“Yes?” He looked at her.
“I’ll come Saturday. And, well…” She pulled her hair over to one side and her face took on that pink blush again. “I’d be grateful to take you up on that ride.”
Then she went from looking all nice and sweet to saying in her brisk voice—the one I’m more used to—“Ivy, come.”
I hopped off my chair but looked back as I followed Mama. Pastor Harold’s eyes met mine and I felt like we were both hanging on, caught up in the wake of Mama.
9
“Oh, honey, of course you can send home food for your babies!” Magdalena said to Mama.
She pulled out three Styrofoam trays and began piling in biscuits with sausage gravy.
“I’m really sorry about this,” Mama said. “I’ll get to the bottom of what happened to the food when I get home.”
“Now don’t you worry. Those boys were just hungry. No need to make them feel bad about that.” Magdalena flashed a smile at me. “You sure are a pretty thing.”
I’d have liked to return the compliment but she had on so much makeup I couldn’t really tell if she was pretty or not. Instead I just smiled my thanks. She stacked the containers in my arms and Mama walked me to the door. “Hurry on home, now. And don’t spill them!”
“Which do you want me to do? Hurry or not spill them?” I asked. Even through the Styrofoam, I could feel the heat of the gravy. Plus they were heavy and awkward.
“I’ll be happy to drive her.” Pastor Harold handed Ed some bills at the cash register, then opened the door for me.
“That would be so sweet of you!” Mama’s voice practically dripped in syrup.
“No problem!” he said.
Did anyone ask me if it was a problem? Or if I wanted to go with him? No, they did not. But I really didn’t want to walk all that way, and if Pastor Harold turned out to be a serial killer and this was the end of me, well, that would serve Mama right, wouldn’t it?
Pastor Harold opened the rounded trunk of his car and set the containers flat on the floor. There wasn’t much room for anything else.
“They’ll ride better this way.” He slammed the trunk shut.
“Is this the world’s smallest car?” I asked. “It’s a wonder you fit inside.”
“Well, I do have an old beat-up truck that I use sometimes. It’s almost as old as I am.” He laughed. “But I drive this because I like to think of it as doing my best to conserve fuel—and money, of which I don’t have a lot.” He smiled that nice smile again.
“I prefer to think of it as a futuristic Easter egg,” I said.
He laughed. “Ivy, you’re all right.”
“I know that.” I tossed my head so my hair would swing back but I looked out my side window so he wouldn’t see how happy his words made me. “So they must not pay interim preachers a lot, huh?”
“Nope,” he said. “But then, they don’t pay regular ones much, either. That’s why it’s referred to as a ‘calling.’ You have to get your pleasure from helping people, not from your salary.”
“Well, if you wanted to both help people and make money, why didn’t you let Caleb move in with you? You could have helped the Bennetts and got paid, too.” Not to mention, I wouldn’t be stuck with him.
“Lots of reasons, I guess. I’ve never been married or a father so I thought Caleb would do better with a family. I’d heard enough good things about your mother to feel comfortable recommending her. And it all happened so fast. I didn’t know much about the Bennetts so I didn’t realize they were looking for a place for him to stay. Their mission talk was scheduled before I came to this church.”
He stopped the car, unbuckled his seat belt, and popped the trunk. It took me a minute to think about what he said. When I got to the back of the car, he handed me one of the dinners and said he’d carry the other two.
“Wait.” I shifted the container then looked him in the eye. “Do you realize what you just said? You don’t know the Bennetts at all yet you let my mother move Caleb into the same house as us.” I thought about Caleb’s claim that he’d been to Haiti when it was as obvious as the nose on his face that his parents were strictly the Minnesota Missionary types. “I’ve caught him lying. Now he may be stealing food from us and lying about that as well. Doesn’t any of that bother you?”
“Stealing? And lying? What kind of lies?”
“He fills JJ’s head with his ‘world travels.’ Do you think that’s true?”
“That Caleb has traveled the world? Not that I know of.”
“Then that’s a lie.” I focused on that instead of how sometimes I let him tell those fibs to keep JJ occupied. Still, lying was lying, right? “Mama said Mr. Bennett was a teacher and now he’s a vice principal. And you heard their talk on mission work in Minnesota. You know Mr. and Mrs. Bennett have probably never traveled anywhere that didn’t have a Holiday Inn.”
His forehead was scrunched like he was thinking. “Lots of people hold down jobs and still do mission work. As for them not traveling for it, maybe Caleb is embarrassed that they haven’t. Maybe he’s trying to make you—and himself—feel they’re doing something important.”
“And maybe he’s a psycho, but we don’t know, do we? Because here we are, stuck with him, and no one but me worries about it at all.”
He seemed to be absorbing what I said. Problem is, it took him a little too long and I was way too mad. “You know what?” I said. “I don’t need your help getting the food into the house. Thanks for the ride.”
I grabbed the Styrofoam containers from him and marched up the sidewalk before he knew what hit him.
“Ivy, wait!” he called. “At least let me get the door.”
“You’ve done enough.”
And it was a little bit of a struggle getting the door open but I did it myself. I didn’t need his help with the food or anything else. I could handle taking care of my own family.
JJ almost knocked me over as soon as I walked in. He snatched one of the containers out of my hands and darted off with it. He sure didn’t act like a kid who had already eaten. I set Caleb’s down on the kitchen table—not directly handing it to him—then gave him a look that even an idiot would know meant that I suspected he’d lied to me and had already eaten. I took my own container up to my room to eat alone.
I wasn’t even halfway through when the phone rang and it was Ellen.
“Ivy League! Whatcha doin’?”
“Oh, just finishing my dinner.”
“When you get done, why don’t you bring your new clothes over so I can see you in them?”
“Let me finish this last bite.” I swallowed hard. A Trucker’s Sausage Biscuit Delight isn’t the easiest thing to get down, plus I needed time to think. I’d told Ellen the clothes fit when I didn’t know if they did or not.
“I can’t come. See, Mama’s at work right now and I have to babysit JJ.”
“Oh! No problemo. I’ll just come over there. See you in ten.”
“No! Wait!” But she’d hung up.
“Crap, crap, double crap!” I yanked open my dresser drawer and pulled out the clothes. One thing I knew was that I didn’t want her to see Caleb here.
I quickly pulled the T-shirt I’d been wearing over my head and stepped out of my old jeans. I struggled into the blue sweater. It fit tighter and shorter than I like but it didn’t show my stomach once I tugged the jeans on. I was just snapping them when I heard the doorbell.
“I’ll get it!” I yelled, racing down the stairs.
I glanced toward the kitchen and saw Caleb looking down the hall at me but he stayed put, thank God. I yanked the door open and stepped outside real quick.
“Hey!” I said.
“Oh! Look how awesome you look! See, I knew that blue was an amazing color for you.”
“Yep. Uh-huh. You did a good job picking them out,” I said, smoothing the front of the sweater.
“Let’s go inside and practice putting on makeup,” she said. “I know it’s not something you’re used
to.”
“Oh! Well…” Good grief, how was I going to get out of this? “Did I mention that JJ is sick?” I crossed my fingers behind my back because Aunt Maureen told me once that if you tell a lie, it might come true.
“No, what’s the matter with him?”
“I guess I won’t know until Mama gets home later. I don’t want you to catch it so I’d hate for you to come inside.”
“No worries. I can put it on you right here. Bring a mirror out so you can learn how to apply it yourself.”
I took two deep breaths. Now I not only had to keep her out, I had to keep JJ and Caleb in. Plus I had to wear makeup.
“Wait here.”
I ran into the kitchen first. “Caleb?”
He looked up from washing his fork.
“I need you to keep JJ inside and I need you to not ask me why.” Dang, I hated asking for help, especially from him, so I ended with “Can you help me or not? ’Cause if you can’t, don’t say you can.”
“I’ll read a story to JJ upstairs.” Which, I knew from experience, was the closest I was going to get to a “yes.”
“Okay.” I took the stairs two at a time. I skidded to a halt in my room, then lifted the mirror off my wall since I didn’t have anything smaller.
“Ivy, what’re you doing?” JJ asked.
“Never mind. Stay put! Caleb will be right up.” I ran downstairs.
“Why?”
“He’s going to read you a story!” I yelled over my shoulder, and hurried back outside.
I slid down onto the step next to Ellen. “Whew!” I pulled the sweater away from my sweaty neck.
She unscrewed the cap off a tube of cream and squirted some pink-colored stuff out onto her hand. “This is foundation. We’ll rub this all over your face.”
“Oh, Ellen, maybe this isn’t the best time. I mean, I’m sweaty. It’s hot. Do we have to do it now?”
She put her foundation-free hand on her hip. “I knew this would happen, Ivy. It’s not right for you to be so stubborn when I’m sharing this with you plus giving you a free lesson on how to wear it.”
“I appreciate all that, Ellen, really I do.” Okay, I didn’t but I also didn’t want to fight. “But … is my face so bad the way it is?”
“I didn’t say that. But everyone can use some help. I mean, you’ve got deep-set eyes, for heaven’s sake. That makes them look close together. A little color on the outside corners will separate them more. And some bronzer might make your nose look longer and not so pugged. Not to mention your lips.”
“Okay! Okay. I get the idea.”
I tilted my head up so she could get to my face but it really stung to hear that she thought my eyes were too close together and I had a pug nose. She made me sound like I had a pig’s face.
She’d just finished slathering on the foundation when the door opened with a bang and JJ ran down the porch stairs.
“JJ!” I called.
“He doesn’t look sick to me,” Ellen said.
“Um … symptoms come and go.” I hopped up and ran after my little brother. I caught up with him as he was rounding the corner of the house.
“You’re supposed to stay inside!” I said.
“I don’t wanna! Let go, Ivy!”
Then Caleb came running, too. “I was only in the bathroom for a minute.”
Ellen said, “What’s he doing here?”
But JJ was putting up a real struggle. I realized it didn’t matter if he stayed outside or not since Ellen had seen Caleb, so I let go. When I did, he staggered and clutched his stomach. He turned away from us and out fell brown and creamy chunks.
“Ew! He’s vomiting!” Ellen jumped up.
“JJ! Are you all right, buddy?” I felt terrible. I’d lied and said he was sick and now he really was.
“Ivy, you know I can’t stand vomit!” Ellen took off running. She was skinny and quick, already almost half a block away.
“I’ll call you later!” I yelled after her.
I looked at my little brother. This was my fault. I put my hand on JJ’s forehead, like Mama always did, to check for a fever. But that’s when I realized that he wasn’t clutching his stomach because it hurt.
“That’s not vomit, mister. That’s your supper.” I pulled his hands from his stomach and the crushed Styrofoam container fell with the biscuits spilling from it. “Just where were you going with it?”
“I was just gonna eat outside, that’s all!” he said.
“That’s a lie, JJ.” I looked at Caleb. “Good people don’t lie or make up stories. Now get inside this very minute. You need a bath.”
“I don’t want a bath!”
But I didn’t want Mama coming home to find him this way, especially when I’d already bothered her at the restaurant. So I said, “You should have thought before you ran out here and made such a mess.”
“But Caleb is reading me a story.”
“I’ll tell you a story instead,” Caleb said. “Come. It’s a funny story. About bathing.”
We all went inside. I ran a bubble bath for JJ. He raised his arms and I pulled his gooey shirt off. It made me feel sad for a minute to see how little he looked without a shirt on. Like he was still a baby.
“Okay, hop in,” I said.
He jumped in with a plop, spraying the floor with soap bubbles. He splashed around, sending more bubbles flying. I wondered how Mama got anything done, as much work as this kid was.
“Caleb!” I called. “Wasn’t there a story you were gonna tell?”
He came into the room and turned the light out.
“Hey!” I said. “What’re you doing?”
“Fluorescent lighting can be very distracting.” Caleb sat on the floor. “Natural lighting is more soothing.”
“Whatever.” There was enough light coming in through the window. I lathered up the washcloth and tried to catch JJ’s face.
“Is it a story about Haiti?” JJ pushed my hand away.
“It’s about the outdoor shower that was built there to accommodate the missionaries.”
JJ stopped squirming, completely focused on Caleb, which gave me time to focus—on his dirty neck.
“This new shower didn’t smell bad the way the old indoor one did but was much draftier because there was no roof,” Caleb said. “I was showering when I first heard laughter. As it kept up, I began looking around and found that the Haitians had knocked a hole in the shower wall and several people were watching me as I bathed.”
“They saw you naked?” JJ’s voice was high.
“No, luckily I had worn my swimsuit.”
I listened because, as I’ve already told you, that’s the best way to find out anything. Anyway, as I listened, it occurred to me that “bathed” and “swimsuit” weren’t words a boy our age usually used. Weird.
Caleb continued. “One of the men from the compound came to investigate and stayed in the shower with me to guard the hole. He would spit in the person’s face whenever they looked through the hole. After a time, he got tired so I filled my soap dish with water and threw the soapy mixture out the hole whenever a face appeared.”
JJ squealed with laughter. “Like this?” And he cupped his hands into the soapy bathwater and threw it at Caleb, getting me wet in the bargain.
“JJ Henry! Look at what you’ve done!” I said.
JJ jumped from the tub. I tried to grab him but he slipped out of my hands like a wet catfish. He sloshed down the hall, trailing water.
Caleb headed after him.
“I’ll take care of my brother!” I pushed past him, then slid in a water puddle and fell, banging my shoulder on the doorframe.
“JJ, get back here this instant!” I called, rubbing my sore arm. I sidestepped the trail of water he left and got just past Mama’s room when the phone rang. JJ began chanting, “No! I’m running from the nosy people! I’m hiding from those nosy Haitians!”
I grabbed the phone and shouted, “What?!” into the receiver, trying to be heard over JJ’s ranting
.
There was silence for a beat and then Aunt Maureen’s voice said, “I guess I don’t need to ask how things are going there. Sounds like the place is going to hell in a handbasket.”
What could I say? She was right. And with me in charge, too. That’s when I started bawling like a big ole baby.
10
I sat with my legs drawn up under my favorite nightgown, an old flannel one that used to touch the floor. I liked its softness so much I just kept on wearing it while my body grew two feet taller. Now it came above my knees, but wearing it always made me feel safe and, tonight, I needed it. Mama was soaking her feet in the kitchen and talking to Aunt Maureen. Listening was more like it. And that meant I wasn’t hearing much of the conversation.
Before Mama had come home, Aunt Maureen had calmed me down. I’d taken off the clothes Ellen had bought me and showered. Caleb had corralled JJ, dressed him in pajamas, and read him a story. JJ was asleep before Mama got here.
But Aunt Maureen had called her right after Mama arrived. I’m sure Mama heard all about how Aunt Maureen had to get me to stop crying and give me tips on calming JJ down for the night.
“He’s never been wild like this before!” I’d sobbed to her.
“He’s always had his mother home at night, Ivy. He’s so young. He thinks it’s playtime. He needs to know the rules haven’t changed.”
But they have.
“He needs to know who’s boss.”
Me, too.
“You’ve got to be strong for him, Ivy.”
Who’s going to be strong for me?
And now I figured both she and Mama were talking about what a failure I was. I wished Mama would do more than say “Mm-hm. Yes, I see.” It was giving me nothing to go on and I wasn’t feeling brave enough to chance her hearing me pick up the phone. Finally I just went to bed because babysitting was turning into a job that completely wore me out.
* * *
I got through the next two days all right. JJ didn’t seem quite as bad, or maybe I was getting used to it. I’d gone outside to eat at lunchtime to avoid Ellen. I’d been embarrassed to face her after she’d seen Caleb at my house. But on Friday morning, Ellen was waiting. She nabbed me the second I got off the school bus.
Ivy in the Shadows Page 7
