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 f
amous horses that have won the Kentucky Derby.
I wish I’d saved up more money for this trip, though, because when we got to the admissions desk, I saw that I had enough to get in, but riding was extra. Mr. Combs bought the ticket for my ride. I’m eating their food, using their tickets, wearing Catherine’s clothes, taking their money…. Seems like they’re doing all the giving and me the taking. Doesn’t make me feel good. Must be the way Daddy feels most of the time, taking help from Papaw.
But I did learn to ride a horse, and if Sam Feeley ever rides up to our place again with a message sent on his ham radio, I’m going to pester him for a ride!
Ivy June Mosley
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
March 21
Tomorrow Ivy June goes back to Thunder Creek. A week later, Mrs. Fields will drive me to Hazard, and somebody from Ivy June’s school will meet us there and drive me the rest of the way. Rosemary hasn’t said one more word against Ivy June and the exchange program. I’m waiting….
We’ve done a lot this week. We took her to Mary Todd Lincoln’s house and Old Kentucky Chocolates. Saw the state capital and the Lexington History Museum. There was a concert of John Jacob Niles’s songs at the university, and Ivy June liked that a lot because she knew some of the songs.
She liked the Kentucky Horse Park best, though. I knew she would. But she wanted to pay for her own ticket and then found she didn’t have enough left for a ride-it was twenty-two dollars, I think. Dad ‘immediately paid for her, but we knew she was embarrassed. He and Mom. were talking about it, and he said he ought to have made it clear her first day here that we would pay for anything we took her to. But Mom said then the Mosleys might feel they have to pay for every place they take me when I’m in Thunder Creek, and maybe they cant afford it.
The main thing is, Ivy June finally got to ride a horse-a long ride too. We rode all around the park, and I could see how excited she was.
Mackenzie’s back from Cincinnati and has been since Wednesday but she just now called me and said we had to talk. I told her I knew what it was about. She said if I already knew, why didn’t I tell her before about Andy calling me? And I said because she was my very best friend in the whole world, and I was afraid she’d be hurt if she found out.
What if it was the other way around? I asked. What if I was the one who liked Andy best, but he kept calling her? So we talked, and she said she’d already guessed that Andy was calling me before Ivy June blurted it out. What she was really upset about was that maybe I was telling Ivy June all my secrets–about boyfriends and stuff–and I told her that wasn’t true.
I’m sorry to see Ivy June go, though. And maybe a little scared about what it will be like living in Thunder Creek. If there’s anybody as rude to me as Rosemary’s been to her, well …
I wonder what she’s writing in her journal about my family. Wonder what she’ll tell her mom. What she’ll tell her class. We’re supposed to write down all the ways we’re different and all the ways we’re the same. I’m guessing the second list will be longer, but who knows?
Catherine Combs
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ivy June laid out the clothes she would wear for the drive back to Thunder Creek the next morning and put the rest in her suitcase. She carefully placed the playbill from Oklahoma! in last. She was going to keep that forever.
She knew what was coming, because Catherine was sitting expectantly on the other bed, hands in her lap. And when the suitcase closed with a snap, Catherine said, “Okay. Now. The secret.”
Ivy June, still in her pajamas, sat down across from her, pulling a corner of the spread over her legs for comfort. “All right,” she said, “and no one in the whole world knows it except you, not even Shirl.”
Catherine waited.
Ivy June took a deep breath. “Remember that mine accident I told about in class?”
Catherine nodded. “Where the men were trapped and it was all night before they were rescued?”
“Yes. Well, not everybody was alive.”
Catherine’s eyes grew wide.
“We just knew there was a cave-in. We didn’t know if rock had fallen on anybody, whether the miners were trapped or dead. We waited and waited to hear if the rescuers had found anybody, and finally they sent up word that at least some of the men were still alive. But they wouldn’t give out any names.”
“That must have been awful!” said Catherine.
Ivy June nodded and steeled herself to continue: “This was last year, only a month after I’d gone to live with Mammaw and Papaw, and I was really liking it there. We all had the worry about the mine and what could happen—that’s just the way we live in Thunder Creek—but this time, for me, the worry was something fierce. I prayed to God that if anybody had to die, it wouldn’t be Papaw. I knew there were other men in there who were loved by their families, though, same as I loved my grandfather. So then I figured Luke Weller’s daddy would be missed the least, because I knew he got ugly when he was drinking, and Luke told me he drank a lot on Saturday nights. So I prayed to God that if he had to take somebody, he’d take George Weller.”
Catherine said nothing, so Ivy June barreled on.
“And then—when the missing men were found and only one was dead—Mr. Weller—I didn’t know whether to thank Jesus or ask him to forgive me. And now that I’ve seen what a misery it’s been for Luke’s big family—they can hardly get by—the worry’s been worse. One of Luke’s sisters is on drugs and a brother’s in jail. It might be that because of my selfishness, God’s going to teach me a lesson, and the next person he takes will be Papaw.”
“No!” Catherine said. “You can’t believe God would do that, Ivy June!”
“He made it be George Weller, didn’t he?”
“Luke’s father could have died before you ever prayed that prayer!”
“We don’t know that. Maybe it happened after I prayed,” Ivy June argued, hoping all the while that Catherine was right.
“You’re not that powerful, Ivy June! Just because you pray for something doesn’t make it happen!”
“When Grandmommy was sick with the flu last year and I prayed for her, she got better!” Ivy June insisted. “Don’t you believe in God, Cat?”
“Yes, but I don’t believe he does every little thing people ask him to do. That’s like … like magical thinking. That even though God already knew who was going to die, you could make him change his mind. And I certainly don’t believe he kills people just to teach somebody a lesson!”
Ivy June didn’t know whether to be relieved or skeptical. She nervously traced one finger over the weave in the bedspread. “After Papaw was rescued and Mammaw told him how much I’d cried, the next time he went in the mine he brought me out a little rock. Told me to hold it in my hand next time I worried, see how hard it was. Said to remember that he’s as strong and solid as that rock.”
Ivy June hunched her shoulders and was quiet for a minute. Then, “I keep praying for Papaw to live so he can retire from the mine and breathe mountain air, not coal dust. But other people have prayed for their fathers and grandfathers too, and some of those men didn’t make it. Papaw’s been in the mine now longer than anybody else, so chances are—”
Catherine interrupted. “Chances are he’s careful and he’s going to come out just fine!”
“Unless God wants to make me pay …”
“If God wants to make you pay, he’ll let you fall off a ladder and break your neck, Ivy June, but he won’t kill your grandfather!” Catherine said firmly. Then she added, “But in case you’re worrying about me telling your secret, I’m not going to tell anyone else what you told me.”
“Then you’re a better friend than I’ve been to you,” said Ivy June.
“Hey, we’re only halfway through the exchange program,” Catherine said. “You may hate me when it’s over.” And then she added, “Don’t forget to pack your pajamas.” That made them both laugh.
The following day, Ivy June said goodbye to Peter and Clai
re and Mr. and Mrs. Combs and Catherine. Everyone hugged her, and Flora took pictures of them together on the wide front porch. Then Mrs. Fields came by in her green car, with Buckner Academy for Girls in silver on the driver’s door, and Ivy June climbed inside.
It was Daddy who met her at the library in Hazard, not Papaw. He was parked outside the building, and walked over to get her suitcase.
“Mrs. Fields, this is my daddy,” Ivy June said, having learned from Catherine that you always introduce the woman first, unless the man is somebody very old or very famous.
“How do,” her father said, and shook the hand of the tall woman, who had removed her sunglasses and was smiling at him.
“We so enjoyed having your daughter with us at Buckner,” Mrs. Fields said.
“I ’spect she enjoyed herself some too,” Mr. Mosley answered.
“Oh, I did,” said Ivy June. “And Catherine’s really nice.”
“You’ll see her again in a week,” Mrs. Fields said. “Goodbye, dear. I hope Catherine’s visit with you will go as well as yours with us. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Mosley.”
“Same here.”
Ivy June’s father carried the old yellow suitcase to the pickup truck and heaved it over the side. Ivy June climbed into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed.
Mr. Mosley started the engine.
Faith, Hope, and Ivy June Page 8
