Waiting Fate (2 page)

She refused to check the rearview mirror. She was done looking over her shoulder. She was done being afraid. She was done cowering in terror. She’d been trying to escape for over a year. She had a chance now and she was running, as fast and hard as she could go.

Technically, she wasn’t done looking over her shoulder, but she only looked as far as the back seat, where her fifteen-month-old slept in her car seat. That was part of the reason she had left so late — Deserea, or Desee, would hopefully sleep for the next ten or so hours, which would get them almost to Dawson City, on the Yukon border and the official start of the Alaska Highway. “Who needs sleep anyway, huh, Sadi?” She smiled over at the small German shepherd curled awkwardly in the passenger seat. The dog huffed at her in agreement.

The drive was gorgeous, especially this late at night, when the animals were awake and active. That was one of the reasons this long, lonely stretch of road was so famous. But active animals, while pretty, made it dangerous, because hitting one this far away from everything would wreck her car and it could take hours for help to arrive — assuming she even had cell service to call for help. So she watched the road, trying to blink as infrequently as possible. Every so often, Sadi would sit up and help her keep watch, leaving nose prints on the window.

The sun went down, but it never fully set, not here on top of the world. In the dusk of the early morning hours, she turned her cell phone on, wincing when she saw she had several voicemails. She knew who they were from, and she didn’t want to hear his voice. The restraining order or the military promises should keep Vick away, but she still didn’t feel safe. Even though he’d been arrested many times, he had an uncanny ability to never stay caught. He was sneaky, evil, and could always find a way out of the system. And when it came to punishing her for whatever new thing she’d done wrong, nothing got in his way.

She turned her phone off and shoved it back in her purse. Sadi eyed it with apparent distrust. “Don’t worry, he won’t catch us. By the time he realizes we’ve left Alaska, we’ll be back to Utah.”

Desee woke up as the sun rose higher in the sky. She was an abnormally content baby, and even after she was awake, she spent several minutes batting at the toys hanging on the arm of her car seat before she started clamoring to be fed.

As Ivy pulled the car off on a pullout, she said, “Just a couple more hours and we’ll be in Dawson. We can stop for the night... er… day. Stop for a nap.” Desee babbled in the back.

Ivy shifted the car into park and got out to stretch her legs, mixing a bottle while snapping on Sadi’s leash and trying to unbuckle wriggly Desee. Wrapping the leash around her wrist, Ivy scooped Desee into her arms and balanced the bottle between the leash and her fingers. “This should go well,” she muttered as Sadi pulled her toward the trees.

Out of habit, Ivy checked the road behind them, terrified for one short second. But with a stronger will than she’d even been aware she had, she shook it off. He wouldn’t dare come after them. Not with the restraining order and the military watching his every move, just waiting for him to step over the line so they could throw him in the brig. She had promises. Promises on pieces of paper from lots of different people telling her he would stay away from her. “We’re safe. We’re
safe
now.”

The Alaskan Highway might not be the safest place for a single mother, her baby, and her small German shepherd, but Alaska itself had been kind to Ivy for the past two years, and it was kind as it let her go. The trip was beautiful but uneventful, even as it tore her heart to shreds to leave this place that seemed to claim half her soul. Such an odd imbalance — the peace she’d found in Alaska and the horror she’d experienced in her home — in Alaska.

One day, she would come back. She had promised herself that yesterday as she’d left, looking out at the ocean, and that promise gave her the courage to go. Well, that and the baby snuggled in her car seat in the back, trusting her mama to keep her safe.

It took six days, but pulling into her parents’ home in Utah was a balm to her broken heart. Her mom and dad both met her in the driveway, taking her purse, Sadi’s leash, and her keys, and then enveloping her in hugs before she was even out of her car. Desee squealed to be free of her seat, and Ivy was pretty sure she would never go near it without a fight again. Sadi slipped her leash and rushed into the house she hadn’t been in for two years, smelling everything, knocking things over with her tail, tackling Andy the cocker spaniel in an enthusiastic greeting. She shied away from Jack, but that was understandable, given what she’d been through.
Poor Sadi.

“I thought we’d never get here!” Ivy exclaimed as she unbuckled Desee. The baby tumbled herself out of her car seat and sat up, grinning.

“Oh, look how big she is!” Ivy’s mom, Beverly, scooped Desee up off the floor of Ivy’s car, holding her out so she could get a good look, happy tears running down her cheeks.

“Tiny little thing.” Ivy’s dad, Jack, crooked a finger at Desee and she latched on, guiding it to her mouth to bite.

“She’s teething. Back molars coming in, I think,” Ivy said with a grin as her dad grimaced in pain.

“Sharp teeth,” Jack muttered, but his smile didn’t fade.

Ivy hadn’t been home for over a year, and the last time she’d been able to come home had been briefly for Vick’s grandfather’s funeral.

Her dad hadn’t changed, but then he hadn’t changed in the last twenty years. Almost seventy-five years old and he looked sixty. He was balding, but still had short, spiky grey hair on the sides. Ivy secretly snickered at the fact that he had more hair on his face than he did on his head. She planned to tease him about it as soon as she got the chance, but she’d be polite for at least thirty seconds first.

Bev was almost sixty-five, but it seemed both of them had stopped aging at sixty. Her wild gray hair was in disarray, as it always was, and she would complain about it and perm it and try to tame it into place, but always she lost the battle and Ivy loved it. She was tall — clearly Ivy hadn’t gotten her lack-of-height genes from her mom.

No matter how young they both looked for their ages, Ivy worried. Jack had high blood pressure and Bev fought all kinds of health issues. They hid them well, her sneaky parents, but Ivy knew enough to know that if she wasn’t careful with all her drama, she could be the death of them. It was a thought that had haunted Ivy since she’d asked if she could come home.

“Kate and her family are on their way. They left Scottsdale as soon as the kids got out of school last night. Your big sister should be here in a few hours,” Bev said, not taking her eyes off her granddaughter. Desee stared at her with big hazel eyes. She had trust issues and didn’t speak to anyone but Ivy and Sadi. Ivy hoped it was a phase.

If Ivy had any energy left, she would bounce on her toes and maybe squeal a bit. She hadn’t seen Kate in forever, and she missed her big sister.

“Well, come on inside.” Jack waved them toward the house. “No point getting eaten alive by mosquitoes.” Ivy hid a grin. The mosquitoes here had nothing on the bird-size nightmares in Alaska.

They hadn’t made it ten steps inside before a grey pickup roared into the driveway. “Is she here? Is she home?” Kim, Ivy’s middle sister, burst into the house like a tornado, enveloping Ivy in a hug. Kim was the same size as Ivy, but her presence was so much bigger. “Don’t you ever go so far away again.” Kim’s voice was muffled in Ivy’s hair. “Do you understand me?”

Ivy nodded through tears. “Yes, ma’am.” If Ivy didn’t know better, she’d think Kim was crying, too. But Kim was tough. She never cried.

Her family didn’t know about Vick’s violent side, but it didn’t matter. The baby of the family was hurting, and they flocked to her side, ready to protect her from forces they didn’t even know existed. That was how her family worked, and that was how Ivy would heal. They surrounded Ivy and Desee and even Sadi in a protective circle of love. The pain eased, the fear subsided. Hope bloomed on the horizon.

****

“So what are you going to do with yourself now?” Jack asked one night. It was early July and they were having an easy meal at home. Quiet. Safe.

“I’m going to get my degree. I’m almost done… I think,” Ivy said, trying not to choke on the mashed potatoes that suddenly seemed too thick in her throat. “I need to register because classes start at the end of August, but I’m not sure what to take.”
Overwhelmed? Why yes, that would be an understatement,
Ivy thought.

“Well, let’s go talk to your academic adviser. I’ll take you tomorrow.” Jack nodded. The situation was settled before she could get a word in and Jack moved on to other topics. All Ivy could do was smile. In all the time she’d been away, her dad hadn’t changed a bit.

****

Ivy’s palms were sweating as she watched her academic advisor, whom she had never met before, look over her file.
She’s going to tell me I’m a slacker and I need to get my tail out of her office. She’s going to tell me I’m never going to graduate. She’s going to tell me…

“Well, it looks like you had a rough start, but the last several semesters you’ve done well. If you could take two full-time semesters, you could get your BA.” She turned her monitor so that Ivy could see her file. “These classes here are the ones you’ve taken. These classes here are all the ones you have to have for your degree.” She dragged her finger down the list. “There are a few you took that you didn’t need. Those are here.” She looked up at Ivy with a smile. “And in this tiny little list here are the ones you need.”

Ivy leaned forward, studying the list. “I’m so close,” she whispered.

“Yes, you are. Let me print this for you. Go straight downstairs to registration and get all set up.” She hesitated, then winked at Ivy. “If there are classes you need that are full, come talk to me. I can pull some strings. Good luck on the final leg of your journey!”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much!” Ivy said as she backed out of the office on shaking legs.

“I was in your shoes once. Quitting is so much easier than never giving up. But you’ve come so far. I’d love to help you finish.”

Ivy had been attending college via online classes for the last three years, ever since Vick had joined the military and moved her around the country, but she could only take a couple of classes a semester when she’d had to keep up with a baby and two jobs. And once she’d gotten to Alaska, she hadn’t had Internet, so she’d had to do everything at the local library, which was just awesome trying to manage that with a baby. Now,
finally
, she could go full-time and get her degree. The thought that she might make it, might see that dream come true, was almost too much to hope for. But she hoped anyway.

****

“I feel ridiculous. No one else on campus is gonna have a baby!” Ivy exclaimed as she tried to feed Desee with one hand and eat her own cereal with the other. Her first class of the semester started in forty-five minutes. To say she was nervous was a massive understatement.

“Lots of people will have babies. Just not at school. And neither will you, so you have nothing to worry about,” Bev said, prying Desee’s spoon from Ivy’s hand. “Eat.” She nodded toward Ivy’s soggy breakfast.

Ivy shoveled in another bite, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat.

“Besides, you look like you’re eighteen. No one’s gonna realize you’re divorced with a kid,” Kim said, leaning a hip against the kitchen counter while she watched Ivy with amusement, her bright blue eyes sparkling mischievously. She played absently with her waist-length brown hair, hair that Ivy had always been just a tad jealous of. It was thick and not stick-straight like Ivy’s.
My poor hair is so thin I’m practically balding.

“I’m not divorced yet,” Ivy mumbled.

“You’re in the process. Good enough.” Kim shrugged. Ivy pushed her dark brown hair over her shoulder and bit her lip. Kim laughed, rolling her eyes.

“You’ve gotta go,” Beverly said, taking away the half-eaten bowl and handing Ivy the cereal box.

“This brings back memories.” Ivy couldn’t help but smile. In high school, she could never wake up on time, but rather than let her youngest daughter skip breakfast, Bev had sent her with a glass of milk and a box of cereal, and Ivy would eat it right out of the box on her way to school. “Good habits die hard,” she said as she snatched her bag up off the floor and planted a kiss on Desee’s cheek.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” she asked Bev as she walked backward toward the back door.

Bev heaved a long-suffering sigh and rolled her eyes. “Yes. I managed to raise three daughters of my own, you know.”

“I know, but —”

Bev held up a hand against Ivy’s objection. “We’ll be fine. It’s three hours.”

But Ivy hadn’t been away from Desee for more than naptime since she had come home to Utah, over two months ago. Desee was warming up to Grandma and Grandpa. It would be fine. It had to be fine, since Ivy couldn’t very well take a toddler to school with her, so she blew Desee another kiss and raced out the door.

Climbing in the car, she fought tears, told herself she was ridiculous, and fought more tears. “Hey, on the bright side, I haven’t heard from Vick in months. That’s good, right?” Oh yes, she knew she was having a conversation with an empty car, but hearing herself speak out loud calmed her... which probably meant that she was a complete lunatic. She jammed the key in the ignition. “So yeah. Insane. But that’s our secret, right little car?”

****

Her hands were shaking and her knees were weak when she tried to climb out of her car in the campus parking lot. Since all her classes had been online, she hadn’t actually attended school on campus since her first semester after high school. That was right before she’d made the stupidest decision of her life — and gotten married. Of course, school hadn’t come first, so she had missed… a lot. And failed... a lot. Now she was spending years making up for it.

She hesitated by her car door, watching kids several years younger than she was hurrying off, their lives full of prospects and hope and not shattered, like hers. “You can do this,” she muttered, slamming the door resolutely. She melded with the other students flooding across the parking lot toward the buildings, grateful for maybe the first time ever for being so short she could blend right in and disappear.