“Well…” I swallow, “I um… hit something with my car and wound up in a ditch and met this guy who brought me back to his place. Then, fast forward, I tried to leg it back to my car and tripped over snakes mating.”
“Are you serious? You’re joking!”
“No. Nope. Nuh uh.” I’m biting my thumbnail now.
“You met a guy Friday night. In the woods…”
Shit. Here we go. Amelia has a really good bullshit detector and she’s gonna try to add things together.
She continues, “And then you didn’t leave his place until Sunday? You just yada yada’d me through all of Saturday. Hey Mom. Yeah, it’s Ivy; she’s in one piece.”
Shit. Mom’s there. Of course she is. I called Mom’s phone, not Amelia’s. Why didn’t I think this through better? I’m pacing now. I look out the front drapes and see my car outside. Oh. What?
I unlock and open the door, then step outside and head toward it while Amelia is talking to Mom in my ear. Everything has been fixed. It’s like it didn’t even happen. This feels bizarre.
I hear Mom in the background, Amelia mumbling to my mother about me being fine and my mom is asking about a bazillion questions.
“Don’t rat me out to Mom, Ames. Tell her I’m safe and sound. There’s way more to the story but I can’t get into it right now,” I tell her, urgently.
“Hang on, Mom. So you’re good, Ivy? Recovered from the bite?”
I hear my mom sounding like she’s having a fit in the background.
“Much better.”
“Where’s your car? Do you need me to pick you up? Mom, wait…”
“It’s fine. I’m good. I’m gonna stay here for a bit and…”
“Where’s here?” That’s Mom.
“Put her on speaker,” Amelia says.
“One sec, Ivy. Don’t you hang up, young lady.”
Fuzz.
“Ivy Adeline Brennan!” Mom exclaims.
And in my head I think Savage. Ivy Adeline Savage. Whoa. Why was that the first thought that popped into my head?
And I’m on speaker phone now.
“Amelia!” I whine.
“She wrestled the phone off me,” she defends herself.
“Ivy? What’s going on? We’ve been worried sick!” Mom sounds frantic.
“I’m okay, Mom. I got bit by a rattlesnake and I’m recovering.”
“What hospital are you at? We called everywhere! Why haven’t you called me back sooner? It’s been 48 hours!”
“I told you not to worry.”
“Not to worry? Of course I’m worried. Have you met me? My daughter leaves me a message that she’s in the hospital and has been bit by a snake and then she doesn’t call me for two days. I thought you might be dead. Or worse.”
“Worse?”
What’s worse than dead?
“Kidnapped or something. Don’t give me attitude, young lady. I’ve been worried out of my mind.”
“She met some guy and she’s at his place.”
“Amelia!” I shout. Rat fink.
“Ivy!” Mom shouts.
Argh.
“What guy?” Mom asks when I don’t immediately respond.
“He met her in the woods when her car broke down,” Amelia says with a total tattletale tone.
“Where? Where are you?”
“Just outside Drowsy Hollow,” I say.
“What? What?”
“Drow–”
“I heard you.” My mother’s voice has taken on a funny tone.
“Why do you sound weird?” I ask.
There’s a beat of silence. A long one.
“Hello?” I check.
Did the call drop?
“Maybe I sound weird because my daughter has been missing. Maybe because she was bit by a venomous snake and didn’t call for two days leading me to search every hospital in a four-hour radius.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Things’ve been real weird,” I say.
“How weird?” Mom asks.
“Drowsy Hollow. That’s not far from our old house,” Amelia says.
“I know,” Mom says snarkily. “I lived there.”
“Why does your voice sound funny, Mom?” I ask.
“Yeah. You’re pale. She’s pale, Ivy,” Amelia says. “You’ve stressed her out like crazy. And me! I’ve got two stress zits and they better be gone by my bridal shower. We have a professional photographer coming.”
I roll my eyes. “Then the pro can Photoshop the zits out,” I say.
“But people will also see me, Ives…”
“So you’re fine?” Mom interrupts.
“I’m fine,” I confirm.
“When are you coming home? Do you need me to come get you?” Mom asks.
“I’m good. I’m just spending some time with Ty, the guy who… um… rescued me. Honest, I’m good.”
“He rescued you and then you legged it and got bit by a snake so that suggests something wasn’t good. Why were you legging it?” Amelia asks.
“It’s a long story,” I say.
“I bet,” she retorts snarkily. “I need you here this weekend for your last fitting. You’ll be here Saturday, four o’clock, right?”
“Of course.”
“You coming back before that?” she asks. “Are you gonna have a scar? Where were you bit? Not on your face? Shit, not on your face, Ivy!”
“My ankle, Amelia, jeez. Worried I’ll muck up your wedding pictures?”
“No. I’m worried your face got all mucked up, bitch.”
“Girls,” Mom cuts in. “Enough.”
There’s silence.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” I say. “But I have my phone. It was lost but I got it back and if you guys need me, text or call. Don’t worry. I’m fine. Can you call Dad and Leo?”