Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
The entire morning had gone as planned. Nora had made it to all her classroom lessons, she’d picked up Casey Ferguson to go over her electives for next year, and she’d met with Bobby Jacobs and his mother to finalize his schedule. Emma Simpson, the counselor she’d emailed for Ivy, had even replied to let her know she had an opening in her calendar, and she’d be able to come by today after school to meet Ivy.
Just as Nora considered whether she might sail through the last two weeks of school, Principal Coleman knocked on her doorframe, interrupting her thoughts.
“What have you done?” he asked, coming into her room.
“What do you mean?” Had he heard what she’d said to Janine Swarovski? She geared up to explain herself, but he began speaking, so she snapped her mouth shut.
“Ivy hasn’t made a peep in class. She’s coming in, doing her work, and not bothering a soul. What magic did you perform?”
“I have no idea.” Nora capped her pen and stood up from her desk. “Maybe the before- and after-school meetings with me are helping?”
“She seems to like you.”
“I have the time to listen to her. And I’m including her in finding a family therapist that can take over this summer.”
“What about Ms. Swarovski?” he asked.
“Ivy didn’t connect with her,” she explained. “But we’ve got everything under control. I even met with Ivy’s father.”
“I heard. The office staff haven’t stopped talking about it since he arrived.” He chuckled and straightened his belt line around his protruding belly. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it going. It’s working.”
The end-of-school bell rang, and he turned around and walked out of her room, raising his hand to say goodbye as he left.
Nora felt positively calm. And when Ivy came in for her meeting after school, Nora was already at the table waiting.
“Hey,” Ivy said, dropping her bag of books on the desk like she always did.
“Well, hello, stranger.” Nora offered a hospitable smile. “I haven’t seen you all day.”
“I’m laying low so I can get out of here in a few weeks without having to do any summer school or anything.” She pulled a paper out of her bag. “I got an A on my geography test.” She turned the paper around.
“Wow, that’s fantastic, Ivy.” Nora gave her a high five.
Ivy set the test on the desk next to her bag. “I used to get good grades in school before my mom died.”
“I can imagine how insignificant school must feel in comparison to losing your mom.” Nora offered her a chair at the table.
Ivy sat down. “Yeah. You nailed it. It all seems pointless.”
“When I was twenty, my parents were both killed in a car crash. I went from having a family to having no one but my grandmother, so I understand.”
Ivy cocked her head, her eyes focused, showing her surprise.
“Losing the people you love is a huge thing to deal with,” Nora said.
Ivy’s eyes instantly brimmed with tears, as if they’d been waiting for the green light. She blinked them away.
“You don’t have to keep it all in, Ivy. There’s no weakness in being sad.”
A tear escaped down Ivy’s cheek, and she brushed it away. “I don’t know any other life than the one with my mom. We didn’t have a lot, but we were happy, you know?”
“Was your dad not involved at all?”
“We lived with my dad until I was about four. But when they divorced, Mom didn’t want him to be involved.”
“How come?”
Ivy fiddled with the corner of her test paper. “When they split up, the tabloids called Mom trailer park trash, and said she was out to get Dad’s millions. I looked it up. It was just some rag mag in LA, but she hated being in the public eye—she was a private person and she didn’t want anyone making her look bad. So she took me to Alabama and wouldn’t let Dad give us anything.”
“He didn’t try to fight that? Did he try to see you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
Ivy’s explanation didn’t sit well with Nora.
“Knock, knock.” A female voice broke through their conversation. A small woman with a light brown bob and a friendly smile stood at her door.
Nora got up and Ivy followed suit.
“I’m Emma Simpson.” The woman came in and shook Nora’s hand before turning to Ivy. “And you must be Ivy Ryman.”
The woman held out her hand to Ivy, but the girl didn’t shake it. Instead, she focused on putting the geography test into a folder and shoving it into her school bag.
“Who’s that?” she asked, not taking her eyes off her bag.
“I’m a family therapist,” Emma said, her gaze fluttering over to Nora for guidance.
“I called her,” Nora added. “She’s one of the therapists I personally recommended. I thought you two could meet today.”
Ivy flashed a betrayed look at Nora.
“Feel free to call me Emma.” The woman walked over to them.
Ivy nodded, and it appeared as if she was working overtime to suppress that ever-present eye roll. She struggled to get the folder back into her bag, jamming it in over and over to no avail.
Nora leaned into her space to help her and whispered, “Just give her a chance.” She held the bag for Ivy to get the folder in.
The woman continued with pleasantries, asking Ivy a few surface questions about herself, such as which school subject was her favorite and what did she like to do for fun. The whole time Ivy’s arms were crossed, and that wall she’d had when she’d first arrived at Oakland had slid right back up.
When Ms. Simpson left, Nora handed Ivy her bag and they prepared to leave for the day. “What did you think of Emma?” Nora asked.
“I think she’s like the rest of them.”
“The rest of whom? Counselors? Teachers?”
“Everyone who thinks they can fix me.” She pulled her pink hair free from her bag’s shoulder strap. “I don’t like how they treat me.”
“How do you feel they treat you?”
Nora clicked off the office lights, and they walked down the hallway to the parking lot.
“Like I’m a walking list of answers, some code they have to crack to reprogram me into this perfect little student who does what she’s supposed to.”
“They’re just trying to figure out how best to help you.”
“But I don’t need help. I’ve been fine the last few days.”
Nora held the door open for Ivy, and they walked into the sunshine. “Your tears tell me that you might not be as fine as you think. They just want to help you process your grief.”
Ivy squinted at Nora and shook her head. “You said yourself that it’s okay to be sad.”
“It is. And knowing that is one of the first ways you can begin processing what you’ve been through.”
“I don’t need a random person to help me know that I’m sad about my mom dying, that I had to give up my friends and my old room back at my house and live in a place the size of a small airport that’s always empty.”
“Your dad did tell me that once he finishes up this last project, he’ll have more time, and he plans to spend it with you.”
Ivy shrugged.
“It sounded like you two had fun at that restaurant with the alley access. What was it called?”
“Cappy’s.”
“Yeah, Cappy’s. Maybe the two of you could do more things like that.”
Ivy strode beside her without skipping a beat. “That’s cool. But this will never be home. And that Emma lady isn’t going to make it feel any more like home by asking me my favorite color.”
A black Maserati pulled up, and Blaze put the window down.
Nora offered a wave.
“All go well today?” he asked as Ivy went around and climbed into the passenger side of the car. When Ivy didn’t answer, he questioned Nora.
“Ivy got to meet the family counselor, but she isn’t quite sold on her yet.”
“I’d rather just meet with you,” Ivy said, leaning across her dad to speak through the open window.
“We can absolutely meet until the end of the school year, but you’ll need a different kind of counselor for grief and family counseling over the summer.”
“No, I won’t,” Ivy said. “I’ll be fixed by then. You’ll have asked me all my favorite numbers and stuff, and I’ll magically be better.” She fell back against the seat.
Blaze seemed confused.
Nora wanted to explain Ivy’s sarcasm, but it probably wasn’t worth going into right now. They all needed to head home.
“Well, thanks for today,” Blaze said.
Nora offered a weak smile.
Blaze put up the window and waved as they drove off.
When Nora got home that night, she tried not to ruminate on her issues with Ivy. Finding just the right counselor personality for the girl was going to be a challenge.
“It’s late. You’re still up?” Gram asked.
“I’m getting ready to go to bed,” Nora said.
“Look what I got.” Gram held out a brightly colored cover-up. “It’s the perfect shade to go over my swimsuit.”
“It’s pretty.” Nora reached over and fiddled with the soft fabric. “I should get one too.”
“Yes.” Gram sat down on the sofa and draped the garment across her lap. “In no time at all, we’ll be sitting on that glorious front porch, with our morning coffees, listening to the sound of waves, and chatting away.”
“It sounds like paradise. I’m going to take a blanket out onto that porch swing in the mornings, curl up with a good novel, and read the hours away until you want to go into town and do a little shopping. And we’ll buy seashell trinkets and postcards with beautiful beach scenes…”
“I’m ready to go right now,” Gram said. Then she sobered.
“What is it?”
“Oh, I wish your grandfather would’ve been able to see it. He always wanted to go to the Gulf Coast.”
Nora could only imagine what her grandfather would’ve wanted to do in paradise. “He’d have made coffee every morning for all of us, then taken his newspaper out on the porch, spread it all over the tables, organizing the sections he wanted to read first, and then just as we got comfortable, he’d finish reading and want to go for a bike ride or something.”
Gram laughed. “Yes. He was the fastest reader on the planet. I used to swear he would absorb an entire page of the paper in one go. It was as if he didn’t need to read it line by line.”
Nora breathed in a long breath as the memory of her grandfather settled upon her. “I used to think he was superhuman.”
Gram smiled. “To me, he was.”
“We’ll do all the things you think he’d have liked to do,” Nora suggested.
“I’d love that.” Gram stood back up. “I’ll start making a list.”
Nora yawned. “I’m planning to go to bed. You could always make a list tomorrow.”
Gram shook her head. “Seize the day.”
“The day is over. I’m heading to bed. You should too,” Nora said with a laugh.
“There’s never enough time, is there?” Gram asked, thoughts behind her eyes that Nora couldn’t decipher.
Guilt pinged around inside Nora. Gram probably felt alone while Nora worked all day. She wanted to stay up with Gram and spend time with her, but she was absolutely exhausted.
Gram kissed her cheek. “Don’t mind me. I’m sentimental in my old age.” She fluttered her hands in the air. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Nora gave Gram a hug. This trip couldn’t come soon enough.