It Comes In Waves (22 page)

M
orning. . . .”

Claire woke to Gus's voice sliding into her thoughts, and the gentle pressure of movement against her body. She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. He was already in his board shorts, his gray eyes stormy with anticipation. “Some great breaks out there. Better get 'em while they're good.”

In the kitchen, with only a thin ribbon of dawn pink for light, Gus made them coffee and filled two travel mugs while she dressed. They carried their coffees and their boards down the steps to the walkway, Margot on their heels. The beach was busy with early surfers. A few dogs rushed to greet Margot, the pets chasing one another into the surf and back up the sand, scattering shorebirds in their path. The air was crisp and tangy, full of promise and the delicious possibility that came with morning. Claire felt ageless, unstoppable.

They screwed the bottoms of their mugs into the sand and walked into the water. Their leashes snug, they paddled out, the spray startlingly cold.

They were in the water only a few minutes, beautiful, blissful minutes when the world floated away, before they saw the smoke. It bloomed in the sky to their left, a dangerous gray against the soft lavender of sunrise.

The surfers around them began toward the shore, pointing and calling out.

There were mostly houses in that direction, but there were a handful of stores too.

Claire looked across the water at Gus.

He said it before she could.

“Ivy.”

•   •   •

I
t was Shep who thought to get dressed and walk down to see what all the commotion was about. He and Jill had been asleep when they heard the first sirens, their thoughts swimming in that pool of just before waking, when dream and reality blend for a strange instant.

“It's probably just an abandoned bonfire,” Jill said, her voice still scratchy with sleep as she sat up to watch Shep shrug into a T-shirt and zip up his shorts.

“Probably,” Shep echoed, but when the second fire truck sailed past the house, Jill rose and followed him downstairs and out to the porch. They could smell the smoke now.

“I should drive,” Shep said, an unmistakable edge of panic deepening his voice.

“Wait.” Jill turned back to the house, needing a bra. Shoes. “I'm coming with you.”

•   •   •

T
he fire had started in the back of the shop.

By the time Shep and Jill arrived, the blaze had been put out, but not before it had scorched nearly half the building, crumpling one corner of the roof and leaving vicious black streaks above the store's street-facing windows. They could only get as close as the sidewalk, but Jill didn't wait for Shep to stop the van before she pushed out the door and raced up the hill.

“Luke!” she screamed to anyone who could hear. “My son's in there!”

Edgar Lawson, a volunteer fireman and friend, pressed through the crowd of officers and waved her down, stopping her a few feet short of the tape line. She rushed to meet him, breathless, her heart thundering in her ears.
God, please let my baby be okay
.

“Luke's fine. He's fine, Jill,” Edgar said even before she'd reached him. “He was already out by the time the trucks got here.”

“Oh, thank you, God.” Jill searched the lot, frantic. “Where is he?”

“He went to the hospital to see Ivy,” Edgar said, just as Shep caught up to them. “She got out too, but they took her in as a precaution. He left with that old friend of y'all's, just a few minutes ago. They went in Barry's patrol car.”

Shep took Jill's hand. “Which hospital, Ed?”

•   •   •

C
laire reached across the seat and touched Luke's arm where it was wedged under his other one. From the minute they'd climbed into the police car, he kept his gaze on the window, his jaw grinding with worry, his eyes unblinking on the road.

“She's going to be fine, Luke. You heard what the EMT said.”

“Then why did he turn the sirens on?” Luke demanded. “If she's so fine, then why are we going so frigging fast to get there?”

“Because Deputy Abrams knows you're worried,” Claire said gently.

Luke shook his head. “I should have been the one to get her out. I woke up and I couldn't see anything and I just ran out—I was half-asleep! I wanted to go back in for her, but they wouldn't let me.” He pressed a fist into his forehead, his face crumpling with anguish.

“Shh. . . .” Claire rubbed his back. “We should call your mother. She must be worried sick.”

It had all happened so fast. Gus had driven her into the chaos and Claire had leaped out of the truck without waiting for him to catch up to her. Within minutes of searching, she'd found Luke wandering the embankment, looking as adrift as a lost toddler in a crowded mall. Luke had seen her and rushed through the thicket of EMTs and onlookers to reach her, begging her to help him find out where they'd taken Ivy. When Barry Abrams, a deputy Claire knew from the old days, offered to give them a ride to the hospital in his police car, she didn't hesitate. Only when they were speeding down Ashley, sirens wailing, did it occur to Claire that she hadn't seen Jill.

Claire tugged open her purse to find her phone, but there wasn't time; they'd reached the hospital. The call could wait until they got inside, she thought, looking back to find Luke had already moved to the edge of his seat, ready to fly out the minute the car stopped and the door opened.

It was okay, Claire decided. Luke was with her, he was safe, and now he had to see Ivy. That was all that mattered. Jill would understand.

•   •   •

S
till no answer,” Jill said as she followed Shep through the hospital's automatic front doors. They'd been calling Claire's cell from the moment they got in the van but got her voice mail every time. Jill just wanted to see her son, to stop the incessant shaking of her entire body that made her feel like a propeller plane warming up. If Shep hadn't kept hold of her hand as they sprinted down the corridor to Ivy's room, Jill was certain she'd have spun out into the atmosphere.

Stepping into the room, Jill saw Luke and Claire, still in her rash guard and board shorts, flanking the sides of Ivy's bed like bookends, their hands on the guardrails.

For a strange and terrible second, Jill felt as if she were intruding on a private moment.

“Luke.”
She rushed across the room and pressed her face against her son's chest, tears of relief swimming behind her closed eyes.

Luke hugged her. “I'm fine, Ma. I'm okay.”

She leaned back and cleared her eyes to see Ivy.
The bed is swallowing her,
Jill thought, stifling a startled gasp. Foster's mother looked shrunken, fragile. Ivy's hair, usually pulled back, lay around her face on the pillow like a gray fan.

Shep arrived beside them, pulling Luke in for a fierce hug.

“What did the doctor say?” Shep asked, turning to Ivy.

Her voice was watery and thin. “They want to keep me here for some tests. At least a day, two at the most.” Ivy squinted to her left, where Claire stood. “Isn't that what he said, Pepper?”

Jill shifted her gaze to Claire, feeling the awful pang of exclusion again.

“That's right,” Claire said.

“Pepper brought Luke to me in Barry Abrams's squad car,” Ivy said proudly, patting Claire's hand for emphasis. “Made him turn on the sirens and everything to get here.”

“I can't take credit for the sirens,” Claire said, smiling down at Ivy. “That was all Barry's doing.”

But she'd take credit for bringing Luke, Jill thought sourly, the quiet accusation harsh but reflexive. Jill knew she must have worn her indignation on her face, because when she met Claire's gaze, Claire's smile thinned.

Jill looked away, shame and anger merging hot in her throat. This wasn't the time.

“We're just glad no one was hurt,” Jill said, taking Luke's hand from the guardrail and closing both of hers around it.

Claire leaned in closer to Ivy. “Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? How about something to drink?”

The words rushed out, sharp and quick, before Jill could soften them. “We can get her whatever she needs now, Claire. I'm sure you'd like to get back to Folly and change out of that outfit. Shep would be glad to give you a ride.”

“It's fine. I don't mind,” said Claire. “I used to spend whole days in this outfit. Remember?”

You know I do, Claire. You know I can't ever forget. Is that what you want me to say?

Jill felt Shep's hand close around hers and squeeze, as if he'd sensed her teetering near the edge she'd been walking toward for days now.

She squeezed back.

Shep said, “Maybe we should all go and let you get your rest, Ivy.”

“I'll stay,” Claire offered. “Y'all must want to get Luke home.” She reached across Ivy to touch Luke's hand. “You should get some sleep.”

Jill watched the interaction between her son and Claire, her gaze catching briefly on Ivy in the middle. A rush of discomfort propelled her forward. “
I'll
stay,” she announced.

“They're right, Luke,” Ivy whispered. “You need to get home, honey. You need sleep.” But before Luke could contest, Ivy became overcome with a fit of coughs.

Jill frowned. “That cough is terrible. Where's the doctor?”

“I'm okay . . . really . . . ,” Ivy managed. “The doctor isn't worried.”

“Maybe he should be,” said Jill. “I want to talk to him. I'll go find him.”

“Let me,” said Claire.

No, Jill thought, her patience at an end. “I said I'll go.” She walked to the door and pushed through, her cheeks hot with nerves and irritation.

“Jill, wait!”

She could hear Claire's voice behind her as she marched down the hall, but Jill refused to slow her pace to the elevator. This wasn't just about finding the doctor. She needed air, she needed space.

She reached the metal doors and pressed the
DOWN
arrow.

Claire arrived beside her. “You don't even know her doctor's name.”

“I'll find out.”

“By going to another floor?”

“I'm going to the reception desk downstairs where we came in.” Jill pressed the arrow again, harder this time. “Why don't you let Shep and Luke take you back to the house? You're welcome to stay with us until you can make new flight arrangements—”

“I'm not leaving,” Claire said firmly. “Not now. Not after this.”

“You don't have to worry about her, Claire. We've been taking care of Ivy for a long time now. We plan to keep taking care of her.”

“I'm just trying to help.”

Jill glared up at the light board, willing the floor numbers to start flashing and signal the motion of the car.

This was ridiculous. She'd take the stairs.

She scanned the hall and saw the door. Try as she did to outpace her, Claire still followed her into the stairwell. The smell of disinfectant was strong now. Jill worried she might be sick.

“Jill, wait.”

She hurried down the stairs, refusing to slow. “Claire, please. Just go back to the room.”

“Dammit, Jill, can you stand still for five seconds and talk to me?”

Jill stopped and let out an exasperated breath. “You want to talk? Okay, let's talk.”

Claire took a step back, visibly surprised by Jill's burst of challenge.

Jill shook her head. “You had no right.”

“No right to what?” said Claire. “To care about Ivy? To help her move through something painful?”

“If you cared so much about helping her move through something painful, you should have been here for the funeral.”

“Is this because I brought Luke to the hospital? Are you angry with me because we didn't wait for you?”

Jill squeezed the railing. “You have a child of your own to take care of. It was obvious at dinner that you and your daughter are struggling right now, but that doesn't give you the right to come in here and try to mother my child. He's my son, not yours.”

It was a wicked thing to say, a vicious thing, and Jill regretted it as soon as the words hit the air, but it was too late. She lowered her eyes, instantly ashamed.

Claire's voice was tight. “I know I'm not Luke's mother. You made sure there was no chance of that happening, didn't you?”

“Ma?”

Both women looked up to see Luke on the landing above them, staring down. “We've been looking for you guys. Y'all okay?”

“Sorry, baby. Everything's fine.” Jill hurried up the stairs to meet him, feeling shaky and raw. How much had he overheard?

“Shep went to the cafeteria,” Luke said. “Did y'all find the doctor?”

“I'm still looking.” Jill reached up to kiss his cheek. “See you back in the room.”

She felt Claire's expectant gaze follow her past her son and out the door, their conversation painfully unfinished, but Jill couldn't bear another moment in her company.

And it scared the daylights out of her to think what she might say next if she didn't leave.

•   •   •

C
laire waited until the heavy stairwell door groaned closed before she walked up to meet Luke on the landing.

His eyes pooled with trepidation, with sympathy, with question.

He swallowed. “I heard what she said. About me not being your son.”

Claire looked up at the flights above them and sighed. “I'm sorry you heard that. I swear I didn't mean to make things worse.”

“You didn't. My mom and Shep did that. Your being here was the best thing to happen to my grams in a long time.”

Claire's eyes filled. God, he was so beautiful. He was everything perfect about this place. Everything right. “No,” she said. “The best thing to happen to her is
you
.”