"I'm sure," Beth said, pulling her hand higher on the broom shaft and continuing to sweep.
Ivy frowned, annoyed at herself for agreeing to the séance. After months of people watching over her, she had interpreted Beth's concern as another example of her friend being overly protective. She should have realized that Beth, too, needed protection from last summer's memories and fears.
They had just finished cleaning up when Aunt Cindy arrived in a yellow rain slicker. "Neither rain, nor snow, nor the gloom of night stops Aunt Cindy" was how Beth had once described her favorite aunt. She was in her late thirties, petite but strong, with a mane of shoulder length hair the same fading red as Dusty's.
"I meant to give you these the other day," Aunt Cindy said, opening a carton with three battery operated camp lanterns. She handed one of them to Will, then eyed the cat. "What's wrong with you, Dusty?"
"The storm spooked him," Ivy answered.
"You've never been afraid of storms before," Aunt Cindy chided her cat. "I think you're faking it. You've discovered a good thing, with four girls here to feed and cuddle you." She turned to Will. "Don't get any ideas. You've got your own place."
Will laughed good naturedly. "And that's where I'm headed."
"Okay, does anyone need anything else?" Aunt Cindy asked. "Nope," Kelsey replied.
"Then I'll see you all at six thirty tomorrow in the kitchen. You've done a great job this week, but tomorrow, when the weekenders come, you'll get your first experience of having a full inn. Get some sleep."
Will sent Ivy a look that was a sweet, long distance kiss, then flicked his eyes to Beth, as if checking on her one more time, and followed Aunt Cindy into the rain.
"KELSEY TOLD AUNT CINDY WHAT?" IVY EXCLAIMED the following evening, as she, Beth, and Will nabbed a table at Olivia's, an ice cream shop in the village of Orleans.
"That she and Dhanya were meeting us here. I told her, if questions were asked, I wasn't covering for them."
"These guys from Chatham," Will said, "how does Kelsey know them?"
"She doesn't," Beth replied. "That's Kelsey for you. Believe me, there's no stopping her—I learned that the hard way during our summers together in middle school."
"Well, she had better come ready to work tomorrow," Will said as they scraped their chairs back on the plank floor. "I'm not picking up the It had been a long day for them, cleaning up from the storm and keeping pace with the constant stream of incoming guests and their assortment of requests. Kelsey had claimed she wasn't feeling well and had returned to the cottage early, miraculously recovering in time for dinner. Both Beth and Dhanya had headaches, but got through on aspirin and tea.
Ivy had skipped tea for some of Aunt Cindy's very potent coffee—the pot kept in the kitchen, not the more guest friendly brew served to visitors. She couldn't remember the dreams that had kept her tossing and turning the night before, except that Tristan was in them.
Once seated at the ice cream shop, Will opened a spiral pad and began to sketch.
'Your friend's late."
"No, we're early," Ivy reassured Beth, who had suddenly gotten nervous about her date and asked Will and Ivy to come along. "You look so pretty." Beth smoothed her hair self consciously. Liking print fabrics of all kinds, Beth sometimes looked as though she was dressed in mismatched wallpaper. But tonight, under the guidance of Dhanya, Beth had kept it simple. Her amethyst pendant, which Ivy and Will had given to her last birthday, accented the violet hue of her blue eyes.
"So when was the last time you saw this guy?" "Middle school. His family has a vacation house here. I didn't recognize him Tuesday, when Mom stopped for gas on the way here, I don't think he recognized me either—just Mom—she always looks the same.
"I don't know how he got so tall," Beth went on, "or so gorgeous. It's like one of my characters came to life!"
"So what does he look like?" Ivy asked, scanning the crowd. "He has dark curly hair—lots of it. A strong jaw. Did I mention he's gorgeous?"
"Several times in the last three days," answered Will.
"Somehow he grew shoulders. I mean, a real chest and shoulders," Beth said, gesturing with her hands. Ivy smiled. "Sounds as if he could be on the cover of a romance novel."
"Along with the shoulders and chest, does he have a brain?" Will asked.
"Yes. He's going to Tufts University."
"So I don't see why you need us here." Will sounded grumpy.
"Well, it's just that I might not be able to think of anything to say."
Will raised his pencil from the paper and stared at her. "Beth, you've been writing romantic dialogue for years!"
"So what does that have to do with talking to a real guy?" she asked.
"You talk to me all the time. Aren't I a real guy?"
Ivy laughed. "Ignore him, Beth. He doesn't get it." Will glanced from Ivy to Beth, then laughed along with Ivy. "I guess I don't," he admitted, and flipped to the back of his sketch pad, where he and Beth tried out new ideas. They were creating a graphic novel—Beth writing the story, Will illustrating it—about Ella the Cat Angel and her sidekick, Lacey Lovett, a human angel, battling forces of evil. Ivy's ten year old brother, Philip, had requested it.
"So, about this new villain," Will said. "it's a serpent," Beth told him. "A serpent." Will nodded. "That's good—kind of biblical."
"A serpent with feet," Beth added. "Excellent," he said, sketching quickly. "That gives us mobility. I'm exaggerating the head so I have room to draw in a lot of expressions."
Beth and Ivy leaned forward, watching the creature emerge from Will's deft strokes. "No, the head's big, but not like that," Beth said suddenly. "He has a human face. He has eyes with lids and a human mouth, though it can stretch horribly like a snake's." She slid her amethyst up and down its chain. "And tiny ears," she added. "He hears vibrations through his belly. He can hear emotions as well as words—that's what makes him so dangerous."
Will glanced up from his sketch at the same time as Ivy. It sounded as if Beth was seeing something and describing it, rather than make up a description.
"His eyes are gray," Beth continued, pulling on her pendant "I was thinking yellow or amber," Will said, "a color like fire."
"They're gray," she insisted. "I'm sure of it."
"Elizabeth!" Ivy and Will turned quickly toward a guy with dark curly hair and gray eyes. Although his tone demanded attention, Beth didn't reply until Ivy nudged her. "Hi, Chase," she said, pushing her hair behind her ear.
"You've brought friends," Chase observed. "Nice."
Will stood up and offered his hand. "Will O'Leary."
"And I'm Ivy."
"My two best friends," Beth said to Chase. "Nice," he repeated. Ivy studied Chase, trying to interpret "nice." Was he stating his approval of Beth's friends, or was he annoyed because she had brought them along? She suspected the latter.
The four of them sat down and a minute of uncomfortable silence followed. Will returned to his sketching, apparently unwilling to contribute any thing to Beth's romantic dialogue.
"Beth told us your family has a vacation house here," Ivy began. "How lucky!"
"Here, and the Keys and Jackson Hole," he said. "Water or snow, it doesn't much matter, as long as I'm skiing."
"Yeah, that's how I used to be," Will said.
Ivy blinked with surprise. Will hated snow, and his dream destinations were the Big Apple and Paris.
"Really," said Chase, but he didn't sound too interested.
"But that was before I had my three surgeries." Ivy knew that the only thing Will had on his medical record was childhood immunizations. Part of her wanted to kick him under the table, remind him to be polite; the other part of her wanted to laugh.
"Oh," Chase responded unenthusiastically.
"The doctors told me I could continue to ski, but if I fell, I might never walk again."
Beth stared at Will. Chase looked as if he didn't know whether to believe him or not.
Ivy shook her head. Will glanced at I
vy, smiling mischievously, and resumed sketching.
"So what beaches and trails do you like best on the Cape?" Ivy asked Chase. "If you come here every summer, you must know them all."
"I love Billingsgate Island. I'm taking Elizabeth there tomorrow."
"You are?" Beth replied with surprise. "Where's that?" Ivy asked. "In the bay, about six miles from Rock Harbor. It used to be occupied—had a lighthouse, homes, a school, and a factory—but it washed away years ago. Now the island surfaces only at low tide." He turned to Beth. "We'll kayak there and have a picnic."
"It sounds awesome," she said quietly, "but I have to work."
"On a Saturday?"
She nodded. "Weekends are the busiest time at an inn."
"Can't someone cover for you?" He looked at Ivy, as if she might volunteer.
"Aunt Cindy needs all of us," Ivy told him.
Will glanced up from his sketch. "So what kind of summer job do you have, Chase?"
He didn't seem to hear Will. "I was hoping you would surprise me with a fantastic lunch, Elizabeth—something you packed just for us."
Perhaps it was the way he said "Elizabeth" that made Ivy leery, like a guy who thought that by speaking a girl's name he could cast a spell over her.
"You would love the island," he went on. "And there's a sunken boat nearby, At low tide, its old ribs rise out of the water. Very mysterious looking. It will inspire one of your stories."
"I'm really sorry, Chase. How about later in the week?"
"I'm busy," he told her.
"What a shame," Will muttered.
Beth's face revealed her disappointment, but she smiled and nodded. "Oh well. Thanks for asking."
A waitress approached them and broke into a smile. "Hey, Chase, long time no see. Back for the summer?"
Chase stretched and let one hand fall to rest on Beth's chair. "Back until the wind blows me another way."
Will pursed his lips as if to make a whistling sound, but the "wind" never blew, because Ivy gave him a swift kick. "Double dip, strawberry and chocolate," she said to the waitress. "How about you, Beth?"
The order came quickly, but it turned out to be the longest ice cream date Ivy had ever endured. One of the things that she loved about Will was that—not counting tonight—he had always been inclusive with her friends and family.
When he and Ivy were with others, he enjoyed the people Ivy enjoyed. But Chase was the opposite, the kind of guy who isolated a girl with his attention.
Even so, Beth seemed taken with him, and Ivy did her best to keep Will from expressing his opinion after they left the ice cream parlor. As soon as Beth climbed in the backseat of Ivy's car, Ivy turned to him. "No comments," she told him quietly. "You're not the one who wants to date him."
"Dam right!" he said, and they both laughed. When they arrived back at the inn's lot. Ivy and Beth were surprised to see Kelsey's red Jeep. They found Dhanya in the kitchen, munching on saltines. "I asked Kelsey to bring me home," Dhanya explained.
"She went back out with the guys."
Beth sat down at the table and pulled three crackers out of the plastic sleeve. "Is your headache making your stomach queasy?"
Dhanya nodded and chewed slowly.
"That's how I felt earlier," Beth said. "Kind of dizzy, too."
"You want me to get Aunt Cindy?" Ivy asked. "She might have something in her medicine cupboard to help you."
"No, she'll want to know where Kelsey is."
Ivy followed Beth and Dhanya up the steep Stairs from the kitchen, carrying a tray of crackers and mugs with decaf tea, placing the snacks by their beds. The cottage's second floor was one long room, with the steps rising next to the massive brick chimney in the center of the space. A small bathroom had been built across from the chimney.
The four beds were tucked in the four corners of the cottage, beneath the sloping roof. Beth's and Ivy's beds were to the left of the steps, Kelsey's and Dhanya's to the right.
"Feels like home," Dhanya said as she pulled her iPod and earbuds out of her purse and climbed into bed. "Thanks, Ivy." Just before Dhanya slipped in the buds, Ivy caught a snatch of the song from Aladdin, and smiled to herself, wondering if Disney was Dhanya's form of retro comfort.
Beth snuggled in her own bed, pulling up a light blanket. June nights were cool on the Cape. Turning on her side, Beth reached toward the chest between her and Ivy, letting her fingers rest on the angel statue. She caught Ivy watching her and smiled a little before closing her eyes.
Ivy lay on her stomach, gazing out the low window between her bed and Beth's.
Last night there was a new moon, and tonight the thinnest scrape of silver hung in the sky. The scent of the Cape Cod night—salt and pine—was stronger than the pale shapes surrounding her, making the everyday objects seem less real. The love she had shared with Tristan was like that, stronger than any emotion she experienced in her everyday life, even her feelings for Will. She still ached from its intensity.
While Ivy couldn't admit it to anyone, she doubted she'd ever fully heal. For reasons she didn't understand, her life had been spared last summer; but she had not been spared the longing she felt for Tristan. The way Tristan had made her laugh, the way he had drawn her into his life, the way he had delighted in her music—how would she ever stop yearning for him?
Ivy wiped her wet cheek against her pillow, then turned on her side and reached out to touch the carved stone angel. A long time after, she fell asleep.
Three
THE NEXT MORNING, WHILE IVY, BETH, AND DHANYA dressed for work, Kelsey slept, the sheet pulled over her head, the soles of her feet poking out the other end. The girls agreed that if they didn't get her up, this was going to be a long summer of them working and Kelsey partying. She was dragged out of bed and made it to the inn's kitchen at 6:33.
The girls and Will served breakfast, then cleaned rooms and laundered towels and sheets. By Sunday noon, the weekend guests had checked out and Beth and her aunt had slipped away to church in Chatham. Beth came back looking pleased with herself. "I found you a piano to practice on, Ivy! A baby grand!"
"Father John said you are welcome to use the one in the church," Aunt Cindy explained. "Just call ahead to make sure someone can unlock the door." Will smiled at Ivy. "We have a whole summer of Sunday picnics ahead of us," he said, guessing how eager she was to be playing again. "We can change our afternoon plans to an evening hike by Chatham's lighthouse and meet at the church."
Ivy gave him a grateful hug. They finished work and, after an early supper, she rushed off with her music books.
It was already sunset inside the timbered and white interior of St. Peter's, with the sun glowing through the stained glass windows that ran along each side of the small church, coloring the walls crimson and gold. A window above the altar, pieced together in deep blues and greens, showed a boat tossed in a storm, with Jesus holding out his hand, inviting Peter to cross the waves.
Ivy's mother chose churches according to the minister rather than the core beliefs, so Ivy had attended a variety of them. She couldn't help but feel at home in this church, with angels roosting in its small side windows and an angel guarding a fisherman in the round window above the entrance. She warmed up on the piano, playing scales, centering herself with each progression, enjoying the rising and falling tide of notes. Hoping she would find a piano, she had asked her teacher for music to work on over the summer. She began with Chopin, loving the feel of the smooth keys beneath her fingers, happily focused in her effort to learn the first movement of the piano concerto.
An hour later, she stretched and stood up. Walking around the small church, she worked her shoulders. The angle of the sun had changed, and the red and gold in the windows burned like dying embers in the growing dusk of the church. Ivy sat down again and played a medley of Philip's favorite songs. It had been really hard to leave her little brother for the summer. She began to play a song that had become special to her and Philip, 'To Where You Are." Philip was sure that it had b
een written about Tristan. The first time Ivy had heard Philip's young voice singing over Josh Groban's, she had cried.
Was Tristan, as the song said, just "a breath away"? Was he still, somehow, watching over her?
Ivy had always prayed to angels, but those angels were not people whom she had actually known and loved. She glanced around at the stained glass windows. Catholics prayed to saints as well as angels, and saints had been everyday people. When she called out for Tristan in her dreams, was she praying to him? Or was she simply missing him?
Last summer, when Tristan returned as an angel, he had heard Ivy. And Ivy, once she began to believe again, had heard him whenever he slipped inside her mind. But once she was safe from Gregory, Tristan had left. He had told her he would love her forever, but he could not stay with her. From that time on, she couldn't see his glow or hear his voice in her head. Could he still hear her? Was he even aware of her existence?
"If you can hear me, Tristan, this is for you." She began to play Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata," the movement she had played for him when they were first together. At the end, she sat still for several minutes, tears running down her face.
"I'm here, Ivy." She turned. "Will!"
He was sitting in the last pew of the church. She hadn't heard him come in. In the deep twilight of the building, she couldn't see his face. He stood up slowly and walked toward her. She quickly wiped away her tears.
When he reached her, he gazed down at her with such sadness in his eyes, she had to look away. He brushed her cheek gently with his hand. "That was the song you played at the arts festival," he said quietly. "It was Tristan's song."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry that you're still hurting."
She nodded silently, afraid that if she spoke, her voice would shake.
"What would you like me to do?" he asked, his voice breaking with emotion.
"Leave? Stay? I can wait outside the church until you are ready, if that would help."
"Stay. Stay, Will. I'm ready to go. Come with me while I return the key to the rectory, then let's take our walk" Will stayed close to her, walking by her side to the car, but didn't take her hand the way he usually did, didn't touch her at all.