“And as for you, Mr. Walken, the restraining order stands. You are to stay at least five hundred feet away from Mrs. Walken at all times. Do not contact her.”
“Your Honor, she stole my daughter and left the state —” How Vick could possibly sound so arrogant when he was being yelled at by a judge was beyond Ivy.
“Do not interrupt me, Mr. Walken. Given the circumstances, I dismiss the kidnapping charges you are suggesting be filed against her.” The judge sounded at once annoyed and amused; annoyed, Ivy guessed, because he’d been interrupted, and amused because who in their right mind told a judge what charges should be filed? “If there is nothing else, we can adjourn this appointment with the note that Mrs. Walken will file for divorce in the state of Utah.”
“I will, Your Honor. Thank you.” Ivy hung up. It could have been worse. At least the judge was on her side and willing to help. Before what was left of her energy deserted her, she called the courthouse in her city to find out what she had to do to file for divorce in Utah.
****
“Okay, woman, just what is going on there? I’m gone for less than a month, and you guys explode into some new world war.” Gigi’s usual exuberance was dampened a bit, even over the phone.
“Ugh. Don’t ask. Everything fell apart. You aren’t allowed to leave again.” Ivy plopped down on the floor next to Desee, who promptly stacked the blocks she was playing with between them.
“Help, Mama,” she ordered.
“Wanna fill me in?” Gigi asked, but it, too, was an order.
“Archer and I… went out on a date. Now we hate each other. And Jay and Gunner hate me. I think Austin’s still okay though. Not sure.” Ivy stacked the blocks absently. Desee eyed their tower with distaste and knocked it down to start over.
“I see.” Gigi was quiet, and Ivy, desperate to fill the silence, said, “Now I understand why you and Jay were always just friends.”
“You… what?” Even over the phone, Gigi managed to sound utterly lost.
“You and Jay. I thought there was something between you. I thought…” Ivy hesitated, feeling ridiculous. “I thought you just didn’t do anything about it because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship.” Like mine and Archer’s.
“Umm, no.” Gigi fell silent again, but this time Ivy focused on building a tower that wouldn’t disappoint her toddler and refused to stick her foot in her mouth. Again.
Gigi sighed. “I like him. But it just doesn’t work that way. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends.”
Ivy found herself nodding before realizing that Gigi couldn’t see her. “Yes. Right. And it isn’t worth it. Nothing is worth losing a friend. Or three.” Her voice caught. “Anyway, I better go. But call me when you get back in town. We can go play or something.”
Gigi laughed. “That’s why I was calling in the first place. I’m back. Want to watch movies tomorrow?”
“Oh. Yay! Yes, definitely. Do you want to come here?”
“Sure. Text me when you’re ready and I’ll head over,” Gigi said, her voice sounding more like its bubbly self now.
“Will do. See ya.” Ivy hung up the phone. At least she hadn’t lost all her friends. She still had Gigi, thank goodness.
****
“I just have to go file the paperwork and sign up to take a child custody divorce thingy class, and then we wait on Vick.” Ivy tucked her phone against her shoulder as she shoved the paperwork into her purse.
“Yeah, but waiting on Vick could drag this on forever,” Bev said.
“He only has so long to contest it. Then it will proceed without him.” Ivy had been sure to ask about that when she’d called the Weber County Courthouse. “I’ll meet you at the store and pick Desee up on my way home, so you and dad can go out tonight.” It was her parents’ anniversary. They were going to dinner, but Ivy wasn’t even sure her dad even knew what they were going to dinner for. She should remind him to at least buy a card.
“Are you sure you’re up to it? Maybe you need to just rest tonight.”
Ivy could hear the worry in Bev’s voice and smiled. “No, I’m okay. Maybe Desee and I will have a spa night.” That little girl loved her toenails painted. Having her hair done, not so much, so they’d skip the hair-doing. And Ivy could use a little pampering herself.
“Okay. So I’ll meet you at four in the parking lot?”
“Yep. See you then.” Ivy hesitated because her family wasn’t big on expressing their affection, verbally or physically, but she felt she should tell her mom anyway. “Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Bev said, surprise evident in her voice even over the phone.
Ivy hung up and grabbed her purse and her car keys. Her hair was a mess, and she tried to smooth it before she walked out the door, but she didn’t see the point in putting any effort at all into her appearance. She was going to file for divorce. Did anyone expect her to look like she cared? Shoving her glasses more firmly on her face, she hurried out the door to her car. She had forty-five minutes to drop the papers off and meet her mom.
So of course, she hit the first red light she came to. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, trying not to hear the country song on the radio. It always made her cry. Why was it that people would write such sad songs? Didn’t they realize life was hard enough?
She got the green arrow and hit the gas, reaching as she did to change the station. She looked up just in time to see a small silver car fly through the red light. Ivy screamed and jerked the wheel hard to the right, but that was the worst thing she could have done. Instead of getting hit in the side, the silver car smashed into her head on.
She felt her thumb catch as the airbag exploded and her entire body jerked forward and the car flung around like a toy. And then there was silence. Her glasses had flown off to who-knew-where, and she couldn’t see beyond her airbag, but she looked at her thumb in horror.
Something was so wrong with her thumb. She was still trying to figure out why it was so misshapen when the driver-side door was wrenched open, falling to the asphalt, hanging by wires or cables or something. Ivy blinked, wondering why she couldn’t remember what they were called that held her car door on.
“Are you okay?”
She raised her eyes from the door to the face of a man with a handlebar mustache. He looked like he’d just stepped out of an old western movie. “My mom would love you,” she said.
The man looked over his shoulder and said something to someone behind him. A woman appeared behind him. “Is there someone we can call for you?”
Ivy thought hard. She was supposed to… do something… “My mom! She’s waiting for me to pick up my daughter.”
“What’s her phone number, sweetie?” Ivy frowned, and then her face lit up and she rattled off the number, proud of herself. “But — but, will you please not tell her I’ve been in an accident? She’s a stroke risk.”
The woman smiled gently and put the phone to her ear. Ivy felt the world tilting a little and frowned. “I… I can’t see,” she whispered.
“Okay, honey, just stay with us. Look at me, look right at me.”
Ivy tried. “I don’t want to die,” she whimpered. “My daughter. He’ll get my daughter.”
“You aren’t going to die. Just stay with me, sweetie. Look at me.”
Everything went black.
****
“We’re gonna have to cut her shirt off. I can’t get to her neck.”
“Are you sure you can’t just pull it back? That’s a cute shirt.”
Ivy forced her eyes open. She stung, everywhere, like she’d tried to go swimming on pavement. It took longer for her to realize that everything not only stung, it ached. Especially her foot. And her ribs. And her thumb and her neck and her hip. She moaned.
“Oh, there we go. We’ve got her. Hi, sweetie, how are ya?” An EMT leaned over her, peering into her face.
“Fine?” she asked slowly. There were several chuckles from outside her field of vision. She starte
d to turn her head, but another face, this one a girl who couldn’t have been even as old as Ivy, suddenly appeared on her left, shaking her head.
“Lie still. Try not to move your head. We need to get some x-rays on your neck at the hospital.” Well, duh. I can’t move my neck anyway. You put a brace on it, Ivy thought. She could feel the stiff brace holding her head still. Moving didn’t seem to be an option.
Yet another face, this one lower but also the left. “Can you tell us your name?”
“Ivy Bleu. Walken. My license says Walken. I’m getting divorced.”
“How about the date?”
“December fifteenth.”
“Ivy, can you tell us where it hurts?” the first face asked.
She frowned. “Everywhere?” She wasn’t sure what he wanted, since she couldn’t pinpoint one place that hurt any worse or any less than anywhere else.
“My foot. My foot and my hip and my thumb.”
“We might have to cut your shirt. Is that okay?” the woman asked. “I tried to save it, but we can’t check you for injuries, and we can’t pull it over your head.”
Ivy started to nod, thought better of it, and said, “Yeah, go ahead.”
“You’ve got seatbelt burns here,” the man on her right said as she felt the cold steel of the scissors against her skin. She resisted the urge to swear — this was her favorite shirt. And then she felt herself blush, because she was shirtless in an ambulance full of people, most of whom she couldn’t even see.
“Yeah, you’ve got several nasty seatbelt burns. I think your shirt was ruined anyway with the blood.”
She started to shiver violently, her teeth chattering together. “She’s going into shock,” the woman said. “Get the blanket.”
“No-no-no, I — I’m j-just cold.” Her teeth were chattering so hard now that it was making her entire head ache.
“This blanket is warm. It will help.”
“You know, most girls who don’t like their car just trade it in. Just sayin’,” the man on her right said with a grin. She blinked at him, unsure what else to do.
“Yeah, you give a whole new meaning to the phrase “traffic-stopping.”
They were teasing her. Were they supposed to be teasing her? Was she supposed to want to giggle? This was not how it was in the movies at all.
“How ya feeling? Any warmer?”
“Y-y-es,” she lied.
“Good girl.” And they went back to teasing her. But despite their attempts, she lost consciousness again before they reached the hospital and woke up in a room, surrounded by doctors and nurses.
“Ivy, is there someone we can call for you?”
“My dad. Please call my dad. But tell him not to tell my mom,” Ivy whispered.
“Is the number in your phone contacts?” a nurse with white hair in a green mask asked, and out of the corner of her eye, Ivy could just see her purse, sitting on the counter. The nurse dug through it, and Ivy ran through the contents in her mind, hoping there wasn’t anything embarrassing.
“Got it,” the woman said, and by the way her eyes crinkled, Ivy could tell she was smiling. “Mr. Bleu, this is Kay calling from McKay Dee Hospital…”
Her voice trailed off as Ivy felt the blackness creeping in the sides of her vision again. The doctor must have seen the panic in her face as he peered into both eyes with a flashlight. “Get an oxygen mask on her and order x-rays of her chest and head ASAP.”
“My foot.” Ivy sounded like a half-dead frog. “My foot hurts a lot.”
“Okay, Ivy. First we’ll do these others so we can rule out some dangerous things, and then we’ll check the rest of you.”
“Okay,” Ivy said meekly, and then she was out again, but this time for just a second. When they hefted her from one bed to another and wheeled her down the hall, she woke up again.
“Try not to move, honey. Are you warm enough?”
“Yes,” Ivy answered. She felt small and scared and not warm at all; in fact, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again. Desee. Please let me go home to Desee.
“You have a pretty serious concussion, but no bleeding, and no lung damage. Serious whiplash, but that’s to be expected when you’re hit head-on by someone going seventy miles per hour. You’ll need stitches on your right foot, and we’re sending you to x-ray for your left foot and leg and your left thumb.”
“My right foot? What’s wrong with my right foot?” Ivy asked. She didn’t feel like she was on the verge of passing out anymore, which was a step in the right direction, but she hadn’t noticed pain in her right foot at all, which seemed rather odd.
“You almost lost your pinkie toe. But we’ll get it all fixed up.” Ah. So that’s why everyone always says don’t drive in flip-flops.
This time they put her in a wheelchair, so she could see where she was going at least. Her right foot was bandaged so she couldn’t see the icky toe, but now that he had brought it to her attention, she could definitely feel it. Her left foot was swollen and ugly, and Ivy had the random thought that she was glad it wasn’t flip-flop season, even though she had indeed been wearing flip-flops.
Technicalities.
The lady doing the foot x-rays was not as nice as everyone else had been so far, and she made Ivy stand on her incredibly sore feet to do the x-rays. Ivy was fighting tears, biting her lip so hard she could taste blood.
“We’re all done here. I’ll find the tech to take you back to your room,” the woman said, leaving Ivy to make her own way to her wheelchair. The tech swung the door to the hallway open, and Ivy squinted against the bright light. Something moved, blocking it, and when Ivy opened her eyes again, her mom stood there, silhouetted like an angel.
“Ivy!” she cried.
“Mom?” Ivy had been pretty tough so far. She hadn’t cried once. But now she sobbed like a baby as her mom helped her into her wheelchair. “I told them not to tell you,” Ivy said, but she still had a neck brace on and couldn’t turn her head to see Bev’s face.
“Well, they didn’t listen. Anyway, did you think I didn’t know something was happening when a stranger called to tell me you couldn’t pick Desee up?”
“Oh.” Duh. Well, in her defense, she had just been in an accident and hadn’t been thinking clearly.
Jack waited in her room, his eyes red-rimmed as he leaned on one hip against the bed. “Hi Dad.” Ivy waved a little.
“You. You have always been a troublemaker.” He shook his head, but there were grateful tears in his eyes.
“Sorry about that.” Ivy tried her best to sound sarcastic, trying to tease him, trying to make him feel better. Between Ivy, the nurse, and her parents, they managed to get her back into bed without an extreme amount of pain. “Can I go home now?”
“We have to wait and see what the doctor says. He’ll be in with your x-rays soon. Just try to rest,” the nurse said, patting her gently as she pulled warm blankets over Ivy’s still shaking body. Her dad, bless him, tried to keep her mind occupied by telling her about all the times he’d ever been in the hospital — and there were a lot.
When the doctor came in, Ivy felt fine and just wanted to go home. Never mind the IV connected to her right arm that had something to help her feel better.
“There are a few small broken bones in your left foot, here and here,” the doctor said, showing her the x-rays he put up against the machine. “We’ll set them and put you in a boot. Your left thumb is also broken, as is your right pinkie toe.”
“Can I go home?” Ivy asked stupidly. She knew the answer. She’d been in the hospital enough to know what kind of injuries kept you there overnight. But one could always hope.
“I’m afraid not. We’ll keep you overnight for observation. The injuries to your feet and legs aren’t too severe, but your concussion might be. If everything looks good in the morning, you can go home then.”
Overnight. In a hospital. By herself. Memories nearly overwhelmed her, and the monitor showing her blood pressure and heart rate started beeping. The doct
or looked alarmed. “I think your system is still fighting shock. Let’s up your dosage of this and see if we can make you a little more comfortable.”
“Do you have a couch or something we can sleep on?” Bev asked as Ivy felt the medicine burn into her arm and then started to relax, but the room looked a little wavy and strange, too.
“Of course.”
“No, Mom. What about Deshee?” Ivy interrupted, amused that her words were slurring.
“She’s with Kim.” Bev looked at her like she had two heads, which was fair, because Bev herself was starting to look like she had two heads. Ivy blinked. That can’t be right.
“Yeah, but she’ll be scared if she’s not in her bed. You need to go home.”
“Then I’ll stay,” Jack said.
“You have to have your oxygen at night, Dad. How come I’m the injured, drugged one, and I’m the only one being reasonable here?” Although she hated to say it, Ivy forced herself anyway. “I’ll be fine. Just take good care of my baby.” When it looked like they were both going to object, she resorted to begging. “Please? Please take care of my baby.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Hey, we’re hanging at Jay’s tonight if you want to take a break,” Austin said. Archer held the phone away from his head. To hear himself speak over the background noise at Jay’s, Austin had to yell.
“I don’t think so,” Archer said. He’d just gotten home from work, after having to take a three-mile detour because of an accident on the main highway. He was tired and dirty and ornery.
“She’s not here,” Austin said, more quietly this time as the background noise faded.
Archer sighed, kicking off his boots and watching in satisfaction as they slammed into the wall. It made him happy to hurl things lately. “I’m not in the mood for Jay and Gunner’s stupid humor.”
“They’re both annoyed about something, so their stupid humor is MIA tonight. We’re just watching a movie. Ya gotta save me, Archer.” Archer knew full well that Austin didn’t need saving. He was just trying to get Archer out of the house and away from work, something he’d been trying — and failing at — for weeks now.
Waiting Fate Page 13
