Ever Present Danger (16 page)

Ivy drove a mile beyond the city limits and pulled into the guest parking lot at the Phantom Hollow Lodge and found a parking space in the back row. As she walked toward the entrance, her heartbeat seemed almost as audible as the thumping of the bass coming from the rock band performing inside the lodge. She fought the temptation to turn around and forget the whole thing.

She pulled open the heavy wood door and walked into the lobby. A big poster set on an easel indicated the class reunion was being held in the Aspen Room on the second floor. She pushed the button on the elevator just as a deep voice behind her caused her to jump.

“Ivy! Wait!”

She turned around and saw Bill Ziwicki walking briskly toward her and looking nice in khakis and a brown leather jacket and brown loafers.

“Guess we’re on the same wavelength,” Bill said. “I must’ve
pulled in right behind you. Wow, do you look nice! Pretty haircut.”

“Thanks.” Ivy wondered what he’d think of her new dress when she finally took off the coat she had borrowed from her mother.

“I’m glad you decided to come. So…you’re by yourself, right?”

“Yes, but I’m meeting Pete and Reg and Denny.”

“Oh.”

The elevator opened and Ivy stepped inside, Bill on her heels. She pushed the button, and they rode up to the second floor in awkward silence. In the hallway just outside the elevator, a gal about her age sat behind a table, name tags laid out in front of her.

“Welcome, I’m Kendra Miller Clawson.” The just-a-little-too-heavy redhead looked at Ivy and then at Bill. “You’re Bob Ziwicki. I remember you.”

“Actually, it’s Bill. Do I just pick up my name tag and—”

Kendra turned her eyes on Ivy and smiled. “I give up. Who are you?”

“Ivy Griffith.”

Kendra shrieked. “I’m going to faint! It’s really you!” She came around the table waving her arms and gave Ivy a hug. “You weren’t at the five-year reunion, and I’ve wondered about you a lot. You look terrific with your hair that length. I’m jealous you’re so skinny. I’ve gained twenty-five pounds since I had my kids.”

Ivy suspected Kendra’s compliment was just her way of being polite, but it was nice having someone welcome her with such gusto.

“Pete Barton’s already here.” Kendra smiled. “He said to tell you he wants the first dance. Last time I saw him, he was with Reg Morrison and Denny Richards at table six. Oh, don’t forget your name tag. Notice the JH at the bottom right corner to commemorate Joe Hadley. Good to see you, Ivy.”

“Thanks. It’s nice being here.”
Not really, but it’s looking up
.

Ivy turned to say something to Bill and realized he was gone. She hated that he was probably feeling slighted.

Ivy checked her coat and then walked into a large room tightly
packed with people. She was able to identify a number of classmates, more from name tags than actual recognition. She spotted Pete Barton making his way over to her.

“You look great,” he said. “Whatever you did, it works for me.”

“I didn’t do it for you, but I’ll take that as a compliment. You said you were going to do all the talking. I’m just here for the ride.”

“That’s right. Let’s go sit at the table with Reg and Denny and see if you can figure out who the others are.”

Ivy saw Bill Ziwicki standing by himself next to the bar, a mug of beer in his hand. “I’ll be right back.” She worked her way through the crowd and over to Bill. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. Kendra’s welcome was a little dramatic. She hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Doesn’t seem like anything’s changed,” he said.

“Please don’t take it personally that I’m sitting with Pete and the guys. I agreed to this weeks ago.”

Bill took a sip of beer. “Do what you want. But why’d you tell me you wanted to go by yourself when you planned to be with Pete all along?”

“I told you I didn’t want to
go
with Pete. I never said I wasn’t sitting with him. I wanted to drive myself so I could come and go when I want.”

“Guess I misunderstood. Oh well, I hope you have a great time seein’ everyone.”

Ivy didn’t miss the emptiness in Bill’s voice or the impatience in Pete’s as he called out to her from across the room, his hands waving in the air.

“You’d better go.” Bill pushed his free hand deep into his pants pocket. “I’ll catch you later.”

Carolyn Griffith heard the Westminster chimes strike nine o’clock. She put her knitting aside and went upstairs to check on Montana. She looked in his room and his bed was empty. She went in Ivy’s room and the bathrooms, and she finally found him
sitting in the rocker in the room that had been Lu’s.

Carolyn went in and sat on the side of the bed, her hands folded in her lap. “It’s really hard missing someone you love, isn’t it?”

Montana shrugged.

“I have an idea how you feel. My mother and grandmother were killed in a car wreck when I was eight, and I remember feeling empty and sad and angry. I thought life would never ever be okay again. Or that anyone understood.”

Montana glanced up at her and then stared at nothing, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

“Your Gramma Lu came here with you because she knew you’d be safe with us, and that your mother would find a job. And she knew that once the sadness went away, life would be good again.”

“But it won’t,” Montana said. “Not without Gramma Lu.”

“Well, you’ll always love her. And no one can ever take her place. But that doesn’t mean that life has to be awful from now on. Sadness really does go away after a while. It’s supposed to. Sadness is our way of missing someone. But happiness is our way of remembering how much we loved someone. I think Lu would want you to remember her with happy thoughts.”

Montana let out a sob and in the next instant seemed to inhale it. “I can’t. My happy thoughts are all gone.”

Carolyn got up and knelt beside the rocker and took his hand. “Sweetie, they aren’t gone. The sadness just feels bigger right now.”

She pulled Montana close and held him, his sobs evoking tears of her own. She had never expected to love this child as much as she did.

“What’s the problem?” Elam Griffith said.

Carolyn turned and saw Elam’s silhouette in the doorway. “Montana is just missing Lu tonight.”

“What time’s Ivy coming home?”

“I don’t know. Late.”

Elam stood there a moment and then she heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Grandfather Griffith doesn’t like me,” Montana said.

“That’s not true.”

“Then why is he always grouchy?”

“Well, it’s not your fault. How about you and I have some hot cocoa before you go back to bed?”

Ivy looked around the room, thinking it had been a more enjoyable evening than she had anticipated, but the conversation at the table had been going steadily downhill for the past hour.

“Sure you don’t you want to add a little rum to your beverage of choice?” Reg laughed so hard he almost fell over in his chair. “The rest of us are feeling mighty good. Yes, indeed. Mighty good.”

“I’m fine,” Ivy said

“How can you be fine when you’re still sober?” Denny’s words were slurred. “How can it hurt to have an itsy bitsy teenie weenie splash of rum in your Coke?”

“Because I’m driving myself home.”
And all I need is to get addicted to something again
.

Reg moved over and slid his arm around her, then put his lips to her ear and said loudly. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me and Denny and we can have a sleepover?” He guffawed and knocked over his glass, the drink spilling across the table.

Ivy peeled his arm off her and grabbed a handful of napkins and laid them on top of the spill, then looked at Pete, her eyes pleading. “These guys are wasted. Why don’t you take them to their room and let them sleep it off? The party’s over.”

“For them, maybe. Not for me. Promise you won’t leave? I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, all right.”

“Come on, guys. Time to go beddy bye.” Pete linked arms with Reg and Denny, and they bid a boisterous farewell before heading down the hall to the elevator, singing the school alma mater way off-key.

Ivy looked around the room, her feet jiggling nervously, and noticed Bill standing at the bar—and Kendra Clawson making a beeline for the table.

“I haven’t had a chance to visit with you yet.” Kendra sat next to Ivy, her arms folded on the table. “So have you had fun?”

“Yeah, it’s been good seeing everybody.”

“Somehow I pictured you married to a plastic surgeon and living in a mansion with five kids and a nanny, chunking down bonbons all day without losing your perfect figure.”

Ivy manufactured a smile. “Instead, I’m a grossly underweight single mom with a seven-year-old son and absolutely nothing exciting to talk about. I’d much rather hear what you’ve been doing for the past ten years.”

Ivy pretended to be interested as Kendra rattled off the details of all three pregnancies and the admirable traits of her children, and then talked about her real estate business, her husband, her nitpicky mother-in-law, and the new house they had just moved into. Ivy glanced at her watch and realized Pete had been gone twenty-five minutes. So much for him carrying the conversation.

“Now that we’re living in Phoenix,” Kendra said, “I’m just not used to the cold weather anymore, and—”

“My turn.” Bill Ziwicki dropped in the chair next to Ivy. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to Ivy all night.”

Kendra seemed embarrassed by the abrupt intrusion and rose to her feet. “I guess I should move on so I can get around to everyone. Nice talking with you, Ivy.”

Bill watched Kendra bounce over to the next table. “You don’t mind if I sit here, now that Pete’s gone?”

“No, but he’s coming back any minute. I don’t want him to start in on you. He’s bad enough when he hasn’t been drinking. By the way, you look very nice. I meant to tell you earlier. I don’t know how you can stand to wear that leather jacket in here, though. It’s so stuffy.”

“Well, for one thing, I haven’t been out there dancin’ and workin’ up a sweat like the rest of you.”

“But you had a good time, didn’t you?” Ivy asked.

“Not really. I got stuck listenin’ to Ronnie what’s-his-face dump on me about his divorce.”

“Ronnie Unger?”

“Yeah. Talk about bitter. Said his old lady was cheatin’ on him. I thought the guy’d never shut up, and I finally started minglin’ just to get away from him.”

Ivy saw the sadness in Bill’s eyes. “Sorry. Every time I spotted you, you were talking to someone different, and I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“Not really. Most of these people only spoke to me to ease their conscience for treatin’ me like dirt.” Bill put down his glass, his dark eyes holding her gaze. “But there is one thing that’d make up for the whole evening. Would you dance this last dance with me, Ivy? I’ve wanted to ask you that since the day I met you.”

Ivy glanced at her watch. Where was Pete? Did she really care what he or any of these people thought? She decided she didn’t. “You know what, Bill? I’d be honored.”

She offered Bill her hand, and he led her out to the dance floor and pulled her closer than she would have chosen, his cheek next to hers. Ivy was aware of heads turning and people whispering, but for some reason, she felt better about herself than she had in a long, long time.

When the music stopped, the leader of the band thanked everyone and bid the gathering good night. Ivy went back to the table, and Bill sat next to her, his face beaming.

“Thanks. You’ll never know what that meant to me.”

“I enjoyed it, too. It was a nice way to end the evening.” She took a sip of her Coke. “Pete must be passed out somewhere. He said he was coming right back, and that was forty minutes ago.”

“Want me to help you look for him?”

Ivy sighed. “Okay. No one’s going to hang around here now that the band’s packing up, and I really hate to leave without saying something. I guess I could start by calling Reg and Denny’s room. He might’ve just crashed there.”

“Okay. Do you know the room number?”

“No. We can ask at the front desk.”

Ivy rode down the elevator with Bill and went over to the young man standing behind the registration desk.

“Excuse me,” she said. “Could you give me the room number for Reg Morrison and Denny Richards?”

“Sorry, miss. We don’t give out room numbers.”

“Not even to a friend? We were together all evening until they got smashed and went back to their room to sleep it off. I just want to be sure they made it before I go home.”

The young man glanced at her name badge. “Are you the Ivy Griffith that used to date Pete Barton?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?”

“I graduated two years behind you guys. Everybody knew who you were.” He keyed something into his computer. “Your friends are in 312. Just don’t tell anybody I told you.”

“Thanks.”

Ivy picked up the house phone and dialed and let it ring six times. “They’re not answering,” she said to Bill. “Probably out cold. Let’s go see if Pete’s there.”

She went to the elevator, Bill on her heels, and went up to the third floor and walked to the end of the hall.

Ivy made a fist and pounded on the door. “Reg? Denny? You guys awake?”

She listened carefully, but didn’t hear anything.

“Guys, it’s Ivy. Open the door.”

She turned the handle and was surprised when the door opened. “Why don’t you peek in and see if Pete’s with them?” she said to Bill.

“You sure it’s okay?”

“Well, I can’t just walk in. What if they’re not dressed?”

“All right.” Bill pushed open the door and saw the light was on. “Guys, it’s Bill Ziwicki. Anyone here?” He walked through the narrow entryway past the bathroom and stopped for several seconds, then stumbled backwards and almost tripped over Ivy, his face drained of color.