C01 Take a Chance on Me

by Susan May Warren

“My motorcycle,” Casper said. “It cried in relief when you gave it to me.”

  “That Kawasaki and I have fond memories together. Like many trips out to Montana and back.”

  “Exactly my point. You wore it out.” He picked up a stick. “It needs a new muffler, maybe a timing chain. I want to work on it a bit before I head down to the Keys.”

  Tiger turned in Darek’s arms. “I wanna ride on the ’cycle, Daddy!”

  “Daddy doesn’t ride the motorcycle anymore, champ.” Darek was still trying to corral Tiger’s hands.

  “Then I want to ride the dozer! Please!”

  “The dozer?” Ivy asked.

  Darek finally had his son’s hands captured in front of him. He looked up. “I took out the old bulldozer to widen the logging trail around the property. Just to get rid of any extra wood fuel.”

  “It’s because he likes to drive heavy machinery,” Grace said. “Don’t let him lie to you.”

  “Me! I’ll drive the dozer!”

  Darek caught Tiger’s eyes. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Do you really think the fire could come this far south?” Ivy asked.

  “It could,” Casper said. “I was talking with Jed today. He says they are bringing in four type-two crews, two more hotshot crews, and three Beavers for transport.”

  “Beavers?”

  “Floatplanes,” Darek said. “Jed said they’ve got a virtual tent city set up on 153, just east of the fire. There’s a couple hundred fire personnel hunkering down there. Jed’s letting the pilots and some of the supervisors bunk in the cabins, but pretty much everyone’s on the line now, twenty-four hours a day.”

  “Really? They fight through the night?”

  He smiled, twirled his marshmallow in the flame. “There’s something about watching a fire at night, the glow against the blackness. It’s alive, and it sees you—”

  “You’re scaring me, Dare,” Grace said.

  “I guess you have to see it. But there’s an eerie magnificence to fire, especially in the woods at night. The line of fire simmering in the darkness, the trees like torches. And it hums and crackles. Like I said, alive. It’s almost magical.”

  “Except that it can kill you,” Amelia said.

  “And burn down your home,” Ingrid added.

  “But . . . it couldn’t really come all the way here, to Evergreen, could it?” Ivy asked again.

  Silence.

  “It could come all the way to Deep Haven if it isn’t stopped,” John said. “Fire does what it wants if it’s not contained. It can consume anything and takes no prisoners.”

  Ivy watched the campfire flicker, sparks dissolving into the darkness.

  “But don’t you worry, Ivy. Evergreen Resort knows how to survive,” John said quietly. “Like the flood back in ’87. And about ten years ago, three cabins were destroyed by the blowdown. Don’t worry. No forest fire is going to wipe us off the map.”

  “Owen called, by the way,” Ingrid said. “He was worried about the fire. I told him that Darek had cleaned up around the resort.”

  “Darek and Casper, sheesh,” Casper said, rolling his eyes for effect.

  “Darek cleaned up?” Ivy asked.

  “I thought I’d widen the logging road around the property. It’s just a precaution, but we have about three miles of property back into the woods and, well, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

  “Such a Boy Scout,” Casper said.

  Darek threw a marshmallow at him.

  “Eden’s working on an article about the fire, hoping to pitch it to her editor,” Ingrid said.

  “Poor Eden,” Grace said. “It’s tough to work so hard for a degree and then be relegated to the obits.”

  Ingrid’s marshmallow was browning to a beautiful amber. “See? Our weekly campfire keeps us connected. Checking in with each other’s lives. A family.”

  A family.

  Ivy wedged her hands between her knees, wishing she’d brought a jacket.

  Tiger moved over to Ingrid. “Can I have your mellow, Gran?”

  Ingrid laughed. “I think you forgot to eat the last one, kiddo. It’s all over your face. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She glanced at her husband as if hoping he’d be willing to take her fork.

  “I’ll take him to the house,” Ivy said. She held out her hand. “C’mon, Tiger.”

  Indeed, he was covered in marshmallow—her hand glued to his as they made their way to the house.

  “I like you,” Tiger said, looking up at her. “Are you going to be my new mom?”

  Oh. Uh . . .

  She scrambled for words, not sure how to answer. Thankfully, the dog emerged from the deck where she’d been hiding/digging/chasing squirrels, and Tiger let go of Ivy’s hand to race after her.

  “C’mon, Tiger!” Ivy said as she reached the deck. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

  “Oh, he’s a boy; he’ll never be clean.” Ingrid came up behind her carrying the potato salad bowl and leftover hot dogs. “I think my boys spent their formative years covered in leaves, dirt, and woodchips.” She winked and headed toward the house.

  Tiger came running up, and Ivy held open the door for him. Ingrid was piling dishes into the dishwasher. Ivy grabbed a rag and wiped Tiger’s face, his hands.

  As she rinsed the rag, she saw Tiger head out the door, back to the fire pit. “I’m going to have an ’venture,” he said as he went outside.

  “I’m glad you came tonight, Ivy.” Ingrid was still loading dishes. “You’re good for Darek.”

  She was?

  “I haven’t heard him laugh like that for . . . well, for years.”

  Ingrid closed the dishwasher and began to fill the sink with hot water for the dishes that couldn’t fit. She picked up a sponge and a cup. Ivy grabbed a dish towel.

  “He changed after he married Felicity. I think he realized that just because you make one mistake doesn’t mean you should make a second. But he had to make his own decisions. I think he thought we expected him to marry her, but we just wanted him to take responsibility for his action. Marriage only made things worse. He puts such pressure on himself.”

  She handed Ivy the cup. “That’s why it’s so good to see him loosen up.” She met Ivy’s eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Ivy gave a little laugh. “Yeah, well, I used to be the best little scullery maid in the foster system.”

  A tiny frown crossed Ingrid’s face. She turned back to the sink. “How long were you in the system?”

  “I had fourteen homes altogether, from the time I was nine to eighteen. Thankfully, the system also helped pay for college, along with my grants, so it turned out okay.” She set the cup on the counter.

  “Fourteen. Wow. I thought the system tried to adopt kids into homes.”

  “I wasn’t adoptable.”

  Ingrid glanced at her, frowned again.

  “Oh, it’s not like they didn’t try. But . . . it never worked out.” She took the next cup from Ingrid’s hand and began to wipe it. “I realized pretty early that the foster care system is like a business. The families gave me a bed and food, and I gave them a paycheck. I was a commodity, worth a little more every year.”

  Ingrid stilled. Drew her hands from the water, dripping with soap. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be at all. You’re not a commodity, Ivy. You were a little girl who needed a mom and a dad and a family. To be loved and hugged and cherished.”

  Ivy’s eyes began to burn, and she let out a laugh, anything to loosen her breath. “No. It was fine. I was fine. It worked out just . . . fine. I didn’t need any affection. It wouldn’t have been real, anyway.”

  She looked away, blinking, put the cup on the counter.

  But Ingrid didn’t move. Water from her hands dripped onto the wood floor. “No, it wasn’t fine. You should have been cared for. Loved. You should have been adopted into a family.”

  Ivy looked down, glanced at the open door. She should check on Tiger, see if he made it back to the fire pit okay. />
  Her voice sounded small as it emerged. “I did fine on my own. I learned to fit in, to not make trouble—at least until they figured out I didn’t belong, and then, well, I adapted. Learned to fit in somewhere else.” See, the terrible rush of heat had passed. She reached for another cup, but Ingrid caught her hand in her wet one.

  “You don’t have to learn to fit in here, Ivy. Just be who you are. That’s enough for us. And it’s enough for God. You’re not a commodity to Him. You’re His precious child whom He loves.”

  It was back, the tightness in her chest, the burn in her eyes, and now . . . Oh no, she had to look away because her face had begun to crumple. She wanted to say it—No, God doesn’t love me—but it felt too . . . raw. Pitiful, maybe. She blinked, trying to shake it all away.

  “Oh, my sweet girl. I’m so glad God brought you to us.” Then Ingrid reached out and pulled Ivy close, into her flannel embrace.

  And Ivy didn’t know what to do. Because it just felt so . . . so . . . Aw, shoot, Ingrid had such a tight grip on her, was holding her like she really meant it, and Ivy couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop herself from tucking her head into Ingrid’s shoulder, from covering her face with her hand, from letting the tiniest hiccup of sound escape.

  And then she was crying. Really crying and not sure why. She just couldn’t stop this terrible, ugly rush of emotions that bubbled up and out of her. She came out of herself and could hardly believe that, indeed, she was holding on to Ingrid, weeping, and becoming an awful mess right there in the kitchen.

  Ingrid kept holding her. Not shushing, not becoming uncomfortable with the tragedy of Ivy’s emotions, just holding her. As if Ivy belonged there after all.

  So she closed her eyes and let herself feel Ingrid’s embrace, breathing it in. Just breathing.

  She finally hiccuped back a breath and pulled away, pressing the dish towel to her eyes. She might even have a bit of a runny nose.

  “Sorry,” she said, removing the towel.

  Ingrid nodded, her eyes so much like Darek’s—blue, compassionate. She caught Ivy’s face in her hands, now dry, although a little cold and wrinkly. “No sorrys. You feel free to come and get a hug anytime. Or maybe I’ll just come after you with one.” She winked.

  Ivy smiled, not sure what to do with that.

  Ingrid turned back to the sink, running more hot water. Dumping in the hamburger serving platter.

  Ivy stood there, wrung out.

  “There you are.” Darek came in through the sliding-glass door. He held a jar of pickles, the bag of marshmallows. “Where’s Tiger? I wanted to show him the northern lights.”

  “The northern lights are out?” Ingrid said, grabbing a towel.

  “Isn’t he with you?” Ivy said at the same time.

  Darek froze. Then he set down the pickles, the bag.

  “I cleaned him up, and he went back out to the lake. I saw him—”

  “He didn’t come back,” Darek said.

  Ingrid set down the towel, said, “He was playing with Butterscotch. Maybe he’s with her.”

  Darek disappeared out the door. “Tiger!”

  Ivy ran after him into the yard, while Ingrid went out the front door. The air smelled thicker with smoke, but maybe that was just the campfire. In the darkness, the hover of orange flames on the far horizon seemed more ominous, as if Mordor might be just beyond the trees.

  “Maybe he’s at the cabin,” Darek said and took off down the trail.

  Casper and his sisters had come up from the fire—John also, carrying a flashlight. He handed it to Casper. “Check the other cabins.”

  “I’ll see if he’s in Butter’s doghouse,” Grace said.

  Amelia headed toward the lodge. John went around the back. Ivy could hear Tiger’s name called in the air.

  How could she have lost Darek’s son? So much for fitting into the family.

  If she ever needed fate to be on her side . . .

  Or . . . You’re not a commodity to Him. You’re His precious child whom He loves.

  Okay, if God loved her—really loved her—then . . . then He’d help her think.

  Think.

  Once, when she was about ten, she’d wandered away from her foster home, following a labyrinth of alleyways, dreaming up the families living inside the homes.

  I’m going to have an ’venture, Tiger had said.

  What was an adventure for a five-year-old? A motorcycle?

  Or maybe . . . the dozer.

  Where had Darek said he’d left it? On the old logging road around the property? She’d seen a rutted trail across the road from the parking lot when she drove in.

  In the wan light, she headed toward the lot, hoping to find John, but it was empty. Still, she spied the trail and ran toward it, feeling the ruts of freshly churned-up dirt.

  “Tiger!”

  She didn’t want to think of what might happen if they didn’t find him, if they called in search and rescue. Especially with the CPS file sitting on Jodi’s desk.

  Her career would be over. At least in Deep Haven. Worse, Darek might lose custody of his son.

  But that all paled against the reality that in these woods . . . “Tiger!” She picked up her pace, saw the dozer in the distance, a dark hulk against the darkness.

  She reached it, found her footing, and climbed up to the cab, yanking open the door. “Tiger?”

  Empty. She stared into the darkness, her heart sinking, her breath catching up to her.

  And then she heard the sniffles. She closed the door, climbed down. Listened.

  They came from the front of the dozer, near the scoop. She moved around the side. “Tiger?”

  There he sat, his hands scraped, a raw place on his skin where he’d scuffed it hard on something. She couldn’t see the full extent of his injuries, but he seemed more scared than hurt.

  Ivy crouched next to him. “Are you okay, bud? We were so worried.”

  “I fell.”

  “I see that.” She took his hands. “We’ll get you cleaned up, make it all better.”

  And then he launched himself into her arms. She held him there, rocking him. “It’s okay, buddy; we found you.”

  His body was warm, his grip iron around her neck. She gripped him back just as tightly and stood, his legs going around her. Then she hiked down the trail carefully, feeling her way along the rutted surface.

  She could hear the voices calling before she emerged from the trees, but she didn’t want to scare Tiger. So she waited until she reached the parking lot, spied John, and called, “I found him!”

  John ran over to her, Casper and his flashlight waving erratically behind him. “Where was he?”

  “At the dozer. On an adventure, right, bud?” She tried to meet Tiger’s eyes, but he had a pretty good hold on her.

  Darek came running down the path. “You found him?”

  “Ivy did,” Casper said. Grace had joined them, coming from the fire pit.

  In the distance, Ivy thought she heard a siren. But it could just be in her head, in her heart.

  Breathe, just breathe.

  Darek reached her, bent to check Tiger.

  The little boy lifted his hands. “I fell!”

  Darek was breathing hard, but he kept his voice calm. “Where did you go? Daddy was so worried.”

  Tiger leaned back in Ivy’s grip. “I went on an ’venture.”

  “Buddy, you can’t do that. You could get hurt.”

  Ivy had to admire how Darek kept his emotions, the ones playing across his face, out of his voice.

  The siren grew louder. Ivy glanced at John. That wasn’t . . .

  “Ivy followed my footsteps.” Tiger gave her a sloppy, wet grin.

  “She did, huh?” Darek said. He looked at her with so much gratitude that she had no words. “Well, Ivy knows how to find lost little boys.”

  “I wasn’t lost, Daddy. Next time, give me a map.”

  “Okay, pal,” he said and pulled Tiger into his arms. He buried his face in the boy’s
shoulder.

  Ivy pressed a hand to Darek’s back. He was trembling.

  And then the siren cut through the night, trumpeting into the parking lot with lights flashing.

  Darek whirled around. “What . . . ?”

  Amelia came bounding out of the house. “Oh, you found him!”

  Butterscotch ran up, barking. Casper made a face.

  John blew out a breath, shook his head. They all stood in tight silence as an officer got out of the cruiser.

  Beside her, Darek sighed, a sound of defeat. “Hey, Kyle.”

  “Darek. We got a 911 call about a missing child.”

  “We got him,” Amelia said. “He just wandered off—”

  Ivy didn’t know how it happened or why, just that suddenly Darek’s future—her future—rose up in front of her and the words rushed out. Fast.

  False.

  “Actually, I’m so sorry, Officer. Tiger and I were just off on an adventure, and we forgot to tell the family.”

  The officer, about her age, approached the group. Took a look at Tiger, who turned in his father’s arms. “That true, Tiger? You have an adventure?”

  Bless his heart, the little boy nodded. “Ivy and me were at the dozer!”

  Kyle laughed. “Okay. Well, Amelia made it sound like it was an emergency.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I panicked.”

  “Next time I promise to tell you if Tiger and I go for a walk,” Ivy said.

  “And you are?” Kyle asked.

  Darek touched her shoulder. “This is Ivy Madison, my girlfriend.”

  Girlfriend.

  “Okay then. I’ll call it in as a false alarm. You folks have a nice night,” Kyle said.

  No one moved as they watched him leave, his lights disappearing into the night.

  “Girlfriend?” Casper said when he turned and glanced at Darek. “Finally.” He leaned over and gave Ivy a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, Ivy League.”

  Family. She stood there as they headed back to the house, reveling in a feeling like marshmallows, hot and gooey, filling all her empty spaces.

  IVY WOULD SIMPLY SNEAK into her paralegal’s office as soon as the janitor unlocked the courthouse, under the cover of early morning shadows, and remove the file from Jodi’s desk. Certainly she hadn’t looked at it yet. Not this early on a Monday morning.