Page 14 of Salvation (Rising From the Ashes #3)

Ivy

A woman answered when I called the number on the flyer, and when I told her I was still at the coffee shop, she asked if I could stay for a little while. Since I have no other plans—and I’m avoiding going back to the house—I said yes.

With my coffee and pastry in hand, I take a seat beside one of the windows at the front so I can watch the world outside.

People pass by in groups, laughing and smiling at each other as they talk, and I sit and watch from a distance.

It’s fitting, I guess, since that’s what I’ve done most of my life—sat on the outside and watched.

Soon enough, the coffee shop’s door opens with a little chime, and a tall, blonde-haired woman walks through.

Her pant suit and blazer are light pink, adding femininity to the confident set of her shoulders as she surveys the shop and takes in the people around her.

Several people say hello to her, and she smiles back at them, saying something I can’t hear.

I continue to watch her as she greets a few more people, and then she turns toward me, walking my way with long strides.

“Ivy?” she asks, cocking a brow once she’s close enough. I can’t get a good read on her. Her voice is cool—almost icy—but her smile is warm.

Standing, I stick out my hand to shake hers, keeping a polite smile on my face as I say, “I am.”

The woman’s smile grows wider, melting away any lingering iciness in her demeanor.

“I thought so. You’re about the only person here I don’t know. I figured the chances were high. I’m Lily, by the way.” She takes my hand with a firm grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I say. Gesturing to the booth I’d been occupying, I ask, “Would you like to sit?”

“Absolutely. Let me just place my order.”

She takes off in the direction of the counter, and I sit back down, nerves suddenly taking over my stomach.

It’s silly for me to be nervous. I have paintings hanging in museums, yet this painting for the community center feels bigger than all of them.

I can’t explain it, but I want to do it.

Maybe it’s because it actually feels important, and at some point, the others started to feel like checking off a box that I was supposed to in order to be “successful.”

In no time, Lily comes back with a coffee in hand and slides into the booth.

“So, Ivy, I hope you don’t mind, but after speaking on the phone, I looked up some of your work. It was all amazing.”

A blush heats my cheeks. My work has been praised by reviewers worldwide, yet this one compliment from a woman I met only moments ago feels more sincere than any of those reviews. Maybe it’s because she actually meets my eyes when she says it.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

Lily takes a sip of her coffee before setting the cup down on the table.

“So,” she says, a professional mask slipping onto her face. “Before we talk about the project. Tell me a little about yourself. I hear you are originally from here.”

I try not to squirm in my seat. I knew this would be a topic of discussion.

Lily made it clear on the phone that they are looking for someone with ties to Benton Falls to complete the painting, and while I haven’t lived here in a long time, it’s the only place I can ever remember being happy.

I just didn’t expect my skin to feel so tight.

My past here is more complicated than even I knew.

Forcing a smile, I say, “I did—until I was sixteen. We moved after that, but I always loved it here.”

“What was your favorite part about living here?”

The question makes me want to laugh—or maybe cry—because I can’t tell her it’s the boy with blue eyes and a smile that used to feel like home, so instead I say, “The people.”

She studies me a moment—like she can hear the lie on my lips—but thankfully, she doesn’t push it.

“Yeah. The people are pretty special.”

There’s a glimmer in her eye that makes me wonder what rumors she’s heard about me, but to her credit, she doesn’t bring them up.

“So, Ivy, as I mentioned on the phone, we are looking for someone to paint a mural on the side of the new community building that represents the people of Benton Falls. Is that something you feel like you can do?”

I take a deep breath and blow it out, already having my answer ready even though it reveals a lot more about me than I’m usually willing to give.

“When I was younger, before I came to live in Benton Falls, my mom used to tell me stories about this place. She made it sound magical, but it’s the people I remember her talking about the most—how some made it feel like home.

For a small part of my life, there were people here who did that for me, too.

I don’t really have that anymore, but it’s still a feeling I would love to capture in paint.

So, to answer your question—yeah, I think it’s something I can do. ”

The corner of Lily’s mouth tilts up into a smile. “Good answer because I think so, too.”

______________________

After my meeting with Lily, I decide to walk through town, anything to avoid going back home. Benton Falls has grown since my last visit, with several new shops added around the square. It’s no tourist town by any means, but it’s growing.

I’m window shopping, meandering down the sidewalk in my own world, when I hear my name called.

Spinning, I find Charles running across the street, a briefcase in his hand and a smile on his face.

A sign outside reads Benton Falls Christian Church, and I have the sudden urge to run.

Instead, I paste on a polite smile and wait for him to catch up.

Now that I’ve had time to process that he is my grandmother’s brother, I notice several more similarities this time than I did the last. The same fullness to their lips.

The same downward tilt of their eyes. The same slope of their nose.

And while I understand that Charles is not my grandmother, after everything I’ve learned, I can’t help but be wary.

Charles reaches the other side of the street with surprising agility for a man his age and smiles down at me.

“Ivy, how are you, dear?” The question is casual enough, but the way his brown eyes bore into me, pinning me in place, makes it more. He’s looking for cracks, and there’s a lot for him to find.

“I’m fine,” I lie, then quickly change the subject. “I didn’t realize you were still in town.”

The ability to deflect is a lesson I learned from a young age. Most people never realize I’m doing it, too concerned with their own lives to care that I don’t talk about mine, but Charles is staring at me like he knows what I’m doing and he’s not going to let me get away with it.

“Ivy, I might be old, but I am not blind—at least not yet. I’ve spent a lot of time studying people over the years, my dear, and you are not fine. Would this have anything to do with the envelope I delivered to you from my sister?”

My body stiffens. I don’t want to talk about that.

I don’t know Charles. He might be family, but in my experience, family comes with the worst betrayal.

Charles says he didn’t have a relationship with my grandmother—and that may be true—but I’ve been lied to so many times, I don’t know if I can trust him.

“Really, Charles,” I say with a wooden smile. “I’m fine.”

My voice leaves no room for argument, and to my surprise, Charles doesn’t push. He chuckles, and I grimace.

“An old man can take a hint, Ivy. I’ll leave you be, but I live in the next town over.

I will be in and out of Benton Falls for a little bit because I’m working on an estate that involves the church.

They’ve invited me to attend services, and I’d love it if you’d join me.

You’re family, and family should know one another. ”

I might have believed that once upon a time, but not anymore. And I’ve had my fill of sitting in a church where the people claimed to love everyone, all while the biggest liars sat beside me every Sunday. It won’t be a place I visit again.

“Maybe another time,” I lie again, even as a sense of loneliness tugs at my chest, but I’d rather be lonely than broken.