"Beth, that's great! Which story?"
"The one I did for drama club. You know, it was in the lit mag at school last spring."
Ivy tried to recall it. "I've read so many now."
"'She clutched the gun to her breast,'" Beth began. "'Hard and blue, cold and unyielding. Photos of him.
Frail and faded photos of him — of him with her — torn up, tear-soaked, salt-crusted photos,' et cetera, et cetera."
Two waitresses, carrying full trays, had stopped to listen.
"What is it?" Beth asked Ivy. "You've got a really funny look on your face."
"Nothing… nothing, I was just thinking," Ivy replied.
"You've been doing a lot of that lately."
Ivy laughed. "Maybe I can keep it up next month when school starts."
Their check was dropped on the table. Ivy reached for her purse.
"Listen," Beth said, "why don't you sleep over at my house tonight? We don't have to talk. We'll watch videos, polish our nails, bake cookies. ." She popped the tip of her sugar cone into her mouth. "Low-cal cookies," she added.
Ivy smiled, then began digging in her purse for money. "I should get home, Beth."
"No, you shouldn't."
Ivy stopped digging. Beth had spoken with such certainty.
"I don't know why," Beth said, twisting a piece of her hair self-consciously. "You just shouldn't."
"I have to be home," Ivy told her. "If Philip wakes up in the middle of the night and finds I'm not there, he'll think something's wrong."
"Call him," her friend replied. "If he's asleep, Gregory can leave a note by his bed. You shouldn't go home tonight. It's… a feeling, a really strong feeling I have."
"Beth, I know you get these feelings, and one time before you were right, but this time it's different. The doors will be locked. Gregory is home. Nothing is going to happen to me."
Beth was looking past Ivy's shoulder, her eyes narrowing as if she was trying to focus on something.
Ivy turned around quickly and saw a curly-haired man in a shiny yellow bowling shirt. He winked at her, and Ivy turned back.
"Can I stay over with you?" Beth asked.
"What? No. Not tonight," Ivy said. "I need some sleep, and you need to finish that story I interrupted.
This was my treat," she added, scooping up the check.
In the parking lot Ivy said good-bye several times, and Beth left her reluctantly.
As Ivy drove home she thought about Beth's story. The details of Caroline's suicide had not been made public, so Beth didn't know about the photos that Caroline had torn up the day she shot herself. It was funny the way Beth came up with things in her writing that seemed farfetched and kind of melodramatic, until some version of diem came true.
When Ivy arrived home, she saw that all the lights in the house were out except one, a lamp in Gregory's room. She hoped he hadn't noticed her car coming up the drive. She left it outside the ga*age. That way, if he got worried, he could see that she had arrived home safely. Ivy planned to go up the center stairs so she wouldn't have to pass his room. In the afternoon Gregory had called the shop twice. She knew he wanted to talk, and she wasn't ready, It was a warm evening, with no moon up yet, only stars sequining the sky. Ivy gazed up at them for a few moments, then walked quietly across the grass and patio.
"Where have you been?"
She jumped. She hadn't seen him sitting in the shadow of the house.
"What?"
"Where have you been?"
Ivy prickled at his tone. "Out," she said.
"You should have called me back. Why didn't you call me back. Ivy?"
"I was busy with customers."
"I thought you'd come home right after work."
Ivy dropped her keys noisily onto a cast-iron table. "And I thought I wouldn't be questioned about going out for an hour — not by you. I'm getting tired of it, Gregory!"
She could hear him shifting in the chair, but couldn't see his face.
"I'm getting tired of everyone watching out for me! Beth isn't my mother, and you're not my big brother!"
He laughed softly. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I was afraid that Eric had gotten you mixed up."
Ivy dropped her head a little, then said, "Maybe he did." She took a step toward die house.
Gregory caught her wrist. "We need to talk."
"I need to think, Gregory."
"Then think out loud," he said.
She shook her head.
"Ivy, listen to me. We're not doing anything wrong."
"Then why do I feel so-so confused? And so disloyal?"
"To Suzanne?" he asked.
"Suzanne thinks you're seeing someone else," Ivy told him.
"I am," he replied quietly. "I'm just not sure if she's seeing me…. Are you?"