“I know, buddy. I know. She will soon enough, and then she’ll scoop you into her arms and hold you tight.”
“Pwomise?”
“Yes. You’re both going to be fine. Now I need to know something very important. Do you hurt anywhere besides the boo-boo on your lip?”
The boy shook his head, and then arched his back against his car seat. “Get me out, pwease. I wanna see Mommy.”
“I know. But I need to leave you in your car seat until the ambulance gets here. It should only be a few minutes. Then those nice people will take care of you. Don’t be afraid. They only want to help.”
The boy needed to know that. Harvey had hated those doctors and nurses in the hospital. They’d been the ones he’d pinned the blame on for disrupting his life for years until he was old enough to know better.
“There will be bright lights and loud sirens to tell you they’re coming. They’ll strap your mommy to a little bed, but it’s just to keep her safe and secure while they drive her to the doctor. You’ll go with her.”
Big tears welled in his eyes. “I don’t wanna shot.”
Harvey stifled his chuckle and patted his knee. “There, there. Don’t cry. I don’t think you’ll need a shot.”
Distant red lights strobed over the eerily still highway.
“Carter, help is coming. I need to go now.”
The boy squeezed his bear. “Okay. Bye, Tall Man.”
And as he always did, Harvey left the scene like a ghost who’d never been there before anyone had the presence of mind to ask questions. An apparition. A placeholder until the real rescuers arrived.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
PRESENT DAY
Ivy rolled out of bed feeling like sandbags clung to her frame. Seth. The missing journal. The questions she was afraid to ask. The awkward dance around the donuts with Reese.
She hated this discordant rhythm to their friendship. Like one of them waltzed while the other did a frenetic cha-cha.
Ivy walked outside, attempting to clear her head and check on ghost-dog. She smiled at the empty bowl. She refilled it with kibble. “Hey, buddy. If you’re in there, it’s me, Ivy. Let’s be friends, okay?”
She returned to the house and showered and got ready for the day. Still her mind felt like clogged pipes. She grabbed her phone and scrolled through her mood-booster playlist. Dance therapy was one of her students’ favorite ways to decompress. Maybe it was worth a try. Besides, there was no one there to witness her looking like a fool. She grinned and bit her lip, thumb hovering over “Shake It Off,” by Taylor Swift. She shook her head, laughing at the memory attached to that song.
Sick to death of the old-time gospel radio Grandma had been playing all summer, Ivy had snuck and changed the station when she left the room. “Shake It Off” had just come on the radio when Grandma cleared her throat behind Ivy. She turned, ready for her disapproval when Grandma said, “Hmph. I like the sound of that girl. She’s got spunk.”
Ivy clicked play. “This one is for you, Grandma.”
She bounced on her toes, finding the beat. Letting her arms hang loose at her sides, completely focused on releasing the tension in her shoulders. When the chorus swelled, she cut loose. Ad-libbed spins and side-to-side twists. Gyrations of her own creation. It wasn’t pretty, but it felt so good. Free. A reprieve from the anxiety and pain she’d tried to keep tamped down.
Ivy grabbed her bottled water off the side table like it was a microphone and lip-synched the lyrics.
A tap sounded on the front window. Ivy dropped the water bottle and spun toward the window with a yelp.
Reese stood on the other side of the glass, arms crossed over his chest with a smirk on his face.
She buried her face in her hands with a groan and slunk out of view until the song ended. At least this would overshadow her weird behavior last night.
“Hey,” his slightly muffled voice came through the door, “are you going to let me in?”
“Do I have to?”
“I’ve known you since you were five. This isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed your . . . erm . . . stellar dance moves. Besides, I brought coffee.”
She opened the door a crack. “Fine. But you aren’t allowed to make fun of me.”
“Agreed.”
She opened the door to let him in, and he picked up two coffees from the little table by the door. He handed one to her. “Careful, Taylor, it’s hot.”
“Reese . . .”
“Okay, okay.” He snickered. “I’m all business from here on out.”
Taking separate rooms, they picked through the house, collecting the items Grandma had listed to go to Abiding Love Ranch, a women’s shelter where women healed from abusive relationships.
Uncle Vee’s landscaping team buzzed in the background while Ivy filled the boxes with the majority of Grandma’s small kitchen appliances. Every now and then she’d catch the sound of Reese humming “Shake It Off” under his breath.
She really needed to get this job done and get out of Triune. It had gotten harder being around him over the years. Secretly longing for their relationship to be closer, more than it was.
Ivy rubbed her hands over her face, banishing her wayward thoughts. The dust particles on her hands sent her into a sneezing fit.
“Bless you.”
Ivy started at his voice behind her. “Ha, thanks. Didn’t know you were there.”
“Yeah, you were pretty deep in thought.”
Thank goodness the guy couldn’t read minds.
Reese placed a waffle iron in the box. “I’ve been thinking about this whole ‘Where did Ivy come from’ mystery.”
She lifted a brow as she placed the toaster next to the waffle iron. “Oh yeah?”
“You have to have been born in Tennessee.”
Ivy froze. “What? Why? What did you find?”
His lips twitched. “Nothing, but you’re the only ten I see.”
She narrowed her eyes, wadded the dustrag hanging from her pocket, and chucked it at his head. He ducked.
“You really are awful.”
He snorted and wrestled his expression into feigned penitence. “Sorry. Too far.”
She smirked. “Please tell me you don’t use that awful pickup line on the girls you date. I mean, do they actually go for stuff like that? Or is this nonsense reserved just to torment me?”
He flashed a full grin. “Just for you. You know I don’t date.”
“I’ve never understood why.”
He wrapped the blender glass in newsprint. “I guess I got a little hung up on this one girl years ago. I tried seeing other people, but when I was with them, I was always thinking about her. Problem is, she doesn’t see me like that.”
A sputtering laugh burst from her lips. “Yeah, right. Like that’s ever been an issue for you.” Since fifth grade there had always been a girl or two making goo-goo eyes at him and passing him notes.
He inspected the wrapped blender glass and shrugged. “You’d be surprised, Rosie-girl.”
Ivy propped her hands on her hips, ignoring the prick to her heart. “So who is this girl? Does she know? Do I know her?”
He leaned his hip into the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nope. She hasn’t a clue. In fact, if I told her how I felt about her right now, I have a strong suspicion she’d laugh in my face.”