Evercrossed (5 page)

Six

I WILL ALWAYS BE WITH YOU, IVY...  ALWAYS WITH you… I will always
—

"Be with you in a minute," Ivy heard a nurse calling to a patient. She quickly opened her eyes, read the time on the hospital clock—4:12 p.m.— then dropped her head in her hands. It was happening again: For months after Tristan had died, each time Ivy awoke from a happy dream of him, she ached as if she was losing him for the first time.

Just now, she had been dreaming. Ivy knew that. But not last night, she thought.

Last night had been different—it had felt real. "Hey, Wonder Girl!" The door of Ivy's room banged back. "That's what they're calling you," Kelsey said, entering the room, followed by Dhanya, who was carrying a shopping bag.

"Hi, Ivy." Dhanya's voice was soft and worried sounding.

"Ohmygod!" Kelsey exclaimed when she saw Ivy's pink robe flung across the wheelchair next to her bed.

"It was a gift from my mother,' Ivy replied.

Kelsey held it up and Dhanya's look of concern melted into a suppressed giggle.

Ivy grinned. "There's a matching gown in the closet," she said, swinging her feet over the side of the bed.

"I'll get it," Dhanya offered quickly.

"It feels good to walk," Ivy told her.

"Oh, Ivy, I'm so sorry! I should never have called Beth for a ride. I'm responsible for what happened to you. I feel so bad. You could have been killed. It's my fault. If I hadn't—"

"Wait a minute, listen to me," Ivy interrupted Dhanya. "You were right to call Beth. You and Kelsey"—she paused, forcing Kelsey to meet her eyes and acknowledge she had a major part in this —"are responsible for drinking and getting drunk. But not the accident. You didn't cause the accident. Okay?"

Dhanya nodded, a large tear rolling down her cheek.

"Dhanya, I wish you'd save that for tonight," Kelsey said. "Aunt Cindy put Dhanya and me on probation," Kelsey explained to Ivy, "and scheduled a parent conference on Skype."

She opened the closet, then whistled. "Dhanya, this outdoes your Disney Princess gowns." Dhanya blushed.

"You've seen the Disney bridal gowns, haven't you, Ivy?" Kelsey asked. "Dhanya doesn't have a boyfriend, but she keeps trying to decide which dress she's going to wear when she gets married."

"Back off, Kelsey," Dhanya said quietly.

Kelsey pulled the gown off its hanger and held it up. "Want to try this on?" she teased her friend.

"No," Dhanya replied crisply. "Why don't you?"

Kelsey pulled off her T-shirt and dropped her shorts—she was wearing her bikini underneath— then slipped the nightgown over her head. Built like Serena Williams, she looked both awesome and funny.

"Let's go to the solarium," Kelsey said. "Put on the robe and we can pretend we're twins."

"Or wear this one," Dhanya said, opening her shopping bag and pulling out Ivy's light green robe.

"Thank you," Ivy replied gratefully, slipping her arms through its sleeves.

Kelsey dug in the pocket of the shorts she had just taken off and retrieved her cell phone. "I'm ready."

Ivy sat in the chair as Dhanya pushed and Kelsey walked beside it wearing her bikini and the filmy gown, waving to people in their rooms, then waving at the staff gathered around the nurses' station as if she was the queen of a homecoming parade. Ivy couldn't help but laugh.

The solarium, past double doors at the end of the hall, was a quiet oasis away from hospital chatter and beeping machinery. Filled with sunlight rather than the cold fluorescence of the medical areas, its wicker chairs, ferns, and pots of red geraniums made Ivy feel as if she was sitting on someone's porch.

"We've got the place to ourselves," Dhanya said. "By the window?"

"Perfect."

Dhanya parked the wheelchair then pulled a small white rocker closer, arranging herself as prettily as a cat. Kelsey stretched out on a curvy wicker lounge and checked her phone.

"So let me fill you in on the guys we've met," Kelsey said to Ivy after a moment of thumb flexing. "Think gorgeous and rich."

"Okay."

"More rich than gorgeous," Dhanya corrected. Kelsey shrugged. "Their cars are gorgeous. Their boats are."

"If they really have those cars and boats, and weren't telling a few lies, like you were," Dhanya replied.

Kelsey shrugged. "So, I exaggerated a little."

"The party was at a fabulous house," Dhanya told Ivy. "So somebody had money." She turned to Kelsey. "But who knows who was who."

Kelsey blew through her lips with disgust. "
I
can tell by talking to them. But you wouldn't talk. You're such a snob, Dhanya! You want money, looks, and class. You've been hanging around with your parents too much." Ivy tried to remember what Beth had told her about Dhanya's parents. Her mother was from a very wealthy Indian family, had come to the U.S. as a graduate student, and fell in love with an American. Her father was ... a lawyer?

"So I have high standards," Dhanya shot back. "If I can have what I want, why should I settle for less?"

She appealed her question to Ivy; Ivy smiled, remaining discreetly quiet, but mentally awarding Dhanya the "point."

"Anyway," Kelsey said, dragging out the word, her eyes shifting from Ivy to the entrance of the solarium, "I know where they all beach now."

"Ivy's not in the market for a boyfriend," Dhanya reminded Kelsey, then turned to see what had distracted her friend.

"I know, but a girl can always look," Kelsey replied, leaning closer to Ivy, hinting not too subtly that Ivy should turn around.

"What if I don't want to?" Ivy baited her.

"Ivy, c'mon! You're not married yet!" Kelsey sat back in the chaise lounge and raised one knee, providing a nice view of her curvy leg. Ivy wondered who this provocative show was for, but still didn't turn around.

"Hey! Don't be shy!" Kelsey called out to the person who had entered the room. "Come on over."

"I was just leaving." The person who held Kelsey's and Dhanya's attention had a deep voice.

"But you just arrived," Kelsey replied, smiling.
Poor
guy,
Ivy thought,
probably looking for some peace and quiet.

"Don't let my outfit scare you off," Kelsey persisted. "It belongs to my roommate." She pointed to Ivy. "If you think this is hot, you ought to see her beach wear!"

"Kelsey!" Ivy spun her chair around, ready to defend herself. But when she looked at the guy, all words slipped away. His intense blue eyes seemed to burn through flirtatious remarks and silly explanations. His gaze was both haunted and disdainful, as if he had experienced and knew something terrible that Ivy and her friends would never understand.

As long as he looked at her, Ivy couldn't look away. His face, shadowed with several days of stubble, was striking rather than handsome. Clean shaven and lit with a smile, it was a face that could break a girl's heart, Ivy thought.

Without saying a word more, he turned his wheelchair and left. Ivy heard Andy's voice in the hall outside the door: "Enough already? Okay, pal."

"I bet that's him," Dhanya half whispered to Kelsey. "The guy they were talking about when we stopped to ask directions to Ivy's room."

"You mean the one they pulled out of the ocean in Chatham?" Kelsey replied.

Dhanya frowned. "I thought he was found unconscious on the sand, close to the water."

"Whatever. Must have been some party, probably wilder than ours," Kelsey observed, and turned to Ivy. "He won't tell them what happened or how he got there. He won't even tell them who he is."

"It's not that he won't, he
can't
," Dhanya corrected Kelsey. "He can't remember anything."

"So he says," Kelsey noted.

"What's wrong with him?" Ivy asked.

"Nothing, as far as I'm concerned," Kelsey said. "He's rude, but I can forgive that—what a face!"

Ivy tried again. "I meant why was he hospitalized? Was it for any reason other than amnesia?"

Kelsey looked to Dhanya for the answer. Dhanya shrugged.

"In any case," Kelsey said, "it's obvious that Chatham is the place to be."

"We have our own beach at the inn," Ivy pointed out.

"Ivy, you need to stop thinking about yourself and consider Beth."

"What?" Ivy asked, taken aback. "You know my cousin—she will come to Chatham only if you and Will come. She needs to find a boyfriend of her own. She's way too attached to you."

Ivy frowned, wondering if there was some truth to that.

Kelsey checked her phone again. "Fat chance!" she said in response to someone's message. "Delete. Delete. Delete.... Ready, Dhanya?"

Dhanya stood up and grasped the handles on Ivy's chair. "I can get myself back," Ivy told her. "I'm going to stay here in the sun for a while."

Dhanya dug in her purse and pulled out a small tube of cocoa butter, handing it to Ivy. "Put it on, close your eyes, and pretend you're at the beach," she said.

Ivy lifted the cap and sniffed. "Mmm. Much better than hospital disinfectant. Thanks."

Kelsey stood up. "I've got to get my shirt and shorts, so I'll drop this gorgeous gown on your bed." She pirouetted and danced out the door.

"Thanks for coming," Ivy called after her. Dhanya hugged Ivy lightly.

"Come home soon," she said, and followed Kelsey out of the solarium.

Ivy rolled her chair to another window, one sheltered by an island of plants. She sat there for a long time, looking out at the trees and buildings surrounding the hospital, thinking about distance. How could she feel as if she'd been kissed by someone who was another world away—and as if she was losing touch with someone close enough to kiss? Memories are a curse, Ivy thought. If she had no memory of Tristan, she would be able to love Will the way he deserved to be loved.

After a while, she wheeled back from the window to return to her room. That was when she saw him: the guy with no memory. He had come back to the solarium and was sitting quietly in the far corner. Turning his head, he met her gaze. The way his glance darted away from her, then back again, and the searching look in his eyes told Ivy that he wasn't faking it. He was haunted by what he couldn't recall.

Ivy paused, her chair about ten feet from his. "Remembering can be as painful as not remembering," she said.

His face darkened. "Can it? How would you know?" In some ways he was right; she couldn't know his pain any more than he could know hers. And there was no point in sharing—he clearly
didn't
want to.

"Have it your way," she said, and left.

Seven

TUESDAY MORNING, IVY WAS RELEASED FROM THE hospital.

"As soon as I get home, I'm mailing you the rest of your summer clothes," her mother said, while they waited for Andy to bring the discharge papers.

"The thing is. Mom, we don't have much bureau or closet space in the cottage. The only thing I really need is a new pair of sneakers."

The ones she had been wearing were blood soaked, as were the clothes she had worn to the hospital. The ER staff had put them in a bag for Ivy, and before discarding them she had looked at them with astonishment. She believed more than ever that Tristan had helped her. How else could she have made it through such injuries?

"Everything you brought to Cape Cod looks the same, sweetie," her mother argued. "I'll take some of those clothes home to free up space for pretty things."

They spent the next ten minutes discussing clothes, going in circles as endless as her mother's love for ruffles. Finally, Ivy's brother rescued her.

"Philip, where have you been?" Maggie asked when he entered the hospital room.

"You told me to wait outside the door while Ivy changed. You never told me to come back in." Ivy laughed.

Philip picked up the Yankees cap he had given Ivy and placed it on her head. "I gave away the angel coin I brought for you. Is that okay?"

"Of course," she said. "Lots of people in the hospital could use an angel."

"I told him he could pray to Tristan." Ivy bit her lip. Philip had never stopped talking about Tristan, believing in him as an angel long before Ivy did; now, his faith in Tristan hit Ivy just as hard as the first time Philip had spoken of him. If she told Philip that she had been with Tristan again, that she had felt Tristan holding her, would Philip—

But no, she didn't want to confuse her little brother. Andy came in with the discharge papers. "Well, young lady," he said, eyes twinkling, "since you are wearing that cap, I have no choice but to politely ask you to leave."

Ivy laughed and thanked him for his help. It was noon by the time she arrived back at the inn. With just a few guests, the work for the day was done, and Kelsey and Dhanya were wearing their bikinis. Dhanya threw her towel on the swing and rubbed sunscreen on her legs. Beth, in shorts and a halter top, sat on the cottage steps.

"We're going to Chatham," Kelsey said, shaking her keys.

"Lighthouse Beach?" Ivy asked. "Even better," Kelsey replied, "a private beach, I was personally invited, and I'm allowing Dhanya to freeload on my hard work at Sunday night's party. You can come too, if you hurry."

"Maybe another time. I have a hot date with my shopaholic mother."

"Well, if Mom supplies the credit card, that's not such a bad date," Kelsey observed.

When she and Dhanya had departed, Beth turned to Ivy. "You're not going with Will?"

"He's kayaking with Philip."

"That's what I meant. I thought you were going Too."

"No." Ivy felt defensive about her choice. "Mom's leaving tomorrow. I want to spend some time with her." Ivy sat on the yard swing and beckoned for her friend to do the same. "Beth, there's something I need to ask you. After the accident, when you looked at me, did you think I was dead?"

Beth's eyes locked on to Ivy's. For a moment she didn't answer. "Why are you asking that?"

"Did you?" Ivy persisted.

"Yes, but I was wrong," Beth said.

"Obviously."

"I remember telling you we had to get out of the car. You acted as if you couldn't hear me, and when I tried to reach for you, my hand passed through yours."

Beth didn't take her eyes from Ivy's. "Then I felt myself floating upward. I remember looking down on you and me, and seeing my body crumpled against the car's frame."

"An out of body experience," Beth said, her eyes wide with interest. "People who flatline and are resuscitated sometimes report having them."

Ivy leaned toward her friend. "Did you see anyone resuscitate me?" Beth shut her eyes for a moment, then rubbed her forehead. "I... I didn't see anyone. I think I blacked out for a few minutes. I remember opening my eyes and seeing a flashing light, and someone leaning over me. I tried to tell them about you, but they told me to stay still. I was being put in an ambulance. I didn't know where you were. They must have been resuscitating you then."

"No… no." Ivy laid her hand on her heart, remembering the moment she felt its wild beating. She couldn't keep her voice from trembling. "It was Tristan."

"What?!" Beth exclaimed.

"I think Tristan saved me."

Beth frowned. "You mean because you called to him, he sent the paramedics—"

"No, I mean
Tristan
saved me. I heard him. I felt his arms wrap around me. He kissed me."

"Oh, Ivy," Beth said, resting her hands on Ivy's. "He couldn't have. He fulfilled his mission and left you after you were safe from Gregory. The night Suzanne and I spent with you, just before dawn, he said good bye. You told me that!"

"I'm telling you now he was there for me."

Beth shook her head. "It's how your mind has interpreted the experience. Or perhaps you were given a dream of Tristan to comfort you.

"It was him!" Ivy insisted.

"Ivy, don't make it harder for yourself! Tristan is dead and gone."

Ivy pulled her hands away. "I I think it's just the anniversary that's affecting you like this," Beth said, in a quieter voice. "It will be easier once it has passed. But right now, be careful what you say to Will. He told me that— well, just don't hurt him, Ivy. This anniversary and the way it is making you think of Tristan is very hard on Will."

Unexpected anger flared up in Ivy. She didn't need Beth to remind her about Will's feelings. As if she didn't already feel like a traitor!

Ivy turned away, feeling the way she did the weeks following Tristan's death, when people were giving her advice about how to get over him, none of them understanding how painful it was to remember—and how painful it was not to.

"Ivy," her mother called from the back steps of the inn. "You ready? Beth, come with us—girls' day out! I'd love to buy you something pretty."

"Thank you, no," Beth called back. "My headache's back," she said to Ivy without meeting her eyes, then gave a small shrug and retreated to the cottage.

WHEN IVY RETURNED FROM THE SHOPPING TRIP, during which she had successfully distracted her mother from clothes with a search for vintage Sandwich glass, a familiar ringtone sounded on her phone. "Hi, Will."

"Ahoy!" It was Philip's voice.

"Why, shiver me timbers!" Ivy replied. "Where are you, Bluebeard?"

"Uh..."

There was a discussion at the other end with some squawking seagulls in the background, then Will got on the phone and gave Ivy directions to the beach on Pleasant Bay where he and Philip were boating. "Can you come?"

"Just have to change into my suit," Ivy replied. Arriving at the beach with towels, a bag of cookies, and a thermos, Ivy spotted Will and Philip next to the long green kayak that Aunt Cindy had lent them. They were building a castle, both of them wearing red pirate bandanas on their heads and strings of bright Mardi Gras beads around their necks. Intent on their digging and piling of sand, neither of them saw her —or the camp of girls who were admiring Will.

Tan, his muscles glistening with sweat as he worked, Will's artist hands quickly shaped ramparts and towers. He looked up suddenly, his deep brown eyes shining with pleasure.

"Why, here's a lass!" he said. "Avast ye, Bluebeard."

Bluebeard looked up. "She's a scallywag."

"Be nice, you scurvy dog," Ivy said to Philip, "or I won't share my chocolate chip booty."

"Chocolate chips? Ahoy, me hearty!" Will responded. "Let me spread that towel for you." He took her bundles from her, and standing close, bent his head, resting his forehead against hers. "It's good to see you," he said softly. Ivy took off her sunglasses and looked into his eyes.

"Pirates don't do mushy stuff," Philip said.

"Shore leave," Will replied, then kissed Ivy. They spread the towels next to the castle and shared the cookies. Opening a ziplock bag, Will took out a sketch pad and flipped through to a blank page. Pencil in hand, he worked quickly, easily, his eyes moving from paper to Ivy, paper to Ivy.

"I don't really have to look," he said, smiling. "I've got you memorized."

In five minutes he had a sketch of two pirates with a treasure chest between them, a short Bluebeard lifting up a jeweled goblet, a girl pirate lifting up a robe with a feathery hem and collar. Ivy laughed.

"Do you think Lacey and Ella could meet pirates on one of their angel adventures?" Philip asked.

"I'll have to talk to the author, but I think we can arrange that."

Will moved to a fresh page and started drawing more slowly a cluster of trees to their right, working the pattern of their branches against the deep sweep and curve of the bay. He hummed as he drew. His happiness, his joy in that moment, made Ivy ache.

"Philip, want to take a walk?" she asked. Her little brother jumped to his feet.

"Weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen!" he cried.

"Whoa! Where did you get that line?"

"Will."

Will looked up and smiled. "Don't get lost, matey."

Philip looked left and right, then said to Ivy. "That way!" She was glad that he pointed left, toward the spit of sand that pushed out into the bay, creating behind its trees a secluded cove. She walked silently, while Philip, still young enough to talk out his fantasies, strutted and gave orders to his pirate crew. He found rubies and doubloons at the edge of the water. From time to time, he raised his spyglass and saw danger on the horizon.

When they had rounded the point, they came upon a deposit of sea stones, shiny wet and glittering in the late afternoon sun. They knelt down to pick through them. "Philip," Ivy said, trying to sound casual, "you told someone in the hospital to pray to Tristan. Do you still pray to him?"

"Of course."

"And does he answer?"

"You mean, do I hear him?"

"Yes."

"Not anymore. I stopped hearing him after Gregory died." Ivy nodded and continued sorting through the stones, telling herself she shouldn't have expected anything else, and it was silly to be disappointed.

Philip rolled a pebble between his fingers, then discarded it. "I hear Lacey."

Ivy glanced up. "You do? You never mentioned that before!"

"You never asked." Ivy sat back on her heels, thinking. She hadn't sensed Lacey's presence in the house—hadn't seen the telltale purple shimmer that indicated the angel was mere—so she had assumed that when Tristan said good-bye, Lacey had left too.

Of course, Lacey hadn't liked her; Ivy knew that. Lacey had helped her because Lacey cared about Tristan—was in love with him, Ivy suspected.

"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum," Philip sang, stirring the wet pebbles and sand with his finger. "The doctors told Mom it's a miracle you didn't die."

"Yes, it seems like a miracle. I prayed to"—she hesitated—"an angel." Philip looked up at her, as if he suddenly understood. "Did Lacey help you?"

"I think some angel did," Ivy replied.

"Let's ask her," Philip said. "Lacey!" He stood and raised his hands to the sky. "Hey, Lacey, Lacey, Lacey. C'mon, Lacey, you scallywag!"

There was no response. Philip shrugged, then knelt to continue sorting through the stones. "I guess she's busy."

"Well, blow me down, if it isn't the old buccaneer and his scurvy sister!" a husky voice said.

"Lacey!" Philip replied happily.

"Hi, Lacey," Ivy greeted her, trying not to let the hope seep into her voice. If Lacey was still here—

"Long time no see," Lacey replied to Ivy, "which works for me." Her purple shimmer came close to them, as if she were crouching on the sand. "This one's perfect." A smooth round stone appeared to hop into Philip's hand.

"What's up, Philip? I can't stay long this time got a new gig—an apprentice that doesn't have a due what he's doing."

Philip nodded. "Just a question: Did you save Ivy's life on Sunday night?"

"Excuse me?" She moved away from where Philip and Ivy were kneeling and appeared to dance along the edge of the water. Her shimmer was as delicate as a sea mist, the deep purple of a mollusk shell. "Save Ivy?"

"Beth and I were in a car accident," Ivy explained.

Lacey came closer, circling Ivy, as if studying her. Ivy felt the gentle pressure of fingers against her temple and knew that Lacey was materializing just the tips of them; by the time Tristan had left, he had been able to do that too.

"I've seen paper cuts bigger than that," Lacey said.

"I know," Ivy replied with surging confidence. "Tristan healed me."

"What?"

"Tristan?" Philip asked, sounding surprised as Lacey.

"Not possible," the angel said adamantly. "Last time I was with Tristan, he was headed to the Light. He had fulfilled his mission—thanks to me," she added. "By now, he's far beyond all of us, hanging out with Number One Director, I'm sure."

"But I felt his arms around me," Ivy insisted and recounted the details of the accident. When she described looking down at her body in the crushed car, then rising the starry night, Lacey's purple mist held perfectly still. For a full thirty seconds after Ivy finished, Lacey was uncharacteristically silent.

Ivy thought she might have stopped listening halfway through until Lacey spat out, "Unbelievable. Unbelievable!"

Small stones, one after another, were lifted by an invisible hand and hurled into the water. "Hey!" Philip cried, "that was my best one!"

"Sorry." The shower of stones stopped. "I just hope you were hallucinating," Lacey said to Ivy, "because if what you're describing really happened, there's going to be serious fallout."

Ivy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Angels can't go around giving the kiss of life."

The kiss of life, Ivy repeated to herself, recalling how, when Tristan kissed her, she was suddenly aware of her heart beating. "It's against the rules."

"How do you know?" Ivy asked Lacey. "How do I know? Look at me. What d'ya see?"

"Fog with an attitude," Ivy replied.