White Ivy(46)

“There you go,” said Sylvia, leaning back in her chair with her arms on the table, like a cat stretching its limbs in a satisfied yawn. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Ivy looked up.

“You don’t think so?”

Her flustered pause brought a roguish glimmer to Sylvia’s eyes.

“You’re sweet and beaaauutiful and smart. I could tell immediately back at my house Gideon was interested in you. The way he avoided you that night!… Let me tell you a secret—Giddy’s overly cautious around people he likes. Do you sometimes get the feeling he’s keeping you at a distance?” Ivy gave a little gasp. “It’s a fear mechanism,” Sylvia said with a small smirk. “It’s also why he’s keeping you all to himself for now. It’s like you said—he doesn’t want Mom and Dad to butt in.”

“Did he s—”

“And Arabella! She just gushed about you during Ellen’s Easter lunch. Aunt Ellen’s the youngest of seven so everyone spoils her. She’s claimed the big holidays. Mom gets the leftovers: Memorial Day weekend, Labor Day. They’re the only girls of the Whitaker bunch—you wouldn’t believe how many uncles and second cousins I have—but their relationship is more like a divorced couple fighting for custody over the rest of us. We’re such a large family, and Dad’s side is big, too… don’t look so scared! Gideon’s very good at organizing all of us into a neat little diagram for when you meet everyone. I think you’ll get on with Uncle Jack. He’s very fond of interesting people, so he’ll love you.”

Ivy continued to smile and nod. Agree with everything. But the girlfriend was usually supposed to butter up the sister. The role reversal unsettled her.

Sylvia’s phone made a quiet buzz. “Excuse me—I forgot I was supposed to meet my mom today…”

Ivy looked away politely as Sylvia made her call. She took a bite of her kabocha pumpkin, which had gone cold. She could hear Mrs. Speyer’s lilting voice through the speaker; it was like listening to two wrens chitter to each other.

“So—where were we?” said Sylvia after she hung up.

“Easter brunch.”

“Right!”

They took turns sharing stories about Gideon. Every word, every laugh, every conspiratorial joke was filtered through the knowledge that everything either woman said would be conveyed by the other to Gideon… Sylvia told me… Ivy said this about you…

Halfway through dinner, Sylvia said, “Here she is,” and waved at someone at the door. Ivy turned around, paling.

Mrs. Speyer was standing in front of the hostess booth, brushing the rainwater off the lapels of her coat. As with her children, there was a distinct elegance about the way she held herself, her frame as narrow as a girl’s, the long neck supporting a head full of ash-blond hair blown out at the crown and smoothed back into a low chignon. “Why on earth are we meeting here?” she asked Sylvia when she reached their table. “The show starts in fifteen minutes.”

“Mom,” said Sylvia, “this is Ivy Lin.”

Ivy half-stood up in her seat, still holding her chopsticks dripping with curry sauce.

Two spots of pink dappled Mrs. Speyer’s almost translucent cheeks, like rose petals floating under a frozen pond. “Yes, of course! Gideon’s friend from Grove. Of course I remember you, dear. How are you?” Instead of a handshake, she leaned in and gathered Ivy to her chest, her grip surprisingly strong.

Ivy said she was well, thank you. “And how have you been—Mrs. Speyer?” Of all the possible scenarios she’d imagined her first meeting with Gideon’s mother, this chance encounter, without Gideon present, wasn’t one of them.

“Oh, please. That makes me feel so old. Call me Poppy.”

“What show are you two watching?”

“One Thousand and One Nights—it’s a beautiful production—I’ve already been twice… do you like ballet, Ivy?

“I’ve never been,” said Ivy.

“Oh, you really should go.”

They beamed in the ensuing pause, having run out of safe ground.

“We should get going,” Sylvia said finally as she extracted her wallet from her bag.

Poppy suddenly lit up. “Would you like to join us? I’m sure we can get an extra ticket.”

Ivy hesitated.

“I’m sure Ivy has better things to do,” said Sylvia, glancing at her for confirmation.

“I’m just suggesting,” said Poppy, “and, oh, isn’t it summer break now…”

“Well, let’s make up our minds soon,” Sylvia said, almost rudely, and Ivy felt this rudeness was directed at her.

She murmured she really would have loved to join but she had other plans, unfortunately. Had she been asked in advance, she surely would have accepted, but Poppy’s and Sylvia’s demeanors seemed strained, simultaneously eager and reticent, as if they were coming from an exuberant evening in which further plans felt both necessary and exhausting. The Speyers nodded in unison, their smiles the same exact shade of sympathetic regret. Just who knew what and how much?



* * *




THAT WEEKEND, OVER dinner, Ivy brought up the run-in with Poppy to test Gideon.

“Right! Yeah, she told me,” said Gideon.