Chapter 8 Dove #3
Her voice trailed off as she looked toward the porch, where Liv stood waving her hands in front of people’s faces with a grin. Then she hopped onto the railing and puffed out her chest.
“If she delivers a Gettysburg Address, I’m out of here,” Ellis muttered.
Ellis waved at Liv, who had her mouth open and poised—as if preparing to deliver something theatrical—but, catching Ellis’s eye, she jumped down from the porch and pranced over to us, eyes alight.
“This place is so boring,” she announced as she arrived.
“We’re going to the gift shop,” Ellis told her, her tone firm. She sighed. “Also, the action park is closed for maintenance, so we can’t go.”
Liv blinked, then shrugged. “Sure. It’s not the only park on the route.”
We were halfway to the gift shop when an adrenaline-inducing thought washed through me, and my eyes moved to the Mustang, where Margaret’s ashes still sat in the back seat, in the tote bag, waiting to begin their own adventure.
“Detour,” I called cheerfully, excitement coating my voice. “Ellis, unlock the car.”
Ellis gave me that critical look as she began to follow. She looked wary as she approached the Mustang and unlocked the door.
I opened the back door and fished out the smaller sandwich bag I had stashed in the tote, along with an unused tablespoon I’d swiped from the kitchen while frantically packing.
I could feel Ellis hovering over my shoulder; the tension radiating off her grew by the second as I popped open the larger sandwich bag that held Margaret.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice low and aghast.
“This is the perfect part of Illinois to scatter her,” I said simply, scooping two heaping tablespoons of my deceased grandmother into the smaller bag, careful not to spill any. “I want to scatter her in every state.”
“It’s illegal to just scatter ashes without the right permissions!” Ellis hissed. I could already see her catastrophizing, practically visualizing handcuffs and grand juries.
“No one’s going to know,” I told her airily as I sealed both bags, dumped the spoon back in the tote, and stepped backward, forcing Ellis back as I shut the door.
Liv grinned widely as I headed for the large tree behind Lincoln’s house, and Ellis hurried after me.
“This is the president’s backyard!” she said, outrage coloring her voice.
I rolled my eyes as I came to stand under the tree.
“What if someone sees?” Ellis demanded, hands on her hip.
“No one’s going to see if you stop hissing like a cat and drawing attention to us,” I told her coolly.
Ellis said nothing; she crossed her arms and regarded me disapprovingly. I looked to Liv instead. She seemed a whole lot more optimistic.
“Do you say something?” Liv asked, her voice suddenly gentle, her eyes a little wider. “I’ve never scattered ashes before.”
I bit my lip and eyed the bag in my hand. “I guess so. I only thought this far ahead.”
“How about we don’t say anything, put her back in the car, and leave before we get arrested?” Ellis snapped, lips thin.
I ignored her and looked down at the ashes, taking a breath and trying to control the growing lump in my chest as the gravity of what I was about to do settled in. I was about to leave behind a small piece of her; I hadn’t realized the weight of the choice until I was here, making it.
I knew, though, that Margaret would never want to be kept forever. She wouldn’t want her ashes stored away to be mourned. Scattering was what she wanted, and I knew she would have loved the final journey before the big one in Los Angeles.
I had to honor her wishes and ignore my own feelings.
I cleared my throat. “The first step on the long road ahead,” I said quietly. Liv bowed her head in reverence. Ellis glanced at her, sighed, and bowed her own. “To final adventures and new beginnings.”
I tipped the bag upside down, and like a bad punch line, a breeze drifted through us. The leaves above us danced, and the ashes lifted on the air, some drifting away from us. Some… blew directly into Ellis, just as she lifted her head.
She shrieked, her hand immediately flying to her face as she jumped up and down on the spot, wiping at her face aggressively and coughing like a Victorian-era orphan, as if desperate to dispel the microscopic amount of ash that had hit her.
It seemed a little dramatic.
“You’re going to draw attention,” I whispered, tucking the now-empty bag into my pocket. Liv winced as Ellis coughed and stepped away from her. “Relax.”
It was the wrong thing to say, I realized, as Ellis went completely still. Her icy-green eyes flashed as they met mine; outrage shone in them.
“Relax?” she repeated, hissing my word. “Relax? I just got a taste of your grandmother’s corpse—for the second time!”
She was theatrically infuriating, and she had the nerve to roll her eyes at Liv of all people.
“Look,” I began calmly, feeling my own petty attitude rising, “while you shake it off, can you, like, shake upward and flick the rest of her onto the wind?”
She stared at me in scandalized silence. Liv’s eyes widened and she fought a grin, clapping a hand over her mouth. Ellis gave me one last withering look before turning on her heel and storming back to the car.
“I’m going to go shower,” Ellis announced just as she finished tipping the last shards of glass from the broken mirror into the bin.
They were the first words she had spoken to me since we arrived back, and they would likely be the only ones now.
Clutching her clothes and shower shoes to her chest, she walked with purpose toward the bathroom.
I nodded and returned to my iPad, maintaining my sprawl across the bed as I dragged my drawing pencil across the screen, working on a draft for the Ten of Swords card.
It was coming along perfectly—all dark and moody—and I eyed the figure on the ground with ten swords plunged into his back.
It felt a little too on the nose for this trip, if I was being honest.
My phone dinged, and I glanced down to see a text from Ida.
Ida [6:45 p.m.]
Hey lovey. Just letting you know the shop is still standing. We had a good day of sales and only one request for a reading. Told the customers that asked after you that you were on a soul-searching sabbatical LOL. Hope you’re having fun, kid. You deserve it. Text if you need anything.
—Ida
Relief settled in my chest. I texted back a quick thank-you. I would be lost without her. I couldn’t wait to tell her about the stolen ashes. She would lose her mind. Should I pre-warn her? Give her the option to fly to L.A. to scatter them with me?
“You’re a good drawer,” Liv said suddenly, now beside me on the bed, eyeing the image on the iPad. “And I’m not saying that just because I’m dead and have to be nice—because I don’t—but you’re actually good.”
Surprise filled me. I gaped at her for a moment.
“Um, thanks?”
A moment of silence perched between us as I set my phone on the nightstand. My eyes caught on the plastic container Ellis had left there earlier, a small pill organizer labeled Sunday through Saturday, each day with an A.M. and P.M. compartment. Today’s A.M. section was already empty.
“Her meds,” Liv said with a sigh, and I glanced at her. “She has to take them at the same time every day.”
I nodded slowly, the weight of that little container, and what it meant, suddenly pressing down on me.
“Are they all for the transplant?” I asked.
Liv nodded. “Pretty much. Rejection prevention, infection prevention, blood pressure, kidney protection, and then something for the side effects all those cause. Her stomach’s wrecked from them half the time.
Listen, if she ever says she needs to go to the toilet, you goddamn find her one fast, you got it? ”
My eyes widened at the fierceness in Liv’s voice, like she actually cared. She turned to look at me, her expression softer than usual. Less smirk. Something more... knowing.
“Ellis is messed up, my friend,” Liv said with a shrug.
“On a whole other level. And it’s not her fault.
She’s been living her whole life against the clock, and now she lives with the fear of missing a dose, but also hating that every dose is just another reminder that she’s still living on the edge. ”
I swallowed hard and looked back down at the Ten of Swords.
“I think she likes you,” Liv said suddenly, that soft expression vanishing, replaced by her favorite shit-stirring smirk. “You’re into girls, right? You seem the type. Well, so is Ellis. You wanna know how I know she likes you?”
“She doesn’t like me, Liv,” I said, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. Ellis was into women? She didn’t… she didn’t give off the… no. That was stereotyping, and I mentally slapped myself. Bad Dove.
“Everyone always talks about her illness. All. The. Time,” Liv muttered, her voice low and grim.
“They ask how she feels before they even say hello. The girl can’t even sneeze without her mother launching into hospital stories.
She’s tired. Worn out. But the problem is she let it become her entire personality, and now she’s lost as fuck. But that’s why she likes you.”
I frowned. “Because I’m rude and haven’t asked how she’s feeling?”
“Because you haven’t asked,” Liv said in a duh tone. “I’ve dropped hints about her, and you know about the heart stuff, but you haven’t tried to start a conversation about it. You don’t treat her like she’s breakable.”
I blinked at her. “Liv, that’s not some profound act of kindness on my part. I say nothing because I’m bad with that kind of stuff. I have no idea what to say to her.”
“Exactly,” Liv groaned, sitting up straighter. “You just let her be. You’re the first person I’ve seen her interact with who she hasn’t led with her illness. You should’ve seen this date I watched her go on, complete trainwreck. It was the same day she met you, actually. Total fail.”
I rubbed my face and set my iPad aside, shaking my head. “Don’t go making this trip weird, Liv. I can’t think of her like that.”
“Why not?” Liv asked, smirking. “She’s cute. You’re cute. You guys are on a romantic road trip—”
“Far from romantic,” I cut in, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t mess around with people’s emotions, Liv. We’re driving you across the country so you can make peace with your mother. Don’t try to disturb ours.”
Liv shrugged and crossed her arms, still wearing that smug, too-knowing smile. We both heard the water shut off in the bathroom, and I sighed tiredly, shaking my head.
No. I would not allow myself to think of Ellis Langley in any way other than as a snotty road trip partner who thought everything was beneath her. I refused to acknowledge there was depth to her, because to do so would be like sealing my own fate for a heartbreak I wasn’t ready to risk again.
My last girlfriend had been more than enough to put me off dating forever. And Ellis? Ellis was pricklier than a porcupine. So, no thank you.
I glared at Liv, who still wore that irritating smirk as she stared up at the ceiling like the very picture of satisfaction.
I ignored the pill container on the nightstand and turned back to my sketch.
All I had to do was make it through this trip, get back to Chicago, invest in myself and Margaret’s shop, prove Uncle Bill and my mother wrong, and definitely not fall into some ill-fated pursuit of a woman who would almost certainly hurt me in ways I couldn’t bear to go through again.
Stick to the mission, Dove, I told myself, and went back to drawing.