Ivy in the Shadows

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Ivy in the Shadows Page 11

by Chris Woodworth


  Halfway to my room I heard Mama and Aunt Maureen giggling from Mama’s bedroom. You’d never have known they were being all snippy to each other before. I shook my head and then buried it in my math book.

  When I finally came up for air, I was really hungry. I put my books away and went for a snack, but I stopped dead in my tracks when I walked into the kitchen.

  There was Mama; only it wasn’t like I’d ever seen her. She had on a dress that was held up by two little straps, showing off her shoulders. Her hair was really straight and shiny. It looked so soft and it kind of flew out a little when she moved her head. She had on makeup and, well, she looked better than a movie star.

  “Wow, Mama. You look beautiful,” I said.

  She smiled. “Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t know about all that, though.”

  “No, she’s right.” It was Pastor Harold. He’d walked up behind me and I hadn’t heard his footsteps. “Absolutely beautiful, Cass.”

  Mama’s lips parted a little and her eyes got all soft. Pastor Harold looked like a guy who’d seen his first meal after a weeklong fast.

  “Hark! It’s Harold,” Aunt Maureen said. “Now if just the angels’d sing.”

  We all laughed because she said it in a joking way, not a mean one like before.

  “You look lovely, too, Maureen,” he said.

  “Well, thank you,” she said. “I do try. How’s that stove coming?”

  “Pretty good. Almost done,” he said, then his eyes went back to Mama.

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done for us,” she said.

  He whispered, “You’re welcome.” And the look he gave Mama made her pretty face turn pink. She fiddled with her hair, then looked at her wrist. “Oh my goodness, I forgot my watch. I’ll be right back.”

  Pastor Harold watched Mama walk away. Aunt Maureen rolled her eyes and said, “I have a question for you, Harold. When’s the last time you had a good meal?”

  “Home-cooked? It’s been a while,” he said.

  “I’ve made a batch of stew and it’s delicious, if I do say so myself,” Aunt Maureen said.

  “It sounds wonderful!” he said.

  “Great! Cass and I are leaving now.”

  “You ladies aren’t staying to eat with us?” he asked.

  “No, we’re having dinner first with an old classmate, Derek. He and I have kept in touch over the years and he lives right there in Indianapolis. He’s bringing his friend for Cass. Or, who knows? Maybe I’ll end up without a date. They may both want her, as pretty as she looks tonight.”

  Pastor Harold looked confused at first. Then his eyes narrowed. “I see.”

  Just then Mama came back into the room. “I’ll give you Maureen’s cell phone number. I’m afraid I don’t have one.” She wrote it on the refrigerator door grocery list. “We’ll try not to be late. JJ’s bedtime is eight. Please don’t even think about the dishes. You and the kids have worked so hard today. I’ll get them in the morning.”

  He didn’t look at Mama. “Well, you ladies have a nice time. I’ll see to it that JJ is in bed at eight.”

  He turned and left the room.

  “Are you ready, Cass?” Aunt Maureen said.

  “I don’t know,” Mama said. “I feel bad, Maureen. He’s here to help and we’re taking advantage of him.”

  Aunt Maureen put her hand on Mama’s arm. “We’ve been through this. You deserve a night out. He’s here, anyway. He’s getting a nice meal out of it, and if you don’t believe that, then you’ve never had my stew. Now let’s get going. We don’t want to be late.”

  Mama kissed me on the forehead. “Here’s an early goodnight kiss.” Then she went to say goodbye to JJ and Caleb. I hoped she did the same to Pastor Harold. Tell him goodbye, I mean, not give him a kiss.

  “Sugar, don’t stay up too late,” Aunt Maureen said. “Try to keep the noise to a dull roar in the morning, okay? And lock the doors tonight. Your mama and I won’t be home until the wee small hours!”

  “But Mama said you wouldn’t be late.”

  “Mama forgets what it’s like to have a good time.” She spun and danced her way out of the room, throwing me a wink as she left. I wasn’t really crazy about the way Aunt Maureen was acting. I preferred the old Aunt Maureen. The one who was nice to everybody, including Uncle Sonny. Then I felt guilty. She came all this way to help us—whether or not I thought we needed her help was beside the point. She did work hard here and she sure made Mama happy.

  Caleb and JJ helped Pastor Harold put away his tools and ladder while I warmed the stew. Pastor Harold sat back and moaned after the first bite. “Oh, wow. This has to be the best stew I’ve ever eaten.” Then he dug in. I hadn’t cooked it and didn’t make any claim to have helped. But I did warm it so his liking it made me feel like I had cooked it.

  He even did the dishes afterward while I put the leftover stew away. He didn’t have to do that, since Mama had told him not to, but I didn’t try to stop him, either.

  “Okay.” He rubbed his hands together and looked at the clock. “Seven-thirty. Ivy, what’s next on the to-do list?”

  “It’s JJ’s bath and then bed,” I said.

  “I’ll bet you’re a big help to your mom. You probably know how to handle your brother.”

  I looked down so that stupid grin wouldn’t take over my face again.

  “I do all right,” I said.

  “So how about you take care of JJ while Caleb and I take out the trash?”

  “Okay!”

  It felt good taking care of JJ again. I had more patience with him than I used to. I poured bubble bath in the tub and we took turns making bubble beards on our faces. Then I tucked him into bed and he fell asleep almost immediately, no story needed.

  I came out of JJ’s room, expecting to find Pastor Harold and Caleb downstairs, but they were in Caleb’s room, both sitting on the side of his bed, looking through Caleb’s books. It felt like they had some big secret that I wasn’t a part of.

  I went downstairs and flipped on the television. When Pastor Harold finally came downstairs, I pretended I’d fallen asleep. He covered me with the throw that was spread over the back of the couch and turned the television off. It was kind of a lie, me pretending to be asleep. But it was better than the truth, which was that I felt left out.

  Suddenly my eyes snapped open. That’s exactly how Caleb would have felt at Alexa’s party. So, I strove for the greater good and said, “Thanks for all you did today.”

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered.

  He probably thought I just meant the stove.

  14

  JJ dropped his cup at breakfast the next morning. It broke, spraying milk and glass shards everywhere. Mama and I jumped up to grab paper towels but Aunt Maureen stood completely still with her back to us at the counter. When she turned around, her eyes were red and bloodshot.

  “Must we be so loud?” she asked.

  “It was an accident,” JJ said.

  “I know, sweetie. I wasn’t talking about you dropping the cup. I was talking about the sound the milk drops make hitting the floor.” She popped two aspirin in her mouth and swallowed them without water. I wondered how a person could do that. “Don’t mind me, JJ. I just seem to have picked up a little ol’ bug of some sort.”

  It looked like the same kind of “bug” that Jack Henry used to get when he was out drinking the night before.

  I’d woken up, still on the couch, when Aunt Maureen came staggering in the door with Mama helping her up the stairs. Pastor Harold slipped outside without saying a word to either one of them.

  “Mm-hm.” Mama winked at Aunt Maureen. “And maybe you wouldn’t have picked up that ‘bug’ if you’d been the designated driver.”

  “No, no, you made the perfect one. Last night was worth it. If these blasted kids of yours would just stop making all that racket by breathing.” Then she looked at me out of the corner of her eye and gave me that perfect Aunt Maureen smile. The one that lets you kn
ow that, no matter what her words say, she loves you to pieces.

  Mama went to the refrigerator to get more milk. “Maureen, your stew must have been a huge hit.”

  “It was!” I said. Aunt Maureen flinched, so I said in a quieter voice, “Pastor Harold loved it.”

  “Too bad I didn’t get to taste it,” Mama said. “You’ll have to make it again sometime.”

  “You can eat the leftovers, Mama,” I said.

  “There aren’t any, sweetheart. That’s why I said it must have been a hit.”

  “Sure there are.” I got up and opened the refrigerator door. She was right. The bowl was gone.

  “But … that doesn’t make sense. I put them in here myself.”

  I turned and saw JJ and Caleb looking at each other. Caleb tore his eyes from JJ and said, “I got hungry in the night, ma’am.”

  “Oh! Well, that’s just fine. Our home is yours, Caleb. If you get hungry then you can eat anything we have.”

  But I saw the way he had looked at JJ and I didn’t believe him. Not one bit.

  The doorbell rang and Aunt Maureen groaned at the sound. I ran to the door thinking it would be Pastor Harold with the load of corn he’d promised. Instead I opened the door to the biggest bouquet of flowers I’d ever seen. It was made of every color you could imagine and the scent of them made it feel like spring had paid us a visit.

  I took them from the delivery boy, staggering a little under the weight, and thanked him. Then I carried them into the kitchen.

  “Would you look at this!” I said.

  “Oh my goodness!” Mama said, and cleared a place on the table. She grabbed the card from the bouquet and then a funny look came over her face.

  “Maureen, they’re for you.”

  “Me?” Aunt Maureen said. “Oh, Sonny needs to give up. I’m not moving back.”

  “They aren’t from Sonny,” Mama said.

  Aunt Maureen frowned. “Give me that card.” Then her face lit up and she cackled. She set the card on the table and leaned in to smell the flowers.

  I grabbed the card before anyone could stop me. I read, “To the beautiful lady who stole my heart. Yours anytime you want, Derek.”

  “But you’re married, Aunt Maureen,” I said. “You can’t be stealing anybody’s heart.”

  “First off, sweetie, I didn’t steal anybody’s anything. It’s not my fault if he’s got a thang for me.” She pulled a flower out of the bouquet and stuck it behind her ear. “Secondly, whether or not I’m married is debatable since I no longer live with Sonny. And second of all.”

  “You already said second,” JJ said. “Next comes third. Even I know that.”

  “And it’s a good thing I have you here to keep me straight, JJ.” Aunt Maureen smiled but it was more of an annoyed one than a real grin. “Third, Ivy, is a lesson you need to learn right now. Never slam a door on an opportunity. Derek just might be the man of my dreams.”

  “He didn’t seem like he’d changed much since high school to me,” Mama said. “Come on, Maureen, you couldn’t stand him back then!”

  “Touché,” Aunt Maureen said. “But what’s that old expression? Something about kissing a few frogs before finding Prince Charming?”

  She pulled the card from my hand and stuck it back in the plastic holder, then set the bouquet on the living room coffee table.

  JJ and I followed her.

  “I like Uncle Sonny,” JJ said. “Why can’t he be your Prince Charming anymore?”

  Aunt Maureen got very still. She pushed back her hair and raised her face. When she did, her eyes were shiny.

  “Would you look at me?” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I guess that bug is turning into a full-blown cold.”

  * * *

  Mama left to buy groceries and Aunt Maureen went up to rest in Mama’s room. The doorbell rang again.

  JJ ran to the door and threw it open. “Hi, Pastor Harold!”

  “Hey, JJ.” He patted JJ’s head. “Are you tired from all that bird catching yesterday?”

  “Nope!”

  The phone rang. I waited for Aunt Maureen to pick it up.

  “Well, that’s good. We’ve got corn to unload. It’s a little chilly, so you’re going to need a jacket. And definitely gloves.”

  “Aw…” JJ pouted.

  “For blisters. You don’t want those.”

  “Oh, okay.” JJ ran to get his jacket and gloves. Pastor Harold called after him, “Yo, sport! Is your mom here?”

  I heard JJ yell out, “No! She left right after the flowers came!”

  “Flowers?” Pastor Harold asked. He touched a petal of one of the pink carnations as he craned his neck at an angle to read the card. I’d snooped enough in my life to know he didn’t want it to look like he was reading the card, but I knew he was.

  By then the phone had rung about four times so I grabbed it.

  “Hey, Ivy.”

  “Ellen, hey!” My heart did a triple beat. “What’s up?”

  “I want my things back.”

  “Things?” I said. “What things?”

  Ellen let out a lungful of air into the phone. “The clothes I bought you. I want them back.”

  A million questions came to mind. Why are you doing this to me? Why don’t you want me around anymore? Aren’t I hurting enough? But all I could get out was the first word. “Why?”

  “Because they’re mine, that’s why.”

  And, suddenly, I was so mad I decided not to give her the satisfaction of knowing how she hurt me.

  “Hey, no problem. I’ll have the clothes along with everything else you’ve given me over there soon. Shouldn’t take long. You never gave me that much.” It felt satisfying to hear her gasp. “Oh, and the stuff you have of mine? Just pitch it. I haven’t given you anything that I really cared about.”

  “Oh, give me a break, Ivy, I can’t believe you’re acting so—”

  This time I was the one who hung up on her.

  I grabbed a garbage bag from the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time. I marched into my room, wadding the clothes she’d bought me, which, really, were a pure joy to get rid of. Then I snatched up the stuffed animals she’d given me as birthday gifts. I ripped the picture of us with our hair parted in half, one side dyed blue and one red. Our hands were stretched high in the air and our mouths open from screaming. It was taken the year Jack Henry and Mama let me bring Ellen on our family trip to the amusement park in southern Ohio. The picture got blurry so I thrust it into the bag before tears dropped on it. I didn’t want Ellen to know I cared. I would not let her know I cried.

  I didn’t realize I’d kept so much of her in my room until I had to clean it out. I threw her notes away instead of giving them back. I wouldn’t think about how I’d kept every one. I gave the room a once-over and saw Daisy Dog on my nightstand. I picked her up. She looked at me so friendly with her painted-on eyes and smile. I pushed her ear and she licked my finger. I sat her back by my bed. It would be the only thing I’d keep.

  I threw the bag over my shoulder and headed downstairs to return it. I walked outside and saw JJ and Caleb squatted beside a bucket under a weird-shaped wagon that was hitched to the truck. Pastor Harold turned a crank and corn came out of the bottom to fill the bucket.

  “Tell Mama and Aunt Maureen I’ll be right back,” I said.

  Pastor Harold never missed a beat. He just kept turning that handle and said, “JJ will have to tell them, Ivy. I’m leaving soon. I have more important things to do.”

  He didn’t look up. I tried not to let the words hurt. I was sure he did have more important things to do. Still, I had to swallow the lump in my throat.

  At that minute I just wanted to strike out at somebody. I wanted to annoy Ellen and I saw the perfect way.

  “On second thought, I’m pretty busy, too. Caleb, can you do something for me? I need to return these things. It’s not far if you cut through the backyard to the alley, then go two blocks south. It’s a yellow house. Just ring the door
bell. Tell whoever answers that this bag is from Ivy.”

  Caleb pushed his glasses back up on his nose and stood, deep in thought. Finally he set the bucket down and held out his hand for the bag. Then he looked at me.

  I almost had second thoughts. I knew that what I was doing was mean. I remembered how Ellen had treated him in the cafeteria. But then, that’s exactly why sending him to Ellen’s was so perfect. She couldn’t stand him. She’d hate having him there. And Caleb always did whatever anyone asked of him without arguing. I think that if he had stood up for himself, just this once, I wouldn’t have insisted that he go. But, no. He just held out his hand to take the bag.

  So I let him.

  15

  I wondered what happened when Caleb rang Ellen’s doorbell but I was too proud to ask, and he didn’t say one blessed word about it. When he returned, he said that he would go make sure the mess from the corn was cleaned up. Boys are dumb, if you ask me. They never feel the need to tell you the stuff you care about.

  Later that evening, I was helping Mama in the kitchen. I put an onion on the chopping block and hacked.

  “Isn’t it nice and warm?” Mama interrupted my thoughts. “I really think I’m going to like this corn stove. I hadn’t given a thought to heating this drafty place until Pastor Harold brought it up.”

  She stopped stirring the gravy long enough to push the hair back from her forehead. “I wish he’d taken me up on the invitation to supper, though. He practically bolted out of here when I got home. Did you notice that?”

  I shrugged. “Not really.”

  “He’s probably a very busy man,” Mama said.

  I shrugged again.

  “What’s the matter, Ivy?” she asked. Before I could answer, Aunt Maureen blew into the kitchen.

  “Guess where we’re going next Saturday night,” she said.

  “Oh, Maureen … you didn’t,” Mama said.

  “Didn’t what?” I asked.

  Aunt Maureen slid her lanky body into a kitchen chair and said, “Sweetie, I’ll give you a dollar if you’ll go check to see if my clothes are dry. Five dollars if you fold them for me.”

  Well, I knew what was up. I knew she just wanted me out of the room so she could talk to Mama alone. Still, I didn’t have any money so I asked, “Is the five dollars for folding in addition to the one dollar for checking?”

 

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