Sitting in Doc’s car, parked in front of Ivy’s house, the motor running, Tiff held the plank on her lap, tracing her finger along the twist of the sentences, describing for Doc her theories. The tornado took Lenore, Tiff explained, sweeping the girl into its spin, stealing her breath and leaving her deflated and tangled in a fence. “And Daisy just wanted to block it all out,” Tiff said. “She destroyed everything of Lenore’s then—took a hatchet to her playhouse, burned her clothes. And now she doesn’t remember Lenore blowing away at all. She convinced herself that Lenore is still alive somewhere.”
“Far-fetched,” Doc said.
Tiff shrugged. “We’ll see,” she said. She looked to the pink house and the bright glow of its porch light. Ivy sat by the front picture window, pretending to be so engrossed in a book that she didn’t notice Doc’s car out front. “She waited up,” Tiff said.
“Of course she did,” Doc said.
“I do feel sorry for her,” Tiff said.
“Why?” Doc said.
Tiff shrugged again. “Because I’m not really a little girl anymore, I guess,” she said. “I think she’d like it better if I was the same little girl she left.”
Doc tried to think of something supportive to say but could come up with nothing. Defending Ivy took a level of imagination he didn’t have at that late hour. He pushed in the cigarette lighter, though it hadn’t worked in years. He fiddled with the volume on the radio. “Ivy loves you,” he finally said.
Tiff held her hands to her face to cry. Throughout her childhood, Doc had cradled Tiff in his arms many times as she’d wept. He’d rocked her; he’d kissed the top of her head. But he had no idea what to do with a crying thirteen-year-old. One wrong move and he’d make things ten times worse, he feared. He reached over to pat her shoulder. It didn’t seem enough, so he squeezed her shoulder too.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I guess I’m just a little homesick already.”
Doc didn’t tell her that he was pleased to hear it, but he did smile one of those sympathetic smiles that look like a flinch—his face squeezed into a little grimace, and he nodded.
“We’re always just down the street,” Doc told her.
“For now,” Tiff said. “I’m afraid Great-Granny’s going to die someday soon.”
“Your great-granny’s going to outlive us all,” he said. “She’s already outlived two husbands. A son. A daughter-in-law. She’s clearly cursed. You should be afraid to be around her.” Tiff sniffled out a laugh, probably just to be polite. “And the way you went storming into Daisy’s with that plank, you’re lucky to be alive. Those Lenorians might be packing heat.”
“I thought Daisy would be excited to see it,” she said. “But she wouldn’t even look at it.”
“We shouldn’t have taken it from the tree,” Doc said. “We’ve kind of disturbed evidence.”
Tiff nodded, then hugged the plank to her chest. “I’m going to take some pictures of it and e-mail them to you,” she said.
“Wait till morning,” he said. “You need to eat some of that cake your mom bought for you.”
“No need to worry about us, Uncle Doc,” Tiff said. She patted his hand and then opened the car door. Doc wasn’t sure what us she meant. Him and her? Her and Ivy? Who didn’t she think he should worry about?