"Maybe another time. I have a hot date with my shopaholic mother."
"Well, if Mom supplies the credit card, that's not such a bad date," Kelsey observed.
When she and Dhanya had departed, Beth turned to Ivy. "You're not going with Will?"
"He's kayaking with Philip."
"That's what I meant. I thought you were going Too."
"No." Ivy felt defensive about her choice. "Mom's leaving tomorrow. I want to spend some time with her." Ivy sat on the yard swing and beckoned for her friend to do the same. "Beth, there's something I need to ask you. After the accident, when you looked at me, did you think I was dead?"
Beth's eyes locked on to Ivy's. For a moment she didn't answer. "Why are you asking that?"
"Did you?" Ivy persisted.
"Yes, but I was wrong," Beth said.
"Obviously."
"I remember telling you we had to get out of the car. You acted as if you couldn't hear me, and when I tried to reach for you, my hand passed through yours."
Beth didn't take her eyes from Ivy's. "Then I felt myself floating upward. I remember looking down on you and me, and seeing my body crumpled against the car's frame."
"An out of body experience," Beth said, her eyes wide with interest. "People who flatline and are resuscitated sometimes report having them."
Ivy leaned toward her friend. "Did you see anyone resuscitate me?" Beth shut her eyes for a moment, then rubbed her forehead. "I... I didn't see anyone. I think I blacked out for a few minutes. I remember opening my eyes and seeing a flashing light, and someone leaning over me. I tried to tell them about you, but they told me to stay still. I was being put in an ambulance. I didn't know where you were. They must have been resuscitating you then."
"No… no." Ivy laid her hand on her heart, remembering the moment she felt its wild beating. She couldn't keep her voice from trembling. "It was Tristan."
"What?!" Beth exclaimed.
"I think Tristan saved me."
Beth frowned. "You mean because you called to him, he sent the paramedics—"
"No, I mean Tristan saved me. I heard him. I felt his arms wrap around me. He kissed me."
"Oh, Ivy," Beth said, resting her hands on Ivy's. "He couldn't have. He fulfilled his mission and left you after you were safe from Gregory. The night Suzanne and I spent with you, just before dawn, he said good bye. You told me that!"
"I'm telling you now he was there for me."
Beth shook her head. "It's how your mind has interpreted the experience. Or perhaps you were given a dream of Tristan to comfort you.
"It was him!" Ivy insisted.
"Ivy, don't make it harder for yourself! Tristan is dead and gone."
Ivy pulled her hands away. "I I think it's just the anniversary that's affecting you like this," Beth said, in a quieter voice. "It will be easier once it has passed. But right now, be careful what you say to Will. He told me that— well, just don't hurt him, Ivy. This anniversary and the way it is making you think of Tristan is very hard on Will."
Unexpected anger flared up in Ivy. She didn't need Beth to remind her about Will's feelings. As if she didn't already feel like a traitor!
Ivy turned away, feeling the way she did the weeks following Tristan's death, when people were giving her advice about how to get over him, none of them understanding how painful it was to remember—and how painful it was not to.
"Ivy," her mother called from the back steps of the inn. "You ready? Beth, come with us—girls' day out! I'd love to buy you something pretty."
"Thank you, no," Beth called back. "My headache's back," she said to Ivy without meeting her eyes, then gave a small shrug and retreated to the cottage.
WHEN IVY RETURNED FROM THE SHOPPING TRIP, during which she had successfully distracted her mother from clothes with a search for vintage Sandwich glass, a familiar ringtone sounded on her phone. "Hi, Will."
"Ahoy!" It was Philip's voice.
"Why, shiver me timbers!" Ivy replied. "Where are you, Bluebeard?"
"Uh..."
There was a discussion at the other end with some squawking seagulls in the background, then Will got on the phone and gave Ivy directions to the beach on Pleasant Bay where he and Philip were boating. "Can you come?"
"Just have to change into my suit," Ivy replied. Arriving at the beach with towels, a bag of cookies, and a thermos, Ivy spotted Will and Philip next to the long green kayak that Aunt Cindy had lent them. They were building a castle, both of them wearing red pirate bandanas on their heads and strings of bright Mardi Gras beads around their necks. Intent on their digging and piling of sand, neither of them saw her —or the camp of girls who were admiring Will.
Tan, his muscles glistening with sweat as he worked, Will's artist hands quickly shaped ramparts and towers. He looked up suddenly, his deep brown eyes shining with pleasure.
"Why, here's a lass!" he said. "Avast ye, Bluebeard."
Bluebeard looked up. "She's a scallywag."
"Be nice, you scurvy dog," Ivy said to Philip, "or I won't share my chocolate chip booty."
"Chocolate chips? Ahoy, me hearty!" Will responded. "Let me spread that towel for you." He took her bundles from her, and standing close, bent his head, resting his forehead against hers. "It's good to see you," he said softly. Ivy took off her sunglasses and looked into his eyes.
"Pirates don't do mushy stuff," Philip said.
"Shore leave," Will replied, then kissed Ivy. They spread the towels next to the castle and shared the cookies. Opening a ziplock bag, Will took out a sketch pad and flipped through to a blank page. Pencil in hand, he worked quickly, easily, his eyes moving from paper to Ivy, paper to Ivy.
"I don't really have to look," he said, smiling. "I've got you memorized."
In five minutes he had a sketch of two pirates with a treasure chest between them, a short Bluebeard lifting up a jeweled goblet, a girl pirate lifting up a robe with a feathery hem and collar. Ivy laughed.
"Do you think Lacey and Ella could meet pirates on one of their angel adventures?" Philip asked.
"I'll have to talk to the author, but I think we can arrange that."
Will moved to a fresh page and started drawing more slowly a cluster of trees to their right, working the pattern of their branches against the deep sweep and curve of the bay. He hummed as he drew. His happiness, his joy in that moment, made Ivy ache.
"Philip, want to take a walk?" she asked. Her little brother jumped to his feet.
"Weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen!" he cried.
"Whoa! Where did you get that line?"
"Will."
Will looked up and smiled. "Don't get lost, matey."
Philip looked left and right, then said to Ivy. "That way!" She was glad that he pointed left, toward the spit of sand that pushed out into the bay, creating behind its trees a secluded cove. She walked silently, while Philip, still young enough to talk out his fantasies, strutted and gave orders to his pirate crew. He found rubies and doubloons at the edge of the water. From time to time, he raised his spyglass and saw danger on the horizon.
When they had rounded the point, they came upon a deposit of sea stones, shiny wet and glittering in the late afternoon sun. They knelt down to pick through them. "Philip," Ivy said, trying to sound casual, "you told someone in the hospital to pray to Tristan. Do you still pray to him?"
"Of course."
"And does he answer?"
"You mean, do I hear him?"
"Yes."
"Not anymore. I stopped hearing him after Gregory died." Ivy nodded and continued sorting through the stones, telling herself she shouldn't have expected anything else, and it was silly to be disappointed.
Philip rolled a pebble between his fingers, then discarded it. "I hear Lacey."
Ivy glanced up. "You do? You never mentioned that before!"
"You never asked." Ivy sat back on her heels, thinking. She hadn't sensed Lacey's presence in the house—hadn't seen the telltale purple shimmer that indicated the angel was
mere—so she had assumed that when Tristan said good-bye, Lacey had left too.
Of course, Lacey hadn't liked her; Ivy knew that. Lacey had helped her because Lacey cared about Tristan—was in love with him, Ivy suspected.
"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum," Philip sang, stirring the wet pebbles and sand with his finger. "The doctors told Mom it's a miracle you didn't die."
"Yes, it seems like a miracle. I prayed to"—she hesitated—"an angel." Philip looked up at her, as if he suddenly understood. "Did Lacey help you?"
"I think some angel did," Ivy replied.
"Let's ask her," Philip said. "Lacey!" He stood and raised his hands to the sky. "Hey, Lacey, Lacey, Lacey. C'mon, Lacey, you scallywag!"
There was no response. Philip shrugged, then knelt to continue sorting through the stones. "I guess she's busy."
"Well, blow me down, if it isn't the old buccaneer and his scurvy sister!" a husky voice said.
"Lacey!" Philip replied happily.
"Hi, Lacey," Ivy greeted her, trying not to let the hope seep into her voice. If Lacey was still here—
"Long time no see," Lacey replied to Ivy, "which works for me." Her purple shimmer came close to them, as if she were crouching on the sand. "This one's perfect." A smooth round stone appeared to hop into Philip's hand.
"What's up, Philip? I can't stay long this time got a new gig—an apprentice that doesn't have a due what he's doing."
Philip nodded. "Just a question: Did you save Ivy's life on Sunday night?"
"Excuse me?" She moved away from where Philip and Ivy were kneeling and appeared to dance along the edge of the water. Her shimmer was as delicate as a sea mist, the deep purple of a mollusk shell. "Save Ivy?"
"Beth and I were in a car accident," Ivy explained.
Lacey came closer, circling Ivy, as if studying her. Ivy felt the gentle pressure of fingers against her temple and knew that Lacey was materializing just the tips of them; by the time Tristan had left, he had been able to do that too.
"I've seen paper cuts bigger than that," Lacey said.
"I know," Ivy replied with surging confidence. "Tristan healed me."
"What?"
"Tristan?" Philip asked, sounding surprised as Lacey.
"Not possible," the angel said adamantly. "Last time I was with Tristan, he was headed to the Light. He had fulfilled his mission—thanks to me," she added. "By now, he's far beyond all of us, hanging out with Number One Director, I'm sure."
"But I felt his arms around me," Ivy insisted and recounted the details of the accident. When she described looking down at her body in the crushed car, then rising the starry night, Lacey's purple mist held perfectly still. For a full thirty seconds after Ivy finished, Lacey was uncharacteristically silent.
Ivy thought she might have stopped listening halfway through until Lacey spat out, "Unbelievable. Unbelievable!"
Small stones, one after another, were lifted by an invisible hand and hurled into the water. "Hey!" Philip cried, "that was my best one!"
"Sorry." The shower of stones stopped. "I just hope you were hallucinating," Lacey said to Ivy, "because if what you're describing really happened, there's going to be serious fallout."
Ivy frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Angels can't go around giving the kiss of life."
The kiss of life, Ivy repeated to herself, recalling how, when Tristan kissed her, she was suddenly aware of her heart beating. "It's against the rules."
"How do you know?" Ivy asked Lacey. "How do I know? Look at me. What d'ya see?"
"Fog with an attitude," Ivy replied.
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Give me a second..."
Lacey materialized herself, then strutted up and down the shore in her ripped leggings and long tank top.
"Like my new hair?" she asked, shaking her head. It was tinged purple, long and straight, with blunt cut bangs. "I picked up a few more skills since we last had the pleasure of working together."
"Wow!" Philip exclaimed, reaching out to touch the angel. "The whole you! You're awesome, Lacey!"
"Thanks, kid." She turned to Ivy. "For three years I've successfully put off my mission by breaking the rules. If I'm not the expert on forbidden acts, who is? I'm telling you—Number One Director does not like his cast members changing the script. There will be repercussions."
"Because Tristan saved me?" Ivy argued.
"I guess you weren't listening in Sunday school. Don't you remember the fallen angels story? They wanted to be like God, just like God. It's God's privilege, not ours, to give and take life."
Ivy didn't reply. Would Tristan do something forbidden for her sake?
Lacey's mouth curved in disgust. "Only you could get a guy killed, and one year later, put his soul in jeopardy!"
Ivy and Philip watched as the angel's body faded into sand, ocean, and sky.
Philip laid his hand on Ivy's arm. "Maybe you just dreamed it."
"Maybe," she replied, but the words rang hollow, even to her.
Eight
ON THE WALK BACK FROM THE COVE, IVY ASKED Philip not to mention to anyone that Tristan had helped her.
"Not even Will?"
It had upset Will just to hear her playing Tristan's song. No, I'll tell him myself in a little while. It's best not to mention Lacey either," she added Ivy was relieved when Philip and her mother left on Wednesday morning. Taking off the fitted silk blouse her mother had picked out for her, she pulled on a tie dyed T-shirt, an X Large that was leftover from a school fund raiser.
For the first time in her life, Ivy was uneasy around Will. Every time he looked at her, she feared he could read her thoughts—and see Tristan there. She trod carefully around Beth and sensed that Beth was being careful around her too.
Kelsey and Dhanya, wrapped up in the guys from Chatham, spent most of their time there, which was fine with Ivy. Her most comfortable companion was Dusty the cat.
On Friday, Will drove Ivy to Hyannis to pick up a rental car, which she would use until the insurance for her totaled car was processed. "You're so quiet?' he said when they stopped at a traffic light. "Are you worried about something?"
"No." Her response sounded short and stiff, but Ivy couldn't think of a single word to add to it. "No," she repeated.
Will turned in his seat to study her. ('Light's green," she told him. He nodded and drove on. "You know, Ivy, it's natural to be a little nervous about driving again."
"I'm not nervous." She saw the tightening in his jaw and realized Will felt as if his thoughtfulness had been rebuffed. "Because . . . it's daytime," she added lamely. "So, I guess it doesn't bother me— the way it might if it were dark, as it was when the accident happened."
They were silent the rest of the way. Standing together in the hot parking lot, waiting for the rental car, Will rattled his car keys and said, "I'll go with you to your appointment at the hospital, and then maybe we can stop for—"
"Thanks, that's not necessary.' He squinted at her. "You haven't driven since the accident. Suppose a car coming from the opposite direction gets too close to the center line. You don't know how you're going to react."
"I'll be okay, Will."
"What if I follow you as far as the hospital, but not all the way home," he suggested.
Ivy shielded her eyes from the sun and the metallic glare of the cars. "I can handle it."
"Ivy, you were in a really serious accident. There's a reason the specialist wants to check you one more time, and I would like to be there. Okay?" He placed his hands on her shoulders. Ivy pulled back, then saw the surprise in Will's eyes.
Since the night they had come together to fight Gregory, she had never pulled away from his touch. "I'm fine," she insisted.
He shook his head. "You haven't been yourself since the accident. Beth has noticed it too." Ivy prickled. "What do you and Beth do, spend your time talking about me?" Excuse us for caring!"
"I need some space, Will!'' His face paled beneath his suntan. "Space . . . from me?" She hesitated. "From everyon
e. We're living in awfully close quarters." She could almost convince herself that this was the problem.
"Fine." He took two steps back from her and held out his arms, as if giving her spacer "Fine." Then he turned and strode to his car. He turned to her one last time, but Ivy didn't call him back as he may have expected, and he drove off quickly.
"Ready, Ms. Lyons?" the rental agent asked, arriving with a key. "Got you a new Beetle." She picked up the shopping bag that she had filled with homemade bread, jam, and cookies— gifts for Andy—then followed the agent across the lot.
An hour later, the doctor told Ivy she would send the test results when they came back, but that everything was looking good. "The folks from EMS are still shaking their heads in amazement," the doctor said. "It's nice to give someone such good news."
Afterward, Ivy took the elevator up to the sixth floor and waited for Andy at the nurses' station. He emerged from the room next to the one she had occupied, looking perplexed. "Has anyone seen Guy? That boy sure keeps me on my toes."
"Not for a half hour or so," a dark haired nurse answered. "Hey, look who it is!"
Andy's face broke into a smile. "Back for a follow up?"
"And to give you this thank you," Ivy said. Andy peeked into the shopping bag, then pulled out the bread. Even in its wrapping, they could smell the tangy sweetness of the apple cranberry loaf. Then he took out the tin of cookies and lifted the lid. "Yum."
"It's all homemade. Aunt Cindy does her own cooking for the Seabright."
"You're going to share, aren't you?" the dark haired nurse asked Andy.
"Maybe," he replied with a grin. He and Ivy talked for a few minutes, then she walked to the elevator, contemplating the afternoon ahead of her. She wanted to drive for miles, perhaps to the tip of Cape Cod, and get out on the beach and run.
She pressed the elevator's down button three times, then spotted an exit sign and headed for the stairway door. Raring down the steps. Ivy enjoyed the loud smack of her feet against the concrete surface. Holding on to the metal railing, she swung around the corners of each landing, as Philip would have. She didn't see the person crouched on the steps, not until she slammed into him. She tumbled forward and he flung out his arms.