“I was just telling your uncle here about your plot to break into the church after you locked yourself out of the house.”
Ivy shot Reese a playful glare.
Uncle Vee let out a quiet laugh. “I didn’t know you’d taken up burglarizing since I’d seen you last.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Yeah, she was creeping around the churchyard like a ninja, except she was wearing a white shirt. Stuck out like a sore thumb.”
Ivy shook her head at their ribbing and walked to where her uncle stirred the soup. “Grandma’s recipe?”
Uncle Vee nodded.
“The garden and yard are beautiful.” She didn’t want to embarrass him, but he needed to know how much it meant to her.
A slow smile curved his mouth, deepening the sun-weathered creases around his liquid-brown eyes. “Old habits die hard. Any time I was overseeing the church landscaping, I could hear her in my head. Fussing about the grass grown too long or the weevils taking over the garden. It bothered her to no end when she wasn’t healthy enough to get out there to tend things herself.” He shrugged. “I guess everybody mourns in their own way. Taking care of her place is mine.”
Babette’s words echoed in Ivy’s head. The ridiculous bit about people gossiping that he was her biological father. As he worked in the kitchen, Ivy studied his profile, searching for a shadow of resemblance in the slope of his nose and the shape of his jawline.
They were a pair of opposites. He was tall and broad; she had always been the shortest in her class. While her facial features were curving and pixie-like, his were bold and angular. Their ordinary brown eyes their only commonality.
Ivy shook her head, interrupted by the sound of Reese chopping lettuce with more force than the job warranted.
“Is there anything I can do?”
Reese paused his chopping and cleared his throat. “No, I think we’re about finished. So, how did things go today? Did you find anything new?”
“Nothing besides a stray dog who’s taken up residence in the garage. Scrawny. Super skittish.”
“You know, I thought I saw a dog the last time I came to mow, but he disappeared when I pulled up.” Uncle Vee came to the table with a stack of bowls. “Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“Grandma wrote me a letter before she died. There was a journal she wanted me to have, but it seems to be missing.”
“Oh?” He set the bowls on the table in slow motion. The air seemed to go from the room as her uncle eyed her. “Did she . . . did she say what the journal was about?”
She shrugged. “I think it has something to do with my early days. Before my adoption.”
The creases between his brows deepened and his gaze shot to the floor. He went to the refrigerator and pushed around the paltry contents.
“Do you know the journal she was talking about? Or where it might be?”
He closed the refrigerator and turned. His every movement measured, like the second hand of time had slowed. He shook his head. “You should let the past go, Ivy. I’m not sure what it is she wanted you to know, but you can’t live life looking backward. The past is just information. Your choices today make you who you are.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
OCTOBER 5, 1994
The smell of bacon hung in the air in Pearl’s tidy kitchen, but the savory scent turned Harvey’s stomach. Or was it the way his arms were empty, while across from him, Pearl fawned over Ivy? The perfect picture of grandmother and child. He was just the homeless guy at the table trying not to have a panic attack. He ripped his gaze away from them and stared out the kitchen window, pretending he could feel the breeze on his face. Open air.
“Harvey?”
He jerked to attention. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Are you okay? I have a table and chairs around back. A nice little sitting area if you’d prefer to sit outside.”
“That’s okay.” It was eerie, the way she seemed to read him.
Pearl grinned at Ivy. “Goodness, she is such a gem. I got her a few things while I was out last night.” She shot him a sheepish look. “I never had a girl to shop for. I couldn’t resist.”
He gripped the chair to keep himself from taking Ivy from her arms. Ivy was his. He was the one who was supposed to take care of her. To buy her things.
“Oh, Harvey. I wasn’t thinking. I should probably let you hold her if you’d like. I’ll have her all day.”
Harvey stood and reached. “Please . . .” He hated how desperate the barely managed whisper came off his lips.
As she leaned to transfer Ivy to him, she lifted her chin to meet his eyes. “It will be okay. I promise to take good care of her.”
He leaned away, Ivy now securely cradled in his arms. She poked the tip of her tongue in and out of her rosebud lips as if discovering it for the first time. Harvey gained a solid breath.
Pearl shuffled back into the kitchen, weighed down by her purchases. “I got a few cute outfits and the same brand of diapers and formula you had for her in your bag yesterday. I thought it’d be easier for you if you didn’t have to worry about packing her bag every morning.”
Something hot and unkind twisted in his gut, but he managed to say the appropriate thing for once. “Thank you.”
“Oh, and before you head out, I got her a bassinet to nap in. Would you mind putting it together?”
Harvey followed her into what must have been Pearl’s room. Pieces of the bassinet littered the carpet in the tidy room.
Pearl reached for Ivy. “I tried to get it together, but I think Little Miss would be safer if you took a crack at it.”
He knelt in front of the scattered pieces. The frilly place where Ivy would sleep took shape while he worked. The hot thing in his middle twisted tighter until pinpricks stung the backs of his eyes. Pearl offered her clothes, piles of diapers, a pristine white bassinet, a real house.
What did he offer? Just enough formula and diapers to get through each day? He closed his eyes against the pain of reality. Was he selfish to insist on keeping her?
Pearl was a sweet old lady with a nice house, but she didn’t need Ivy like she needed oxygen. To her, she was just another cute baby.
He had the few pieces together in less than ten minutes and positioned the bassinet by the east-facing window so the light spilled in through the filmy curtains.
Pearl rocked Ivy in her front room. Ivy’s eyes drooped, almost asleep. “I don’t know why I brought the bassinet home. As if I’m going to put her down once she falls asleep.” Pearl beamed up at him. “Any last instructions, boss? It’s obvious you know what you’re doing with her.”
An unfamiliar sensation swept through him, causing him to stand a bit straighter. But at the thought of walking out the door without Ivy against him, the feeling shrank into a twisted knot. “Don’t leave her to cry. Ever. Don’t ever, ever leave her wondering if anyone is coming, or if there is anyone there to hear her. I want her to always know someone will come for her if she needs them.”
Pearl’s pale blue eyes locked focus with his. She swallowed. “Of course. Of course, Harvey. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He turned and his heart stretched the distance between them, longing to turn around and take Ivy out of there. This was only a season. He would work, save his money, and then he and Ivy could get away. Disappear. And then they’d never have to be separated. He reached for the doorknob and looked back.