The Wishing Tree (21 page)

“And you did,” she said.

He gave a wry little laugh in response. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Well, you’ve made it look easy since I got here.”

“That’s just because you missed the past few years.” He leaned over and nudged her with his shoulder. “It was a process.”

“Is that why you’ve been so distant with me?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I just figured I better keep my distance. Don’t want to lose the ground I’ve gained.”

They were silent for a few moments. It was time to let Michael go just the way he had let her go. Not because it was the easy choice but because it was the right one. She’d
known in the bakery today what the right thing to do was. And in this moment it was clearest to her. It was time to find whatever Leah had seen that made her believe in Ivy and Elliott. She rose from her seat. “I’m sorry for all of it. For taking the coward’s way out and sending you that letter instead of facing you. I had a lot of growing up to do.”

He didn’t disagree with her, just barely nodded, his mind, she knew, revisiting the pain of that time—recalling what it felt like to open that letter, see his ring carelessly shoved in an envelope by the coward he’d once wanted to marry. Elliott wasn’t the only one seeking forgiveness so that he could move on.

She leaned down and picked up a stray shell on the floor of the gazebo, studying it instead of his face. “Think we’ve taken the curse off this place by coming here together?” She gestured at the gazebo.

He gave her a small smile as he rose to his feet. “I have to be honest, this is the first time I’ve come back here since then. I just couldn’t revisit the scene of the crime.”

She nodded. “Understandable, considering. Thanks for coming here with me.”

They fell into step, walking back to 40th Street together. He reached over and gave her shoulder a familiar squeeze, much like something he would’ve done back when they were kids, before they became a couple and friendship, pure and simple, had defined their relationship. She missed that feeling and leaned into it, and him, her head resting on his shoulder as they walked together. She felt more comfortable with him at that moment than in any other since she got to Sunset.

At that moment she heard her name being called. She popped her head up to see Elliott standing across the street, wearing his running clothes and dripping with sweat, his eyes wild with jealousy and something that resembled accusation. He jogged across the street until he was standing directly in front of them, his eyes moving from her to Michael and back again. “I guess I deserve this,” he said, breathing heavily. His face was red, his eyes bloodshot. He looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept in days. He’d lost weight too, his normally muscular frame looking gaunt. It was all she could do in that moment of seeing him again after all this time not to reach out and hug him. But she didn’t get the chance because Elliott turned and ran away, leaving her to stand on the street with Michael, the two of them watching him go.

When Michael left her on her doorstep, he looked at her for a
long moment, his kind eyes making her wish that things with him could’ve been simple. “Sorry about that back there,” she managed.

He smiled. “He loves you,” he said.

She shrugged, feeling more than a little uncomfortable talking about that with Michael. It was one thing to discuss their problems with him, it was another thing entirely to discuss the love she felt for the man who caused their breakup. “I guess,” she mumbled, her eyes on the door, her escape from the awkwardness.

“I needed to see that. To know that he loves you. And that you’re going to be just fine, Fore.”

She laughed in spite of herself, blinking back the tears at the mention of the nickname that recalled their history in a single word. “I’m glad you think so.”

He reached out and touched her nose with the tip of his finger. “And don’t worry about me. I’m going to be fine too. It’s all good.” He turned to walk away and then turned back. “Save me a dance at the wedding?”

She smiled and nodded, then slipped inside the house to call Elliott, wondering if he would take her call and surprised to find herself hoping he would. As she closed the door, her eyes fell on the wishing tree, focusing on a new tag that read simply, “I wish you a life filled with passion and adventure.” The wish could’ve been applied to her and Elliott in the beginning of their marriage, they had so believed that those two words would define them as a couple.

When they got married, Ivy saw Elliott as her fresh start, her chance to make things different from the way they’d been back home, her way to take control of her own life instead of handing it over to her mother and Michael. Their life in Asheville was completely other than her life at Sunset. She and Elliott had hiked to secret waterfalls and visited out-of-the-way apple stands, laughing as the sweet juice dripped down their arms. They’d found Appalachian craftsmen and bought unique pieces for the house they bought together, the one with the fantastic view of the mountains that she just had to have. They’d made friends who felt like family and spent holidays with those friends, ensconced in the cocoon that was their world together. She’d learned to love the smell of pines and crisp mountain air as much as the coastal scent of the air at Sunset. And though she missed dipping her toes in the Atlantic, she found that a brisk mountain stream could feel a lot like waves.

For a time she’d told herself it was enough, that Elliott
made up for her missing family. But sometimes she longed for her mom and sister, wanted to laugh with Shea with the ease she once enjoyed, united in their deliberate and relentless jokes at Margot’s expense. She wanted to answer her mother’s phone calls without her whole body tensing. She wanted to be forgiven and accepted. And in her longing and loss, she’d gradually pulled away from her husband, not keeping the promises she’d made to him on that day they danced to “All the Way” as husband and wife.

As she listened to the phone ring on Elliott’s end, she realized that all that time she only wanted what he had asked her for. She hung up the phone without leaving a message, hoping that she would get a chance to tell him what she had discovered about forgiveness since she’d been at Sunset—how forgiving meant freedom, both for the person giving it and the one receiving it. How she had withheld forgiveness because she could, because it was all she could think of to do to punish Elliott. And how wrong it was to do that when at the same time she was seeking forgiveness of her own. Maybe she could explain that that was what she was doing as she walked along with Michael, drawing from the forgiveness he had offered like a well so that she could then turn and offer it to Elliott. Maybe she could make Elliott understand what a gift Michael’s forgiveness had been. And maybe she could muster the humility it would take to own her part in their marriage coming apart.

She opened her computer and sat down in the den, not bothering to hide what she was looking for if someone walked in. Her mom and sister apparently knew all about Elliott’s tweets anyway. She wanted to ask them how they knew—if
it wasn’t Michael who told—and why they hadn’t said anything. She watched as the site loaded, thinking how strange it was that she wasn’t angry that they’d kept it a secret.

She sat back and smiled as she typed in Elliott’s handle. She read over his profile: “Hi, my name is Elliott and I’m an idiot. I plan to use this forum to explain why, in hopes that my wife will read it and forgive me.” She read through his posts, the ones that begged for her attention, the ones that recalled the days before they lost sight of each other, the ones that told her he remembered who they once were, just like she did.

Soon she would have to face what he’d done. She might even ask him some questions whose answers would be hard to hear. They would need to go to counseling, probably for a long time. But she had a man who wanted to be with her, who wanted to do the work it took for that to happen. Her husband was not acting like her dad had, and that was worth noting. He hadn’t continued the affair. Yes, he’d made a dreadful, hurtful mistake. But he was truly sorry. And, as so many of Elliott’s followers had commented, true repentance wasn’t all that common. She and Elliott, it seemed, had something. She’d felt it in the street as he’d stared at her, that broken look on his face. She found herself wanting to find out what that something was.

She hovered the mouse over the button that said “Follow,” knowing that as soon as she pressed it, he would get a notice that she had followed him. A hopeful smile spread across her face as she clicked on the button, sending a message into cyberspace that she hoped would change things between them. She had no idea where this change
would lead them, but for the first time since that day in April’s cabin, she wanted to find out.

She fell asleep right there in the den, waiting for someone to come home so she could ask them about the secret they’d kept from her—the secret about her secret. Curled up on the couch with her laptop resting on the floor beside her, she dreamed of being in the ski lift, gliding over the snowy wonderland beneath. In the dream she could see the deep blackness of a sky dotted with stars, feel the cold air entering her lungs. But when she reached for Elliott’s hand, it wasn’t there. She woke up, feeling more alone than she’d felt since she made that solitary drive to Sunset, uncertain of how her family would receive her, yet certain she couldn’t stay in Asheville with Elliott.

She heard voices nearby—a man’s and a woman’s. Still lying down, she turned to look in the direction the voices were coming from. Her mother and father were standing by the wishing tree, their heads bent toward one another. Since they hadn’t noticed she was awake, Ivy was able to observe their body language, the way they seemed … inclined toward one another. And they were smiling. She hadn’t seen her mother smile around her father in years. She thought back to the mystery of who her mother had been talking to, how Leah had seemed to know but wasn’t willing to divulge who it was. She’d been protecting her sister’s new happiness, forgiving her brother-in-law for what he’d done so many years ago.

She watched in horror as her father leaned in and began kissing her mom—and it wasn’t just a peck. She sat up
and hollered out, “Mom!” Her mother jumped backward, straight into the wishing tree, knocking it to the floor. The pot smashed, the wishing tags scattered across the floor, and the marbles rolled in all directions.

Ivy sprang from the couch and raced over to the wishing tree, gathering the broken bits of pottery into her lap. The pent-up tears from the day—no, her whole life—finally spilled as she looked down at the broken tree. One of the branches had snapped off, another was bent, and some of the tags were wrinkled too. She bent her head down, closed her eyes, and sobbed.

She felt her mother’s arms go around her and her father’s hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” she heard him whisper. She wondered which part he was sorry for—leaving her mother all those years ago, kissing her mother, keeping their newfound relationship a secret, or breaking the tree.

But he didn’t elaborate because Margot sent him away. “Let me,” Ivy heard her mother say. She looked up in time to see his back walking away, his shoulders slumped, not ramrod straight as she was used to.

“I was going to tell you when you woke up. We came here to tell you and Shea, but she wasn’t here and you were asleep,” Margot said.

“So you just decided to make out instead,” Ivy sniffled. She didn’t miss the little smile that comment triggered in her mom.
Ick
, she thought.

“It’s … complicated,” Margot said. She busied herself with gathering up the tags from the tree. Ivy felt her begin to remove the pieces of broken pottery from her lap and looked up to find her mother’s eyes seeking her own.

“Are you okay with it? I mean, your dad and I …”

“I guess so.” She was relieved to realize that her mom thought her tears were about them, not about … everything else.

Her mom held out a hand. “Let me help you up.” Ivy took her hand, then stood awkwardly. She stumbled into the kitchen and retrieved plastic grocery sacks to gather the marbles and collect the broken pieces to throw away. She walked back over to her mother, who was staring down at one of the tags, a thoughtful expression on her face.

She reached over and took it from Margot’s hand, squinting down at the familiar handwriting. It was Margot’s own handwriting, and Ivy guessed that she’d added it recently. “Even as you stand together, learn also to stand on your own,” it said.

She looked up at her mother, who smiled sheepishly. “A hard-earned lesson?” Ivy guessed.

Margot nodded, taking the tag from her hand and placing it with the other tags. “One you’re learning, being here.”

Her mother’s gaze held understanding and compassion, which gave Ivy the courage she needed to ask the next question. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew about me and Elliott?”

“Because you didn’t want me to know. And I understand that. You felt you had to protect yourself, because you were afraid of my reaction.”

“Then how did you know?”

“Leah found your Twitter account one day after you were at the bakery. She said there was a look on your face as she talked about Twitter that made her think there was something you weren’t saying. She said she just started
looking around, and eventually she found Elliott’s Twitter account. After that we all just started following him so we could try to … understand what you were facing. To explain a bit about why you were here and why you never mentioned him.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me? Why’d you sneak around behind my back?”

“Because I understood your hesitance to talk to us about what was happening. I understand the shame that comes with betrayal. And of course there were all of the things that we’ve never talked about from … before. I know you always thought that I was angry at you for marrying Elliott.” Margot resumed gathering the marbles, the sound of them hitting the plastic as she dropped them in like a heavy rain falling. “But I wasn’t—not for the reason you think, at least.”

Ivy held her breath, waiting to hear the rest of what her mother had to say.

“I had a plan for your wedding. I was going to use your dad and I being forced to be together as an opportunity to get him back. I had it all planned—the music I was going to ask the band to play, the memories I’d bring up, the fact that he’d be here again, where we had so much history together. I just knew that it would be what he needed to realize the mistake he’d made and come running back.” Margot sighed. “Back then it was all I could think about—how I could get him back. I focused on that so I didn’t have to focus on the deep sense of shame I carried.”

“And when my wedding was off, so was your chance.” Ivy understood the lost chance she’d unknowingly created
for her mom. Rational or not, it had been all she’d had to keep going.

Margot nodded. “And then I had to face the shame I’d been avoiding—that sense that I was all alone. Shea was still at college, you’d moved to Asheville to be with Elliott, and your dad was gone. It was like everything I’d lived for had shattered just like that pot.” Margot pointed at the bag holding the pieces of broken pottery.

“So how did you get past it?” she asked. Ivy could remember when Margot finally started calling her again. Things were still strained between them, but her mother had made the effort to reconnect. By then, though, it was Ivy who was angry and hurt, Ivy who resisted the efforts her mother made, calling them “too little, too late.”

“Your aunt helped. She dragged me to that crazy church of hers, told me to pray and read my Bible. It sounded so simple—too simple. But I started doing it because I couldn’t think of anything else to do. And the crazy part was, it started working. No miracle in one day, but a gradual … hope started working its way through my heart. And I started realizing I wasn’t alone like I thought. I never had been. God was right there, waiting for me to notice. And over time I let go of the fear and the shame.”

Ivy thought back to her walk right after she came back, how she’d asked God to show her she wasn’t alone. Weeks later, her mother was reminding her that she never had been. “I had to face being alone,” Margot continued, “to learn that I wasn’t alone.” Finished bagging the broken pieces of pottery, she tied a knot in the top of the bag and placed it on the table where the wishing tree had sat before.

“I can’t believe it’s ruined,” Ivy said. “All those wishes.”

Margot smiled. “The wishes are fine.” She patted Ivy’s shoulder. “I’ll show you.” She winked at her and turned back to finish bagging the marbles. “Now the lost marbles, well, I can’t make any promises about those.”

Ivy started to laugh and Margot joined in, their laughter mingling with the broken pottery, mangled wishes, and lost marbles, making a kind of crazy sense.

Ivy decided to walk to the Sunset Inn to find April and Elliott instead of calling first. She walked alone in the rosy glow of the setting sun, the wind blowing through the marsh grasses, making a silver rustling sound. She inhaled the fresh beach air and wondered how she could give all this up a second time. To be certain, a part of her soul lived at Sunset. But equally undeniable was the fact that a part of her soul also now lived in Asheville.