"I did." Ivy replied.
Guy kept his eyes on her. "I brought you some flowers."
He held a bouquet wrapped in florist paper behind him, as if uncertain about offering it. Ivy smiled and stood up, holding out her hands. "Oh!' She looked from the roses to Guy, tears stinging her eyes. "They're lavender."
"I did the wrong thing," Guy said, quickly pulling them away. Ivy reached for the flowers, her hands catching and holding his.
"No! No, they're perfect." She looked into his eyes. "How did you know that—that I love lavender roses?"
He shrugged. "They just seemed right for you."
"They're beautiful. Thank you," Ivy said, cradling the flowers in her arms.
"My parents gave me lavender roses for my sixteenth birthday," Dhanya interjected. "I get a different color each year. And always the number of years I am."
"Before Princess Dhanya tells us the details of each of her very special birthday celebrations," Kelsey said, "grab a soda, Guy. Let's get this wake going."
Ivy made room on her blanket. Guy sat next to her, across from Will and Beth.
Will spoke about Tristan as a top rated swimmer and Ivy recalled the day Suzanne and Beth had dragged her to her first school meet to watch him compete. "Can I look at the pictures you brought?" Dhanya asked.
Beth passed the album, and Dhanya started turning pages. "Hey, who's this gorgeous guy?" She carried the book over to Ivy, placing it on her lap and squeezing onto the blanket next to her. "Gregory."
Ivy heard Beth draw in her breath. Will dropped his head and stared at the fire.
"The murderer? Let me see," Kelsey said, scooting sideways and leaning over them. "He doesn't look like a murderer."
"What does a murderer look like?" Beth replied sharply. "How can anyone tell?"
"For one thing," Kelsey said, "there should be cruelty in either his eyes or his mouth. I can't see them in these little pictures."
"Ivy, that's you—in that cheesy dress!" Dhanya exclaimed. "Tell me you didn't choose it."
"I didn't. This is Tristan," Ivy said, pointing to a photo of a table of wedding guests, which Tristan happened to be passing. Guy leaned closer to study the picture, but she saw no flicker of recognition on his face.
"The Tristan?" Dhanya asked. "But he's just a waiter!"
Ivy laughed and told them about her mother's wedding and Tristan's short-lived catering career. "I think it was love at first sight for my little brother, if not for me."
Guy pointed to her brother in another photo. "Philip. I recognize him." Ivy's heart skipped a beat. Then she remembered they had met at the hospital.
"He's a cute kid." Kelsey said, returning to her own blanket and flopping back to stare up at the darkening sky. Dhanya turned the page. "Beth, your hair's different. I like it better now."
Dhanya was looking at the picture of Beth, Tristan, and Ella. "I gave Ella to Tristan," Ivy explained to Guy. "I had to give her up and Tristan answered my ad. He knew nothing about cats, but he assured me he'd take good care of her—said he'd 'wash' and feed her." Guy smiled.
"That was just a ploy to see you."
"Yes. But he soon got attached to her," Ivy replied.
"Where's Ella now?" Guy asked.
"Gregory hanged her," Beth said.
Dhanya gasped. Kelsey let out a low whistle. Will threw a stick in the fire.
"Any which way he could get you." Guy remarked.
"Yes, if it hadn't been for Will, Gregory would have succeeded. Will risked his life for me. He saved me." Will stared into the flames. Rising to her feet, Ivy went to him. Kneeling close, she put her arms around him. For a minute, he rested back against her, laying his hand over hers.
When Ivy looked up, Guy had shut the album and was watching them from across the bonfire. Dhanya sniffled loudly.
Kelsey sat up. "Dhanya, you're crying for a cat and a guy you don't even know."
"I know Ivy and Will," Dhanya replied.
"If somebody doesn't get cheerful around here," Kelsey said, "I'm leaving." No one said anything cheerful. "All right, boys and girls, I'm out of here. You coming, Dhanya?"
Dhanya shook her head no. "I'll go with you," Beth said, standing up. Will and Ivy looked at her surprised. "It's over. Tristan is gone." Beth told them, tossing her bouquet of salvia into the fire.
It flared, flames leaping skyward :far a moment, then dropped back. A shower off sparks, darkening to cinders, made Ivy think of falling stars.
"Rest in peace, Tristan," Will said softly.
Twenty two
WILL AND IVY BURIED THE FIRE AN HOUR LATER. IVY wished she could ride home on the back of Guy's motorbike, but she could see that Will was still hurting and would feel betrayed if she didn't return with him and Dhanya.
All of them went to bed early, and Ivy slept solidly until three a.m., when she was jolted awake. Opening her eyes, she became instantly alert, as if someone had called to her.
She sat up, listening intently. Beth, Dhanya, and Kelsey remained asleep. Ivy knelt by the window, pressing her face against the screen, but she neither saw nor heard anyone outside.
Rising to her feet, she slipped on her T-shirt and jeans, then picked up her shoes and wallet, and tiptoed down the steps. Outside the cottage the full moon was high, silvering the garden. Ivy paused only a moment to take in the quiet night, then walked to her car with purpose, as if she had planned hours ago to return to Race Point.
She coasted in neutral with her headlights off until she reached the paved road, then flicked them on and drove. There was a part of Ivy that stood outside herself, wondering at her own actions.
This feeling of being called—had it come from a dream? All she knew was that whatever had awakened her, it was something beyond herself.
Ivy left her car in an empty lot at Race Point and walked toward the sea. The rich colors of sunset and bonfire had burned away. The landscape of dune and ocean, bathed in the light of the moon, seemed otherworldly. "I knew you'd come."
At the sound of Guy's voice. Ivy's heart stopped. Guy had followed her from the path through the dunes. In the moonlight his fair hair was tarnished silver.
''Did you? How?"
"I couldn't sleep, and I kept thinking. She's going back. I have to be there." He stopped six inches from her. "What made you return?" he asked.
"I don't know. I felt like I was being called." They walked together to the fire pit.
Ivy had left a single lavender rose on top of the buried fire. Picking it up, she touched its velvet petals with one finger. "He brought you lavender roses," Guy said.
"You knew that?"
"When I saw the expression on your face, I knew." Ivy dropped her eyes.
"I was trying to help," Guy told her. "I'm sorry if I made you hurt more."
"You didn't. It felt like—a kind of miracle—getting those roses. It felt like ... a message from Tristan."
Guy reached for her hand. "Come here. I found a good place to sit." He led her to a sheltered spot between sandy knolls that rustled with beach grass. Sitting on the sand, they rested their backs against a bleached log.
"When you and Will were talking about Tristan," Guy said, "I felt like I knew him." Ivy gazed into Guy's eyes hopefully. "How did Tristan die?" he asked.
"Gregory cut his car's brake line," Ivy replied. "We were driving on a winding road, and there was a deer, and another car. We couldn't stop. I lived. Tristan didn't." She searched Guy's face for a flicker of recognition, but he looked away before she could read his eyes. "Was Gregory jealous of Tristan?" he asked. "Was Gregory in love with you?"
"No, I was the target. I had run into Gregory the night he killed his mother and—"
"His mother!"
"—he thought that I knew he had done it."
"Even so," Guy said, "was Gregory in love with you?"
"For a while he pretended to care. I would wake up from terrible dreams, and he would be there. He was so gentle with me. He would hold me until I went back to sleep."
/> "So, maybe—"
"No. At the end it was clear—Gregory hated me."
"Love can fuel hate," Guy observed He drew a triangle in the sand and traced it twice, frowning. "What is it?" Ivy asked. He shook his head.
"I don't know. Sometimes something seems familiar, and then I lose the thread again."
Ivy reached and smoothed his cheek with the backs of her fingers. "I'm haunted by a past I can't forget, and you're haunted by a past you can't remember."
Guy encircled her with his arms. "So. let's live in the present. Every moment I have with you feels like a gift."
They leaned against the log, gazing up at the stars. His tender kiss became a passionate one. After a while, Guy took off his shirt and spread it on the sand, then lay back on the edge of it, leaving most of the soft fabric for Ivy. She lay down and rested against his chest.
"Sleep, now." he said, holding her securely in his arms. "We're together now. Sleep."
IVY AWOKE TO A SKY STREAKED WITH PEACH AND pink in the east. Guy's arms were still around her, his eyes closed. She slid onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow, studying his face, the golden lashes and rough beard.
With one finger she traced the shape of his lips. His eyes opened. "Good morning," he said softly. "How'd you sleep?"
"Great. I found a good pillow. How about you?"
He raised himself far enough to kiss her shoulder. *I found a sleep mate who doesn't have fleas." She shoved him down, laughing. "What time do you have to be at work?" he asked.
"Work!" Ivy sat up and fumbled for her cell phone. It was dead. "Do you know what time it is?"
Guy pulled his phone from his pocket. "A little after five."
"The inn's almost an hour away, and I start work at six thirty!"
"Back to reality," Guy said, rising to his feet, then extending a hand to her. She picked up his shirt and shook it clean.
Guy, who had parked his motorbike by the visitors' center, caught up with Ivy and followed her down Route 6. By the time they arrived at the Seabright's lot, the sun was shooting yellow rays through gaps in the dark scrub pine. Climbing off his bike, Guy checked his phone again. "Five fifty eight," he told her.
Ivy leaned against her car, reluctant to say good bye. "You know, Beth has always said that cars are like clothes—details that develop a story's character."
"And?"
"What kind of car would you like to drive?" she asked.
"Something with a lot of horsepower that looks good with dents." Ivy grinned. Hand in hand, they walked the path toward the cottage.
"What do you think you did drive?"
"Probably somebody else's old car. Like my parents' or—I don't even know—"
His voice cracked. "I don't even know if I have parents."
"What kind of parents would you want to have? How about a mother who's a doctor?" Ivy felt Guy pull back. "That's dangerous. Ivy."
"What is?" she asked defensively.
"Imagining things about me. I don't want to get confused. I don't want to mix up what really happened with the things that I want"—he hesitated—"that I want so badly to be true."
What do you want to be true? Ivy was about to ask, then she saw him turn his head toward the cottage.
Beth sat on the swing. Will on the doorstep, both of them with arms folded.
"Where have you been?" Beth asked, her voice hard.
"Race Point," Ivy replied.
"Why did you go back? Why did he?" Ivy bit back anger at Beth's reference to Guy in the third person.
"We wanted to."
Will stood up abruptly and strode away without a word. Beth rose from the swing. At the same time Kelsey appeared at the cottage's door, still wearing her satin nightie.
"Well, well, well," she said, holding open the screen door. "Ivy, the good girl, who'd never sneak off on a midnight adventure, returns at dawn." Kelsey winked at Guy. "Looks to me like Ivy had a lot better night than we did."
Beth pushed her way past Kelsey, entering the cottage. Kelsey glanced over her shoulder, then said, "You owe me, Ivy, for not letting Beth run to Aunt Cindy, getting you in a heap of trouble. And you owe me and Dhanya for a lost hour of sleep. Beth was hysterical."
Ivy turned to Guy. "You had better go," she said softly. "Talk to you later, okay?" He squeezed her hand and silently headed back to the lot. A half hour later, Ivy was the last one to arrive at the inn's kitchen, dressed for work.
It must have been obvious from Will's grim expression, Beth's stiffness, the gleam in Kelsey's eye, and the furtive glances from Dhanya that something had occurred overnight. Aunt Cindy quickly assessed them, and instead of assigning jobs said, "Today I'll need one of you in the garden, one with me for breakfast, one cleaning the room that was vacated late, and two to wash down the porch. Figure it out." Then she left them to make her usual pot of high powered coffee.
Ivy, wanting to be away from the others, chose the least favorite job, cleaning the room. With work light that morning, all of them finished up early. Ivy headed for the beach below the inn. She walked halfway down the fifty two wood steps that descended the bluff and sat for a few minutes on the landing with the benches.
She wanted to think about Guy, to remember each sweet moment with him, to run through every sign that Tristan had come back to her. After a while, she descended the remainder of the steps and walked by the water.
Darker thoughts began to creep into her mind. What if Lacey was right, Ivy wondered, and Tristan had done something forbidden when he saved her? If he was hiding inside of Guy, could her loving Guy damn Tristan's soul forever?
At last she returned to the inn and climbed the steps, deep in thought.
"Ivy."
Lifting her head, she saw Beth and Will standing on the landing. Grim faced, shoulder to shoulder, they made Ivy think of sword bearing angels forbidding Adam and Eve's return to Eden.
"Excuse me," Ivy said, trying to get past them.
They blocked her way. "We need to talk," Will said. "Things have gone too far." Ivy blinked.
"What is this, an intervention?"
"Call it whatever you want," he replied. "We're doing it because we care. Ivy, you're not making good decisions."
"You're taking huge risks!' Beth said.
"I'm taking the same risk as anyone who has ever loved a person."
Beth shook her head. "But you don't know who Guy is."
"Actually, I believe I know Guy better than he knows himself."
"Which," Will reminded her, "is just what you said about Gregory when his mother was found dead. You felt sorry for him and made excuses for his reckless ways. You said that living with him, you understood him. Now you're making excuses for Guy."
"You're making excuses for a person who can't remember why he was in a fight brutal enough to kill him," Beth added. "For all you know," Will said, "Guy could have killed someone and been beaten up in the process."
"That's crazy!" Ivy exclaimed. "As crazy as thinking Guy was the driver who ran Beth and me off the road!"
"Ivy, he's pretending he can't remember. Why are you so gullible?" Will cried.
"And why are you so ready to think the worst of someone?" she countered.
"I got an e-mail from Suzanne." Beth said quietly.
"You did?" Ivy leaned against the railing, feeling suddenly worn down by the arguing.
"She's been dreaming about Gregory." Ivy thought for a moment.
"That's not surprising."
"She's been dreaming about him for the last two weeks."
"Beth, all of us have been thinking about Gregory and Tristan for the last two weeks," Ivy pointed out.
"I read the e-mails," Will said. "Suzanne can't remember the dreams—she just knows she's talking to Gregory."
"In the dreams, you mean," Ivy responded. "She's reliving past scenes."
Will clenched his fists with impatience. "I said she can't remember the dreams. But she feels like he is haunting her."
Ivy looked from one to
the other. Will's forehead was beaded with perspiration.
Beth's fingers pinched her amethyst so hard, their tips had turned bloodless white.
"It was bound to happen," Ivy reasoned. "When Gregory died and the truth came out, Suzanne handled it 'beautifully' as everyone said. But there's no way a person can handle that kind of situation 'beautifully.' It's a nightmare and it will produce nightmares, and it will not go away until it has. There is no shortcut to healing from it. Suzanne is finally doing that now."
"No. Gregory is back," Beth insisted, taking two steps down to Ivy. She laid a cold hand on her arm. "Ivy, you almost lost your life two weeks ago —in a car accident, just like the one Gregory caused last year. What will it take for you to believe me?"
Ivy pulled her arm free and slipped through the gap between her friends. "Your imagination's running away with you, Beth. You and Will have made up your minds, and you're not even trying to listen to me."
"I'm listening," Beth called over her shoulder. "And I hear things that you cannot."
Twenty three
IT FELT STRANGE, BEING AT ODDS WITH HER TWO best friends. Ivy was worried about Beth, but there was no point in discussing her concerns with Will, not now, when he was convinced that Ivy was the one going off the deep end.
Late that afternoon, having made plans to go with Guy to a summer carnival, Ivy went upstairs to look for something special to wear. She found Beth pacing the bedroom, her cell phone pressed to her ear.
"No, I'm busy," Beth said to the caller. "I've already made plans for tonight."
Listening for a moment, Beth frowned. "I never said that, Chase. . . . No, you can't come with me."
Seeing Ivy, Beth turned her back and hunched over the phone.
Ivy watched her for a moment in the mirror, then continued toward her bureau.
"Sorry, I have to go," Beth said, and clicked off the phone.
Ivy glanced over her shoulder. A week ago, she would have sat on the bed, patted the place next to her, and asked her friend, How's everything? Now she gazed silently at Beth, who frowned at her image in the mirror, wriggling her shoulders as if she had touched something distasteful, and headed downstairs.