Page 196 of Burning Ember

As we get closer to the door, I push them both out of it and then shut it a little to at least give Ivy the sense that we’re alone.

I turn around and see that Ivy, if it’s even her, hasn’t moved from the doorway. But after a minute or so passes, she does ask, “What do you want? Your stuff?”

It’s her.

“That would be nice, but that’s not why I came looking for you. I owe you money.”

Again I’m met by silence.

“You said if I won the lottery, to repay the favor. I didn’t win the lottery, but I can pay you back. And I wanted to say thank you for helping me out when you did.”

“It was just five bucks, Red, not a kidney.”

Inwardly, I smile, remembering now her sassy personality. I didn’t realize I could miss something I didn’t necessarily like to begin with.

“Yeah, but that five bucks put me straight on the path to a better life. A good life. I met a good man and some good people. I have a home now, and a family. I have my daughter back and a baby on the way.”

More thick silence, and then she replies, “That’s real good, Red. I’m happy for you. Really. But I was just kiddin’ around when I told you to pay me back. I only said that to make you feel better about takin’ the money.”

“I know. It doesn’t change the fact that I can and want to pay you back, though.”

If I’m not mistaken, she disappears from the doorway. My heart falls and the hope filling me dwindles away. Even my shoulders lower in defeat as I exhale. But then I hear rustling. I startle as something hits the floor and slides across it. “It’s your bag,” she says. “Leave the money on the floor, if it means that much to you. I’ll get it later.”

She turns again.

“Wait!”

“What, Red? I’m growing old standin’ here.”

“I can help you. I can offer a whole lot more than five dollars.” Chancing it, I take a couple of steps forward until I see her back up a step. “My friend owns a bar and really needs a table busser. She also needs a sitter for her kids. I told her about you and she’s willing to give you a shot. My boyfriend and his friends own some businesses. If you don’t want to work for my friend, he said he’d find you another job that pays a decent wage. We also have an apartment above our garage and it’s yours—”

“People don’t help people out of the kindness of their hearts anymore, Red.”

“Not true. You helped me.”

“Not out of kindness. More out of guilt.”

“Does it matter? I still owe you. I’m offering you a chance to get yourself off the street for a little while. Maybe longer.”

“What makes you think I need your help?”

“Look where you are, Ivy? This building isn’t safe. You’re too young . . .” My voice trails off as she disappears.

I figured this would happen. I didn’t know what other way to offer her help, though. I know from our interaction at the shelter that she’s lived a hard life at such a young age, and that she doesn’t trust people in general.

“Ivy, your dad was right. It really doesn’t rain all the time. But I think . . . I think sometimes you have to accept help from other people when you really need it. I have a friend that did that for me, and I’d like to do the same for you.

“I don’t need a mother.”

“Good, because I have my hands full as it is. I could be a friend though, if you’ll let me.”

“And what about those bikers? The ones you came in with? Are you telling me there’s no strings attached to the help they’re givin’?”

“My boyfriend and his friend? No. No strings. They want to help you too, because you helped me. They won’t hurt you.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe you?”

“No, but if you’ll give us a chance, we’ll prove that what I’m saying is the truth.” I move closer and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. As I turn and head toward the door, I say, “I’ll wait outside for ten minutes and let you decide. If you don’t come out by then, we’ll take off.”