"Tristan."
She nodded.
He tugged on her arm, pulling her closer to him. "Sit down."
"Gregory, I don't want to talk about it."
"Then just listen. Hear me out. You love Tristan. You love him like you love no one else."
Ivy pulled away a little, but he held her fingers tightly. "Listen! If you had been the one killed in the accident, what would you have wanted for Tristan? Would you want no one else to love him? Would you want him to be alone the rest of his life?"
"No, of course not," she said. "Of course not," he repeated softly. Then he pulled her down into the chair with him. The metal was cold and hard.
"I've been thinking about you all day and all night," he said.
He caressed her lightly; his fingers tracing her face and die bones of her neck. He kissed her as gently as he would a child. She let him, but she didn't kiss him back.
"I've been waiting here all night," he said. "I need to get out. How about going for a ride with me?"
"We can't leave Philip," Ivy reminded him.
"Sure we can," Gregory replied softly. "He's sound asleep. We'll lock up the house and turn on the outside alarm. We can drive around for a little while. And I won't talk any more, promise."
"We can't leave Philip," she said a second time.
"He´ll be all right. There's nothing wrong with riding around, Ivy. There's nothing wrong with blasting the stereo and driving a little fast. There's nothing wrong with having a good time."
"I don't want to go," she said.
She felt his body go rigid.
"Not tonight," she added quickly. "I'm tired, Gregory. I really need to go to bed. Another night, maybe."
"All right. Whatever you want," he said, his voice husky. He sagged back against the chair. "Get some sleep."
Ivy left him there and felt her way through the dark house. She checked on Philip, then walked through the adjoining bath to her own bedroom, where she was greeted by Ella's glowing eyes. Ivy switched on a small bureau lamp, and Ella began to purr.
"Is that purr for me," Ivy asked, "or him?"
Tristan's picture, the one his mother had given her, sat within the yellow circle of light.
Ivy took die picture in her hands. Tristan smiled up at her, wearing his old baseball cap-backward, of course. His school jacket flapped open, as if he were walking toward her. Sometimes she still couldn't believe that he was dead. Her head knew that he was, knew that in one sudden moment Tristan had stopped existing, but her heart just wouldn't let go.
"Love you, Tristan," she said, then kissed the photograph. "Sweet dreams."
Ivy woke up screaming. Her voice was hoarse, as if she had been screaming for hours. The clock said
1:15 A.M.
"It's okay! You're safe! Everything's okay, Ivy."
Gregory had his arms around her. Philip stood next to the bed, clutching Ella.
Ivy stared at them, then sank back against Gregory. "When will it stop? When will this nightmare end?"
"Shh, shh. Everything's okay."
But it wasn't. The nightmare kept growing. It kept adding on details, continually sending out tendrils of fear that curled into the dark places of her mind. Ivy closed her eyes, resting her head against Gregory.
"Why does she keep dreaming?" Philip asked.
"I'm not sure," Gregory said. "I guess it's part of getting over the accident."
"Sometimes dreams are messages from angels," Philip suggested. He said angels quickly, then glanced at Ivy, as if he thought she'd yell at him for mentioning them again.
Gregory studied Philip for a moment, then asked, "Angels are good, aren't they?"
Philip nodded.
"Well, if angels are good," Gregory reasoned, "do you think they'd be sending Ivy bad dreams?"
Philip thought about it, then slowly shook his head. "No… but maybe it's a bad angel doing it."
Ivy felt Gregory stiffen.
"It's just my mind doing it," she said quietly. "It's just my mind getting used to what happened to Tristan and me. In a while, the nightmares will stop."
But she was lying. She was afraid the dreams would never stop. And she was starting to think that there was something more to them than her getting over Tristan's death.
"I have an idea, Philip," Gregory said. "Until Ivy's nightmares stop, we'll take turns waking her up and staying with her. Tonight's my turn. Next time it's yours, okay?"
Philip looked doubtfully from Gregory to Ivy. "Okay," he said at last- "Ivy, can I take Ella in my room?"
"Sure. She'd love to cuddle with you."
Ivy watched her brother as he carried Ella, his head bent over her, his brow furrowed..
"Philip," she called after him. "When I get home from work tomorrow, we'll do something, just you and me. Think about what you want it to be — something fun. Everything's all right Philip. Really. Everything will be all right."
He nodded, but she could tell that he didn't believe her.
"Sleep tight," Ivy said. "You've got Ella with you. And your angel," she added.
He looked at her, his eyes wide with surprise. "You saw him, too?"
Ivy hesitated.