I glanced out in the hall at the sound of Ivy’s laugh.
She was holding court with nearly half the damn town, her subpar outfit forgotten. She was made for the spotlight, and fame truly did become her. She put everyone around her at ease, and as much as I’d had trouble coming to terms with it in the beginning, her influence in Grace’s family’s life seemed genuinely positive.
They smiled and laughed and let go of some of their grief. They had faith in Ivy and the movie, and they wanted the closure for their loved one almost as much as they wanted it for themselves.
Just like me, they’d spent the last six years trying to get over it—but it’d taken the last few months to get them closer.
“She’s somethin’, huh?” Sam asked from my side, startling me with his presence. I’d damn near forgotten he was there, I’d been so entranced by watching Ivy.
“Who?” I asked, the innocent act sounding false to even my own ears.
Sam laughed outright. “Who? That’s funny. Shoo!”
“Sam…”
“What, boy? You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her? The way she looks at you? I’m old, but my eyesight is just fine.”
“It’s complicated,” I told him.
He laughed. “Yeah, Lee. I got that. But are you gonna tell me something I don’t know?”
I shook my head with a smile and sat back in my chair. I tossed the tissue I’d been playing with for the last fifteen minutes in the garbage and turned his inquisition around on him. “Okay, big shot. Why don’t you tell me? What should I be saying?”
Sam rolled his eyes and dove right into it, ornery righteousness thickening his normally crackly voice. “How about that you loved Grace, and while you kept your mouth shut about that for the sake of everyone else, it’s been killing you every day since?”
The smile slipped off my face, but he kept going.
“Or you could talk about how you still feel guilty over what really happened to my granddaughter, and you’ve decided to close yourself off ever since?”
“Sam,” I whispered, my voice tarnished. “How the hell—”
He waved an aggravated hand in front of his face. “Nobody else knows. But my granddaughter told me a lot of things, and with a little observation and a lot of time, I’ve put together the rest.”
I closed my eyes and dropped my head back, covering my face with my hands.
“What I don’t understand is why you’re carrying any of that shit over to Ivy. You know as well as I do that she and Grace are two different people. About the only thing tying them together is you.”
I uncovered my eyes and leaned into my knees. Sam met my eyes and held them.
“I’m not comparing the two of them.” He scoffed, and I shook my head. “I’m not. Not anymore.”
“Knock knock,” Ivy said from the door. I spun my head quickly to her face, desperate to search it for signs that she’d heard what we were talking about.
A soft smile curved the corners of her lips and convinced me she hadn’t caught even the tail end.
“I just wanted to say goodbye,” she told Sam. “I’m gonna head home and get changed. But I’m glad you’re doing okay. I’ll be checking on you via text and bugging you until you’re ready for a rain check on our dinner.”
“Soon,” he promised. “Mary will try to keep me bedridden, but they won’t be able to keep me down.”
Ivy laughed and turned to me. “Thanks, Levi,” she muttered, confidence waning enough that she looked to the ground when she said my name. “I’ll, uh, get these clothes back to you tomorrow at work. Maybe you can bring mine too?”
I nodded, but Sam caught my eye and glared, jerking his chin at Ivy. I did my best to give in to his demands.
“Ivy, wait,” I called as she cleared the door to Sam’s room and turned back at the sound of my voice.
“Yeah?”
“I’ll walk you out.”
This time, she didn’t fight me.
“Okay.”
Ivy was quiet as we walked side by side down the long hallway to the main entrance of the hospital.
It’d taken a few minutes to say our goodbyes, having to go through the bevy of Murphys and the chief and his wife, Margo, but we’d finally done it. Of course, I’d gotten a slap to the head from the chief as a parting gift.
As it turned out, he didn’t like being hung up on, no matter the circumstances.
“Sorry for the way I took off,” Ivy said, breaking in to the silence. “You know, back at your house. I realized on the way here how ridiculous it was.”
I shrugged and gave her elbow a squeeze. “No big deal. And it wasn’t ridiculous. It was nice to know you care about Sam that much. He seems to feel the same way about you.”
“Were you talking about me in there?”
“Not really,” I lied. “I can just tell.”
Thankfully, she nodded, letting me off the hook instead of demanding an explanation.
The automatic doors at the entrance opened with a whoosh, and we stepped outside into the cold night air. The sun had set completely now, and any marginal warmth of the day had completely disappeared.
“God,” she moaned as the bitter wave hit us in the face. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to the cold.”
I smiled at that, thinking of how nice she must have it in California. Bad weather of slightly cloudy days and cold temperatures in the upper sixties. Born in raised in Cold, I only had my imagination to guide me.
“Must be a tough transition,” I agreed, putting a soft hand to the small of her back as we headed for the car.
The windshields of every car we passed were foggy with the change in temperature, but when hers came into view, I pulled her to a stop with a fierce grip on the fabric of her sweatshirt.
My bones locked, and my lungs froze as the past washed over me.
On her windshield, smudged into the frosty glass, was a distinctly familiar broken heart.