ʺHey, Will,ʺ she said. ʺGet everything you wanted?ʺ
ʺWhoʹs Will?ʺ At the sound of Guyʹs voice, Ivy spun around, not sure if she felt annoyed or glad about his reappearance. ʺHow did you know where to find me?ʺ
ʺYour hospital papers. How did you know Iʹd come back to the parking lot?ʺ
He was wearing the sweatshirt and cargos she had bought him — and his old shoes; the new ones were tied to the backpack.
ʺI didnʹt. I was just too mad to go back in the store and return the stuff.ʺ
One side of Guyʹs mouth lifted in a smile. He dropped his backpack on the porch. Seeing a new bedroll attached to it. Ivy hoped he had used her cash rather than shoplifting it.
ʺHave a seat,ʺ she invited. He shook his head and leaned against the railing facing her. Iʹm kind of muddy.ʺ ʺWhere have you been staying?ʺ He shrugged.
ʺAround.ʺ Ivy closed her book. ʺAround here?ʺ ʺHere and there,ʺ he replied elusively. ʺHave you eaten anything in the last four days?ʺ
ʺYeah,ʺ said Guy, ʺbut you donʹt want to know what.ʺ
ʺSure I do.ʺ He laughed. Was it the unshaven cheeks, the tousled hair, or the mischief in his eyes? What made his laughter sexy? ʺLeftovers,ʺ he said. ʺAn assortment of leftovers.ʺ
ʺYum. Why didnʹt you come here right away?ʺ
ʺBecause you had already done enough.ʺ
ʺThen why are you here now?ʺ Guyʹs face grew serious. There was something mesmerizing about his eyes and the way they seemed to peer into her soul. She had no power to look away.
ʺBecause Iʹm hungry enough.ʺ He turned away from her and gazed out at the water. ʺNice view.ʺ
ʺSo what will it be,ʺ she asked, ʺbreakfast, lunch, or dinner?ʺ
ʺWhatever you have.ʺ She stood up and held open the door for him. ʺCome on.ʺ
ʺIʹll stay outside.ʺ
ʺNo oneʹs here,ʺ she said. ʺCome on in.ʺ ʺWhat if Witt comes home?ʺ Ivy thought she caught a gleam in Guyʹs eye. ʺThen Iʹll introduce you/ʹ she said. ʺI feel better out here.ʺ
Ivy shook her head. ʺAll right, but if I make you a meal, and come back and find youʹre gone, Iʹll be really teed off.ʺ
ʺIf s almost worth hiding in the bushes, just to see you lose it,ʺ he replied, grinning. Sitting on the floor of the porch, he rested his back against the wood railing.
Ivy retreated to the kitchen, and after a momentʹs thought made him a cheese omelet, figuring it would have plenty of protein, then cut a huge slab of Aunt Cindyʹs homemade bread. She added to the tray an assortment of fruit and a cup of tea, and carried the tray through the parlor, pausing to look at Guy through the screen door. His eyes were closed and his shoulders sagged against the porch balusters. Ivyʹs heart went out to him — he was exhausted.
ʺI smell food/ʹ he said, opening his eyes. She pushed open the screen door, debated for a moment where to set the tray, then put it on the floor next to him.
ʺThank you,ʺ he mumbled, and started eating. Pushing aside her chair, Ivy sat on the porch floor a few feet away, studying him. He had removed his shoes and pushed up one sleeve to eat. She saw that his feet and ankles were bruised badly, as was his forearm. The fight heʹd been in must have been brutal.
ʺSo where are you staying?ʺ Ivy asked. ʺWe already went over that,ʺ he replied.
She nodded. ʺI thought maybe this time youʹd answer.ʺ
ʺAround.ʺ Ivy drummed her fingers against the porch floor and asked herself where she would go if she wanted to sleep outside inconspicuously yet be around enough people to acquire ʺleftovers.ʺ Since he didnʹt have a car, some place not too far away. ʺNickerson State Park,ʺ she said aloud.
His face remained a cipher. Having set down his fork, he picked up the mug of tea, holding it with both hands, as if he were warming them. It wasnʹt warmth Guy needed. Ivy thought, but com* fort, kindness. She didnʹt know how to help him; last time, her comfort and kindness had set him running.
ʺHave you remembered anything about who you are?ʺ He took a sip of tea.
ʺNo.ʺ
ʺAre there still things that seem vaguely familiar?ʺ Guy frowned and gazed down at his tea. She wondered if he was choosing his words, deciding what to tell her and what to hold back.
ʺIf anything, itʹs gotten worse. Now too many things seem familiar to make a pattern that I can understand. And sometimes things are contradictory. One day a smell, like a wood fire, gives me a good feeling; and the next day, that same smell makes me want to run.ʺ
ʺWhen you went to the park, did you see a sign and follow it, or do you think you may have already known it was there?ʺ
He hesitated. You can trust me, Ivy wanted to say. Sometimes the hardest thing to do was wait until another person decided to trust you.
ʺI saw it on a map. I remember general things— such as motels having free maps in their lobbies. When I saw the size of the park on the map, I knew I could survive there and could hide if they came after me.ʺ Ivy leaned forward. ʺWhoʹs they?ʺ
ʺI donʹt know.ʺ
ʺBut itʹs more than one person?ʺ
ʺI donʹt know!ʺ His eyes became a stormy blue. ʺHow am I supposed to know?ʺ
Ivy bit her lip, realizing she had pressed too hard. His eyes, looking more gray than blue now, told her that he had withdrawn into his own thoughts and fears.
He ran his finger over the long cut under his jaw. Ivy felt afraid for him, but she knew that telling him that would make him even more skittish of her.
ʺHereʹs what I can offer you,ʺ she said. ʺA razor and a shower.ʺ
ʺI donʹt need either,ʺ Guy answered quickly.
ʺYouʹll probably feel better. If you let me wash and dry your clothes, youʹll be good for a few more days.ʺ He grimaced. ʺTrying to make me respectable?ʺ
ʺYeah, if thatʹs possible.ʺ Guy raised an eyebrow and she laughed. ʺYou have a lot of research to do,ʺ she said.
ʺYou want people to feel comfortable talking to you.ʺ
ʹʹYou got a point,ʺ he said, smiling. “I’ll be quick.ʺ A few minutes later, in exchange for the clothes Guy had been wearing and the dirty clothes in his backpack, Ivy handed a washcloth and towel through the cottageʹs bathroom door. She had considered raiding Willʹs room for shaving supplies and deodorant, but something held her back, and she offered Guy her own instead.
ʺOh, Iʹm going to smell good!ʺ he remarked.
ʺThe laundry room is in the inn, back by the kitchen/ʹ she told him, then headed off with her bundle. While the washer was filling, Ivy searched Guyʹs pockets to make sure they were empty. She found a sheet taken from her release papers, listing the innʹs address and her familyʹs contact information, folded into a tiny square. Ivy wrote her cell phone number on it, then refolded the paper and set it in a bowl on top of the dryer. The other pocket had money in it, which she dug out and placed in the same bowl. When a glint of gold caught her eye, she poured the money back in her hand. Her breath caught in her throat.
A shiny coin stamped with an angel lay in her palm, like a sign from heaven.
PHILIP HAD REACHED OUT TO GUY AT THE HOSPITAL, IVY thought on her way back to the cottage, just as she had. Her instincts were right; both she and Philip were meant to find and help Guy. Ivy smiled to herself; maybe they were Guyʹs ʺangels.”