Saint Ivy by Laurie Morrison

Author:Laurie Morrison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2021-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Dad’s gray sedan pulled up with Mom in the passenger seat, and Ivy got in the back seat.

The car still smelled new, even though it was a couple of years old, and it was impossibly clean, as always. No wrappers or wood chips or pennies or crumbs or any of the stuff that covered the mats on the floor of Mom’s car now, or the old family car Mom and Dad used to share.

“You talked to Ms. Ramos?” Ivy said.

There was a long pause before Mom confirmed, “We did. Yes.”

“I’m so sorry,” Ivy said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Dad merged onto the parkway and honked as a car veered in front of him.

“We’ll talk as soon as we get home,” Mom said. She reached back to squeeze Ivy’s hand. “We’ll figure everything out. Okay?”

Dad let out an exasperated groan, and Ivy couldn’t tell if it was directed at her or the traffic. She looked down at the pristine mat beneath her feet and thought back to the beginning of fifth grade, before Dad had moved out, when all four of them had gone to a Honda dealership in the suburbs to get the car Mom still drove.

Dad had done a bunch of research to choose the best family SUV, and Will and Ivy had gotten to pick the color. After they’d left the dealership, they’d picked up soft pretzels and water ice and stopped at a park, where Will had spotted a skinny brown snake. It had been such a happy, hopeful day. But that had only been a few months before Dad had left. Had he known that he was going to leave? The idea that Dad might have realized he wouldn’t actually be driving the new family car squeezed Ivy’s rib cage and made it hard to breathe.

Dad found a parking spot on the street near their house, and they all got out. A woman walked by pushing a stroller. She glanced at Mom’s belly and smiled, and Ivy realized—this woman thought Mom and Dad were still married, with their own new baby on the way. Tears filled her eyes, and she swiped them away fast.

When they got inside, Mom sat on one end of the living room couch and signaled for Ivy to sit next to her. Dad shifted from one foot to the other until Mom said, “Rob.” And he sank down into the cushion on Ivy’s other side.

“So. Talk to us, Ivy,” Mom said. “What happened with this test?”

“This isn’t like you, Ivy,” Dad added. “I know there’s a lot going on right now. But we expect you to have better judgment than this.”

Mom put a soft, warm hand on Ivy’s wrist.

“Sweetie,” she said. “Please. Help us understand.”

Ivy wanted to talk to Mom like she used to. She wanted to tell her all the things Josh had said at the soccer game, all the things the emailer had written, and all the ways she’d mixed things up.

But then Mom touched her belly, and Ivy remembered

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