Ivy in the Shadows (12 page)

“No!” I said, absolutely horrified.

“Are you sure?”

“Aunt Maureen! I didn't even want to be there! I was afraid of losing Ellen as my friend if I didn't go and that's the truth.”

She pushed up off the sink and said, “Then I see no reason your mama needs to know. I'm not saying you should disobey her but we've all been in spots like you are in now, Ivy. But you tell your Aunt Maureen the truth, young lady. If I ask where you're going, I damn well want to know.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“And I think your goose would have been cooked with your mother if Caleb hadn't stepped in to help. He even told her he knew you were home before you really were. So I suppose you owe him, but, Caleb.” Her eyes slid to him. “I'm giving you the same warning I told Ivy. Don't lie to me again, young man.”

Good luck with that, I thought. But I bit my tongue. After all, he'd lied to help me. Not that I wanted his help, you understand. Not at all. But, still …

12

Later that night, Mama and Aunt Maureen were curled up on each end of the couch, their hands wrapped around coffee mugs. A person would think that, as much talking as they did on the phone, there wouldn't be anything left to talk about, but they were deep in discussion when Caleb and I went upstairs to get ready for bed.

“Caleb, wait,” I said. “You've got me confused. Why did you help me?”

“Your mother was upset.”

“That's not what I asked.”

“I knew you were going to the party, and I also knew that, if you told your aunt you'd be home by six-thirty, you'd do your best.”

“How did you know about the party? Have you been spying on me?”

“When things are said in front of you, is hearing them considered spying?” he asked.

I thought about his question and about how Mama was always talking to Aunt Maureen in front of me. Sure, it was spying when I picked up the phone and listened, but I didn't think it was spying when I was in the same room and she said things that I heard.

“No, I don't think that's spying.”

“You talked to Ellen on the phone about the party. I went upstairs to put my gift card in my room before helping with dinner and I heard you. I wasn't spying.”

“But that's not all,” I said. “You also had a ready-made excuse for me to not get into trouble.”

“My parents … they always tried to help people. That's what I do now. I try to help.”

“If you wanted to help so dang much and you knew I was at Alexa's, why didn't you come and get me?”

He looked down at his feet. I wondered if he was ever going to answer me but then he said, “Do you really think anyone there would have let me in?”

Would they? I pushed the question out of my mind but not before I realized that the answer was no, they probably wouldn't have.

*   *   *

You'd think a person should be able to sleep in on a Saturday but, as I mentioned before, not in our house. I woke to a buzzing sound and I reached for my alarm clock. I hit the snooze button, but it kept going. I reached again and knocked it off the table, sending it
kerthunking
onto the floor.

I groaned and woke up enough to pull it by the cord back onto the table. That's when I realized the sound I heard was the doorbell. I rolled out of bed and made it halfway downstairs when I heard Aunt Maureen talking through the screen door. It was pretty easy to see by her mussed hair and silk robe that whoever had come calling had woken her, too.

I squatted on the step and listened.

“Now, I don't want to be mean but we don't want any pamphlets if you really are from a church. I thought you boys traveled in pairs with white shirts and backpacks.”

“I'm not a Mormon!”

“Well, I really don't care what church you're from. If we want to go to church, we'll find one. Goodbye.”

She started to shut the door.

“Wait! Mrs. Henry knows about this.” It was Pastor Harold's voice.

“Well now, I was up half the night with
Ms
. Henry and she didn't say anything about going to church on Saturday.”

I raced down the steps. “He's right, Aunt Maureen! Mama told him she'd work at the church kitchen this morning.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake. I'm going back to bed,” she said.

“Come on in, Pastor Harold. I'll get Mama.”

He stepped inside and I raced past Aunt Maureen on the stairs. Mama wasn't in her room so I knocked on the bathroom door.

“Mama! It's nine o'clock and Pastor Harold is here. You told him you'd be ready to work at the church at nine. Remember?”

Mama opened the door, tying the sash on her robe. “Oh my goodness! Go stall him for me.”

I ran back downstairs. “She's getting ready now, Pastor Harold. Want me to get you some coffee?”

“Sure, coffee would be nice.”

I hurried into the kitchen and pushed the button on the coffeemaker since Mama always put the water and coffee grounds in the night before. Then I got down a mug and the sugar bowl.

“You can sit while it brews,” I said.

“Thank you.” He pulled out a chair and smiled at me. “You're a good hostess.”

Which made me feel way better than it probably should have.

“Don't pay any mind to Aunt Maureen. She just got here from Georgia. She's been Mama's friend for eons.” I was glad to use a word that made me sound like a “hostess” instead of a kid in an outgrown nightgown.

“Oh, that's fine. No one likes to be woken up. I know I don't.”

I poured coffee into his cup and he nodded his thanks.

“By the way, is Caleb around?” he asked. “I'd like to talk to him.”

“He's probably still in bed like I was.”

“So I woke you, too? And you're even nice about it.” His eyes had those little crinkles in the corners again.

I set the pot back on the warmer so it would stay hot for Mama. “Well, I'm sure my mom will be back shortly. I'll go get dressed now.”

And I took off. I met Mama in the hall, smoothing a sweatshirt down over her jeans.

“Do I look all right?” she asked.

“For making noodles? Who cares?”

“Well, I care!”

“You could wear your pajamas to make noodles with old ladies, Mama.”

“They're not all old ladies, Ivy. And Pastor Harold will be there.”

“So?”

“So, I'm just saying I want to look nice, that's all,” she said as she hurried on past me.

The phone rang and Aunt Maureen groaned from the bedroom she was sharing with Mama. “Good Lord, this place is a zoo!”

I quickly picked it up and whispered, “Hello.”

“I just wanted to say thanks for
nothing
, Ivy.” It was Ellen. “Because of you, everyone thinks I'm a lesbian. And not only that, you ran out on me last night!”

“But neither one of us knew that ‘guest' meant boyfriend, Ellen!”

She started bawling. There's no getting through to her when she's a mess like that.

“How about I come over and we can talk about it?” I said.

“Don't bother! If you couldn't stay when I needed you, what good does it do me now?”

“Oh, come on, Ellen! I went to the party, didn't I? I mean, I had to leave before you, but still, I came. And it's not like you cared that I was there, anyway. You weren't even around.”

“I
told
you I had to help!”

“Help do what? Clean up messes? That's not what guests do.”

“You have no idea how hard it is to be in Alexa's group, do you? You have to earn that spot and you just thought you'd sail into it through me. Well, Ivy, I don't need you. I don't want to be seen with you ever again!”

And she hung up the phone! I just kept talking, saying stuff like “Wait a minute!” and “You can't hang up like that!” which was stupid because she wasn't there to hear me. And who cared about Alexa's “group”? I didn't even know she had a
group
. It sounded like she was lead singer in a band or something, not just the queen of a dumb bunch of girls who followed her around. Why would I want to be part of that?

I was brushing my teeth when the phone rang again. I spit and ran into the hall, ready to give Ellen a piece of my mind, when I heard Aunt Maureen's voice.

“I told you I wouldn't be there, Sonny … Yes, I know I've threatened before but this time it's different. Cass needs me. And, honestly, even if she didn't, things haven't been good between you and me for quite a while.”

I peeked around the corner and she was leaning against the wall, her pajamas still on.

“Oh, Sonny. You know I loved you. I probably still do but I can't come back. I'm so lonely and you're never there. I just can't go on this way.” She hung up the phone and wiped tears from under her eyes. I hurried to the bathroom, hung my toothbrush on the rack, then met her in the hall.

“Morning, sunshine. Is it always this busy around here?”

Her eyes were red and she sounded like she had a cold but I pretended not to notice. “Not usually.”

“Thank gawd! I don't think I could take it.”

She tried to act like the fun Aunt Maureen, the one who didn't care about anything. Like her heart wasn't broken, but I knew it was. I had a queasy feeling in my stomach for both her and Uncle Sonny—just like I did when Jack Henry broke Mama's heart.

*   *   *

I washed the breakfast dishes since Aunt Maureen had cooked. She had Caleb running the sweeper and JJ dusting the big, unbreakable pieces of furniture, which was a miracle in itself. When we finished, JJ asked Caleb to go with him to see the “hungry Haitians” by Harmony Street Blues.

“Who?” I asked.

“The people Daddy showed me. The ones who don't have houses or money.”

“They don't have houses so that means they're homeless, JJ. You have no business going there at all, not even with Caleb.”

“You're mean!” JJ called as he ran outside.

I turned to Caleb. “You go get him. You're the one putting ideas in his head.”

Caleb left, and through the open door I saw Pastor Harold's silver ball of a car pull up. He got out and opened Mama's door for her. I watched them from the window. Mama leaned back against his car and smiled a lot. Then they both really laughed. They talked a bit longer and then she must have asked him in. I jumped back from the window, flopped down on the couch, and grabbed a magazine like I'd been reading it instead of trying to read their lips.

“Have a seat,” Mama said. “I'll get that iced tea.”

I looked over the top of the magazine. Pastor Harold chuckled.

“What's so funny?” I asked.

He lifted the magazine out of my hands and rotated it.

“It might read easier right side up,” he said.

I felt my face getting warm.

“That's okay. Spying on grownups was always my favorite pastime, too.”

“I don't spy!” I said.

“Well, paying attention to them,” he said. “How's that?”

“I haven't seen any grownups come around here who are worth paying attention to,” I said.

He laughed. “Ivy, you're all right.”

“So I've been told.”

“Maybe you haven't been paying attention to me but I have to you. I listened to your concerns about Caleb.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I decided that, interim pastor or no, I should know more about my flock.”

Mama came in with three glasses of iced tea. “Where's Maureen?”

“Upstairs, I think,” I said.

I about fell over when she handed me a glass. But then she ruined it by saying, “Well, go get her, please. And give her that tea.”

My jaw dropped and my mouth hung open. I set the glass down on the table with a bang and went looking for Aunt Maureen.

“If you're going to ignore my instructions, Ivy, you could at least use a coaster!” Mama called after me.

I found Aunt Maureen sitting on the bed, plugged into her iPod and filing her nails. I waved my hand in front of her face to get her attention.

“Mama wants you downstairs.” I kept the sour look on my face.

“My what an attitude you have,” she drawled. She slid her long legs over the side and stretched like a cat. “Keep that up and the crown for Miss Congeniality will definitely be yours.”

Deep down I knew I wasn't mad at her, just Mama, but right then I was angry and sometimes that makes you mad at everybody you see.

Aunt Maureen followed me downstairs. Pastor Harold looked up. “Ivy, I was just telling your mom about something that I could use your help with.”

“Me?”

“Unless there's another girl named Ivy in the room.” He held out his glass. “Maybe you could get yourself one of these and join us.”

I beat it into the kitchen, thankful that at least Pastor Harold had noticed that I got left out. There was just enough tea left for me. I even thought about adding a slice of lemon, this being sort of an occasion and all, but why ruin a good glass of tea with a bitter piece of fruit?

I carried it back into the room and Pastor Harold continued, “As I was saying, this stove burns corn. It was a parting gift from the last church I served.”

“Seems like an odd gift for someone who makes their living moving from place to place,” Mama said.

He chuckled. “I guess that's true. It was a poor parish. Somebody probably had it and didn't know what to do with it. But, you know, it's the thought that counts, right? Anyway, I just have an apartment and, as you said, I move around so it won't do me any good. I'd be happy to come and install it. It would make heating this house much more affordable.”

“I'm all for that,” Mama said. “I hadn't let myself think ahead to this fall. But is it safe? I'm not sure how it even works.”

“I guess the simplest way to explain it is that it works much like a wood-burning stove only you feed it dried corn. Like this.” He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and found a scrap of paper in his pants. He began drawing a picture and Mama scooted over to see it. They put their heads together and murmured softly.