Chapter 23
CASSIA
“I don’t want to blur the lines between personal and business, England. Yes, I’d love to film while we’re on the road, but I’m not a filmmaker. I’m an editor.”
“Look at this as your opportunity to develop a new skill,” England said pleadingly.
“Come on, Cassia. You’ll already be with us all the time, and if you’re the one filming, that means we won’t have to deal with some stranger all up in our business filming stupid shit we don’t want the public to know about. ”
“Like what?” I asked, my thoughts instantly jumping to how Ivy was conceived and wondering just how often that happened when the band was on tour.
No. I was not going to think about that.
Memphis and I had made a commitment to each other, even though we hadn’t gotten married yet.
We lived together, parented Ivy together, spent every night next to each other, argued and made up, and had created a happy life.
I knew in my heart he would never cheat on me.
Just like before, I was grateful that he’d had that interlude with Regina, because it’s what brought us Ivy and brought us together.
“Like when Wild runs his mouth until the other guys get so frustrated that they do something childish, like wrestle him to the ground and take turns farting near his face in the hopes that he would get pink eye.”
My lip curled so far in disgust that I felt a pain in my cheek. “Are you just pulling crazy ideas out of the air, or did they really do that?”
“You’ve known them for a while now. What do you think?”
“Did he get pink eye?” England shook her head, so I shrugged. “Well, at least there’s that, right?”
“What I’m saying is that by having someone who loves them all enough not to plot their deaths and inevitable destruction do the filming and editing, events like that won’t be seen by the masses and disgust God knows how many fans.”
“You’re saying you’d like an actual documentary rather than a music version of Jackass?”
"That's exactly what I’m saying!”
I looked around and realized Ivy wasn’t in front of the house where she’d been just a minute ago. I sat up straighter to scan the area for her and Dobby, who had become her constant companion.
“Where’s Ivy?” I asked as I jumped up from my chair.
Because this wasn’t the first time she’d wandered off, I knew that if I yelled for her she might not answer–but Dobby definitely would.
I shouted her name and waited. I was off the porch and down on the grass when I heard Dobby barking frantically in the distance.
As I sprinted back up onto the porch to cut through the house instead of running around it, I yelled, “Red alert! We’ve got a runner! ”
“Well, shit!” I heard Erisa say from her seat at the bar.
Iliana’s curse words drifted down from the landing, followed by the sound of her feet pounding down the stairs as I rushed out the back door toward the shop.
I was cursing myself for my inattention almost as much as I was cursing Memphis for insisting that with Dobby by her side, Ivy would be safe to roam farther than the edge of the porch.
In his defense, he hadn’t suggested I let her run amok in the fields, but he had encouraged me to “loosen her leash and let the poor girl have some breathing room.” It terrified me, but it seemed to make Ivy very happy.
“Ivy!” I yelled again, which caused Dobby to start barking even more frantically. Suddenly, he appeared around the front corner of the shop. He barked a few more times before darting away. I could hear the sound echoing throughout the building, so I knew the bay doors must be open.
London was right behind me when I slipped on the gravel and fell rounding the corner, but I ignored the pain in my calf and kept going, my urgent need to find my daughter and wring her neck for scaring the shit out of me more important than the discomfort.
Inside the shop, I spotted Dobby near the far end by the swing Jamie and Daughtry had installed for Ivy. He was standing on his hind legs with his front paws on the bumper of an old car Harley had brought in to work on soon after he got home, but that wasn’t the problem.
The problem was that Dobby was barking at the ceiling.
When he paused to take a breath, I heard Ivy yell, “Mama!” from somewhere above me.
I looked up . . . and up . . . and up . .
. until I found my daughter straddling the wide metal beam that stretched across the shop.
Her feet swung in glee, the small lights on her shoes blinking in the dimness of the rafters.
I watched in horror as she raised her hand and waved at me with a loud giggle.
“Fuuuuuck,” England whispered beside me.
I couldn’t respond. There was no air in my lungs.
Soon, I would pass out. Hopefully, when I woke up, I’d realize this was all a dream.
No. This was a nightmare. My daughter was a hundred feet off the ground, perched above a huge slab of concrete dotted with machinery and large trucks and vehicles–nothing that would soften the landing if Ivy fell.
“Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit,” Erisa chanted from behind me.
“I’m calling 911,” England whispered.
“I’m calling Memphis!” Iliana added.
“I’m just gonna pass out,” Erisa muttered.
Me, too, little sister. Me too.
“Ivy, be still, sweetheart,” I ordered as she scooted closer to the crossbeam where Jamie’s birds were perched.
“Birdie, play!” Ivy squealed as she kept moving.
“Ivy Cassandra Belushi Forrester, be still!” I screamed.
Ivy stilled and turned her head to stare at me in shock.
It was rare that I ever used that tone with her.
I hoped that it might prompt her to fucking listen to me for once.
Instead, as she looked down at me, I could see the gears whirring behind her eyes.
She was making calculations about how far away I was and how quickly I could get to her.
I watched her face transform from shock to glee when she realized there was nothing I could do. She had free rein to wreak whatever havoc had prompted her to climb up there in the first place.
“Get under her,” I ordered. “Iliana, Erisa–go catch her if she falls. I’m going to go get that thingy and try to go up and retrieve her.”
“Thingy?” England asked as she followed me toward the back of the shop where Jamie kept the heavy equipment she used to move structures. When I stopped in front of the machine I’d watched Daughtry and Jamie use to install the swing, England brightened. “Oh! A scissor lift! That’s perfect!”
“Do you know how to operate it?” I asked desperately.
“No.”
“Well, shit!” I glanced over my shoulder and saw Ivy waving down at my sisters.
I shuddered before turning back to the machine and climbing onto the platform.
The controls looked relatively simple, but I knew if I didn’t calm down, I’d never be able to operate the damn thing.
Under my breath, I chanted, “I can do this.”
England climbed into the lift and assured me, “I know you can! I’ve dated some construction workers in my day, and all of them could work things like this, but most of them were too stupid to speak in full sentences.
” She laughed nervously. “Wow. That says a lot about my dating history, doesn’t it? ”
I didn’t answer. I was too busy studying the control box to figure out how to move the machine. I hooted in victory when I saw the faded print above a large red button: Pull to operate. Beneath it, another label read: Push to stop.
I pulled the red button and hit the icon with an arrow pointing forward. England yelled, “Bingo!” as we started moving.
“What in the fuck is going on?” I heard a man yell as I steered the lift between two cars toward the open space beneath Ivy. I knew he’d realized the problem when Loyal yelled, “Holy shit!”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I muttered, silently willing the machine to move faster.
I heard boots pounding on the concrete and sirens in the distance, along with the rumble of motorcycles nearby.
As I rounded the back of the cars and turned toward the end of the barn, I looked up to make sure Ivy was still in the same spot.
Memphis's brother Harley was already shimmying up one of the cables that held Ivy’s swing in place.
“What is he doing?” I asked aloud.
“Hop down, England,” Loyal ordered as he climbed up the side of the lift and swung over the safety rail. “Let me in there, Cassia.”
I knew Loyal could work this machine much more deftly than I ever could, so I moved aside and squeezed past him to the back of the platform as England jumped to the ground. Suddenly, the machine started moving twice as fast as before, and we were rising at the same time.
Since Loyal was driving, I could focus on Ivy and try to will her to stay still.
However, I realized that Harley was going to reach her before we had a chance.
As I watched, he grabbed the metal beam and swung his legs up to wrap around it, squirming until he was atop it on his stomach.
A split second later, he was walking along the beam at a quick pace, as if he weren’t a thousand feet above the ground fighting gravity in a battle of life and death.
“Holy shit,” I whispered in awe.
“You keep saying that, but it’s not a big deal. The girl’s fine. She’s probably enjoying the chaos.”
I glanced at Loyal in horror, but he didn’t notice.
He was too busy angling the lift to get us directly beneath Ivy.
Luckily, I could still see Harley walking along the beam.
I let out a muffled shout of relief when he dropped down to straddle it just a few feet from Ivy, reaching out to grab the back of her shirt to stop her from scooting any further away.
“Oh, thank God!” I muttered, lightheaded with relief. She wasn’t safely on the ground yet, but she was still, and Harley was holding her as securely as someone could that far in the air.
“How in the hell did she get up there?” I heard Iliana ask from somewhere below us.