“Pretty soon. But I don’t have long,” Archer said slowly. This time was different. He had no desire to see her again. And he knew why.
Ivy.
“Well, I’m right outside your job site now. I’ll take you to lunch.”
“You’re here? Now? Why?” Archer asked, turning on the scaffold and searching the parking lot below. Yep, there was her little blue car, sitting outside the gate, although it was far enough away that he couldn’t see her. At least she couldn’t get inside the job site. He sighed. “I’ll be down in a minute.” He hung up and shoved the phone in his pocket.
“You don’t like her much, do you?” Sam asked, deceptively mild as he drilled a hole for the wire to go through.
“No.”
“Then why —?”
Archer sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”
They went to a little diner with great chili, which was perfect because the temperature had dropped over the last couple of days and he was freezing. Mary was determined not to let him get a word in, as if she knew what was coming, and she talked so fast he didn’t even try to follow the conversation.
He ate and stood up, having not one clue as to what she’d been talking about for the past fifteen minutes. He did know those fifteen minutes dragged on for at least a century. “I gotta get back to work.”
“Already? It hasn’t been even close to an hour!” Mary whined.
“Busy day,” he grunted as he dumped his tray and waited by the door. She pouted all the way to the car, but Archer was smart enough to keep his mouth shut until she got to his job site. Otherwise, what he was about to tell her would greatly increase his chances of having to walk back to work.
She put the car in park but refused to look at him. Being moody might have worked on him before, but he was tired of her games.
“Mary, I’m not gonna do this anymore.”
She froze, her hand on the gear shift. “What do you mean? I thought you liked it when I met you for lunch.”
“Not this. Not lunch. Us. We’re done.”
“What?” She exploded, her face turning a mottled red as she slammed her fist on the steering wheel.
“Your temper tantrum last night was it. I can’t handle any more. I’m done.” Archer didn’t look back. He swung the door open and got out of the car.
“Archer, wait!” she cried, pushing her door open, but he shook his head.
“It’s over, Mary,” he said without glancing back.
“You’ll be back. You always are!” she called after him, her voice thick with tears.
“Nope.” Archer pressed his lips together, shaking his head. “Not this time,” he muttered, not loud enough for her to hear. She’d get it eventually, when he didn’t call again.
****
Ivy was sitting at Jay’s kitchen table, her head bent low over her notebook as her silky brown hair tumbled down her back. Archer stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and watched her for several seconds before anyone noticed he was there. She was as beautiful as she’d ever been in high school, but there was a sadness in her big dark eyes now, and a fear that had never been there before. He wanted to know why. He wanted to erase whatever it was that caused her so much pain.
The night before — the first time he’d seen her in five years — he had been surprised at how intense that feeling of wanting to protect her was. It hit him hard again now, that need to shelter her. Unfortunately, he’d seen the way Gunner and even Jay sometimes had looked at her.
Archer was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one who wanted to get to know her a whole lot better.
“Hey, Archer. They’re boring. Come entertain me,” Gunner called from across the room, where he sat watching TV. He patted the couch and winked. Archer rolled his eyes in mock horror.
Jay leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. “How’s your truck running?” he asked. He sat between Ivy and Gigi at the kitchen table, which was covered in books and highlighters and paper.
Ivy looked up, giving him a bright smile, and his heart jumped to his throat, threatening to choke him. He had to try several times before he could get the words out. “I think the tranny needs some work.”
He still hadn’t moved from the doorway, unsure what to do with himself, which was unusual. Archer was never unsure of anything.
“Bring it in tomorrow after I get out of school. We can work on it.” Jay was a gifted mechanic and had his own shop in the backyard. Why he didn’t just do that instead of trying to be a dentist, Archer would never understand.
Ivy tilted her head at him, shoving some of her books out of the way to clear a space. “Didn’t you say you had work to do?” With a mischievous grin she patted the seat next to her, and Archer left the doorway and sank into the offered chair, spreading out his blueprints on his section of the table. Jay left his spot to look over Archer’s shoulder, and Gunner was on his other side in seconds.
Ivy snickered as she nudged Gigi. “Nothing like boys and their plans.”
“No kidding.” Gigi nodded, grabbing a highlighter and scribbling over Jay’s notes while he wasn’t looking. It was like a weird, sabotage-game they seemed to play every night. Again, Ivy was intrigued by Gigi and Jay’s strange relationship. There was nothing between them, except that there was.
They worked for over two hours, and although Archer got a lot done — with Gunner and Jay’s help — he couldn’t have told them later what they’d decided. His attention was on Ivy, who every so often would tease them about their boring car conversations or confusing blueprint codes.
****
Archer started looking for reasons for spending evenings at Jay’s house, knowing she would be there. He brought his big green truck and left it, pretending it needed work on the transmission. It was true enough, but it was just so he had an excuse to see her, and he knew it.
Toward the end of the week, she lugged her book bag out to the shop and set her homework out on Jay’s workbench, offering to keep him company while he worked.
“You’re gonna freeze,” Jay said gruffly from the doorway to the shop, watching her take over his workbench.
“Yeah, but Archer’s been out here every night by himself. That’s not fun.” She batted her eyes at Jay and then at Gunner, who had appeared behind him, materializing out of the darkness like a ghost. “You could come help him. Then we could all come in sooner.”
Archer tried not to laugh as Gunner shoved his way past Jay into the room. “Well, why didn’t you say something? I’d be happy to help.”
Ivy looked over at Archer and he winked, feeling his heart pound as her face lit up. She watched them work that night and the next, every so often yelling, “Earmuffs!” when one of them would smash a thumb or burn a finger and swear. From anyone else, it would have been obnoxious, but from Ivy, it was adorable and none of them seemed to mind.
Thursday night, as they were walking to their cars, Archer said, “If you keep doing your homework in the shop with me, I might have enough help from them,” he jerked his head back toward Jay and Gunner, who still stood in Jay’s doorway, “to finish this tranny and get my truck up and running.”
Ivy laughed, a sound that seemed to sparkle in the darkness. “I am happy to help. Oh…” Her face fell. “I can’t tomorrow though. I have to go to the football game right after school and then a Greek play tomorrow night.”
Archer bit back his disappointment. “Sounds fun,” he said instead, bumping her with his shoulder.
“Oh yeah. Tons of fun. I don’t even know anyone going to the football game. It’ll be a blast sitting by myself.” She kicked at a rock, pausing by her car.
“I’ll go.”
Her head snapped up, and she peered at him hopefully in the darkness. “Serious?”
“Sure. I love football.”
“I don’t know a thing about it. But I’m pretty sure Webber’s team is terrible.”
Archer laughed. Terrible was an understatement. They hadn’t won a game in at least two years. “Ye
ah, they have been for a while. What time?”
“It starts at three. I’ll still be up on campus because I have a project I have to finish.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there. I’ll just text you to find out where you’re at.” Reaching into her open bag, he snatched her phone from its little pocket and flipped through her contacts list, putting in his phone number and then texting himself so he had her number, too. Nice, Archer. Smooth. He was quite proud of himself. As he dropped her phone back into the pocket, she threw her arms around him.
“Thank you, Archer. You’re the best.”
He hoped she couldn’t feel his heart trying to explode through his jacket. That’d be a hard one to explain. “No problem,” he said, mortified that his voice sounded slightly strangled. He tried again, “No problem at all.”
Chapter Five
Ivy wasn’t willing to admit it out loud, but she got up earlier Friday morning and spent more time getting ready for school — which meant she had to do something with her hair besides throwing it in a ponytail.
She kept praying the day would speed up, but it seemed to be opposite day, and every prayer slowed things down even more — no matter how hard she tried to throw herself into her work. It was stupid. It wasn’t like it was a date. He’d felt sorry for her and was being a good friend, she knew that. But the thought of sitting next to him for two whole hours, just the two of them, made her pulse race. And then she would have a serious internal discussion with herself about what a lunatic she was being. It was nearing November, but a few months away from Vick was not enough to forget the terror of five long years. Or at least, it shouldn’t have been, but every time she looked at Archer, all she felt was safe and happy... and other emotions she wasn’t ready to examine yet. Maybe she’d had one too many concussions and had suffered some sort of brain trauma.
****
She made her way up the bleachers carefully, because she was notorious for slipping and falling through the benches. The stadium was pretty empty. Three o’clock had finally decided to show up, and she was a basket case. He’s not going to come. He’s not going to come. It was stuck on repeat in her stubborn little head. That was okay, she could handle a football game by herself, even if the thought made her heart sink. So when her phone vibrated in her pocket, she jumped out of her skin. She dug it out, scanning the message — and froze. It wasn’t from Archer. It was from Vick.
We need to talk.
“No. No, no, no, no, no,” she whimpered, terror nearly overwhelming her at the thought of having to talk to him again. Her stomach seemed tied in a thousand painful knots, and every breath hitched in her throat. She had never been a confrontational person, but she could do it if she had to. Except for Vick. She couldn’t stand up to Vick.
She hesitated, her fingers over her keyboard for several seconds, while she tried to figure out what to say. Finally she wrote, that’s not a good idea.
Less than a minute later, he responded, It’s about the divorce. They need more information.
Ivy frowned. Because of the restraining order and the military breathing down his neck, forcing him to behave, neither of them had gotten lawyers. They had done most of it online, which was a gazillion times cheaper and supposedly faster. They had a hearing scheduled with a judge right before Christmas — Ivy was allowed to be present via a phone call.
She bit her lip, glancing around the stadium. There wasn’t anyone near her for several feet in all directions, and no word yet from Archer. Sighing, she dialed the number.
“Hi.” His voice, as it always did, sounded arrogant and distinctly like she was bothering him, even though he had told her to call.
“What’s going on?” She tried to keep her voice steady. He thrived on her fear, fed off it, seemed to become invincible with it.
“What are you doing?” He ignored her question.
“I’m at a football game.” Her voice quivered this time. She closed her eyes, digging for strength. He can’t hurt me. He can’t hurt me.
“Where’s Desee?”
“She’s with my mom.” As if it’s any of your business. But of course, she couldn’t say that out loud, no matter how much she wanted to.
“If you aren’t going to take care of her, you shouldn’t have custody of her. My parents are down there, too, and you haven’t let them see her at all.” She’d been waiting for him to bring them into this; in fact, she was surprised he hadn’t before now. His parents thought Ivy was an unfit mother and had tried several times to get her to give Desee up — to them.
“That’s because your parents are included in the restraining order — for stating that they would take Desee away from me in any way they could.” Ivy was proud when her voice didn’t shake.
“You’re keeping Desee away to hurt them, Ivy, and everyone knows it. And you’re screwing her up while you do it.”
Ivy sucked in a breath. She tried; she wanted to be a good parent. And Desee did need grandparents... She swallowed hard. This is his trick, Ivy. This is how he manipulates you, she reminded herself.
They never fought about what needed to be dealt with. They fought about everything else he could hurt her with. She needed to get him to focus or she needed to hang up. Somehow she had to learn to protect herself. “What do you want, Vick? What’s the divorce problem?” Her voice sounded steely even to her own ears, and she sat up a little straighter.
He was silent for several seconds. “The judge isn’t sure he has jurisdiction over the case. You have to come back to Alaska.”
Ivy felt her heart turn to ice in her chest. No. She choked on a sob. “I have to… come back? But it’s winter. The Alaska Highway is closed,” she whispered. Her nerves of steel and strong voice were gone, obliterated with one sentence.
“Not my problem. You have to be living in the state with Desee for two months before the judge will claim jurisdiction.” She could picture him shrugging, picking at his nails that were always bitten to the quick, like he could care less that he was ruining her life.
Ivy squeezed her eyes shut tight, rubbing her temples where she could feel a migraine coming. Her whole body was shaking and, even in the chilled November air, she was sweating.
Suddenly, the phone was snatched out of her hand. She jerked upright, spinning toward Archer. Raising an eyebrow and giving her a wicked grin, he deliberately pushed the End button.
Ivy’s mouth opened and closed like one of those fish that clean the bottom of the tank, but she didn’t know what to say. Furious with herself, she scrubbed at the tears that soaked her cheeks. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to curl into the fetal position and sob or sink through the bleachers and die of embarrassment.
“You don’t have to talk to him, you know,” he said quietly, all the playful malice gone. He held out his hand, pulling her to her feet, and settled a thick blanket on the bench before sitting on it and patting the seat next to him. She stood there, blinking at him, her mind sluggish. “It’s warmer this way. And more comfortable. Football games are long.”
“Oh. Right. Thanks.” She gave him a wobbly smile as she sank down next to him.
He grabbed another blanket from the bench on his other side and covered them both with it. “Sorry I’m late. I had issues at work I had to deal with.”
“Oh. Oh no, it’s fine. I’m glad you made it.” Sighing, she rubbed a hand over her eyes again. “I’m a mess. Sorry.”
He smirked. “You look great…” As he trailed off she looked up at him, wondering if he was going to point out that her nose was red or her mascara was smeared all over her cheeks. It was waterproof, but sometimes that wasn’t enough. He hesitated for a second before continuing, “What’d he say that got you so upset?”
Ivy tipped her head to the side, fingering the quilt. It had little tufts of yarn in every square, and she found one to wrap around her finger. “I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”
“I want to help, Ivy. Let me help.” His voice was soft but insistent.
She glanced up
at him again, and hiccupped like a lunatic. Yep, I’ve lost it. He had such kind eyes. Pretty eyes. She was jealous of his eyelashes. They had to be at least an inch long and so thick. “He said I have to come back to Alaska for two months, or the judge won’t grant our divorce. Something about jurisdiction. And he said I shouldn’t have Desee because I’m not taking care of her.”
Archer sat back, watching her for several seconds. “I would find out about the jurisdiction on your own — don’t take him at his word. I’m sure you can call the court system up there.” Ivy nodded, sniffling, as Archer continued, “And I’ve never seen a single parent so dedicated to her child as you are.”
Ivy looked up at him, hopeful. “Do you think so?”
“Yes. Ivy, I don’t know your circumstances. I don’t know what you’re running from, but I want to help. Whatever you need.” Archer’s eyes were brown, like hers, but lighter, like they had honey in them. Honey was sweet, and maybe that was why they were so kind. To her overwhelmed and frightened brain, it felt like they were emitting some sort of magic power that calmed her frantic heart.
Once again she wondered when, exactly, she had lost her mind. Forcing a weak smile, she turned to the football game, which was already in the second quarter, and she hadn’t even realized it had started. “So. Explain this game to me. ‘Cause it isn’t making any sense at all.”
Archer smiled and winked at her. “No problem. But…” He looked at her quizzically. “Didn’t you play powder-puff in high school?”
Ivy laughed, her first real laugh all day. “Yeah, but we kind of didn’t play by the rules.”
By the end of the game, Ivy had a vague idea of how football was played, even though the she couldn’t keep the ten-thousand incredibly detailed rules straight. What she was sure of, though, was that she loved it and couldn’t wait to see more. As they walked to her car after the game, she had almost forgotten her conversation with Vick while she peppered Archer with questions.
Waiting Fate Page 5