Faith, Hope, and Ivy June (12 page)

“Us too?” asked Claire.

“Of course,” said their mother. “As long as you eat something besides French fries.”

There were things on the menu Ivy June had never heard of, and it seemed to take a long time after they had ordered for the food to arrive. Ivy June was thinking that back in Hazard or Harlan, they could have eaten three or four meals at McDonald’s in the time it took to eat one dinner at a restaurant in Lexington. Nevertheless, she enjoyed her chicken pot pie while the others ate veal, and was surprised to see bread pudding, a favorite of Mammaw’s, on the menu for dessert.

Her legs got cold on the walk from the restaurant to the opera house. Catherine, she noticed, was wearing panty hose, which Ivy June had never worn in her life. But once inside the beautiful theater, Ivy June stood gazing up at the ceiling, which was so high she couldn’t imagine how anyone could have put lights there. The red plush seats, the two curved balconies with their fancy boxes at either end—she’d have to remember to write it all down later in her journal.

If Jessie could see me now
, she thought, almost guiltily, and wished that Howard and Ezra and Danny could see it too. Wished that Ma and Daddy had the time and the money to come to a place like this. That Mammaw and Papaw could sit in a restaurant and be served by waiters in blue jackets. And that Shirl could sit beside her in the theater and giggle at the man in front of them, who was wearing a collar so tight it looked as though he were choking. Then the orchestra started to play. The curtain rose on a prairie scene, and a man sitting on a fence began singing,
“Oh, what a beautiful morn in ….”
Ivy June was hooked.

During intermission, when everyone stood at once and began surging up the aisle to the exits, Ivy June felt her throat tighten and perspiration bead up on her fore-head. The crush of people! This was far worse than the halls at school. No one seemed to be moving much at all, just inching forward bit by bit. She could feel their breath on the back of her neck, their feet bumping into her heels, but there was no place to go. She kept bumping into people herself as she was propelled forward, saying “Excuse me” and “Pardon me” and “Oops!” and “I’m sorry.”

As soon as they reached the lobby, Ivy June made her way to a clear space just inside the entrance and stood taking deep breaths.

“You okay?” Catherine asked, coming up beside her.

“Yeah,” Ivy June answered, her voice a little shaky.

“Want a Sprite or anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” Ivy June said, but when they got back to their seats and she checked the program again, she was glad to see that there were no more intermissions.

“Did you like it?” Claire asked when they were out on the sidewalk again, heading back to the parking lot.

“I loved it!” Ivy June said. “I knew some of those songs already. We sang them at school.”

“Well, we have a lot of things planned for you, Ivy June,” Mrs. Combs told her. “I hope we won’t wear you out.” Claire was hugging her mom’s side before Peter eased himself between them to claim their mother for himself. Claire elbowed him furiously, and Mrs. Combs had to separate the twins, one on either side of her.

“Ivy June thought she was going to be trampled to death at intermission,” Catherine joked.

Mr. Combs looked down at Ivy June. “Not used to crowds, huh?”

“Papaw says every man should live far enough away from his neighbors that he can’t see their chimney smoke, but close enough so he could hear them yell,” Ivy June explained.

Everyone laughed.

“Do you think he’d like Lexington?” asked Peter.

“Maybe for a while, but he says he can’t imagine living in a place where he can’t see hills,” Ivy June said. “You look out a window in Thunder Creek, you won’t see anything
but
hills.”

She was glad to get in the car again, and pulled the hem of her dress down over her knees for warmth. She was glad too that Catherine was friendly toward her again—was talking to her, anyway—and hoped that as the days went on, Catherine would forget about making her tell a secret.

But just after the light was out that night, before the girls fell asleep, she heard Catherine say, “Remember, Ivy June. Your most
secret
secret!”

“Okay,” Ivy June said. “But you’ll have to wait till my last day. I’ll tell you then.”

“Why do I have to wait?” asked Catherine. “Is it that awful?”

“Worse,” said Ivy June.

CHAPTER TWENTY

March 15

I guess if I never saw any more of Lexington than the opera house, I’d say I’ve seen a lot. I’ve seen a whole bunch of seats before, like at graduation in our gym, but not a thousand, and none of them in red velvet you could sink down three inches in. The chicken pie was good too, but they don’t know how to make biscuits like Mammaw does.

I’ve got to come up with a secret, though, and Catherine’s not going to listen to any spin the bottle stories, either. I hope we’re still friends when Mackenzie gets back from Cincinnati.

Ivy June Mosley

March 15

I was so mad at Ivy June this morning I didn’t even want to say her name. I couldn’t believe she said what she did at Jennifer’s, and Mackenzie knew, I could tell. Maybe Ivy June’s right–maybe Mackenzie has suspected all along that Andy likes me, but Ivy June sort of made it official. Can I help it if a boy likes me, though? What am I supposed to do–hang up on him?

It’s hard to stay mad at Ivy June for long, because she’s so direct about everything, but I’m not going to let her off easy. She’s going back to Thunder Creek with a secret of mine, and I’m going to make sure she leaves one of hers behind.

Catherine Combs

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

After church on Sunday, the family had barely finished their noon meal when Rosemary arrived.

“John,” she said to Catherine’s father, “your dad is away at a golf tournament this weekend, and I have a wonderful idea. I’m going to take Ivy June shopping, and Catherine can come along if she likes.”

Ivy June had just taken a sip of iced tea, and started to speak as she swallowed. She coughed instead.

“Shopping?” asked Mrs. Combs.

“I … I don’t need anything,” Ivy June said.

“I didn’t say you
needed
anything, dear. But I’m afraid I came across as rude last week, and I want to make amends. I
want
to take you shopping and send you back home with a brand-new outfit, head to toe.”

How do you politely say no to a woman who maybe is
trying to be nice?
Ivy June wondered. She didn’t want to show up in Thunder Creek with a brand-new outfit. Did not want to go to school with new shoes. Did not want anything about her to look as though she had changed. The last thing in the world she wanted was to come back from Lexington looking like she was trying to be better than anyone else.

“No, thank you,” she said.

Rosemary looked at her in astonishment. “Dear, I’m not expecting you to pay for it! This is a gift from me to you, and Catherine can come along to help pick things out.”

“Yes, ma’am, I appreciate it. But I … I really just don’t want to,” Ivy June said haltingly.

“That’s fair, Ivy June,” Mr. Combs said firmly. “Rosemary, why don’t you sit down and have some dessert with us? Ivy June had quite a day yesterday, and I imagine she’d just like to rest.”

Rosemary was still staring at her.

“Well, I can hardly see how she could refuse a new outfit,” she said. “If anyone had offered that to me when
I
was her age, I would have thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”

“If you’d died and gone to heaven, you wouldn’t
need
new clothes,” said Peter, and everyone laughed. Everyone but Rosemary.

She sat down stiffly in a chair next to Claire. “One of the things I learned as a girl was to be grateful,” she said. “When I saw a chance to better myself, I took it. I didn’t let pride hold me back.”

“No, ma’am,” said Ivy June. “But Papaw taught me to want what I have, so I don’t really want any new clothes. Thank you anyway.”

Rosemary studied her for a few moments, and her face seemed to soften a bit. “You’re welcome, Ivy June,” she said finally. “And yes, John, I think I would like some of that key lime pie.”

Mrs. Combs said she needed to lie down that afternoon, and Flora came over to get supper for the family.

“I
told
you not to try to put together Sunday dinner all by yourself,” Flora scolded. “Why, I could have come by early and fixed that chicken. Made some biscuits.”

“I’ll be fine after a little nap,” Catherine’s mother said. “John’s going to take them all to a horse farm tomorrow, and that will be my chance to rest up.” Claire put her arms around her mother’s neck and nestled against her, and Ivy June envied them their closeness.

“Yeah, Ivy June. You’re finally going to get a chance to ride,” Catherine said.

“We’re going to put you on a bucking bronco!” said Peter.

Ivy June laughed. “You and Howard would get along great,” she said.

March 17

I forgot it was St. Patrick’s Day, but Catherine gave me a green sweater to drape around my neck when we went to the horse park. In the car, we were talking about being Irish, and that’s something we have in common.

She can trace her mother’s ancestors back as far as 1710. I can’t say when my relatives came to America, but I can take you a mile up in the hollow behind Papaw’s house and show you a little dogtrot cabin that his granddaddy built for himself. It’s half gone now, and all covered over with weeds, but the fireplace is still there. Mammaw said not to go in because of snakes, but I did anyway. I stood in front of the fireplace and thought how some of my people once stood on that very spot. They cooked their beans and made their corn bread and probably wondered what their babies would do when they were grown.

If I had to give up everything I’ve seen and done in Lexington so far just so I could visit the horse park, I’d do it. There’s about everything you ever wanted to know about horses in that park—how to care for them, what to feed them, how to groom them, plus all about the famous horses that have won the Kentucky Derby.