Evercrossed

?What?s your name?? she asked. ?My memory problem must be contagious/? he replied. ?How would I know??

?You said you didn?t remember how you ended up hurt. You didn?t tell me what you do remember.? His smile was more of a smirk. ?The hospital staff calls me ?Guy.? ?Guy Unknown? is what they?ve entered in the computer, which, I guess, is one step better than John Doe.?

?What should I call you??

?What would you normally call someone who pushes you against the wall and demands your keys? Something stronger than jerk, I think.? Then he stood up and descended the steps, stopping one step lower than hers, as if he had remembered that she had wanted to look him straight in the eye. ?I have to get out of here. If s the one thing I know, the only thing I?m sure of.?

His dark blue eyes pleaded with her, and Ivy had to pull her eyes away to think clearly. ?You?re going to have a hard time getting past a security guard in that bathrobe.?

He tugged at the hem. ?Andy lent it to me so I wouldn?t walk the halls and moon people.? Ivy laughed. ?Okay,? she said, making up her mind. ?Take it off.?

?What??

?Take off the robe,? she told him, then tried not to stare at the power in his upper body or the bruises that colored it. ?Now turn around. Face away from me.?

?Why??

?We?re trading.? When he had turned, she removed her oversize shirt and draped it over his shoulder. ?Ready,? she said, after putting on the robe.

He turned back, wearing her shirt, grinning at her. She had been right: lit with a smile, his face was the kind to break a girl?s heart.

?It’ll do,? she said. The words Stonehill High stretched across his chest and the shoulder seams were pulled tight, but he was less conspicuous in that than in the short robe.

?If there?s no security guard, we?ll just walk across the lobby like we?re doing nothing wrong,? Ivy instructed him. ?If we get stopped, I?m the patient and you?re the person who has come to pick me up. We tell them that we got tired of waiting for Transportation to bring us a wheelchair — they make you leave in one.? ?Right.?

Ivy reached in her purse for the rental key. She wondered what Beth and Will would say if she told them about this. Then she wondered if her auto insurance covered carjacking.

?So if someone asks, am I your boyfriend??

?Brother,? Ivy answered quickly. Guy smiled, as if amused by her answer, then started down the steps. He pushed open the door on the ground level and strode confidently into the lobby. He seemed so at ease. Ivy wondered how much experience he?d had at faking it.

They were halfway across the lobby when someone stopped them.

?Miss, do you need assistance?? As friendly as the voice had sounded, when Ivy turned around, she saw that the security guard was carefully assessing her and Guy. ?No, not at all.? 'Are you a patient?? ?I was.? Ivy answered truthfully. ?Do you have discharge papers?? ?Of course.? She opened her purse and pulled them out, glad that she had written the hospital directions and her appointment time on her discharge papers. She hoped the guard wouldn?t notice the date.

Recognizing the forms, the guard waved aside the papers. To Guy he said, ?She should have a wheelchair, and you need to bring the car to the curb to pick her up. Hospital policy.?

?Okay,? Guy replied. ?Stay here, Isabel.? Isabel? She tried not to laugh. He fetched a wheelchair that had been left by the elevator. As Ivy sat down, the guard received a call on his radio. ?What?s the patient?s description?? the guard asked. ?Tall, sandy?colored hair—“

?Hang on, Izzy!?

Guy pushed the chair toward the front door so fast Ivy thought they were going to crash into the plate glass. ?Whoa!? she cried as the glass slid back just in time and they shot through the opening. They flew past another occupied chair, across the concrete plaza, and onto the asphalt. ?Wait, wait!? Ivy cried.

?Can?t wait. Which way?? Guy shouted back. She pointed. He ran and pushed like a madman, dodging between two pars, then hanging a left, making her shut her eyes and cling to the chair arms.

?Slow down, you crazy thing!? But she was laughing now and he was, too, as they flew past a long row of cars to the end of the lot.

?The white cap she yelled. ?Brake! Brake!? He did — and nearly dumped her onto the trunk of the VW. Breathless, leaping from the chair. Ivy unlocked the car with two clicks. Slipping into the driver?s seat, she tossed her release papers and purse in the back. Guy left the wheelchair on a patch of grass and hopped into the car.

They drove away, laughing, the windows down and the wind in their hair.

Nine

?ISABEL?? IVY SAID WHEN THEY HAD STOPPED FOR A traffic light. ?Is that what I look like to you??

Guy peeked sideways at her. ?It seemed like a good name for a sister.?

Ivy drove on. Common sense would dictate that she take Route 28, a road with lots of beach traffic and people around, in case he wasn?t trustworthy. Instead, succumbing to instinct — or insanity — she chose Route 6, a highway that ran the spine of Cape Cod and would quickly put distance between them and the hospital.

?So, what?s your name?? he asked. ?Ivy.?

?Ivy. Izzy — I wasn?t too far off. But Ivy is better for a girlfriend.?

She didn?t reply, telling herself that he wasn?t flirting, and more important, that she didn?t want him to. ?Where are we going. Ivy?? ?I haven?t decided. It looks as if Andy cleaned you up pretty well.?

?Are you saying I looked raunchy?? he replied, then his demeanor softened. ?I don?t know what I would have done without Andy.? Ivy sighed. ?I feel so guilty!

“I hope we don?t get him in trouble.”

There was a long silence. ?Well, nothing we can do about it now,? she said, glancing toward Guy. ?Those Nikes have seen better days.?

He lifted one foot and pulled back the shoe’s rubber sole, grinning at her.

?I?m taking the Dennis exit. We?re getting you new shoes and a shirt.?

?We are? Are you any good at shoplifting?? he asked. ?I?m buying,? she replied.

?No,? he said quickly. ?Yes,? she insisted. ?Ivy, no. I don?t want you to do anything more for me.? Was this some kind of pride thing? she wondered. ?What are you going to do about it?? she asked aloud. ?Open the car door and get out? I?m going sixty.?

?Seventy,? he corrected. She glanced at the speedometer and slowed down.

Another long silence followed. She knew what he needed — his family, friends, and memories — but all she had to offer were things that money could buy.

?Do you remember anything?? she asked. ?Like whether you live on Cape Cod or were just visiting??

?I live here.? His initial moment of hesitation tipped her off. ?I see. That’ s why you thought Providence was the next town over, rather than the capital of Rhode Island.”

Guy took a deep breath and let it out, as if she were trying his patience. ?It?s like this. Some things — names, a person, an object, even a smell— seem familiar, but I don?t know how or why. As soon as I try to focus on what seems familiar, it slips away.? ?That?s hard.? She heard Guy turn in his seat and was aware of him studying her; she kept her eyes on the road. ?Was it like that for you?? he asked.

?Yes — and no. I couldn?t recall the crash, but I knew who I was when I woke up.

And I knew what I had lost.?

?Which was?? he asked. She didn?t answer. ?Here?s our exit.” Ivy drove a half mile along a two?lane road bordered by a mix of deciduous trees and scrub pine, then turned into a lot serving a small strip of stores, where she and her mother had stopped a few days before. Between the shops of Wicker & Wood and Everything Cranberry was a store that sold sportswear. Ivy parked at the sandy edge of the lot, where the trees provided shade. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, she turned to Guy. ?What do you think you?ll need to get by for a while? ?