Ivy in the Shadows (15 page)

“Flowers?” Pastor Harold asked. He touched a petal of one of the pink carnations as he craned his neck at an angle to read the card. I'd snooped enough in my life to know he didn't want it to look like he was reading the card, but I knew he was.

By then the phone had rung about four times so I grabbed it.

“Hey, Ivy.”

“Ellen, hey!” My heart did a triple beat. “What's up?”

“I want my things back.”

“Things?” I said. “What things?”

Ellen let out a lungful of air into the phone. “The clothes I bought you. I want them back.”

A million questions came to mind.
Why are you doing this to me? Why don't you want me around anymore? Aren't I hurting enough?
But all I could get out was the first word. “Why?”

“Because they're mine, that's why.”

And, suddenly, I was so mad I decided not to give her the satisfaction of knowing how she hurt me.

“Hey, no problem. I'll have the clothes along with everything else you've given me over there soon. Shouldn't take long. You never gave me that much.” It felt satisfying to hear her gasp. “Oh, and the stuff you have of mine? Just pitch it. I haven't given you anything that I really cared about.”

“Oh, give me a break, Ivy, I can't believe you're acting so—”

This time I was the one who hung up on her.

I grabbed a garbage bag from the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time. I marched into my room, wadding the clothes she'd bought me, which, really, were a pure joy to get rid of. Then I snatched up the stuffed animals she'd given me as birthday gifts. I ripped the picture of us with our hair parted in half, one side dyed blue and one red. Our hands were stretched high in the air and our mouths open from screaming. It was taken the year Jack Henry and Mama let me bring Ellen on our family trip to the amusement park in southern Ohio. The picture got blurry so I thrust it into the bag before tears dropped on it. I didn't want Ellen to know I cared. I would
not
let her know I cried.

I didn't realize I'd kept so much of her in my room until I had to clean it out. I threw her notes away instead of giving them back. I wouldn't think about how I'd kept every one. I gave the room a once-over and saw Daisy Dog on my nightstand. I picked her up. She looked at me so friendly with her painted-on eyes and smile. I pushed her ear and she licked my finger. I sat her back by my bed. It would be the only thing I'd keep.

I threw the bag over my shoulder and headed downstairs to return it. I walked outside and saw JJ and Caleb squatted beside a bucket under a weird-shaped wagon that was hitched to the truck. Pastor Harold turned a crank and corn came out of the bottom to fill the bucket.

“Tell Mama and Aunt Maureen I'll be right back,” I said.

Pastor Harold never missed a beat. He just kept turning that handle and said, “JJ will have to tell them, Ivy. I'm leaving soon. I have more important things to do.”

He didn't look up. I tried not to let the words hurt. I was sure he did have more important things to do. Still, I had to swallow the lump in my throat.

At that minute I just wanted to strike out at somebody. I wanted to annoy Ellen and I saw the perfect way.

“On second thought, I'm pretty busy, too. Caleb, can you do something for me? I need to return these things. It's not far if you cut through the backyard to the alley, then go two blocks south. It's a yellow house. Just ring the doorbell. Tell whoever answers that this bag is from Ivy.”

Caleb pushed his glasses back up on his nose and stood, deep in thought. Finally he set the bucket down and held out his hand for the bag. Then he looked at me.

I almost had second thoughts. I knew that what I was doing was mean. I remembered how Ellen had treated him in the cafeteria. But then, that's exactly why sending him to Ellen's was so perfect. She couldn't stand him. She'd hate having him there. And Caleb always did whatever anyone asked of him without arguing. I think that if he had stood up for himself, just this once, I wouldn't have insisted that he go. But, no. He just held out his hand to take the bag.

So I let him.

15

I wondered what happened when Caleb rang Ellen's doorbell but I was too proud to ask, and he didn't say one blessed word about it. When he returned, he said that he would go make sure the mess from the corn was cleaned up. Boys are dumb, if you ask me. They never feel the need to tell you the stuff you care about.

Later that evening, I was helping Mama in the kitchen. I put an onion on the chopping block and hacked.

“Isn't it nice and warm?” Mama interrupted my thoughts. “I really think I'm going to like this corn stove. I hadn't given a thought to heating this drafty place until Pastor Harold brought it up.”

She stopped stirring the gravy long enough to push the hair back from her forehead. “I wish he'd taken me up on the invitation to supper, though. He practically bolted out of here when I got home. Did you notice that?”

I shrugged. “Not really.”

“He's probably a very busy man,” Mama said.

I shrugged again.

“What's the matter, Ivy?” she asked. Before I could answer, Aunt Maureen blew into the kitchen.

“Guess where we're going next Saturday night,” she said.

“Oh, Maureen … you didn't,” Mama said.

“Didn't what?” I asked.

Aunt Maureen slid her lanky body into a kitchen chair and said, “Sweetie, I'll give you a dollar if you'll go check to see if my clothes are dry. Five dollars if you fold them for me.”

Well, I knew what was up. I knew she just wanted me out of the room so she could talk to Mama alone. Still, I didn't have any money so I asked, “Is the five dollars for folding in addition to the one dollar for checking?”

Aunt Maureen gave me that lopsided smile of hers. “You drive a hard bargain, sugar. Six dollars it is, if you go do it right now.”

“Go on,” Mama said. “Your aunt can finish that onion.”

I walked until I was out of the kitchen, then ran to the laundry room. I opened the dryer, dumped all the clothes into a basket, and sneaked back toward the kitchen. I set the basket on the floor outside the kitchen door and gently lifted out a shirt and folded it as I listened. This was a
whole
lot better than listening to just Mama's side of the phone conversations like before.

“I said yes, Cass. I'm going out with Derek again, and I might add, that boy is just
wild
about me. And his friend is taking out…” I didn't hear anything, so I peeked around the corner. She circled in the air with her pointer finger, then stopped when it was pointed straight at Mama. “You.”

Mama shook her head as she stirred the gravy. I pulled back into the shadows so they wouldn't see me.

“Maureen, you didn't tell me you'd invited them to dinner last week. We knew Derek from school but I'm not going out with his friend.”

“You've already been out with him.”

“No, that's not how I see it at all. He sat at the table we did. That's all. I am not dating him. And you! You're not even legally separated from Sonny.”

“Au contraire. I'd say that, considering Sonny is in Georgia and I'm in Indiana, that's about as separate as you can get.”

“You know what I mean,” Mama said. “You're still married.”

“Yes, and I was still married when Sonny left me for weeks on end for his stupid job.”

“Maureen, I know you. I know you're just hurting. If you give yourself some time, you'll see that you're still in love with Sonny. I think you're in pain now and dating Derek is salve for the wound. You need to really think about this. I'm afraid you'll get hurt.”

“Hurt more than I am now? Hurt more than I am that Sonny won't even try to find another job so he's around more? And what about you? You
are
divorced, Cass. You should be having the time of your life right now. When I came here, I thought it would be like the old days, you and me partying and having fun. I've sat around doing nothing for so long. Here you are, single and pretty. We should be tearing up dance floors.”

I could hear them moving around, pots clanging, spoons clinking against dishes. Then Aunt Maureen said, “Cass, remember? You were all broken up about your divorce from Travis.”

Travis, if you'll remember, was my real dad's name. I stopped folding and angled for a glimpse into the kitchen so I could see them. Mama had that pained look she always got when she heard Travis's name. I learned a long time ago not to ask questions about him.

“And I took you out for a night on the town,” Aunt Maureen continued.

“Maureen, don't.”

She went on like she hadn't heard. “We went to hear that new band that everyone was raving about. And the lead singer? You took one look at him, Cass, and you were lost.”

Mama straightened from the stove. “I was young and vulnerable.”

Aunt Maureen laughed that deep laugh. “You were lost, right then and there. You took one look at Jack Henry's long dark hair hanging over his smoky blue eyes and you were a puddle. Cass, you were so much in love that you absolutely glowed. Don't you want to feel that kind of excitement again?”

“Look where it got me, Maureen. Instead of being a divorced, single mother of one child, now I've got two divorces behind me and I'm a single mother of two. I have a job and the burden of this big house to keep up. The last thing I need is for some player to bring ‘excitement' into my life.”

“What do you have against excitement?” Aunt Maureen asked.

“Forest fires are exciting, too, Maureen. But all they do is burn down trees.”

Then they both were quiet. I picked up the laundry basket and took it to Mama's room to finish folding. I thought about what Aunt Maureen had said. I remembered how Mama was when she was with Jack Henry. She loved cooking for him and taking care of the house. It sure didn't seem to be a burden to her back then. I remembered the time Jack Henry forgot Mama's birthday and she cried. The very next night, I heard sounds downstairs and tiptoed to the staircase. There I saw a birthday cake with candles lit and Mama and Jack Henry were dancing while he sang to her. Mama sure “glowed” that night, all right.

“There she is,” JJ said as he came into the room, Caleb trailing along behind. “Hey, Ivy! We were looking for you. Whatcha doin'?”

“Fishing.” I sighed. “I'm folding clothes, what does it look like I'm doing?”

“Yeah, you're fishing!” He picked up a sock and shook it to look like a wiggling fish. Caleb smiled at him, then JJ dropped the sock and rolled on the bed, laughing at himself.

“Stop it, JJ!” I said. “Why don't you help me?”

“'Cause it's more fun to do this.” He jumped into the middle of the stack of folded laundry.

“JJ!” I yelled. “That is
not
funny!”

He looked crestfallen. “I was trying to make you smile. You act so sad, Ivy. Just like Mama. Why is everybody always so sad around here?”

“I am not sad!” I restacked Aunt Maureen's clothes. Caleb reached to help and I gave him a look that would wilt lettuce. “And Mama's not sad.”

“Uh-huh!” JJ said. “I heard her cry at night.”

I stopped messing with the clothes and sat down, all thoughts of Caleb gone. JJ's room was beside Mama's. Mine was down the hall. “You did? When?”

“After Daddy left.”

“But not since Aunt Maureen came, right? I mean, you don't hear her cry now, do you?”

“No, Aunt Maureen makes her laugh, but you've looked sad since Aunt Maureen came.”

I didn't know what to say to that when suddenly JJ cried out, “If Daddy would just come back, everybody would be happy again!” He pushed over the stack of clothes one more time before running out of the room.

“Where did that come from?” I must have said the words, although I really was just thinking to myself.

“He's young. He doesn't remember much about his father. He thinks life was perfect as long as his dad was here so he blames anything upsetting or different on that.”

“He told you that?” I asked.

“I listen.” Caleb shrugged. “Sometimes it's in the things he says, sometimes it's what he does.”

“Yeah, well, you didn't come here until after Mama was divorced. I mean, sure, some things were nicer before. Mama didn't have to work and there was more money. But Jack Henry didn't pay much attention to JJ or me. And he only paid attention to Mama when it was convenient. It's crazy if JJ thinks life was perfect then.”

“It's normal. JJ is young enough to believe in magic. If he believes one rabbit delivers baskets to all children Easter morning, then he could believe in anything he wants, true or not,” Caleb said. “Everyone wants something.”

I'd never thought about it like that. I started to say that very thing to Caleb but he looked so sad. Instead I asked, “What do you want, Caleb?”

At first he didn't answer. Then, in a voice so low I could barely hear it, he said, “My parents.”

16

I went to school on Monday determined to ignore Ellen. I sat with Lindsay on the bus, and as soon as I could get a word in edgewise, I asked her to eat lunch with me. I wanted to stay busy at lunch so I wouldn't be staring at Alexa's table.

“We sat at the same table all last week,” she said. “Why the special invitation?”

“Oh! No reason.” Had I really been so tuned in to what Ellen was doing that I didn't even realize Lindsay was there all along? It made me feel bad, so I paid extra attention to Lindsay on the ride to school.

And I did do a better job of ignoring Ellen, so much that it wasn't until lunch that I noticed she wasn't sitting with Alexa's group.

“Have you seen Ellen?” I asked Lindsay.

“She didn't come today.” Lindsay frowned. “I told you that when we sat down. Weren't you listening?”