Evercrossed (8 page)

Eleven

PHILIP HAD REACHED OUT TO GUY AT THE HOSPITAL, IVY thought on her way back to the cottage, just as she had. Her instincts were right; both she and Philip were meant to find and help Guy. Ivy smiled to herself; maybe they were Guy's "angels."

"I need some clothes," Guy called to Ivy from the second floor of the cottage.

Ivy walked as far as the kitchen. "They take longer to wash than you do," she called from the base of the steps. "That's what the beach towel's for. When you come down, help yourself to anything you want to eat."

She returned to the living room to work on a large puzzle, one of the many Aunt Cindy kept for rainy days at the inn. After clearing the coffee table, she sat on the sofa and studied the box top, which showed a painting of an idyllic New England town and bridge. Sorting through the jigsaw box, she pulled out green pieces with straight edges.

Guy came in a few minutes later, munching an apple. His hair was still wet, darker than its usual streaky gold. Ivy's beach towel hung on him like a low-waisted skirt, leaving little to the imagination about his upper body strength—or his injuries. It took all of her self discipline not to stare at him.

"Where should I sit?" he asked.

"Wherever you want." He glanced down at the puzzle box, then sat in an armchair that faced the coffee table, making an L with the sofa. Ivy, having extracted a small pile of green puzzle pieces, handed him the box, hoping the puzzle would take his mind off things. As Guy sorted through the contents, pulling out straight edged pieces of blue sky, he started to hum off key, which made Ivy smile.

"Are you laughing at me?" he asked. She met his bright eyes. "I wouldn't dare . ..

What is that song?"

"You can't tell?" He grinned at her. "Neither can I." She tried humming what she had just heard, adjusting the flat notes, then said suddenly, "'If I Loved You."

Guy looked up at her, startled.

"It's the title," she explained, and sang the first three lines for him. He laughed.

"Oh, yeah, now I recognize it."

"It's from—" Ivy's hand went up to her mouth as she remembered.

"From what?"

"Carousel" she answered softly. Last year, when attempting to communicate with her as an angel, Tristan had played on her piano the first few notes of a song from Carousel.

"Do you like musicals?" she asked Guy, pulling herself back to the present.

"I guess I do."

They continued working on the puzzle. Ivy musing over the strange connection between events. "Here's one of yours," Guy said, suddenly leaning close to her, placing the green piece he had found next to those she had gathered.

Ivy was caught off guard—she couldn't explain it, the feeling that swept through her at that moment. She became acutely aware of Guy, felt his nearness like a kind of heat inside her. Astonished, she sat back quickly. She thought about getting up, putting distance between them. But confusion and pride kept her cemented in place. She touched her cheeks, afraid they had turned a warm pink.

"Got another." He leaned across her. An overwhelming sense of him passed through her like a wave, making her light headed. This was crazy! Ivy snapped together two pieces, then added a third.

"I think you forced that last one," Guy observed.

She pulled off the wiggly piece. "I know that!" Perhaps the crispness of her response made him raise his head to study her. His face was three inches from hers. She tried to pull her eyes away, but couldn't. He lowered his eyes. She felt him staring at her mouth. If it were possible for a gaze to be a kiss—

"Hey, I'm back!"

Ivy knocked over the box full of puzzle pieces. About one thousand four hundred little pieces scattered on the floor. "Oh! Hey, Will," she replied, scooping up pieces as he came through the screen door.

Guy leaned over to pick up the box that had fallen between him and Ivy. Will stopped in his tracks. Glancing down. Ivy realized what Will saw from his perspective: a bare back and broad, muscular shoulders. "Who are you?" Will asked.

Guy straightened up, rose to his feet, then quickly hiked up his towel. Will continued to stare at him, his eyes noting the injuries. Guy gazed back.

"I
said,
who are you?"

"Guy is the name I go by."

"Guy has just gotten out of the hospital," Ivy explained. "He was on the same floor as me."

"Was he?" Will replied tersely. To Guy he said, "I assume you left the hospital wearing something other than Ivy's towel."

Guy grinned. "Yeah, I left wearing her shirt." Will didn't seem to find that amusing.

"It's a long story," Ivy said.

"I've got time."

"Guy doesn't have a place to live right now," Ivy explained to Will. "He's been dealing with a lot. I told him he could take a shower here. His clothes are in the wash. It's the least we could do for him."

"Yeah, I can see he's dealing with a lot," Will remarked sarcastically, then set down his packages. Ivy felt bad, knowing he had dropped by the cottage first, excited about what he had bought at the art supply store and wanting to show her.

"The problem is, I can't remember what happened to me," Guy said. The way Will tilted back his head made it clear he didn't believe Guy.

"Will, he can't remember who he is or where he lives," Ivy added, pleading for understanding.

"That's convenient," Will remarked.

"Not when it rains," Guy replied.

"I heard about you," Will said, "from Kelsey and Dhanya. Funny thing, Ivy didn't mention you at all." Guy looked from Will to Ivy, then back again. "And nobody seems to be missing you," Will went on. "I wonder why a nice guy like you hasn't been reported missing by friends or family."

Guy nodded calmly. "It would make you think they're glad to be rid of me."

"It hasn't been that long," Ivy said quickly. "Just since Sunday—a week. Maybe your friends and family think you're away on a trip and they haven't been expecting to see or hear from you."

Will turned to Ivy with a look that said,
You're crazy to buy this story.

Guy gave her a sardonic smile. "How did you get to the hospital?" Will asked Guy.

"Some people walking a dog found me unconscious and called an ambulance."

"Found you where?"

"Lighthouse Beach," Guy replied.

"In Chatham? Last Sunday, in Chatham?"

"Monday, really," Guy corrected him. "Just after midnight."

"Must have been one helluva busy night for the EMS!"

Guy frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I sure hope you didn't meet up with another car on Morris Island."

"Will!" Ivy said, recognizing the accusation behind his statement. "That's ridiculous! They never found the car that hit us."

"And they never found out who this guy is," Will responded, "or why he can't remember anything, and why he was lying unconscious a short distance from where your car was totaled." Will paced the room, then stopped and turned toward Guy. "I'm sure you have a good reason for leaving the hospital wearing Ivy's shirt. I'd think it would be a little small for you."

"It was," Guy said. Ivy recounted the situation seeing that with each detail she gave. Will was growing angrier.

"Let me get this straight," Will said incredulously. "You helped him sneak out of the hospital before he was released by his doctor—probably still needing medical attention, and before, of course, he paid any bills."

"I followed my instinct," Ivy replied, feeling defensive. "I took a chance on another person. Maybe you should try it sometime!" She saw the hurt on Will's face.

Guy leaned forward slightly, catching her attention. "You said the laundry room was off the kitchen?"

"Yes." He nodded and headed out the door. "Will—Will, I'm sorry," Ivy said. "I see how upset you are. I just... felt so bad for him." Will swallowed hard.

"You remember how terrible it was for me last summer, when I couldn't remember things—when everyone else thought I'd tried to kill myself, when I couldn't explain how I'd gotten to the train station. You were so good to me. You believed in me when nobody else did. You took care of me. Guy has no one to believe in or care for him."

"The difference is," Will said quietly, "I already knew you. I knew the kind of person you were."

Ivy nodded. "Yes, yes, you've got a point. I admit ... I acted irrationally." She didn't add that, given the chance, she'd do it again.

Will walked over and sat on the sofa next to Ivy. He put his arms around her, pulling her close to him. "Sometimes, Ivy, you scare the hell out of me."

Twelve

"
DO YOU THINK GUY WILL COME BACK?" BETH ASKED
,
a half hour later as she and Ivy walked through the fruit trees along the path to the inn's parking lot.

"I don't know." Ivy looked over her shoulder at the cottage swing, where she had left Guy's backpack. After exchanging apologies with Will, she had checked the laundry room. Guy, his money, the angel coin, and all his wet clothes had disappeared. The red towel had been left on the washer, and the backpack in the cottage.

"He's staying at Nickerson State Park, which is a long walk from here," Ivy told Beth.

"We could take his pack and bedroll to the visitors' center. Maybe they have a lost and found."

Ivy shook her head. "Guy's not the kind to check it out He pretty much stays out of sight." Beth looked at Ivy sharply. "Why?"

"Just does." Beth frowned, but she didn't say anything more. Ivy was sure that Will had told Beth about his meeting with Guy. Beth had relayed to Ivy Will's excuse for not joining them in Provincetown, claiming he was anxious to work with his new watercolor paper. But Ivy knew how much Will had wanted to see the town, an artists' haven. Despite the apologies, he was still upset.

The hour long ride to the end of the Cape was uncomfortably quiet. Ivy changed CDs several times, as if she could find the right music to regain the easy connection she usually felt with Beth, and was glad when they finally pulled into a parking space.

Provincetown was as colorful and quirky as advertised. Ivy and Beth strolled in and out of the small shops and galleries that crowded its narrow streets. On the surface it seemed as if things were returning to normal between them, as they pointed out to each other the paintings they liked, the odd pieces of sculpture, and handcrafted jewelry made of mystical sea glass. At about five thirty Ivy and Beth bought two raspberry iced teas and carried them to the breakwater at the end of town. Its black boulders, flat on top, stretched a mile across Provincetown Harbor, making a rocky footpath to Long Point beach on the curling fingertip of Cape Cod. Just beyond halfway, the point at which most walkers turned back, they sat down on a smooth rock. Behind them were the crescent of Provincetown's low buildings and the tall needle of Pilgrim Monument. Ahead were the lighthouses of Wood End and Long Point.

Ivy played with her straw, then dove into the conversation she felt they couldn't avoid any longer. "I guess Will told you about the fight." Beth glanced sideways at her.

"Yeah."

"I was surprised at Will, the way he acted toward Guy."

"How did you expect him to act?" Beth asked. Ivy heard the prickliness in her friend's voice.

"Understanding. Guy's in a really bad situation." Beth didn't reply.

"He doesn't know who he is or where he belongs. He tries not to show it but he's scared. You can understand that, can't you?" After a moment, Beth nodded.

"Guy has no idea what happened to him. Beth, I need a favor. Would you use your psychic gift like you did last year for me, and touch the clothes Guy was wearing when he was found, to see if you could access clues about what happened? Would you help him?"

"Help him?" She sounded angry—disdainful— not like Beth.

"Yes, him. Beth, you can't automatically adopt Will's view of others."

"I don't," she snapped.

"I'm sorry," Ivy replied, "but in this case, you are blindly accepting what Will says. How can you judge Guy? You haven't even met him."

"How can you trust Guy?" Beth countered. "You don't even know his name."

"But I know his . . . heart," Ivy said. "I'm not psychic like you, but I can sense the goodness in him."

"Will told me that you helped Guy sneak out of the hospital—skip out without paying bills, and worse, leave without understanding why he was there. Ivy, he was in a violent fight—Will saw his bruises and the cut along his throat." Ivy looked away.

"For all you know," Beth continued, "Guy could have killed somebody."

"What?!"

"Ivy, this isn't like you," Beth said, "to turn your back on Will—"

"I'm not turning my back on him!"

"—and take up with some guy who is obviously using you. I don't know what is going on, but you haven't been yourself since the accident"

Ivy turned to her friend. "I could say the same thing about you." Beth ran her hand along her gold chain with the amethyst and fingered the stone. Letting out a long breath, Ivy gazed at the sea lapping against the breakwater.

"Ivy, listen to me," Beth said, her voice pleading rather than angry now. "Something is very wrong. I can't shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." Beth's voice quivered. "But you must be careful. This is no time to trust strangers."

Ivy laid her hands gently on her friend's. "I know what I'm doing. It's time for you to trust
me
."

WHEN THEY ARRIVED HOME, IVY SAW THAT GUY'S backpack and bedroll were gone. Beth regarded the empty swing with a look of apprehension and peered through the screen door before entering the cottage, as if Guy might be waiting inside.

Following her in, Ivy was surprised to find Will there, sitting on the sofa, working—the puzzle. "Hey, Will."

"Hey. Have a good time?" he asked. "Yeah! The art is awesome," Ivy replied, hoping to sound upbeat and easy with him. "You'd love it there."

Will studied her, as if trying to tell whether things were "right" between them, then said, "There's no way you can see it all in one trip, so maybe you'll want to go a second time with me. How about it?"

"Of course!" Ivy sat in a chair facing the coffee table. "And this time, with plenty of cash. I saw about ten sets of earrings and an armful of bracelets I liked. I could do all my Christmas shopping there." She leaned forward and pushed a puzzle piece into place.

"Beth, come sit down," Will invited. "I have an idea I wanted to talk over with both of you."

Beth had reached the kitchen and turned back reluctantly. "I've been thinking about next Sunday," Will said as Beth perched on the edge of the sofa.

"Tristan's anniversary and how to honor him. They allow bonfires at the National Seashore. And there's a beach called Race Point, which seems right for him. What do you think?"

Ivy knowing how hard Will was trying, felt tears rising in her. "It's a great idea."

"I was thinking of picking up the permit Tuesday afternoon at the visitors' center." Will looked hopefully at Ivy. "How about that and dinner in Provincetown?"

She smiled at him. "Perfect." Beth rose silently and returned to the kitchen. Will turned and gazed after her. "Beth, are you okay?"

"Fine," she called back. Ivy leaned close to Will. "Something's really bothering her."

"I think it's the anniversary," Will said, reaching for Ivy's hand. "She went through a lot with us. You can't just erase memories like that. Things will be easier for all of us after the twenty fifth."

Ivy looked down at her hand resting in Will's and nodded silently, wishing she could believe that the way he did.