Ever Present Danger (14 page)

“Yeah, right.”
Keep telling yourself that
. She put her hand on the door handle.

“Ivy, wait! For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry about the drugs. I was young and stupid and just wanted you guys to like me. I never thought I was hurting anyone.”

Ivy turned around and looked into his eyes and saw her own insecurity staring back at her. “It was my choice. I don’t blame you. I’d just as soon forget it, okay?”

“Yeah, me too.” Bill looked beyond her and seemed to be thinking. Finally he said, “I’ll never be able to make it up to you, but is there any chance we could go out sometime—maybe drive down to Durango and have dinner and see a movie?”

“Thanks for the offer. But right now I’m trying to deal with a death in the family and decide what I want to do with my life.”

Bill shrugged. “Yeah, okay. I didn’t figure a classy lady like you’d go out with me anyway. You seein’ Pete?”

“No, I’m not seeing anyone. Like I said, I’m just trying to cope.”

“So you’re not brushing me off?”

“It’s not personal, Bill. I’m just not dating right now.”

“All right.” He opened the door and held it. “Hope I see you at the reunion.”

Ivy started the Jeep, made a U-turn, and pulled out of the parking lot onto Three Peaks Road. She glanced at Bill Ziwicki in her rearview mirror and wondered why he was willing to go to the reunion and subject himself to more of Pete, Denny, and Reg’s cruelty—and if he actually thought of her as a classy lady.

JUST AFTER ONE on Monday afternoon, Ivy Griffith stood between Montana and her parents, trying to focus her attention on Pastor Rick Myers’s words as he prayed over Lu’s coffin, which was draped with a magnificent arrangement of spring flowers that Ivy’s parents had insisted on buying.

Lu’s good-for-nothing son and grandson hadn’t shown up—not that Ivy expected them to. She wondered if Lu knew, and if she was looking down from heaven at this very moment.

Pastor Myers’s sudden change in volume brought her back to the moment.

“And so, Father, we commit to You the spirit of Lucia Guadalupe Maria Ramirez and rest in the assurance that because she trusted Your Son Jesus Christ for her salvation, she is forever at peace in Your presence. We pray that the light Lu left behind will continue to shine in the hearts of those she loved until that great and glorious day when all believers will be united with You in Your eternal kingdom. In Jesus’ precious and holy name we pray. Amen.”

Ivy put her hand to her mouth and choked back a sob, then put her arm around Montana and pulled him close. When she finally regained her composure, she realized her parents had huddled around them.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Pastor Myers asked.

Ivy shook her head. “Thank you for doing this. It was just what Lu wanted.”

He patted her shoulder and shook her father’s hand, then walked toward the church.

Montana glanced over at the coffin and then at Ivy. “Will Gramma Lu be lonesome if we leave?”

“No. People in heaven never feel lonesome.”

“Gramma Lu said to ask you about Jesus, that He knows the way to heaven. I wanna know how to get there.”

Ivy caught her father’s eye and felt at the same time shame and regret and fear. “Why don’t we talk about this on a day when Mommy’s not feeling sad, okay?”

Ivy reached for the two red roses in a vase near the coffin and handed one to Montana, then took his hand and walked over to Lu’s coffin. “Remember what I told you about saying our private good-byes. I’ll go first.”

Ivy stood staring at the flowers that probably cost more than she cleared in a week.
I love you, Lu. I always will. Thank you for not judging me…and for loving Montana and me as if we were your own. I’m not going to say good-bye. I just can’t
.

Ivy laid the rose on Lu’s coffin, then turned to Montana and said softly. “Your turn.”

Montana stood for a moment, his eyes closed and seemingly lost in thought. Finally, he kissed the rose in his hand and placed it on the coffin next to his mother’s.

Ivy fluttered her eyelashes to clear her eyes and hoped she’d make it home without losing it.

After the burial, the Griffiths went back to the house, and well-wishers dropped by, bringing warm embraces and words of comfort. Many brought food. Some brought flowers. Ivy recognized several people who had been members of Woodlands Community Church when she was going there. Others were from the camp.

She mingled for a while, and then sat on the couch next to Montana, who was hugging a couch pillow.

“How’re you doing, sweetie?” she said.

“I don’t want all these people here.”

“They came to make us feel better about Gramma Lu.”

Montana pushed out his bottom lip and clutched the pillow tighter. “It’s not working.”

“Well, be polite because they think they’re helping.”

Brandon Jones came out of the kitchen carrying two plates of food. “Here you go.” He handed one to Ivy and one to Montana.

“Hey, where’d you find the hot dog?” Montana smiled with his eyes. “I didn’t see those out there.”

Brandon sat on the couch next to him and lowered his voice. “I didn’t figure a seven-year-old would get excited about a tuna log or broccoli casserole or that carrot-raisin salad. So I went by my house and picked up a package of hot dogs and some potato chips. You want mustard or ketchup on it?”

Montana shook his head. “I like it plain.”

Ivy reached over and squeezed Brandon’s hand. “Thanks. That was thoughtful. I appreciate how sweet you and Kelsey have been to Montana.”

“It’s easy. He’s a great kid. What can I get you to drink?”

“Iced tea, if there’s any out there.”

“I’ll have Coke.” Montana glanced up at Ivy and quickly added, “I’ll drink milk at dinner. Please?”

“Oh, all right.”

“I’ll be right back.” Brandon turned and went in the kitchen.

Ivy heard the doorbell ring and wondered if the steady stream of comforters was ever going to stop. Seconds later her mother came over to the couch, holding a big vase of cut flowers.

“These just came for you,” Carolyn said. “Why don’t you take the card and I’ll put them in the dining room with the others.”

Ivy plucked the tiny yellow envelope from the vase and read the sentiment on the enclosure card.
Thinking of you today and sharing your grief. Your friend, Bill Ziwicki
.

“Who’re they from?” Montana said, his mouth chock-full of hot dog.

“Oh, that guy we saw at the church the other day. He just wants me to know he’s sorry about Gramma Lu.”

“He likes you.”

“Not really. He’s just someone I knew in high school.”

Montana popped a pickle into his mouth and licked his fingers. “Maybe he
would
like you if you liked him.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Why not? He seemed nice.”

“How would you know?”

Montana shrugged. “I can just tell.”

Ivy reread the card, surprised and touched by Bill’s sensitivity.

“Who were the flowers from?”

Ivy looked up and saw her mother standing there. “A guy I went to high school with. Montana and I ran into him when we were out at the cemetery the other day.”

“Well, it was awfully sweet of him to send flowers.”

After dinner, Ivy lay on her bed, her hands behind her head, relieved that Montana had fallen asleep early and half expecting Lu to come walking through the door. How long had it been since she felt this vulnerable? Lu had been her anchor since Montana was a baby. Now she felt as if she were adrift at sea.

She heard footsteps on the stairs, and then saw her mother in the doorway, the cordless phone in her hand. “Bill Ziwicki’s on the phone. You want to take it in here?”

“Okay.”

Ivy took the phone from her mother and waited until she left the room, then put the receiver to her ear. “Hello, Bill.”

“Hi. Hope you don’t mind me callin’, but I wanted to be sure the flowers got there.”

“Yes, they’re beautiful. I really appreciate the thought.”

“You’re welcome. You mentioned a death in the family but
never did say who it was. I didn’t recognize any of the names in the obituaries.”

Ivy sighed. “Actually it was my best friend, a lady who took care of my son and me when I was messed up on drugs. She was like a second mother to both of us. We buried her this afternoon, and I’m feeling pretty lost.”

“Yeah, I hear it in your voice. Wish there was somethin’ I could do to help.”

“You already have. The flowers meant a lot to me—more than you know.”

“Good. Well, I won’t keep you. I’m sure it’s been a hard day.”

Ivy suddenly realized she was bone tired. “Yeah, it has.”

“By the way, I’d be glad to give you a ride to the class reunion.”

“Thanks, but I’m not even sure I’m going.”

“I really wish you would.”

“Well, if I do, I’ll drive myself. Pete asked me first, and I really don’t want to go with him. It’s best if I just come alone.”

There was an uncomfortable moment of dead air.

“Why do you care what he thinks? You’re not his girl anymore. You’re a grown woman.”

“I guess I don’t, really.”

“Good, because he’s been back in town less than a year and has a reputation for gamblin’ and sleepin’ around. You deserve better.”

“And you don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Bill exhaled into the receiver. “Yeah, okay. It’s none of my business.”

“Thanks again for the beautiful flowers.”

“I’m glad you liked them. I hope I see you at the reunion. But if not, maybe I’ll see you around sometime. Good night.”

“Good night, Bill.”

Carolyn Griffith sat on the couch knitting a sweater for Montana, her eyelids heavy, her ability to focus quickly fading.

“I’d better head for bed while I can still make it up the steps,”
she said. “By the way, I finished reading this month’s
National Geographic
and left it there on the coffee table for you.”

Elam Griffith poked the logs on the fire, then placed the screen in front of the fireplace. “I’m not much in the mood for reading.”

“What’s wrong? You hardly said a word at dinner.”

“I’m worried about Ivy. What’s she going to do now that Lu’s gone? She has no earning power. She’s not going to come close to making it on what Jewel’s paying her.”

“I know. I worry about that, too.”

“If she works several jobs, she’ll have no time with her boy and will either have to pay someone to watch him or saddle you with taking care of him. And that’s not right.”

“I don’t look at spending time with Montana as a ball and chain. But I do think it would be good for Ivy to be independent.”

Elam flopped on the couch next to Carolyn. “So what do we do? How far can we trust her with money?”

“She’s clean, Elam. She hasn’t done drugs in three years.”

“Grief does funny things to people. What if she can’t cope without Lu? Having money in her pocket might open the door to more temptation than she can resist.”

“Well, before we decide what she is or isn’t capable of, it might be wise to discuss our concerns with her.” Carolyn noticed the lines on his forehead. “Something else is bothering you.”

“Harriett Barclay down at the drugstore saw Ivy slip a tube of lipstick into her purse.”

“When?”

“Last week. Didn’t confront her, though. I’m sure it was because she didn’t want to get on my bad side. Her lease is coming up for renewal.”

Carolyn’s heart sank. “I can’t believe Ivy would steal.”

“Ivy’s done a lot of things I had a hard time believing she was capable of.”

“Are you going to ask her about this?”

“Not right now, but I’m not going to let it go long. I won’t have a thief living in my house.”

Ivy threw off the covers and sat on the side of the bed, exhausted and wide-eyed, her heart pounding. She looked at the clock: 3:10 a.m.

She raked her hands through her damp hair, her mind racing with images of Lu and of impending financial disaster—and the irrational fear of facing her classmates at the reunion. Everything in her wanted to flee—to just get in the car and keep driving. She remembered that Lu used to say anxiety attacks were the result of feeling trapped.

Ivy considered her situation for a few minutes and decided she couldn’t do anything about missing Lu or fixing her finances, but she could start facing her fears about the reunion.

It’s just one night, for heaven’s sake. I can do this
.

She went out in the hallway and tiptoed up the steps to the attic and pulled the chain on the light. She found the cedar chest and opened it, then dug down until she found her high school yearbooks. She put them under her arm and carried them to her room and closed the door.