Faith, Hope, and Ivy June by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor Page B

herself that evening, and was pleased at her progress.
    “I think I just need to move around a little more to get my strength up,” she said as she placed the apple cobbler on the table and let each person scoop his own ice cream. Out in the kitchen, Flora kept the TV on low as she put things away, and the rain drummed steadily on the roof and against the windows.
    Peter and Claire were arguing over which of them had taken the bigger scoop and whether there was enough left for the others.
    Mr. Combs grinned wearily at Ivy June. “Do your brothers argue this much?”
    She smiled. “Ezra and Howard go at it sometimes, and Daddy has to take a switch to them,” she said.
    There were wide-eyed stares from Peter and Claire.
    “He hits them?” asked Claire.
    “He switches them a couple times on the legs and backside,” said Ivy June, taking the ice cream scoop, which Claire was handing her.
    Peter let a trickle of his dessert run down his chin. “He could go to jail!” he declared.
    Ivy June looked amused. “Then probably every last dad in Thunder Creek would be there with him.”
    “Peter, in some parts of the country that’s considered appropriate,” said his dad.
    “Danny, he’s the youngest,” Ivy June went on. “He’s got it easier, because he sees what gets the older ones in trouble before he tries it. As Daddy says, ‘Danny learns on somebody else’s behind.’”
    Catherine and her parents laughed while Peter and Claire tried to figure out the joke. Then Catherine said, “Probably whatever way you were raised feels right to you.”
    “That’s a good observation, Catherine,” said her dad. “I never spanked you kids because my dad never spanked me, and who knows how far back that goes?”
    Ivy June tried to remember if anyone in her family had ever said to her, “That’s an interesting observation.” Or “Interesting thought.” “Interesting argument,” even. Did anyone offer praise for anything at all? Not much, she concluded. Doing or saying something intelligent was supposed to be its own reward.
    There was a sudden exclamation from the kitchen.
    “Oh, Lord!” came Flora’s voice.
    Everyone turned toward the doorway. All they could hear were the indecipherable voices on television.
    “What is it, Flora?” Mrs. Combs called.
    “Down near Harlan,” Flora said, coming to the door-way. “Three men are trapped….”
    Ivy June jerked around, her face suddenly pale.
    “Where?” she asked hoarsely. “A coal mine?”
    “No, a highway crash with a tractor trailer. A trucker was injured, and a car with Illinois license plates went into the river. They’ve got a rescue helicopter down there now.”
    Peter and Claire jumped up and ran to the kitchen to watch, but Ivy June sank back in her chair, the racing in her heart beginning to slow.
    Mrs. Combs shook her head. “Whenever there’s rain, the roads are slick, and travelers from up north aren’t used to our winding roads….” She focused on Ivy June. “You were afraid it was a coal mine accident, Ivy June?”
    Color returning to her cheeks, Ivy June said, “My grandfather works in a coal mine.”
    “No wonder you were frightened!” Mr. Combs said.
    Now the whole family was watching her. Peter and Claire returned from the kitchen during a commercial.
    “He’s going to retire in July, though,” Ivy June continued. “I sure will be glad when that happens.”
    “I didn’t know your grandfather was a miner,” said Catherine.
    “Guess they left all the asking and telling up to us,” Ivy June said, and wanting to deflect the attention from herself, added, “I don’t know what kind of work your grandpa does either.”
    Mr. Combs smiled. “Well, Catherine’s grandfather used to run a printing company. A very old company, actually. Combs Printing and Engraving. My great-grandfather founded it, and now it’s been handed down to me. To tell the truth, I really wanted to be a commercial pilot, but … it’s in the family, and