Waiting Fate (7 page)

“She’s with my mom.”
As if it’s any of your business.
But of course, she couldn’t say that out loud, no matter how much she wanted to.

“If you aren’t going to take care of her, you shouldn’t have custody of her. My parents are down there, too, and you haven’t let them see her at all.” She’d been waiting for him to bring them into this; in fact, she was surprised he hadn’t before now. His parents thought Ivy was an unfit mother and had tried several times to get her to give Desee up — to them.

“That’s because your parents are included in the restraining order — for stating that they would take Desee away from me in any way they could.” Ivy was proud when her voice didn’t shake.

“You’re keeping Desee away to hurt them, Ivy, and everyone knows it. And you’re screwing her up while you do it.”

Ivy sucked in a breath. She tried; she wanted to be a good parent. And Desee did need grandparents... She swallowed hard.
This is his trick, Ivy. This is how he manipulates you,
she reminded herself.

They never fought about what needed to be dealt with. They fought about everything else he could hurt her with. She needed to get him to focus or she needed to hang up. Somehow she had to learn to protect herself. “What do you want, Vick? What’s the divorce problem?” Her voice sounded steely even to her own ears, and she sat up a little straighter.

He was silent for several seconds. “The judge isn’t sure he has jurisdiction over the case. You have to come back to Alaska.”

Ivy felt her heart turn to ice in her chest.
No
. She choked on a sob. “I have to… come back? But it’s winter. The Alaska Highway is closed,” she whispered. Her nerves of steel and strong voice were gone, obliterated with one sentence.

“Not my problem. You have to be living in the state with Desee for two months before the judge will claim jurisdiction.” She could picture him shrugging, picking at his nails that were always bitten to the quick, like he could care less that he was ruining her life.

Ivy squeezed her eyes shut tight, rubbing her temples where she could feel a migraine coming. Her whole body was shaking and, even in the chilled November air, she was sweating.

Suddenly, the phone was snatched out of her hand. She jerked upright, spinning toward Archer. Raising an eyebrow and giving her a wicked grin, he deliberately pushed the End button.

Ivy’s mouth opened and closed like one of those fish that clean the bottom of the tank, but she didn’t know what to say. Furious with herself, she scrubbed at the tears that soaked her cheeks. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to curl into the fetal position and sob or sink through the bleachers and die of embarrassment.

“You don’t have to talk to him, you know,” he said quietly, all the playful malice gone. He held out his hand, pulling her to her feet, and settled a thick blanket on the bench before sitting on it and patting the seat next to him. She stood there, blinking at him, her mind sluggish. “It’s warmer this way. And more comfortable. Football games are long.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” She gave him a wobbly smile as she sank down next to him.

He grabbed another blanket from the bench on his other side and covered them both with it. “Sorry I’m late. I had issues at work I had to deal with.”

“Oh. Oh no, it’s fine. I’m glad you made it.” Sighing, she rubbed a hand over her eyes again. “I’m a mess. Sorry.”

He smirked. “You look great…” As he trailed off she looked up at him, wondering if he was going to point out that her nose was red or her mascara was smeared all over her cheeks. It was waterproof, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. He hesitated for a second before continuing, “What’d he say that got you so upset?”

Ivy tipped her head to the side, fingering the quilt. It had little tufts of yarn in every square, and she found one to wrap around her finger. “I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”

“I want to help, Ivy. Let me help.” His voice was soft but insistent.

She glanced up at him again, and hiccupped like a lunatic.
Yep, I’ve lost it
. He had such kind eyes. Pretty eyes. She was jealous of his eyelashes. They had to be at least an inch long and so thick. “He said I have to come back to Alaska for two months, or the judge won’t grant our divorce. Something about jurisdiction. And he said I shouldn’t have Desee because I’m not taking care of her.”

Archer sat back, watching her for several seconds. “I would find out about the jurisdiction on your own — don’t take him at his word. I’m sure you can call the court system up there.” Ivy nodded, sniffling, as Archer continued, “And I’ve never seen a single parent so dedicated to her child as you are.”

Ivy looked up at him, hopeful. “Do you think so?”

“Yes. Ivy, I don’t know your circumstances. I don’t know what you’re running from, but I want to help. Whatever you need.” Archer’s eyes were brown, like hers, but lighter, like they had honey in them. Honey was sweet, and maybe that was why they were so kind. To her overwhelmed and frightened brain, it felt like they were emitting some sort of magic power that calmed her frantic heart.

Once again she wondered when, exactly, she had lost her mind. Forcing a weak smile, she turned to the football game, which was already in the second quarter, and she hadn’t even realized it had started. “So. Explain this game to me. ‘Cause it isn’t making any sense at all.”

Archer smiled and winked at her. “No problem. But…” He looked at her quizzically. “Didn’t you play powder-puff in high school?”

Ivy laughed, her first real laugh all day. “Yeah, but we kind of didn’t play by the rules.”

By the end of the game, Ivy had a vague idea of how football was played, even though the she couldn’t keep the ten-thousand incredibly detailed rules straight. What she
was
sure of, though, was that she loved it and couldn’t wait to see more. As they walked to her car after the game, she had almost forgotten her conversation with Vick while she peppered Archer with questions.

He laughed and held up his hands, like it was possible to ward off her attack. “We watch football every Sunday night at my brother’s. You should come.”

Ivy’s heart pounded. Was he asking her out? She glanced at his face, trying to be sneaky while she searched his eyes, but they were just friendly, like always. “That’d be fun.”

She raced through the twenty minute drive home so that she could make it in time for dinner with Desee. While they sat at the table, dodging spaghetti noodles that Desee thought were way more fun to fling than to eat, Ivy filled her parents in on Vick’s phone call, dread in her voice, but no more tears.

“I just don’t think that’s right,” Jack said, shaking his head.

“I hope not.” Ivy sighed, managing to dodge Desee’s sauce-covered hands and guide an entire forkful of noodles to her tiny mouth. Desee sucked the noodles like a little cartoon character and Ivy laughed. Desee grinned proudly before opening her mouth like a baby bird, waiting for more.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Bev said. “People get divorced living in different states all the time. Why would this be any different?”

Ivy shook her head. “I’ll call on Monday. Hopefully I’ll find out something helpful then.” Ivy hated the way her voice shook. She hated how weak she was, and how scared. She hated that she never dared stand up for herself, and it had taken Vick hurting her baby before Ivy had found the courage to leave. Her poor dog, Sadi, still cowered and wet herself whenever someone approached her too quickly. All because Ivy had been too afraid to stand up to him. Somewhere, she had to find the courage to fight him. Or she’d never be truly free.

****

She’d never been to a play before. Even in high school, when she was supposed to go to get credits for class, she’d always snuck out, going to the local restaurant to raise havoc with her friends or do something else she shouldn’t have been doing. So going to a play at a university, where people paid money to see the performance, made her nervous. Add to that the fact that, unlike the football game, this time she had no one to go with. She was left drifting through the building alone, wondering if she was dressed appropriately or if she was even in the right place.

She didn’t know anyone in her class beyond recognizing them as they wandered into the theater. She stood in the foyer, looking first one way and then the next, unsure which way to go. The building was much newer than the others on campus, and beautiful, but also
big
. “Hey, Ivy, right?” The boy suddenly standing next to her had a British accent.

She blinked, caught by surprise. She’d seen him in class several times, but until now she was positive she’d never heard him speak. She was sure she would have remembered that accent. Realizing she was staring stupidly, she nodded. “Yes. Ivy. Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Drew. You look lost.” At least he didn’t seem offended that she hadn’t a clue who he was.

“Very.” She sighed.

“I happen to know this theater well. This way.” He offered his arm with a smile like he’d just stepped out of jolly old England, and she laughed and took it, trying not to cringe away from his touch.
Not everyone that touches you is going to hurt you, Ivy, s
he told herself, aware that he could probably feel the tense grip she had on his forearm.

He led them to seats up in the balcony because, “You can see okay from here, but no one else notices if you’ve fallen asleep.” For the rest of the play, they compared notes on what they thought was happening. Shakespeare’s Greek plays were so tragic. And so confusing. Which shouldn’t have been funny at all, but somehow Drew made it hilarious. Ivy laughed so much her sides hurt, and she hadn’t done that for such a long time.

Chapter Six

Saturday Ivy woke up with a sore throat. By Sunday she had a raging fever and was certain she would die if she was forced to swallow one more time. She sent a text to Archer telling him she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t make it to watch football that night, and she was too sick to feel anything more than mild disappointment. Texting seemed to be a monumental task, and once it was done, she curled up in misery, uncertain whether she would leave her bed alive ever again.

Desee wasn’t used to being away from her mama so much and refused to stay out of the bedroom. For what had to have been the hundredth time, she snuck in and crawled up in bed with Ivy, cuddling against Ivy’s side. Ivy held her breath, trying not to breathe on her baby and share her germs.
If this hurts me so bad, imagine how it would feel to a toddler.
“There you are, you little sneak,” Bev said, poking her head through the door. “How’d you get up here again without me noticing?”

Desee clutched Ivy’s arm. “Mama!” she cried.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Ivy gasped. “We just don’t want you to get sick.”

“Mama! Please?” Desee sobbed.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Ivy whispered.

Bev took Desee out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Ivy shuddered at the thought of Desee being in this much pain, and as she lay there in her bed watching her cherubic little angel reaching desperately over Bev’s shoulders for her mama, tears stained Ivy’s cheeks. In her feverish delirium, Ivy was sure she was going to die and never see her baby again.
Please don’t let me die. If I die, who will protect her from Vick?

A few hours later, Bev peeked in again. Ivy forced an eye open, but that was the most she could do. She’d been in pain before; good grief, she’d been in the hospital before with broken bones and crushed cheekbones, but for some reason this was kicking her butt something fierce. “We’re just going to run some errands with Desee. We’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Bev said, coming in to lay her hand on Ivy’s forehead. She shook her head and mumbled about needing to get Ivy to the doctor and left. Ivy stared at the unicorn poster on her ceiling and prayed for sleep, but it wasn’t coming.

Her phone beeped — a text message, and if her whole body hadn’t hurt, her heart would have sped up at the hope that it was Archer. But it hurt for her heart to beat at all, let alone quickly, so she willed it to beat normally, or even slower than normal, if possible, as she checked the message. It wasn’t from Archer — Gunner was writing to see if she was okay and if she needed anything.
I’m good, thanks.
Lying via text message didn’t count as lying, did it? She paused and then continued typing,
You’re such a good friend.

An hour later, when she was finally dozing off, her phone buzzed again. Half-groaning as she watched sleep disappear through her fingers, and half-hoping it was Archer, she rolled over and reached for the obnoxious little device that seemed intent on making her miserable. “Hello?” she croaked.

“Ivy?” Ivy blinked. Her mom sounded frantic. Never a good sign.

“Hi, Mom.”

“We have sort of a problem.” By the worry in Bev’s voice, Ivy was willing to bet it wasn’t
sort
of anything.

“What’s wrong?” Talking hurt. She wished her mom would just tell her what was going on so Ivy could go back to trying not to die.

“We, uh, locked Desee in the car. And the spare key is there the house.”

Ivy squeaked, which was as much noise as she could make, and even that brought tears to her eyes. “Where are you?” she gasped.

“We’re at the mouth of the canyon. At Playground Sports. We stopped to show Desee the swing sets, and then we put her back in her car seat —”

“Where’s the spare key?” Ivy croaked, cutting her mom off mid-explanation. Playground Sports was about a half-hour away. If she wasn’t speeding. She was already trying to struggle to her feet by the time her mom answered, “It’s in the mudroom, above the washing machine in a jar.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Are you sure? Can you drive?” Ivy leaned against the wall as the room spun.
Nope. Not sure.

In the background, she heard Jack’s voice. “She’s crying. We’ve gotta get in there somehow.”

Ivy gritted her teeth. “I’m coming. Just try to keep her calm.” She shoved tennis shoes on and stumbled down the stairs, terrified of driving and terrified for Desee, trapped in the car in the cold. By the time she made it to her car and put it in drive, she’d forgotten her fear of driving and could only think of her baby, crying and scared and trapped in the car by herself. “I’m coming, baby. I’m coming.”