Ivyʹs turned to him, surprised. Guy took a step back. “Whoa! Howʹd I know that?ʺ
They gazed at each other, mirroring amazement, then Ivy smiled. ʺAnd you thought you werenʹt a classy guy!ʺ
IVY AND GUY STOOD AT THE TOP OF THE STEPS BY Chatham Light, the same place Ivy and Will had stood eight days earlier. In the afternoon sun, the wide stretch of sand, more than a quarter mile deep, burned hot and white. The ocean swept past, curving to the south as far as the eye could see, its color like the blue sea glass that Ivy loved.
They had picked up sandwiches and soda at a cafe near the church, and Ivy had given Guy the beach towel she had brought along. ʺWould you like me to come back in an hour? It’s a long walk to Nickerson,ʺ she added, ʺand Iʹll be driving home in that direction.ʺ
Guy kept his eyes on the beach, and after a moment asked, ʺWould you come with me?ʺ She was careful not to gush Of course — I was hoping — whatever I can do to help. ʺSure. I like the beach,ʺ she replied, and started down the steps.
Reaching the sand, she stepped aside to let Guy lead the way, not wanting to do anything that might extinguish a spark of memory. She followed him across the beach, removing her shoes as he did when they reached the damp sand, then walking next to him, heading south. Toddlers played at the seaʹs frothy edge, running back and forth with plastic pails. A father played Frisbee with his kids.
A middle‐aged woman with wet, spiky hair smiled to herself as she carried her raft from the waves. Beneath a striped umbrella a younger boy played checkers with an older one and let out a shout of victory. Thinking about the way Philip had loved to play the game with Tristan, Ivy turned for another look and saw that Guy had stopped to watch the pair. ʺYou were frowning,ʺ Ivy said when they moved on. ʺI thought — for a moment I thought I knew that kid, the little one.ʺ
They strolled on in silence and passed a sign that prohibited swimming from mat point south. ʺThe officer who interviewed me said that they found me about fifty yards beyond the no‐swimming sign.ʺ
They walked that distance and Guy stopped to survey the area. ʺNot very smart of me,ʺ he remarked dryly, “to swim at midnight in an area with dangerous currents.ʺ
ʺAre you sure you were swimming?ʺ she asked. ʺThe doctors said there was enough seawater in me to drown an army.ʺ
ʺOkay, but itʹs obvious from your injuries you were in some kind of fight.
Maybe you were knocked unconscious at the edge of the ocean and the tide came in. Do you know how to swim?ʺ she asked.
He was standing back from the water as if he didnʹt like the feel of it washing over his feet.
ʺDoesnʹt everybody?ʺ he replied. ʺNo, not everybody.ʺ He dropped his eyes.
ʺThe water… it bothers me. I donʹt want to get in. It scares me.” he admitted, climbing the bank to the dryer sand.
ʺAfter what happened to you, it should,ʺ Ivy replied, following him, laying the beach towel where he dropped his backpack, about twenty feet beyond the tidal line. ʺIt’s okay to be afraid, Guy. Anyone who had nearly drowned would be.ʺ
He pulled off his sweatshirt and T‐shirt. It took Ivyʹs breath away, the strength and the vulnerability she saw in him. His back and shoulders were broad and muscular, but his skin a pale, grayish green with fading bruises.
ʺNone of this looks familiar,ʺ he said, surveying the distant houses spread beyond the dunes.
He sat on the towel close to Ivy. The desire to put her arms around him, to shield him from the confusion and fear that haunted him, was so strong that she had to look away. Water Angel, help him, she prayed, then asked, ʺDo you believe in angels?ʺ
ʺNo. Do you?ʺ ʺYes,ʺ she said firmly. Peeking sideways, she saw the corners of Guyʹs mouth curling upward. Tristan had once worn the same amused expression.
ʺI believe there are people who act like angels,ʺ Guy added, ʺshowing up unexpectedly at the moment you need them. Like the little boy who gave me this.ʺ He inched in his pocket, pulling out a gold coin stamped with an angel.
“He came to my hospital room and started jawing with me like he had known me all his life. There was something about that kid, the way he looked at me — it was as if he could see through me and understood something I didnʹt.ʺ
Ivy took the coin from him. ʺThat kid — heʹs my brother.ʺ
ʺYour brother.ʺ Guyʹs eyes narrowed, as if he was trying hard to remember something. Ivyʹs cell phone went off and they both turned toward her bag. After a minute, the familiar ring‐tone stopped, men it began all over again.
ʺArenʹt you going to answer it?ʺ Guy asked. Ivy handed the coin back to him.
ʺLater. I, uh, want to get my feet wet,ʺ she said, and headed toward the waves.
She felt as if she couldnʹt fight it anymore than she could fight the sea, this deep connection she felt with Guy. It was a relief to stand in the surf, the ocean rushing against her legs, making her skin cold and tingly. Tristan had taught her to swim, and after Gregory had died, Ivy had taken lessons, becoming an even stronger swimmer.
Still, her feet fought the undertow and her arms prickled with the oceanʹs spray.
She was both afraid of and seduced by the sea. She stood there for a long time, then moved closer to the shore, crouching to look at a sparkling crescent of shells and pebbles. When she glanced up, Guy was standing ten feet away, watching her so closely she became self‐conscious. She stood up, and at the same time, he moved toward her, smiling.
ʺYour hair!ʺ he said
Feeling the wind tossing it this way and that, she reached back and caught her hair, holding it still. ʺWhat about it?ʺ
ʺYou should see it. Itʹs… wild.ʺ She imagined it looked like kinky gold seaweed blowing in the wind. ʺHey, do you see me laughing at yours?ʺ Not that there is any reason to, she thought. His streaky blond hair had a curl to it— like hair an Italian sculptor might give a hero.
Guy laughed, then glanced over his shoulder. Her cell was ringing again. They caught a snatch of it before the breeze carried off the sound. ʺSame ringtone,ʺ he observed. ʺFor some reason, it sounds to me like Will.ʺ
ʺIt is.”
ʺI made him nervous yesterday.ʺ When Ivy didnʹt comment, Guy went on. ʺI thought about telling him that he had nothing to worry about. . Does he have anything to worry about?ʺ
ʺLike what?ʺ
He smiled. ʺWell, when I was making the great escape from the hospital, I asked if I should say that I was your boyfriend. You quickly corrected me — brother, you said.ʺ
Ivy gazed downward and turned over a shell with her toe, as if fascinated by how it might look on the opposite side.
ʺA girl who quickly informs you that you cannot be her boyfriend is one of two things: very committed to her boyfriend, or feeling guilty because sheʹs not.ʺ
Ivy crouched to pick up the shell. ʺWhich was it?ʺ he asked. She didnʹt reply.
Rising to her feet, she attempted to distract him from the question by holding out the shell to him. But instead of looking at it, he caught a piece of her hair.
The light tug of his hand, the way he opened his palm and looked down at the lock of her hair, made her heart pound. His gaze was hidden beneath golden lashes. Then he raised his eyes and caught her mass of hair in both hands, lifting it away from her face. His hands slid to the back of her neck with the gentleness of someone cupping a flower. Gazing at her mouth, he bent his head, moving his face slowly closer to hers. A rush of cold water pushed them apart. ʺSorry, I — it startled me. The water.” he said, looking embarrassed.
ʺMe too.ʹ After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she added, ʺIʹm starved.
Why donʹt we have our lunch now?ʺ He nodded and they returned to the beach towel, where they ate in silence. As Ivy took the last bite of her sandwich, her cell phone went off again. Guy hummed along with the familiar ring, and grinned at Ivy. She dug into her bag.
ʺI knew youʹd give in sooner or later.ʺ
ʺDid you?ʺ she replied. Leaving the phone in the bag, she pulled ou
t a paperback and sunglasses, and began to read. Guy laughed, then spread his sweatshirt behind her and his T‐shirt behind him. In five minutes he was asleep — Ivy knew it by his slow and even breaths.
She reached in her bag for her phone. Three calls and three texts from Will. One call, no message, from Beth. Ivy looked at Willʹs first text: WHERE R U?
Canʹt I go anywhere without telling you? she thought, then felt guilty. She clicked on the second message. It was an apology for whatever Will had said in his voicemails. Ivy moved on to the third, deciding not to listen to the voicemailsthings between them were strained enough.
R U OK? Will wrote. B SAYS SOMETHING IS WRONG. 1 OF THOSE FEELINGS
SHE GETS. MAKING ME CRAZY. Ivy sighed. She couldnʹt blame Will for worry-ing when Beth went on like that, but this time Beth was wrong. @ BEACH.
HOME 4 DINNER, Ivy typed to Will and Beth, then turned off her phone and dropped it in her bag.
Gazing down at Guy, Ivy reached, and with light fingers, touched his hair. She lay down close to him, wanting, for the first time in a year, to live in no other time but the present.
Fourteen
IT WAS NEARLY SIX OʹCLOCK WHEN IVY DROPPED GUY off at Nickerson.
Arriving at the Seabrightʹs lot, she noticed a bright yellow sports car parked next to Kelseyʹs Jeep and Dhanyaʹs Audi.
Hearing voices in the direction of the cottage. Ivy checked her messages before following the path from the lot to the cottage. Will had written that Dhanyaʹs and Kelseyʹs new friends were coming over for a cookout: Y DONʹT U STOP BY
SOMETIME? he had added. His concern had changed to sarcasm, and in a way, that was easier for her to handle.
Emerging from the path, she saw that the barbecue had begun. An old banquet table had been dragged out from Aunt Cindyʹs shed and covered with a checkered cloth. Extra chairs had been borrowed from the innʹs porch. Will was poking at coals in the grill and glanced up at her as she approached. ʺNice of you to show,ʺ he remarked, and went back to work.
Beth set large bowls of pretzels and chips on the long table and turned back to the cottage as if she didnʹt see Ivy. ʺHey,ʺ Ivy greeted her.
Beth looked over her shoulder, then glanced toward Will, which annoyed Ivy. It was as if all that mattered was how Will felt.
ʺHey, girl. Where ya been?ʺ Kelsey sang out. She and a dark‐haired guy were setting up a badminton net. ʺAround,ʺ Ivy replied. ʺLooks like I got here just in time.ʺ
ʺYou did, and now youʹve got clean‐up duty?ʺ Ivy laughed. For once she was glad to be around a party girl with a big voice. It sure beat Bethʹs and Willʹs icy welcome.
ʺCans are in the cooler. Nothing good,ʺ Kelsey said with a flick of her head toward the inn. Ivy assumed she meant nothing alcoholic, not around Aunt Cindy.
ʺBack in a minute,ʺ Ivy replied, and went inside. Dhanya was in the kitchen, whipping together a dip, her arm jingling with gold, silver, and copper bracelets.
A guy relaxed in a kitchen chair, watching her. It had to be Max, Ivy thought, noticing the shirt. It was Hawaiian silk, and its bright aqua and lime green floral stood in contrast to his monochrome coloring: tan skin, faded‐brown hair, and when he turned to look at Ivy, light brown — almost amber — eyes.
He smiled, his row of perfect white teeth gleaming against his beige coloring.
ʺMax Moyer,ʺ he said, holding out his hand. ʺIvy Lyons,ʺ she replied, walking over to him, amused that he had offered to shake hands but remained in his chair, his foot casually propped on his knee.
Glancing down, Ivy recognized his brand of boat shoe — Gregory had worn the same ones. ʺIʹve heard lots about you,ʺ Max said. ʺHow much do you think is true?ʺ Ivy asked. Her quick reply seemed to catch him off guard. She smiled, and after a moment Max matched her smile.
ʺAll of it. Dhanya wouldnʹt lie to me.ʺ Dhanya glanced over her shoulder, but said nothing. ʺStill,ʺ Ivy said, ʺyou should only believe the good stuff.ʺ She turned to Dhanya. ʺHey. What’re you making?ʺ
ʺCream cheese and dill. Tell me what you think,” Dhanya said, dipping a clean spoon in her mix and holding it out to Ivy. ʺMmm. I think Iʹm sitting wherever you put this bowl.”
ʺCan I taste?ʺ Max dipped a cracker. ʺAwesome!ʺ he exclaimed, and then dipped his half‐eaten cracker into the communal bowl. Dhanya glanced at Ivy, shook her head, and fastidiously scraped out the section where he had just scooped.
Trying not to laugh — at Dhanya or Max — Ivy headed upstairs to change into a clean top and shorts. When she joined the others outside, Max was standing next to Will, watching him slide burgers onto the grill.
ʺYouʹre not planning to join a frat?ʺ he said to Will, his light eyes round with surprise. ʺWhat are you going to do all day? You’ll die of boredom.ʺ
ʺIʹll think of something. Studying for instance.ʺ
ʺBut how are you going to meet people?ʺ Max persisted. ʺFacebookʹs good, but fraternities, theyʹre the melting pot of America.ʺ Will laughed. ʺNever thought of them that way.ʺ Beth sat a few feet away from them, listening. It wasnʹt unusual for Beth to be silently observant at social events — taking mental notes, happily gathering dialogue and details for her stories.
But the ʺhappilyʺ part was missing, Ivy thought studying her friend’s face. It looked more like Beth was cramming for a test, ʺDoesnʹt anyone want to play with us?ʺ Kelsey called from the badminton game.
ʺYouʹre going at it way too seriously for me,ʺ Ivy replied, carrying a soda over to the swing. Dusty followed her, and she lifted her hands so the cat could jump in her lap.
ʺAnd for me,ʺ Max said. ʺWith Bryan, I play only electronic games.ʺ Kelsey’s competitor, who was medium height but powerfully built, pointed to his friend, lifted his elbows, and squawked like a chicken. Max shrugged it off.
ʺSo let’s quit Iʹm thirsty anyway,ʺ Bryan said to Kelsey, then strode toward the ice chest and foraged through the frozen chips. ʺNo Red Bull?ʺ ʺJust Mountain Dew and Coke.” Dhanya answered.
Max toasted Dhanya with his can, then said to Bryan, ʺThis is a classy affair.ʺ
ʺThen we should at least have wine Bryan mumbled, grabbing a Coke. He sat on the swing next to Ivy, which made the cat jump off.
ʺI like you, too, kitty,ʺ Bryan said to Dusty, then turned to Ivy. ʺAnd you are?ʺ
Kelsey blew threw her lips. “You know who she is.ʺ
ʺIvy,ʺ Max told his friend. ʺWillʹs one and only,ʺ Kelsey added. ʺWell, thatʹs very limiting,ʺ Bryan responded.
Ivy fought the urge to roll her eyes “Nice to meet you.ʺ Both his build and his movement indicated that Bryan was a good athlete. He wore a T‐shirt with BOSTON UNIVERSITY printed across his massive chest and shorts that bore the collegeʹs insignia. His thick dark hair and green eyes were striking. His Irish complexion gave him a ruddier tan than Maxʹs.
ʺWe were telling Bryan and Max about your accident,ʺ Kelsey said to Ivy, dragging a lawn chair over to the swing, ʺhow your car was totaled and all.ʺ
ʺI would never have known it, looking at you and Beth now. How are you feeling?ʺ Bryan asked. ʺFine. The same as before.ʺ
Max leaned forward. ʺWhat kind of car ran you off the road?ʺ
ʺProbably a Ferrari Four Fifty‐eight,” Bryan quipped. ʺThatʹs what Maxie owns.
People with Ferraris always drive like they own the road.ʺ
ʺAll I could see were the headlights,” Ivy explained, ʺso I have nil idea what it was.ʺ
ʺWere the headlights low to the road?ʺ Max asked, spooning the bowl of dip with his half‐eaten pretzel. Ivy glanced toward Beth, then said, ʺNeither of us was thinking like witnesses to an accident. We didnʹt notice those kinds of details;ʺ
Bryan nodded and laid his hand on her arm. ʺMust have been a pretty scary scene.ʺ Kelsey, facing Ivy and Bryan, put her feet on the swing between them. ʺI wonder whatever happened to that guy who was in the hospital when you were.
Ivy — you know, our friendly local amnesiac.ʺ Out of the corner of her eye. Iv
y saw Will stiffen.
ʺOur friendly local amnesiac?ʺ Max repeated. ʺYeah, some guy they fished out of the ocean in Chatham, the same night as Ivyʹs and Bethʹs accidentʺ
ʺReally?!ʺ Bryan said with surprise. Then he turned to Max: ʺDo you think he went to your party?”
ʺNo,ʺ Kelsey said. ʺI would have remembered him. He was gorgeous — even beat‐up. He has these incredible, seductive eyes.ʺ It lasted no more than a half second, the flash in Bryanʹs eyes, but Ivy had seen it.
Kelsey had succeeded in pushing the little green button in him— and in Will.
But Bryan was better at covering up his jealous moment; Will continued to scowl.
ʺI donʹt know about thatʺ Dhanya replied. ʺI thought the guy was kind of scary.ʺ
ʺAmnesia,ʺ Bryan said thoughtfully. ʺWhy didnʹt I think of that? I donʹt know.
Officer, none of this looks familiar. . I have no idea, Mom… Really, babe? I canʹt remember anything. What a great excuse! Will snickered.
Ivy changed the subject. ʺDo you play a sport for BU?ʺ
ʺHockey.ʺ
ʺYeah?ʺ Will replied, interested. ʺTheyʹve got a great team.ʺ
ʺHow long have you been playing?ʺ Ivy asked. JʹI canʹt even remember the first time I stood on a pair of skates and held a stick. I think I was six months old Kelsey laughed. ʺ
ʺA child prodigy. He could walk at six months!ʺ Bryan grinned at her. ʺNo, but I could skate.ʺ ʺYour dad was into hockey?ʺ Ivy guessed. ʺMy mom. She was from a hockey family — all brothers. I work for my uncle, who owns the rink in Harwich. Every year I come to the Cape to help him with summer hockey camps.
And I work out, keeping in shape for the season.ʺ
ʺSix a.m., heʹs at the freakinʹ rink at six a.m. every morning,ʺ Max told them, ʺeven if he has to drive there from a party.ʺ
ʺMax exaggerates,ʺ Bryan said, turning back to Ivy, flashing a bad‐boy smile, ʺI always leave parties by four thirty, so I can get in an hour of sleep before I hit the ice.ʺ
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