Promises: Do You Know Where the Poison Toadstools Crow?

by Lori Beasley Bradley

  Don’t go getting carried away and spend it all in one day, Iva Leigh. That’s what Granny would say if she were here to hear about this good fortune.

  Ivy drove to the bank, where she put half the money into a high-interest money market account, paid off her credit card, and raised the limit from the prepaid five hundred to five thousand. The rest she deposited into her regular savings account, less five hundred in cash that she put into her wallet for spending money.

  After getting her car washed and detailed, Ivy went to a salon and got herself detailed. She got a new haircut, fresh color, her nails done, and her brows waxed. She’d never felt so pampered in her life. She spent over two hundred dollars at the salon and didn’t feel bad about it one little bit. She deserved a little special treatment after all her hard work on her manuscripts. Writing wasn’t backbreaking, but it still amounted to work of the mental variety.

  The next day Ivy picked up her sister, and they went shopping. Carrie was thrilled for her but warned her to be careful with the money and not go crazy with her spending. When Ivy pulled into a luxury car dealership, Carrie just rolled her eyes and shook her head in resignation. When they drove out of the dealership in a sporty new electric-blue Lexus sedan that was paid for free and clear, they both wore broad smiles on their faces.

  Ivy drove the new car to Scottsdale, where they visited some high-end consignment shops Carrie knew about, and then stopped for lunch at a nice restaurant. From outside, Ivy could smell fragrant wood-smoke from a meat smoker, and her mouth began to water. Her mood darkened when she walked past Carl’s silver Lexus in the parking lot. Ivy recognized the plates. Inside the restaurant, the rooms were decorated with Southwestern furniture and art. Navajo rugs hung on the wall, and the head of an elk hung over the massive fireplace.

  The hostess seated them, and Ivy looked around the room to see Carl sitting next to Judith Merriman in a booth up the aisle from her table. She swallowed hard and tried to look away, but she could not.

  As she and Carrie were ordering, Carl finally noticed her and gave her a little nervous smile and nod. Ivy didn’t think the chattering Judith had noticed. When she and Carl stood, Ivy saw two young men had been sitting with them on the other side of the booth. They must be Judith’s two boys. They both had their mother’s blond hair and delicate features.

  Carl gave Ivy a slight nod as he walked by but did not speak. Ivy wanted to weep but kept smiling and joking with Carrie. Her phone chirped, notifying her of a text, and Ivy opened it. The text came from Carl.

  Hi baby. Will call you later.

  Ivy replied, Don’t bother. She snapped the phone off and shoved it back into her pocket.

  “Who was that? Carrie asked.

  “Nobody important. Where do you want to go after lunch?”

  “I think we should go look at apartments.” She took a bite of her salad. “You don’t like that place you’re in now. Find yourself something nicer.”

  “I’m going to stay where I am for a while. I think I might travel for a bit.”

  “You’re gonna put miles on that new car and drop the value,” Carrie warned. “You need to stay in one place until you get that last book finished. How much more do you have to go until it’s done?”

  “I’m about halfway there. The other two are thirty chapters each, and I have fifteen finished on this one.” Ivy stabbed at a piece of chicken in her spinach salad, still upset about seeing Carl with that woman and her sons. He’d avoided every effort Ivy had made to get him to meet her family, but here he was out having a cheerful lunch with Judith’s.

  “Then you’d better quit spending money until you get it finished,” Carrie chided.

  “OK, Granny, then. I guess you’re paying for lunch?” Ivy pushed the check toward her sister.

  Carrie opened it, and her eyes went wide. “Nope, you’re paying this one.” She laughed and pushed the bill back to Ivy.

  They finished their lunch and stopped at the mall, where Ivy bought some new jeans, a dressy linen suit, a new purse, and shoes. She saw Carrie eying a specific designer purse, and while Carrie wasn’t looking, Ivy picked it up along with the matching wallet. She had the cashier bag them separated from hers and handed them to Carrie when they got to the car.

  “What’s this?” Carrie asked as Ivy loaded her purchases into the back of her new car.

  “Look and see.” Ivy watched her sister’s face brighten when she saw the designer bag and wallet.

  “Iva Leigh, what did you do that for?”

  “I bought my sister a present. Lord knows she’s bought me enough over the past few years.”

  Carrie hugged her, clutching the bag in her hand. “Thanks, Sis. I love it.” She got into the car. “Now stop spending all your money until you get that next book finished.”

  “Yes, Granny.” Ivy laughed and got behind the wheel.

  She dropped Carrie off without going in and drove back toward her apartment. Her phone rang, and she answered without looking at the caller ID.

  “Hello, Ivy Chandler here.”

  “Miss Chandler, this is Norm Powell from Branson again. Have you, by chance, spoken with Mr. Anderson?” He sounded worried. “He hasn’t returned my calls, and the seller of that cabin is getting anxious. Mr. Anderson is supposed to be here next week for that closin’, but I thought if I could make the offer, we could do all of them at one time.”

  “Mr. Powell, why don’t you present that offer to the seller in my name?” Ivy said boldly. “I liked that place, and if Carl is dragging his feet on it, I’ll take it.”

  “At what price?” Powell asked.

  “One fifty, just like Mr. Anderson offered,” Ivy said curtly, knowing the realtor was hoping for a higher offer.

  “I can make the offer, Miss Chandler, but I can’t guarantee the owner will take it. The last offer was two twenty-five.”

  “Mr. Powell, you told me last week the seller was motivated and would probably take one-fifty,” Ivy said sternly. “I have cash if that helps. I can wire you earnest money if you need it before making the offer.”

  “Do you have a fax number where I can send you the proposal offer? I’d need ten percent down with the offer to go into escrow against the sales price.”

  Ivy gave him her fax number. “Can you text me the routing information so I can go by my bank and send the funds?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I most certainly can, but how long would it take you to get over to your bank? I’m just outside mine now and could wait here and fax the agreement directly to your bank.” Ivy heard him take a deep breath. “We could just take care of the whole thing right there. I’ll call the seller in the meantime and make him the offer. I should know something by the time you get to your bank.”

  “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes, Mr. Powell. I’m in my car now.” She gave him the name and address of her bank so his banker could make the necessary connections with hers. Rather than going back to her apartment, Ivy made yet another trip to her bank. It would be her third and, she hoped, the final one for the day.

  When Ivy walked into the bank, it was early afternoon but not nearly closing time. For their newest large depositor, the manager was more than happy to assist her with her business. He already had the faxed sales agreement from Mr. Powell and only needed her to sign a receipt for the funds to be released to the escrow account at Mr. Powell’s bank in Branson.

  “The seller,” Mr. Powell told her as she walked up the stairs into the bank, “is willing to take the one fifty so long as it’s a quick cash deal and we don’t have to do any inspections or surveys. He’d like to close as soon as humanly possible.”

  “Would three days from now be quick enough?” Ivy asked as she shook the bank manager’s hand.

  “What?” Powell asked in a shocked voice on the other end of the phone. “Yes, yes, of course, that would be most accommodating indeed. Can you get here in three days? Why don’t we make it four just to be on the safe side? The seller is also out of state and will have to get her
e, as well.”

  “That’s fine,” Ivy told him, “I’ll have my banker transfer the funds into your escrow account today, and I’ll see you at your office in four days at nine-thirty in the morning.”

  “You’re havin’ all the funds wired today?” he asked, shocked.

  “I’d really rather not travel with that kind of money on me. Your escrow company will hold it until closing, will it not?”

  “It most certainly will, Miss Chandler. You need not worry about improprieties on my end.”

  “Of course not, Mr. Powell. Consider it done, and I’ll see you in four days to sign the papers and pick up the keys.”

  Ivy signed and initialed the sales offer agreement, signed the release of funds from her account, and waited for the receipt from Powell’s escrow account. She drove home over two hundred thousand dollars lighter than when she’d left.

  Ivy called Carrie and asked her to please come over and tend to Cheshire again while she was out of town but skipped over the details. Ivy told her sister she was going back to Branson to finish up some business she and Carl had started there. Carrie didn’t pry, though Ivy knew she wanted to know exactly what was really going on.

  Back at home, Ivy cuddled with Cheshire then began packing for yet another trip. It would give her a chance to see what sort of mileage the new car got on the highway. Ivy packed her new jeans, some blouses, and the linen suit with matching shoes.

  She didn’t plan on staying longer than it would take to get the papers signed and the utilities connected at the cabin. This would be a quick trip, and then she would have to make plans to move everything. Ivy found the thought of living somewhere green again inviting. There would be four seasons with spring flowers, summer rainstorms, fall colors, and maybe even snow at Christmas. She would be closer to two of her children and grandchildren.

  These were things Ivy had put on the plus column when trying to make her decision about moving to the Ozarks with Carl. Now she sat planning to move without him, and it was breaking her heart.

  11

  Ivy snuggled with Cheshire, made sure his litter box was clean and his dishes full. She put down two extras of each in case her sister didn’t get over promptly.

  The sun hadn’t risen as Ivy loaded her cheap cloth suitcases into the trunk of her new luxury automobile. It had been a long time since she’d owned a brand new car, and it cheered her that this one didn’t come with payments. Calling her insurance agent the day before, Ivy had made the changes for coverage on the Lexus. She cruised up the I-17, filled with wonder and excitement. She was heading out on a new adventure and possibly the beginning of the best part of her life.

  Who knew, if these books sold well, maybe there would be other big paychecks in her future. Ivy had already started planning another book set in the Old West. She would have to do a little more research but thought she might put the story in Missouri when that state was the West. That would set it well before the Civil War.

  Ivy loved doing the research, and now that her home would be in Missouri, she would have easy access to libraries, university archives, and museums, as well as some of the old buildings in the actual towns she might feature. New projects, like new adventures, excited her.

  As Ivy transferred from the I-17 to the I-40, her phone rang. She answered it.

  “Hello, Ivy Chandler here, how may I help you?”

  “You always sound so professional, baby.” It was Carl, and Ivy very nearly disconnected her phone.

  “Hi, Carl. What’s up?” Ivy didn’t want to sound curt or unpleasant, but she found it challenging.

  “I just wanted to talk to you about at the restaurant yesterday.” Had it really only been yesterday? So much had happened it seemed to Ivy like weeks had passed since watching Carl laughing and eating with Judith Merriman and her sons.

  “What about it?” Ivy asked, wanting to pitch the phone over her shoulder into the back seat. “When did you get back into town?” Ivy wondered if he’d tell her the truth.

  “I’ve been back a little over a week. I had to come back for a conference here I’d completely forgotten about.” Well, partially true.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’ve been a little tied up with things since I got back into town.”

  “I could see that.” Ivy huffed and lowered the visor to shade her eyes from the early morning sun rising ahead of her.

  “Now, baby, you know we never had any strings on one another. We’re both free spirits and play the field. Judith is an old friend, and she’s been having some trouble with one of her boys. Their dad’s not in the picture any longer, and she thought maybe I could help. I’ve been making myself available and spending some time with her and the kids.”

  “How very thoughtful of you,” Ivy sneered.

  “So how have you been, baby? How’s it going with the writing?” he asked in a lighthearted tone, purposely ignoring hers. Ivy could tell he was eager to change the subject away from Judith Merriman.

  “Pretty good, actually, I’m half finished with book three.”

  “No news from that agent yet?” he asked sympathetically.

  “Actually, they signed me.”

  “That’s great, baby. Maybe you’ll be in the big bucks soon,” he chuckled.

  “I already am. I was out with my sister yesterday, celebrating my three-book deal at three hundred K a pop. I got the check for the first two books the day before yesterday.” It still stunned her that it had been only two days ago.

  “That’s awesome, Ivy. I’m so proud of you.” He paused, but Ivy didn’t respond. “Shall we go out and celebrate tonight? You can buy since you’re flush with cash.”

  “I can’t. I’m not home. I’m taking my new car out for a spin. I’ll be gone for a week or two, I think.”

  “Cash burning a hole in your pocket?” He chuckled.

  “I guess, but my old girl was on her last legs, and I liked your Lexus so much I bought one for myself. I’m taking it on a road trip to see how it shakes out.”

  “That’s great, baby, but be careful how you spend your money. You may need it to last.”

  “Now you sound like my sister,” Ivy huffed, irritated with him even further. “Neither of you think I have any more books in me.” Her phone beeped, letting her know she had a text coming in. “I gotta go now, Carl. I have another call coming in.”

  “OK, baby. I guess you’re in the big leagues now and in demand. Be careful, and I’ll call you later.” Carl hung up before she could say goodbye. Ivy plugged her phone into the charger. She would check her text when she stopped for fuel. It was probably her sister texting good morning.

  Ivy came to a truck stop about a hundred miles before the New Mexico border and stopped. The car wasn’t near empty, but she wasn’t familiar with this vehicle yet and didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of nowhere without any gas.

  Carl did call her later, and they talked for over an hour as she crossed New Mexico. He talked around the subject but never mentioned the Branson deal. She didn’t mention her Branson deal either.

  Powell had called Carl and left him messages. If he’d wanted to go forward on the cabin deal, he would have responded. The way Ivy saw it, Carl Anderson had lost out, and his loss was her gain.

  Maybe he planned to move Judith into one of the condos on the lake or into one of the fancier log houses they’d looked at. Judith Merriman didn’t look to Ivy to be the little country cabin type and would be a much better real estate partner than Ivy Chandler. She was probably better in the sack as well. Carl liked his women with long hair, big boobs, and long legs. Judith had all of those and a big real estate company worth millions to go along with it. Ivy Chandler, even with her newfound luck, could not compete with that. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to any longer.

  Ivy tried to push the thought of Carl and the beautiful, leggy blonde together naked in a shower out of her mind’s eye, but she found it challenging. He hadn’t mentioned her again during their conversation. When Ivy had asked him abo
ut his granddaughter’s birthday, he’d told her he’d had to miss it because of coming back to the valley for the forgotten conference.

  Ivy never mentioned seeing the photo in the paper, and neither did he. She wanted so badly to bring it up, but Ivy held her tongue, hoping Carl would come forward with the information. He didn’t, and it hurt Ivy’s feelings. It also shattered her confidence in there being any future with Carl Anderson.

  He was correct. They had no real commitment to one another. They were not exclusive, and Ivy had been out on dates with other men when Carl was traveling. She’d always been open with him about those dates, however, and had never tried to hide them from him.

  Ivy stopped for dinner at The Big Texan in Amarillo and watched some fool try to eat the seventy-two-ounce steak dinner. He couldn’t do it and ended up puking what he’d stuffed down his throat into a bucket. Ivy enjoyed her rare rib-eye with all the trimmings.

  When she finished her meal, she very nearly checked into the adjoining motel. Her day had started early, and she was tired now that her belly was full, but she decided to push on and try to get a little closer to Oklahoma City. Ivy filled the tank of the Lexus with premium fuel and made her way back onto the eastbound I-40.

  As the sun fell behind her, lightning flashed in the sky ahead. If it began to rain, Ivy would find a hotel. She did not like to drive in the dark, especially in the rain. At her last fuel stop, Ivy had purchased a James Patterson mystery audiobook. She popped in the next CD and listened to the riveting tale as she drove. About an hour west of Oklahoma City, heavy rain began to fall. Ivy pulled off the highway and checked into a Knight’s Inn.

  The room was typical highway chic, smelling musty, of stale cigarette smoke and Pine-Sol. Ivy flipped on the television in time to catch a tornado warning. She shook her head, showered, and crawled into bed. Thunder boomed and rattled the pane of the big window hidden behind the heavy blackout curtains. Ivy got up and peeked out the drapes to see rain pelting the pavement and glowing in the halogen lights around the parking lot. Ivy worried about her car, hoping there would be no hail associated with this storm. Fearing she would be rousted from her bed to be herded to a storm shelter, Ivy pulled on her long sleepshirt before crawling back between the soft, cool sheets.