shape but not become an actual body. You never know—1 might need to do something like that sometime in the future. To complete my mission, of course.'
'Of course. And projecting your voice, so that everyone at Old West Photos could hear you — I guess you needed to practice that some more, too.'
'Oh, well, that,' she said with a flick of her hand. 'I was working on your mission then.'
'My mission?'
'In my own way.' she replied. 'You and I have very different styles.'
'True. I'd never have thought of telling Will he has nice buns.'
'Terrific buns,' Lacey corrected him. 'The best I've seen in a long time. .' She looked at Tristan thoughtfully. 'Roll over.'
'No way.'
She laughed, then said, 'That chick of yours, she wears her skin like a suit of armor. I thought that if I got a little joke going, I could get her to loosen up some, to open up to Will. I thought I had a chance, since she couldn't see his eyes beneath his hat, I think it's his eyes that get to her, that make her shut down like that.'
'She sees me in them,' Tristan said.
'Some guys will do that to you,' Lacey went on. 'They've got eyes a girl can drown in.'
'She doesn't know it, but she sees me in them.'
When Lacey did not confirm this, he sat all the way up. 'Does Ivy see me looking out at her through Will's eyes?'
'No,' Lacey said. 'She sees another guy who's fallen in love with her, and it scares her to death.'
'I don't believe it!' Tristan said. 'You've got it wrong, Lacey.'
'I've got it right.'
'Will may have a crush, and she may find him sort of attractive, but—' Lacey lay back in the grass. 'Okay, okay. You're going to believe only what you want to believe, no matter what.' She stuck one arm behind her head, propping it up a little. 'Which isn't a whole lot different than the way Ivy believes — in spite of what's right in front other nose.'
'Ivy could never love anyone else,' Tristan insisted. 'I didn't know that before the accident, but I know it now. Ivy loves only me. I'm sure of that now.'
Lacey tapped him on the arm with a long nail. 'Excuse me for pointing out that you're dead now.'
Tristan pulled his knees up and rested an arm on each one. He concentrated enough to materialize his fingertips, then dropped one of his hands and ripped up pieces of grass.
'You're getting good,' Lacey observed. 'That didn't take much effort.'
He was too angry to acknowledge the compliment.
'Tristan, you're right. Ivy loves you» more than she loves anyone else. But the world goes on, and if you want her to stay alive, she can't stay in love with death. Life needs life. That's how the world goes.'
Tristan didn't reply. He watched the three leotard ladies bounce around, then plod off the stage, shining with sweat. He listened to a little girl dressed like Annie half-sing, half-scream 'Tomorrow,' over and over.
'It really doesn't matter who's right,' he said at last. 'I need Will. I can't help Ivy without him.'
Lacey nodded. 'He's just arrived. I guess he's taking a break from work — he's sitting by himself, not far from the park gate.'
'The others are over there,' Tristan said, pointing in the opposite direction.
Beth and Philip were lying on their stomachs on a big blanket, watching the performances and picking clover, weaving it into a long chain. Suzanne sat with Gregory on the same blanket, her arms wrapped around him from behind. She rested against his back, laying her chin on his shoulder. Eric had joined them, but was sitting on the grass just beyond the corner of the blanket, fidgeting with the end of it. He continually looked over the crowd, his body twitching at odd moments, his head turning to look quickly behind him.
They watched several more performances, then Ivy was introduced. Philip immediately stood up and clapped. Everyone started to laugh, including Ivy, who glanced over in his direction.
'That will help her,' Lacey said. 'It breaks the ice. I like that kid.'
Ivy began to play, not the song she was scheduled to play» but 'Moonlight Sonata,' the music she had played for Tristan one night, a night that seemed as if it had been summers and summers ago.
This is for me, Tristan thought. This is what she played for me, he wanted to tell them all, the night she turned darkness into light, the night she danced with me. Ivy's playing for me, he wanted to tell Gregory and Will.
Gregory was sitting absolutely still, unaware of Suzanne's small movements, his eyes focused on Ivy as if he were spellbound.
Will also sat still in the grass, one knee up, his arm resting casually on it. But there was nothing casual about the way he listened and the way he watched her. He was drinking up every shimmering drop.
Tristan rose to his feet and moved toward Will.
From Will's perspective Tristan watched Ivy, her strong hands, her tangle of gold hair in the lateafternoon sun, the expression on her face.
She was in a different world than he was, and he longed with his whole soul to be part of it. But she didn't know; he feared she would never know.
In the blink of an eye, Tristan matched thoughts with Will and slipped inside him. He heard Ivy's music through Will's ears now. When she had finished playing, he rose up with Will. He clapped and clapped, hands high above his head, high above Will's head. Ivy bowed and nodded, and glanced over at him.
Then she turned to the others. Suzanne, Beth, and Eric cheered. Philip jumped up and down, trying to see over the heads of the standing audience. Gregory stood still. Gregory and Ivy were the only two people in that noisy park standing motionless, silent, gazing at each other as if they had forgotten everyone else.
Will turned abruptly and walked back toward the street. Tristan slipped out of him and sank down on the grass. A few moments later he felt Lacey next to him. She didn't say anything, just sat with him, shoulder touching shoulder, like an old team member on the swim bench.
'I was wrong, Lacey,' Tristan said. 'And so were you. Ivy doesn't see me. Ivy doesn't see Will, either.'
'She sees Gregory,' Lacey said.
'Gregory,' he repeated bitterly. 'I don't know how I can save her now!'
In a way, dealing with Suzanne after the performance had been easier than Ivy expected. As planned earlier. Ivy met Philip and her friends by die park gate. Before she got a chance to greet them, Suzanne turned away.
Ivy reached out and touched her friend on the arm. 'How did you like Will's paintings?' she asked.
Suzanne acted as if she hadn't heard.
'Suzanne, Ivy was wondering what you thought of Will's paintings,' Beth said softly.
The response came slowly. 'I'm sorry, Beth, what did you just say?'
Beth glanced uneasily from Suzanne to Ivy. Eric laughed, enjoying the strain between the girls. Gregory seemed preoccupied and distant from both Suzanne and Ivy.
'We were talking about Will's paintings,' Beth prompted.
'They're great,' Suzanne said. She had her shoulder and head turned at an angle that cut Ivy out of her view.
Ivy waited for some kids with balloons to pass, then shifted her position and made another attempt to talk to Suzanne. This time she got Suzanne's back in her face. Beth stood between the two girls and began to chatter, as if words could fill up the silence and distance between them.
As soon as Beth paused for breath. Ivy said she had to go, so that she could get Philip to his friend's house on time. Perhaps Philip saw and understood more than Ivy had realized. He waited until they were a block away from the others before he said, 'Sammy just got back from camp and said not to come till after seven o'clock.'
Ivy laid her hand on his shoulder. 'I know. Thanks for not mentioning it.'
On their way to the car. Ivy stopped at a small stand and purchased two bouquets of poppies. Philip didn't ask her why she bought them or where they were going. Maybe he had figured that out, too.
As Ivy drove away from the festival she felt surprisingly lighter. She had tried hard to reassure Suzanne, to
