The chair in the corner with a ragged bear caught his attention instead. Then his gaze roamed over the photograph in a bronze frame. It was of a young man, probably five or six years his junior, trim and proper in his military uniform. A folded flag sat beside it.
Harvey swallowed. He wasn’t supposed to be in here. In this room. In this house. It should be this young man, his wife, and Pearl’s grandchild stopping in for a visit. But instead, she was left with society’s reject and a baby who didn’t belong to either of them.
He scooped up the clothes and slunk out of the room before Pearl realized where he’d stumbled—in a place he had no business being, wearing clothes he had no right to possess. He closed the door softly behind.
Pearl rounded the corner, babbling with Ivy. When Pearl caught him closing the door, the color drained from her face. He dropped the clothes and rushed forward to scoop Ivy into his arms.
She placed her arm against the wall to brace herself. “I wasn’t going to drop her, Harvey. I . . . you startled me, is all.”
“That bad, huh?” He glanced down at his attire.
“No. You reminded me of my—you look really nice. The plaid shirt suits you. I had a feeling it would. I don’t know why, but I’ve always thought you seemed like a plaid kind of person. Here, let’s go out in the living room where I can take a gander at this new version of you.” She shuffled over and retrieved the clothes he’d dropped.
He carried Ivy to the living room and laid her down on the play mat with pink butterflies and flowers dangling over her that Pearl had bought. Harvey straightened. “I had a shirt like this a long, long time ago.”
A strange look crossed her face, but then she shook her head as though dismissing whatever notion passed through her head.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
PRESENT DAY
Ivy rubbed her bleary eyes in front of the bathroom sink, desperate to rid herself of the images printed on the back side of her eyelids. Her sleep had been plagued by nightmares of her parents taking a crying child out of the arms of the haunted young woman from the scrapbook. But those were only dreams. Weren’t they?
With shaking hands, Ivy picked up her phone and dialed.
Was it hereditary, winding up in abusive relationships? She’d been raised by what was quite possibly the strongest married couple on Planet Earth. It stood to reason Ivy would’ve learned something about choosing a mate from her adoptive parents. And yet, if the woman from the picture really was her birth mother, she’d ended up far more like a person she’d never even met.
“Hello, Ivy.” Her dad’s voice came through the line, rich and smooth.
“Dad, I need to ask you a question. And I need the truth. Who is Rose? Why is her name my middle name?”
“Ivy, slow down.”
“My birth mother. Did you know her?”
“Ivy . . .”
“How did I get my name?” Ivy gripped the phone so tight her knuckles ached.
“From someone who loved you very much. We wanted to honor that love when we adopted you.”
“Who?”
A heavy sigh came through the line. “I can’t reveal that information. I wish I could say more but—”
“Not even for me? You’re making some stranger’s need for confidentiality more important than what I need? Why is keeping this from me such a big deal?” She winced, dreading the impact of her next words. “Did you and Mom take Grandma’s journal?”
“I don’t know anything about a journal, sweetheart.” The seconds of silence throbbed in her ears. “As to why I won’t reveal the secret of another, I’m allowing space for God to work.”
“Space for God to work on what? I’m twenty-four years old. Isn’t that time enough?”
Ivy ended the call and wrapped her arms around her middle.
Her parents and Grandma had been in league to protect somebody. But who? Why?
Ivy rocked in the porch swing, her mind flipping through memories. Through the bits and pieces she’d collected over her lifetime. But no matter how she twisted and turned the pieces, she couldn’t make a cohesive picture.
Movement in her peripheral view snagged her attention. The ghost-dog stood outside the garage sniffing at the empty dish. She hurried inside for some deli meat.
He’d come a little closer to her yesterday evening. And he hadn’t run at the sight of her.
She walked slowly toward him, crooning in low tones. “Hey there, buddy. It’s your friend, Ivy. We’re friends, right?”
The dog’s tail dropped between his legs, and he cowered. But his nose wiggled at the meat she offered. It was the first time she’d gotten an up-close look at him. One blue eye, one brown. Floppy ears with black specks.
“You’re pretty cute. You know that?”
She knelt, making herself smaller. Holding out the turkey, she clucked her tongue, inviting him forward. He crept closer. Ivy placed the meat on the ground in front of her. Hunger drove him, but it was obvious the pup waited for the worst. For the moment the hand that fed him would rise to strike him as well.
“What happened to you, huh? Did someone hurt you?”
He crept closer, belly almost to the ground. Ivy sat in the grass.
“That’s it. You’ve almost made it.” Gravel crunched in the driveway. The dog’s head popped up high, and he scurried for the hole in the garage and disappeared. Ivy sighed and put the abandoned meat in the food bowl. “It’s okay. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Ivy turned toward the house.
Reese strolled up the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. “Hey you, whatcha doin’?”
She lifted a corner of her mouth. “I’m supposed to be working on this house, but I got a little distracted.”
He shielded his eyes against the afternoon sun. “Do you want to get out of here for a little bit? Go for a drive?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind a change of scenery.”
At the end of the drive, Reese stopped the truck before pulling onto the main road. He tapped out a staccato beat on the steering wheel even though the only sound coming from the radio was the rasp of static. He sawed one corner of his bottom lip. She leaned forward and clicked off the radio.
“What’s up?” she asked.
He gave her a tight smile. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to show you. One of my first big projects now that I’m out on my own. I’d like to know what you think.”
“Sure thing, friend. Let’s do it.”
He gave a tight nod, his lips pressed in a line. “Friends. Is that the right word for us?”
She flinched.
Reese shook his head. “That didn’t come out like I meant it. Sometimes I just wish you . . .” He released a breathy, humorless laugh. “Never mind.”
Flooded by the need to explain why she’d distanced herself, words spilled from her. “I’m so sorry, Reese. I know I’ve been weird lately. It’s complicated.” She shook her head. “Actually, it’s not. I just didn’t want you to see the way I lost myself. I caged myself in a really terrible relationship and couldn’t find my way out. I was about two steps from ending up at a place like Abiding Love. I never should’ve shut you out.”