?”
“Calm down. She’s sleeping in my room. She’s safe.” Her forehead creased. “Why don’t you sit down before you collapse. Can I get you something? Water? A paper bag? Don’t hyperventilate on me.”
He sank into a chair, sucking shallow breaths. She was here. No one had taken her. Yet. “Can I . . . could I . . . I need . . . can I hold . . . ?”
Pearl stepped to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “First you are going to breathe. Then we’re going to talk. You’re going to tell me why you’ve been hiding her, and where her mother is.”