Icing Ivy Read Free Page B

could Adam object if Jane shared her room with Ivy? “I guess it would be all right. . . .”
    â€œYou don’t sound very sure.”
    â€œYes, I’m sure,” Jane said kindly. “I’d love to have you with me at the retreat.”
    â€œYou and me and Cheese Curls. When should I come out to your house?”
    The next day was Saturday. “Why not tomorrow? Then we can have the weekend to catch up, and Monday night is Christmas Eve.”
    â€œPerfect. Oh, Jane,” Ivy said, tears coming into her voice, “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you. I’m glad we’re not letting what happened ruin our friendship. You’re my oldest friend—my best friend.”
    Still feeling uneasy, Jane averred that she was glad, too. Then they made plans. Ivy, who had no car, would take a Lakeland bus the next morning from New York City’s Port Authority Bus Terminal to Shady Hills. Jane would be waiting for her bus.

Chapter Three
    F lorence entered the dining room bearing a platter of fish fillets covered with a rich brown sauce. Steam rose from the platter.
    â€œThat looks wonderful, Florence,” Ivy said, craning her neck as Florence set it down.
    Florence beamed. “Thank you. It is my very favorite recipe, from my mother—curried cascadura. I do hope you all like it. When I was growing up, we always had it on Christmas Eve—and many other times too. I had to go to my Afro-Caribbean market in Newark for the fish.”
    Ivy frowned. “Why’d you have to go all the way to Newark?”
    â€œBecause that is the only store that imports cascadura, or cascadoo as we call it back home. This fish is found only in Trinidad.” Florence gazed across the dining room, a dreamy look in her eyes. “In my country they say,

    Those who eat the cascadura will,
The native legend says,
Wheresoever they may wander,
End in Trinidad their days.”

    Jane, her gazed fixed on Florence, said, “Why, that’s lovely.”
    Nick, seated to Ivy’s right, was gently petting Winky, who sat on the empty chair beside him. He stroked the cat’s mottled orange-and-brown head but was careful not to touch her enlarged belly. “I’ve eaten this a zillion times,” he declared nonchalantly, and Jane and Florence exchanged a smile.
    â€œIndeed you have, little mister, indeed you have.” Florence went back to the kitchen for platters of rice and green beans, which she set down on the table. Then she took up serving utensils. “If you’ll pass me your plate,” she said, reaching toward Ivy.
    The telephone rang.
    â€œLet it ring,” Jane said breezily. “We’re having dinner.”
    Ivy drew in a little breath and looked around anxiously.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Ivy?” Jane asked.
    The phone continued to ring.
    â€œNothing,” Ivy replied, moving restlessly in her chair. “It’s just that . . . maybe it’s Johnny.”
    â€œOf course,” Jane said. “Where is my head?” She jumped up, hurried into the kitchen, and grabbed the phone.
    It was indeed Johnny. “Umm, yeah, is this, uh, Joan?”
    â€œIt’s Jane,” she replied, feeling uncomfortable.
    â€œRight, Jane. Sorry. How’s it goin’?”
    â€œFine, Johnny, and you? Ivy said you’re away on business?”
    â€œWell, I was—I mean, I was going to be.” He sounded as if he didn’t want to discuss this with her. “Is Ivy there?”
    â€œCertainly. One moment.”
    Jane called Ivy, who hurried in. “Thanks, hon,” Ivy said, and waited, apparently not wanting to begin her conversation until Jane had left the kitchen. Jane did and was aware of the door being closed quietly behind her.
    Ivy and Johnny’s conversation didn’t last long. Florence was still serving when Ivy returned to the dining room, an odd, preoccupied look on her face.
    â€œEverything