Faith, Hope, and Ivy June (10 page)

“Let’s do it again,” Mr. Kirby said. “Take some deep breaths, Ivy June, and really let it out when it’s your time to sing.”

Catherine seemed to know what the problem was. At any rate, she leaned over Ivy June’s shoulder and whispered, “Let’s hear it for Thunder Creek!”

Ivy June remembered that she was the ambassador. Whatever she did or didn’t do would reflect on Miss Dixon and the people back home. She fixed her eyes once more on the sky beyond the window, and when it was her time to sing, she let it out, just as Mr. Kirby had said.

“Wonderful,” he told her as he played it back and they all listened. “That’s a wonderful gift, Ivy June.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was only seven days ago in Thunder Creek that Ivy June had celebrated the last day before vacation, and now she was doing it again here with Catherine. Spring break at Buckner came the week before Easter, and teachers didn’t give assignments to be done over that period. The sun was out for the first time since her arrival, and Ivy June looked forward to doing something fun.

At the start of school on Friday, Jennifer Paine stopped by Catherine’s locker.

“Hey, are you guys going to be around tonight? Thought I’d have a sleepover in honor of Ivy June before everyone takes off for vacation.”

“Oh!” Catherine looked at Ivy June uncertainly. “Sounds fun. I’ll have to call Mom and see if she’s got anything planned. I’ll let you know.”

“Tacos at seven!” Jennifer said, and made her way through the throng of girls to another locker.

Catherine hung up her jacket and turned to Ivy June. “I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to go.”

Ivy June wasn’t sure either. She’d only been on an overnight once, and had shared the room with Shirl and her two sisters. She’d known what to expect there, however, and had no idea what it would be like at Jennifer’s.

“What about you? Do you want to go?” Ivy June asked. “She’s a friend, right?”

“Not a close one,” said Catherine. “Tell you what. If she’s invited Hannah and Mackenzie, we’ll go. If not, I’ll make an excuse.”

It seemed strange to turn in work she would never see again, in classes she would never come back to, Ivy June thought as they went from class to class that morning. She was glad, actually, that she would never have to see what grade she got on her math paper, though she knew she’d done well on the quiz about the Civil War.

At lunchtime, Catherine called her mom on her cell phone and found there was nothing special planned for that evening. And because Mackenzie and Hannah were also going to the sleepover, she told Jennifer that she and Ivy June could come.

The halls were filled with excited chatter about the coming week, with lots of goodbyes, as though the girls were parting for good. A few even hugged Ivy June. Back home, all she had said to Shirl that last day was “Have a good time with Fred Mason.”

As Catherine, Ivy June, Mackenzie, and Hannah waited for Hannah’s mom to pick them up that afternoon, Catherine said, “We’ll see you guys at Jennifer’s tonight. We probably wouldn’t be going if you weren’t. You can never tell about Jennifer.”

“Our family’s flying to Washington tomorrow afternoon,” Hannah said. “We’ll be spending the week visiting the Capitol and stuff.”

“We’re just going to Cincinnati for a couple of days,” said Mackenzie.

Ivy June listened in amazement. People talked of driving to Cincinnati or flying to Washington as easily as Daddy might talk about driving to Hazard—did anyone want to come along? And even that didn’t happen very often.

Hannah’s mom pulled into the school driveway, and the girls edged toward the curb.

“What did you mean, Catherine, that with Jennifer you never can tell?” Ivy June asked, still puzzled about the sleepover.

Catherine and Mackenzie exchanged looks.

“Just that … Jennifer … well, Jennifer’s Jennifer,” Catherine said, not very helpfully.

“She’s fine as long as she’s the star of the show,” Mackenzie explained. “But don’t worry. The sleepover’s at her house, so she’ll be the star of the show.”

Jennifer’s house was half again as big as Catherine’s, with tall white columns on the porch and an entrance hall two stories high.

A sleek blond woman in great jeans and a blue shirt greeted the girls when they stepped inside.

“I’m Jennifer’s mom,” the woman said, extending her hand to Ivy June. “I hope you’re enjoying your stay in Lexington.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Ivy June.

“And how’s your mother, Catherine?” Mrs. Paine asked.

“A little stronger, I think,” Catherine answered just as the doorbell rang again and Jennifer came skittering down the curving staircase to pull her guests inside.

All the girls dropped their bags in the large family room at the back of the house, then trooped into the kitchen, where Mrs. Paine had left all the taco ingredients on the counter. Guests helped themselves to the meat mixture and toppings, then sat down on the couches and floor of the family room to eat. Ivy June looked about her. This space was probably as big as all the rooms in Mammaw’s house put together. A huge stone fireplace covered the wall at one end; a grand piano sat at the other end. The bank of windows along one wall stretched from floor to ceiling.

“So tell us about Thunder Creek, Ivy June,” Megan Murkoff said. “What do you do for fun? Do you have sleepovers like this?”

“Not very often,” Ivy June answered. “Our houses are pretty far apart, and there’s not always someone around to drive us.”

“Do you have best friends?”

“Shirl’s my best. ‘Best pest,’ I call her,” Ivy June said, and the girls laughed. “She’s a cutup.”

“Where do you go when you go out?” asked Courtney.

“Sometimes we go down to Earl Parker’s store on Friday or Saturday nights. Anyone with a fiddle is welcome to stop by and play. Or Earl puts on a CD and plays it over a loudspeaker, and we dance out in the parking lot.”

“So you have electricity?” asked Jennifer.

“Yeah, and most houses have telephones, but we don’t. Phone company keeps promising to string a line, but there’s only a few of us at the south end of the hollow, so they’re not rushing themselves.”

“Cell phone?” asked Catherine.

“Not in the hollows. The town of Thunder Creek is in a service area, but we’re not.”

“Then what do you do in an emergency?” Hannah asked. “What if someone was trying to reach you?”

“They’d probably try the school first, or Earl’s, if it was night. Then somebody would drive up and deliver the news. Or sometimes they’ll reach us through Sam Feeley and his ham radio. He lives back up the mountain a ways, not too far. He’ll get on his horse and ride over,” Ivy June told them.

“Like something out of a storybook!” Megan exclaimed.

Ivy June smiled. “No storybook, exactly.”

The conversation turned to school again, and after the taco crumbs were cleared away and Megan passed around the brownies she had brought, Jennifer told Ivy June they were going to give her the official “Buckner welcome”—trim her hair, do her fingernails, and polish her toenails.

Ivy June glanced at Catherine, but Catherine seemed to be saying this was okay. So, somewhat embarrassed, Ivy June pulled off her shoes, wondering when she’d last cut that toenail on her left foot that was digging a hole in her sock. But since the rest of the girls were tending to each other, she decided to be a good sport.

Someone put on a CD, and as the nail polish and emery boards were brought out, Courtney put a towel around Ivy June’s shoulders and produced a pair of scissors.

“I don’t want it any shorter,” Ivy June said.

“I’m just going to even up the back, that’s all,” said Courtney, and Ivy June could feel the side of the scissors traveling slowly in a horizontal line beneath her shoulder blades. Jennifer, on her left, polished her left toenails and fingernails; a girl on her right did the other foot and hand.

“Feel like I’m a queen or something,” Ivy June said, and the girls looked up from their polishing and smiled.

When nails were dry and Megan was passing around her brownies again, Jennifer turned off the CD and moseyed to the piano. She sat down and idly began picking out a tune, then settled into a beautiful piece, playing more deliberately. She obviously had it memorized.

“What’s this, Ivy June?” she called as she played.

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty,” Ivy June said, blowing on the nails of one hand.

“You don’t know it?” said Megan, seeming surprised.

Jennifer stopped and began playing something else. “Well, what’s this one, then?” she asked.

It was vaguely familiar, but Ivy June didn’t know it either. She shook her head.

“It’s only by one of the greatest composers for piano in the whole world,” said Jennifer.

Ivy June saw Mackenzie and Hannah exchange glances.

“Chopin!” said Megan, an exaggerated expression of disbelief on her face.

Jennifer stopped playing a second time, and began still a third number. “You’ve
got
to know this,” she said, frowning a little at Ivy June.

“The Moonlight Sonata,” said Ivy June, in a soft, embarrassed voice.

“Riiiiiight! And the composer?” said Megan.

“Hey, I thought school was over for the week!” said Catherine quickly.

“Yeah, let’s watch the movie,” said Mackenzie.

A DVD was produced, and Jennifer got up from the piano. Courtney brushed the hair clippings off Ivy June’s shirt and said, “You know, we’re about the same size. I’ve got a great-looking shirt I don’t wear anymore, if you want it.”

Another girl turned around. “What size shoe do you wear, Ivy June? I wear a seven, and I’ve got some sandals I’ll bet you’d like.”

“Thanks, but I don’t have any more room in my suitcase,” Ivy June told them, and headed for the bathroom to brush off the hair around her neck.

She closed the door, her cheeks bright pink, and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Courtney had done a good job with her hair, but how much of what had gone on out there was well intended? The music quiz seemed designed to prove that she hadn’t deserved to be the school’s soloist.

Ivy June took a deep breath and held it. She wanted to leave. Wished she were back at Shirl’s, teasing her about Fred Mason, horsing around with Shirl’s sisters, reading their magazines. But Miss Dixon had called her the ambassador from their school, so ambassador she was going to be. Ivy June exhaled, brushed the hair off her shoulders, and went back out to the family room.

When it came time to sleep, the girls unrolled sleeping bags or settled down on one of the three couches. Ivy June finally fell asleep, only to be wakened about seven in the morning when Jennifer’s eight-year-old brother sneaked into the room and began playing “Chopsticks” on the piano.