The Wishing Tree (18 page)

She wanted to move past the friendship he was trying to create. Soar right over that and land on the other side, in
a world of love and passion she had been missing so much lately. She put her hand over his and leaned toward him.

He abruptly pulled his hand away and turned his head. “We should go find Shea,” he said, his voice steady and matter-of-fact.

“Shea’s a big girl. She’ll show up when she’s ready.” She couldn’t keep the disappointed snark out of her tone.

“It means a lot to Owen.”

“This means a lot to me,” she said.

“Why?” he asked. He took his large hands and placed them on her shoulders, pushing her away gently. “Why are you doing this, Ivy? Didn’t you do enough five years ago? What’s your goal this time? To finish me off?”

She looked at him, incredulous. “Is that what you think? That this is some sort of game for me? That what happened five years ago meant nothing to me?”

“Oh no, I know it meant everything to you. He meant everything to you. You gave everything up for him.” He extended his arm, sweeping it in an arc to indicate the whole place—Sunset, the beach house, her family, him.

“It was a mistake,” she said quietly. “I made a mistake. That’s what I’ve been wanting to say all this time. Ever since I got here.”

“When did you decide it was a mistake, though, Ivy? Was it before you found out he was cheating on you, or after?”

She flinched at the ugliness of his words, how cutting they were. “Why does it matter?” she managed, not wanting to answer him.

He fixed her with that blue gaze of his. “Because I won’t be someone’s consolation prize. Not even yours.”

“I’m not asking you to be. I’m just …” She sighed. “I don’t even know what I’m asking.”

His laughter was laced with irony. “And here we are again. Ivy doesn’t know what she wants.”

Her voice was quiet. “I want you.”

“Do you know why I bought the McCoy house?” His response was not what she was expecting.

“Because it was a good bargain?” She sighed and leaned back against her seat.

He shook his head and raised his eyes to meet hers. “It was the final step in a long process.”

“Process?”

He didn’t blink as he spoke. “The process of getting over you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Oh,” she said, so quiet she doubted he even heard her. She tried not to let his words about getting over her sink in.

“Last summer I was driving around here, thinking about us, about how I was doing well and moving ahead and how—finally—it didn’t hurt so much. I could think about building a life apart from you, with someone else. And I turned the corner and saw the For Sale sign in the yard, and I just … knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That I had to buy this house, and restore it. It was … symbolic.” He sat up a little taller.

She nodded, pretending to understand, sensing that if she asked too many questions, he would close back up tighter than a clam shell. “Do you want to know why?” He
gave her a devilish grin, letting her know he already knew she did. Teasing her came natural, even now. “It was in that kitchen that I first knew I was in love with you.”

She blinked at him, her heart hammering in her chest, thrilled at the admission, yet searching her memory banks for a significant exchange between the two of them that had taken place in that kitchen. She came up empty. The only memories she had of that kitchen involved Mrs. McCoy’s tea parties and homemade lemonade.

He chuckled to himself. “I don’t expect you to know what I’m talking about. It’s something insignificant, nothing you ever knew about. Something I kept to myself.”

“I guess we both kept some things to ourselves,” she observed, thinking of the things she still hadn’t said to him.

He nodded and continued. “One day Owen and I went there looking for you and Shea. We were going crabbing and we wanted you guys to come with us. Your mom said to look for you there. So we did. You were thirteen years old, sitting at the table with Mrs. McCoy and Shea, and you were all laughing at something. And I remembered I stood watching you for a moment before you noticed I was there, and I was just so—” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “This sounds cheesy, but it’s true, I was captivated by you. You were so beautiful and it was like you didn’t even know it. You were just so … you. And I knew I couldn’t change that and I couldn’t control it. But at thirteen years old I didn’t want to. I just wanted you to be you—whatever that was—for as long as you’d let me be a witness to it.”

She swallowed, trying to gather herself after his unexpected
revelation. She found it hard to look at him, dropping her eyes to the gearshift and his hand resting there. Finally, she asked a question. “We were thirteen? But we didn’t …”

He laughed. “Get together for two years? Yeah, it took me that long to get up the nerve.”

She smiled, grateful at the humor breaking up the tension. “And here I thought I was the one who orchestrated us getting together all this time. That summer we were fifteen, I made it my goal to get you to notice me.”

“Oh, I noticed.”

“Well, you did a good job hiding it.”

They both laughed and she noticed her breathing was becoming easier, her heart returning to its normal rhythm, the laughter an equalizer. This was turning out far better than she had hoped.

He moved his hand from the gearshift to rest on top of hers, his touch warm and clearly meant to just be friendly. “I know what happened. Why you broke it off,” he said.

“You do?” She wasn’t sure
she
completely knew what happened between them or why they broke up beyond Elliott coming into her life, sweeping her off her feet, convincing her that the life she craved waited in the mountains.

He nodded, his eyes intent. “Somehow, after we got together, I stopped seeing that girl at the table. I forgot that I didn’t want to control who you were … and I started trying to manipulate who you became. Because who you became affected who I became, and that scared me. It was my fear that led to us doing what was expected of us, going along with the plans our families made for us.” He moved his hand away again. “I think I knew you didn’t want the
wedding they were planning, didn’t want the life they signed us up for. And yet it was a life I knew, a life that felt safe.”

Tears filled her eyes. So he
did
understand. “Meanwhile I was learning that nothing in life is safe.”

“Your parents’ marriage breaking up really did a number on you. And there was nothing I could do to change that.”

She pressed her lips together, nodding. “When I looked at you, I just saw something else I couldn’t count on. I figured that everything we knew about each other was bogus, that even people you think you can count on are bound to disappoint you in the end.”

“It sounds like a lesson you’re learning all over again.”

She shrugged. “I think that’s just life—you know? One disappointment after another. I ran to Elliott because he was so different from what I knew. And I think I thought if I went after something different, then maybe my life would turn out different. That one of these days I’d find someone who would stick—who would be there no matter what.”

“You never really gave me that chance.”

She held up her hands. “No, I guess I didn’t.”

They sat silently for a while, each thinking over all that had been said. Ivy felt a range of emotions—thrilled at the admissions Michael had made, anxious over what would happen now, relieved at having said some of what she wanted to say to him. “So what do we do now?”

He shook his head. “We find Shea? We get through this wedding?”

A sense of bravery rose up in her, enabling her to ask a question of her own. “We see if there’s something still there for us?”

His reaction was immediate. He shook his head. “No. I meant what I said. Restoring this house—and then selling it—is the final step in a long process for me. A process I never want to go through again. I want to make a fresh start, one that enables me to take what I’ve learned from this experience and make a new life. Something different.” He winked, using her own words against her.

“I think you and I talking over all of this is good. And I get that you need to address some of this stuff with me. I think we both need that. For closure, even if that does sound like psychobabble.” He grinned, signaling that their heart-to-heart was over. He gave a quick squeeze to her left hand, the one still bearing her wedding ring. “You need to figure things out with your husband,” he said. “Betrayal is devastating if you let yourself really feel it. I know that better than anyone.”

She wanted to say something in response, her stomach hurting over the thought of what she’d done to him. But he continued before she could find the words. “You need to let yourself feel that betrayal—really face it—before you can go on. Admit to yourself how alone you feel. Take it down to the base level—just you and God—then rebuild from there.”

He turned from her, gripping the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead. They were silent as the minutes passed. The night sky deepened to a dark gray, and the stars came out as she waited. She looked above her at the expanse, thinking of the night she and Elliott had ridden the chairlift in the dark and stared at a winter sky that looked much like this early summer one.

He turned the key in the ignition. “Let’s go back. Maybe
they’ve found her by now.” He backed out of the parking space and went back the way they’d just come. And as he did, a tear trickled from the corner of her eye and made its way down her face before falling onto the upholstery of his Jeep, a part of her remaining with him. There was so much that had remained with him, and that was what she had to make him understand.

The production crew had given up and gone back wherever they
had come from by the time Michael dropped her off and drove away without another word. She stood in the front yard and watched his taillights disappear, wondering where he was going and wishing she could go wherever it was. She tiptoed up the front steps and into the house, running into Owen as she stepped into the dark, quiet house.

“Oooph,” he grunted, rubbing his shoulder. “Watch where you’re going, Ivy.”

“How was I supposed to know you were going to be standing in my living room?”

“Oh, so it’s your living room now. That was quick.”

She shook her head, refusing to let him get her riled. “You know what I mean.”

“Was that Michael dropping you off?”

“Yeah, we were looking for Shea.”

“I drove past the Jeep and saw the two of you talking in it earlier. Didn’t look like you were looking very hard to me.”

“We figured she’d be back by now.”

Owen exhaled loudly. “Nope, I was just giving up and going home.” As much as he could get under her skin, she felt sorry for the guy.

“She’ll show. Knowing Shea, she’s watching the house right now, just waiting for everyone to leave so she can come home and sleep. Margot always taught us ‘everything looks better in the morning!’”

She reached for the lamp and clicked it on, casting Owen’s dismal face in bright light.

“Not everything always looks better in the morning, Ivy,” he said. He brushed past her and was about to throw open the front door when he stopped and turned to her. “You have no right to do what you’re doing with my cousin. He’s a nice guy and he doesn’t deserve to be yanked around just because you’re bored.”

Her mouth opened and closed and opened again as she cast about for something to say. “I–I’m not bored.”

“You’re some bored housewife who lost her job and is jealous of her sister, so you’re trying to see if you can create some drama of your own. Just be honest.”

She crossed her arms and threw her foot out to widen her stance. “First of all, I’m no housewife. I’ve been running a company until a few weeks ago. And second of all, I don’t need to create drama, I have plenty of it already, thank you very much.” She clamped her mouth shut before she spilled the beans about the reporter she’d met earlier.

“Then why can’t you just leave the poor guy alone? He was doing so good. Then you show up and you’re all ‘Oh, Michael, I’ll help you fix up your house.’ ‘Oh, Michael, let’s go to our favorite little restaurant.’ ‘Oh, Michael, let me help you find Shea.’ That’s the last thing he needs.”

“Why don’t you let him decide that for himself?”

“Why don’t you go back to your husband?”

“I will. As soon as your stupid wedding is over. I was invited here, I will remind you.”

“Well, that invitation didn’t include confusing my cousin over his feelings for you.”

Her heart skipped a few beats. “Michael’s confused?” she blurted, hating the hopeful note in her voice. He’d sounded so resolute and certain in the Jeep, his heart as closed as his hand, fisted on the gearshift as they talked.

“Yeah. Of course. The girl he almost marries comes back into his life and starts basically throwing herself at him. I’d say that would confuse most anyone.”

“Do you think he wants things to … work out between us?”

Owen frowned and opened the front door. “Look, Michael’s over you. He just doesn’t like this game you’re playing. And neither do I. So cool it, okay? And if you see your sister, tell her to call me ASAP.” He shut the door behind him with a bit too much force and from the porch she could hear him say,
“Women”
in a disgusted tone.

She paced around the room, trying to make sense of what Owen had revealed about Michael. Things weren’t as cut-and-dried as he had made them sound. He was at least a little bit interested in her, no matter how much of a fight
he put up. She couldn’t repress the smile that filled her face and was glad she was completely alone so she didn’t have to.

To distract herself from too much thinking about Michael, she got busy opening the wishing tree tags that had arrived that day. She’d found herself looking forward to seeing what was on each one. Some were cute: “May you always remember the three magic words: ‘You’re right, dear.’” Some were spiritual, containing verses or quotes by Christian writers. Some were sad, paying homage to a lost wife or husband and wishing Owen and Shea what the author once had. But all were poignant in their own way. Even the one by the six-year-old girl who had written that she was the one who should be marrying Owen, if only he’d wait. Shea would have a good laugh over that one.

One of the new ones said, “I wish for you to be surrounded by your family and friends always, even as you create a new family and become each other’s best friend.” She turned that one over in her hand, the sentiment taking her back in time to the moment she realized she wasn’t going to be surrounded by family and friends if she married Elliott. She’d broken the engagement with Michael, accepted a ring from Elliott, and told her parents, only to be greeted with icy disapproval and a distance that was about more than the miles between Sunset and Asheville. “If you do this,” her mother had said, “understand that we will not support it.”

Ivy had tried to take in what her mother was saying. “You’re saying you won’t come? To my wedding?” Her voice had risen at the end of each question, giving away the panic she felt at the thought of having to choose between this man
she’d fallen head over heels in love with and her family. Why would anyone ask her to choose? But the lines were drawn. Michael and her family fell inside one, and she and Elliott fell inside the other. The only person willing to cross the lines was Leah, which Ivy appreciated. But it hardly healed her hurting heart.

“Can I at least still wear your dress? Grandmama’s dress?” she’d asked, gripping the phone and wishing that Elliott were there to comfort her. The dress had been passed from bride to bride in their family, with tradition dictating that the older daughter wear it just like she wore the name Ivella Margaret.

There’d been a pause that stretched out like saltwater taffy being pulled, thinning across the distance. Then quietly her mother had said, “I guess. I’ll send it to you.”

And she’d at least made good on that promise. But when the dress arrived, it only served to make Ivy sad every time she looked at it. She didn’t know what made her sadder—that she’d received it from the hands of the UPS man or that she’d be wearing it in front of a group of total strangers. Granted they were now her friends, but really they were Elliott’s friends. In the end she’d packed up the dress, shoved it to the back of her closet, and convinced Elliott to get married in front of a justice of the peace on a Thursday afternoon. April had thrown them a lovely party later, held on the cabin grounds. Ivy had sent invitations to all of her family, but only Leah showed up, making apologies and excuses for the rest of them, telling Ivy what a good choice she’d made with Elliott, even if there was a hitch in her voice as she said it. All the while one word seemed to hang in the air: Michael.
Though no one said it, she knew she’d done the unforgivable in breaking Michael’s heart when she broke their engagement. And in such a cowardly way. It was no wonder he wanted nothing to do with her now.

A flash of white on the back deck startled her, and she dropped the tag she was holding. She bent down to pick it up, scanning the view from the den windows to see what was out there. She saw a form sitting on one of the deck chairs, head down, the blonde hair glowing almost white in the moonlight, giving away who it was. Ivy placed the tag on the tree and went to her sister, crossing the room soundlessly and sliding open the door as quietly as possible. The last thing she wanted was for Margot to hear and decide to join them. This was a conversation she needed to have with Shea alone.

As Ivy approached, Shea lifted her head and gave Ivy a weak smile before looking away. “Just don’t start in on me,” she said.

“I’m not one to throw stones,” Ivy responded. She sat down on the deck chair next to Shea’s, resting her hands on her knees as she decided what to say next. “I thought coming here would be a help to you, but I’ve probably just added to your stress,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

She heard Shea sniffle and tried to look at her face, but she kept it down. Shea raised her hand and wiped her eyes, her voice strained and cracking as she spoke. “We ruined the cake,” she said, and began to cry in earnest, the utterance enough to launch a fresh wave of tears. Ivy waited patiently while she got control of her emotions. Any other time the ruined cake would’ve been funny, a family story to laugh about for years to come. But for some reason, to
Shea this ruined cake had become a commentary on her and Owen as a couple.

“I bet Aunt Leah sees that happen all the time,” Ivy offered. “I bet plenty of couples ruin their cakes. I know for a fact that Aunt Leah bakes the cake that actually gets served for most of them.”

Shea looked up and Ivy thought that her words had helped. But her hope was short-lived. “But we were supposed to be different,” Shea wailed.

Ivy rested her hand on Shea’s shoulder tentatively, ready for her to move away at any moment. Ever since the strange meltdown in the dressing room, she’d been walking on eggshells around her sister, hesitant to tackle their emotional garbage in the emotion-wrought days before the wedding. Maybe it had been a mistake to come, but now that she was here, she really did long to make things right with her sister. “You are different, Shea. You and Owen are this amazing couple that other people want to be like. I mean, look at what’s happened. The
Have a Good Day USA
people are filming your wedding!”

“Don’t remind me,” Shea mumbled. “The cameras were right there filming the whole debacle.”

Ivy couldn’t resist lobbing a joke into the situation. “Wow, Shea, debacle, that’s quite a word.”

Shea cut her eyes over at Ivy, giving her a small grin in reward. “I’m full of surprises.”

“You always were,” Ivy agreed. She waited a moment to see if Shea would say any more, but she kept silent, lost in whatever thoughts had tangled her up and made her run.

“Where were you today?” Ivy ventured, hoping it was a
safe question, hoping that if she asked the right one, while treading lightly enough, she would draw her sister out. She missed the days when she and Shea used to tell each other everything.

“I went for a walk,” Shea said, then sniffled again. But at least the tears had stopped flowing.

“That was quite a walk.”

“I walked to Ocean Isle at low tide. Remember how we used to say we were going to do that one day?”

“Yeah, every time Mom and Dad backed the station wagon out of the drive at the end of the summer to head back to Charlotte, we always said, ‘Next year.’”

“Well, I decided today was the day. So I walked across, then I walked back. Then I just sat at the end of the island for a while, thinking.” She held out her arms. “I even got sunburned.”

Ivy felt a mixture of emotions as Shea described her day—pain at the thought of her sister doing that without her, loss of the life she’d once had, and regret over what she’d given up five years ago. She should’ve walked to Ocean Isle with her sister. She should’ve married Michael. She should’ve tried harder to restore things with Shea. Instead she’d given up, assigned blame to other people, and isolated herself. In that moment, in her heart, she felt more than heard a nudging voice telling her that she was doing the same thing all over again—this time with Elliott.

She ignored the voice, focusing on Shea instead of her own problems. This wasn’t about her. She looked at her sister, thought of her in that dressing room, demanding that she leave. “What did you have to think about?” she asked.

“Oh, you know, the typical stuff brides think about: lifelong commitment, whether I made the right choice, if I have something blue for the ‘something blue’ category.” Shea grinned. “Stuff like that.”

Ivy went for the easiest point. “I thought you were wearing Grandmama’s blue hairpin in your hair?”

Shea nodded. “Yeah, I am.” She laughed a little, knowing that Ivy was hesitant to touch what she had revealed. Shea elbowed her. “Go ahead and ask me about the rest of it.”

“Are you really having cold feet? You?”

Shea sat up straighter. “Why not me?”

Ivy shrugged. “Because you’re … Shea. And Owen. You go together. You’re the most likely to …”

“To what?”

Ivy laughed. “I don’t know. Be together forever. Ride off into the sunset. Have 2.5 children and a house with a white picket fence. All of it.”

“Then I guess you’d be surprised to know that I think the reason Owen proposed to me on national TV was because he was betting I wouldn’t say no if there were cameras filming the whole thing.”

Ivy thought of that moment in her living room alone, watching Shea live every little girl’s dream on live television. How envious she’d been. How alone she’d felt watching it with no one to share the moment. How far away from her family she’d seemed. She’d never once considered that her sister wouldn’t want what Owen was offering.

Shea continued. “Haven’t you ever stopped to think about why Owen and I aren’t married by now?”

Ivy sat in stunned silence, backtracking over all the thoughts she’d had about her sister and Owen in the years that had lapsed since she left. She’d always seen them as the perfect couple, her sister stepping into the role she’d walked away from, their wedding inevitable and certain. She’d always thought it was a matter of timing, of finding that perfect timing. She’d thought that Shea was waiting because it was the right thing to do, never because getting married to Owen might be wrong for her.

“Are you going to call it off?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder just in case. Her heart was racing—a mixture of dread at the thought of another wedding being called off and excitement at the thought that she wouldn’t be the only one.

Her heart slowed as she saw Shea start to shake her head. “No. I decided not to.” She turned to face Ivy. “Am I crazy to go through with it?” Her eyes begged Ivy to offer her assurance. Even in the dark Ivy could see evidence of the tears she’d shed throughout the day.