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 His eyes, looking more gray than blue now, told her that he had withdrawn into his own thoughts and fears.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.”
“I need some clothes,” Guy called to Ivy from the second floor of the cottage.
Ivy walked as far as the kitchen. ʺThey take longer to wash than you do,ʺ she called from the base of the steps. ʺThatʹs what the beach towelʹs for. When you come down, help yourself to anything you want to eat.ʺ
She returned to the living room to work on a large puzzle, one of the many Aunt Cindy kept for rainy days at the inn. After clearing the coffee table, she sat on the sofa and studied the box top, which showed a painting of an idyllic New England town and bridge. Sorting through the jigsaw box, she pulled out green pieces with straight edges.
Guy came in a few minutes later, munching an apple. His hair was still wet, darker than its usual streaky gold. Ivyʹs beach towel hung on him like a low-waisted skirt, leaving little to the imagination about his upper body strength — or his injuries. It took all of her self‐discipline not to stare at him.
ʺWhere should I sit?ʺ he asked.
ʺWherever you want.ʺ He glanced down at the puzzle box, then sat in an armchair that faced the coffee table, making an L with the sofa. Ivy, having extracted a small pile of green puzzle pieces, handed him the box, hoping the puzzle would take his mind off things. As Guy sorted through the contents, pulling out straight‐edged pieces of blue sky, he started to hum off‐key, which made Ivy smile.
ʺAre you laughing at me?ʺ he asked. She met his bright eyes. ʺI wouldnʹt dare..
What is that song?ʺ
ʺYou canʹt tell?ʺ He grinned at her. ʺNeither can I.ʺ She tried humming what she had just heard, adjusting the flat notes, then said suddenly, ʺʹIf I Loved You.ʺ
Guy looked up at her, startled.
ʺIf s the title,ʺ she explained, and sang the first three lines for him. He laughed.
ʺOh, yeah, now I recognize it.ʺ
ʺItʹs from—ʺ Ivyʹs hand went up to her mouth as she remembered.
ʺFrom what?ʺ
ʺCarouselʺ she answered softly. Last year, when attempting to communicate with her as an angel, Tristan had played on her piano the first few notes of a song from Carousel.
ʺDo you like musicals?ʺ she asked Guy, pulling herself back to the present.
ʺI guess I do.ʺ
They continued working on the puzzle. Ivy musing over the strange connection between events. ʺHereʹs one of yours,ʺ Guy said, suddenly leaning close to her, placing the green piece he had found next to those she had gathered.
Ivy was caught off guard — she couldnʹt explain it, the feeling that swept through her at that moment. She became acutely aware of Guy, felt his nearness like a kind of heat inside her. Astonished, she sat back quickly. She thought about getting up, putting distance between them. But confusion and pride kept her cemented in place. She touched her cheeks, afraid they had turned a warm pink.