Chapter 30
Ivy shot back, “What, you think I stole them?”
She directed the movers to haul the two massive boxes into the living room, already knowing her bedroom was far too cramped for maneuvering. “Just put everything together here,” she instructed. “Once it’s mostly assembled, we can move it into the room.”
Rosetta pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to steady herself before responding. “Ivy, your room is tiny, and you’re only staying for a few more days. Why bother with all this nonsense?”
Ivy gave a dry, sarcastic laugh, her gaze settling on her mother with open disappointment. “You can’t wait for me to be gone, can you? Every day it’s the same.”
“Even if you don’t move out, you’re already sick. How long do you think you can keep going?” Emma called down bluntly from the second floor, not bothering to soften her words.
Before Ivy could reply, Emma turned to the two movers and announced, “She has AIDS. Are you seriously willing to risk your lives for this job?”
“What?” The two men blanched, startled out of their routine. “AIDS? Why didn’t you say that before?”
“Sir, I’m not sick. They’re lying to you,” Ivy said, her voice steady as she tried to reassure them. Then she upped the ante: “I’ll double your pay – one thousand if you get the job done.”
The movers hesitated, caught between conflicting stories.
Emma was already on the stairs, keeping her distance from Ivy, and pressed on, “Just look at her skin—it’s covered in sores. If you don’t believe me, ask my mom.”
The movers glanced at Rosetta, who stayed silent. That was all the confirmation they needed. They recoiled, stumbling back.
“Hell no! Not for any amount of money. We’re out of here!” one of them shouted, dropping their tools in a clatter before bolting for the door as fast as they could.
Emma’s lips curled into a satisfied, triumphant smirk as she shot Ivy a look – finally, a win. So what if she’d bought all that stuff? It was just going to end up in the trash.
But she had no idea she’d just set herself up for a rude awakening.
“Edna, toss all this junk out,” Emma declared, her spirits high.
“Don’t you dare,” Ivy snapped, fixing Edna with a cold stare.
Edna gulped, stuck between the two sisters, unsure which side to take.
Saying nothing more, Ivy stepped forward, picked up the hammer from the floor, and began matching the boards to the diagram. She’d once been a “child prodigy” – how hard could it be to put together a wardrobe or a desk?
She sat cross-legged on the floor, studying the instructions, then set to work, methodically hammering and screwing the pieces into place.
Emma gave a mocking laugh. “You’re really going to do it yourself? Don’t smash your hand, genius.”
Ivy ignored her, focused on her task.
If the movers had stayed, they’d have finished in half an hour – after all, they had power drills and knew what they were doing. But with Emma having scared them off, Ivy was left to do everything by hand, which was bound to take much longer.
An hour passed, the steady thump and clatter of tools echoing through the living room.
Rosetta’s headache only grew worse. “How much longer is this going to take?”
Ivy, screwing in a bolt at a snail’s pace, glanced at the instructions. “Almost done. Should be finished before dark.”
“Before dark?” Rosetta’s voice rose in exasperation.
Emma, who had hoped to nap upstairs, was kept awake by the relentless hammering. Furious, she leaned over the banister and shouted, “You’re doing this on purpose, Ivy! Fine, take it out on me, but torturing Mom like this—how heartless can you be?”
Ivy didn’t even look up. “If you want it done faster, why don’t you come help?”
“In your dreams!”
So Ivy kept at it, sometimes fitting the wrong pieces together and having to take them apart again, muttering under her breath. By the time the sky outside started to turn dusky and both Adkins and Baillie returned from work, she was still at it, surrounded by a half-built pile of furniture and a living room full of scattered boards.