Sixteen—Ivy
A
few days after that terrible afternoon, Eileen Sutton dropped by to check on Bo. She’d been to Costco and had brought a big box of cleaning supplies with her that I knew would bring a Christmas-morning smile to his pretty face. But Bo was out running when she got there, so I invited her to keep me company. I’d been on the patio Googling more jobs on the laptop my dad had loaned me. I had a new list of six rather promising possibilities and a busy afternoon in the making. I was ready for a break. I offered to make her some tea, but she said she’d just polished off a latte from Starbucks.
She was wearing a white flowy skirt and a turquoise tee, with bangles around her thin wrist, and she said she was actually happy to have caught me alone for a minute. I shut my computer and gave her my full attention because that was just so nice to hear.
“I wanted to thank you, Ivy, for what you did the other night,” she started.
“For doing your dishes? That was nothing,” I said, waving away her sweetness.
Eileen Sutton smiled but looked like she could cry. “Not the dishes—although, that was lovely. I meant rescuing my granddaughters. That was…”
“Oh…” I touched my heart. “That was my pleasure. They were little gumdrops. I could have swallowed them whole…Are you crying?”
She slumped slightly. “I’m just so sorry about all that… ”
I scooted an inch closer to her. “Oh, Mrs. Sutton. Don’t be sorry on my account. I feel terrible for you . It must be so hard watching your little girl go through something like that.”
“Oh, Ivy, you have no idea! And there’s just nothing we can do about it. Nothing!”
“I’m so sorry,” I said again. “I wish I had magic…”
“Oh, you are so sweet! Magic would be nice.”
I smiled. “My grandmother does happen to have some superpowers,” I told her. “She’s coming next weekend. Maybe she can conjure up a spell for ol’ Pete. Something along the lines of terminal droolin’ or a nice incontinence curse—a little dribblin’ at inopportune moments might be just the ticket. Or maybe just a classic Vienna sausage-sized penis curse.”
Mrs. Sutton’s eyes widened, and for a split second I thought I’d stepped in it. I did not know this woman well enough to say the word penis in her presence. What on earth was I thinking? But then a laugh coughed out of her. And it was a good laugh, honest, a cackle, even.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I did not mean to be that familiar with you. Or make light of your family’s tragic situation. Please forgive me.”
Eileen Sutton patted my hand as she caught her breath. “I will not! That is exactly what I needed this morning. And just so you know, I’d pay good money for those curses.”
I smiled, immeasurably relieved.
She sighed and dabbed at one eye. “It is hell, though,” she said. “I guess you know Camille bailed him out of jail.”
“I heard.”
She shook her head and gazed absently over my shoulder. “At least he’s not hurting the girls.”
“That’s good…I guess…”
“I can’t believe I think that’s worth merit,” she said. “But of course, it is.”
I nodded, not sure what she needed from me .
“She promised if that ever happened, she’d leave,” Mrs. Sutton said anxiously. “Mia made her swear that if Peter hurt either one of those babies, she would bring them here. Peter has never been here.” Bo’s mama breathed shakily, and I could see she wasn’t really doing as well as she pretended. “I guess that’s the line in the sand, Ivy; apparently the emotional trauma those little girls face every day doesn’t meet the criteria. But if that monster ever hurts them physically…then that’s when my ridiculous daughter will do something…” She looked at me like she’d just realized I was there. “Oh! I shouldn’t have said that about Camille. I shouldn’t be burdening you with this at all…I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t you worry. They say talking is the best thing for processing a crisis.” Thank you very much, Adam Pembroke.
“I like your curses better.” She gave me a sad smile.
A door slammed in the house, and a moment later, Bo appeared on the patio, damp from his run, his unruly hair pulled back with a gray sweatband, his calf muscles bulging. He didn’t look like Bo—he looked better than Bo, and if I’m honest, it was a little shocking.
“Hey,” he said a bit breathlessly. “Hey, Mom what are you doing here?”
“Hello, darling. I just did a Costco run, so I dropped some things off for you. How are you doing?”
“Clorox wipes?” he said with brows lifted hopefully.
“Back in stock.” Eileen smiled with exaggerated triumph.
Fist pump. “Yes! Finally. Hey, Ivy.”
“Hey, Bo,” I said, gathering my paraphernalia, nearly dropping the laptop. “Good run?”
“Yeah, it was great. What are you doing? You don’t…You don’t have to leave.”
I said, “I do. Someone out there is just dying to hire me, they just don’t know it yet.” But what I was thinking was: I so do. Because I literally cannot stop staring at you Bo Sutton.
Eileen Sutton stood. “Well, thank you, you darling girl, for letting me unload—that was more than you signed up for. ”
“It was my pleasure, Mrs. Sutton. Really. You can bend my ear anytime.”
“Only if you call me Eileen.” She gave me a quick hug. “Deal?”
“Okay. Absolutely. Eileen.”
“That sounds so lovely the way you say it.” She winked.
Over her shoulder, sexy Mr. Sweaty smiled. “What job are you applying for?” he asked.
“Oh, gosh. I found openings at the art store, Wallpaper World, the Poodle Groomery...” I laughed and it sounded chirpy and ridiculous to my ears. Settling down, I said, “I am bound to be employed by the end of the week.” For some weird reason, I did not mention that I had also filled out the lengthy application for X-ray tech at CHOMP—Community Hospital of the Monterey Peninsula. Maybe because that seemed a bit too committed, too permanent. Or maybe it was the fact that CHOMP was not hiring X-ray techs at the moment but would keep my application on file. I smiled and proceeded to back away from my overly attractive audience—nearly tripping on my own feet—and by some miracle made it into the pool house. “I’ll catch y’all later. Wish me luck,” I yelled.
What in the good Lord’s name was the matter with me?