by Mary Carter
“I’ve called you numerous times. You don’t always answer.”
“Are you referring to the call where you said, ‘I know,’ and hung up?”
“Oh, we talked after that. Selective memory, as usual. Shall I remind you what we were fighting about?” Before Gretchen could respond, Ava exited the kitchen and went to the bookshelf in the living room. She pulled out the picture of her father’s headstone and handed it to her mother. Gretchen sipped her tea and barely glanced at it. “Queenie said she stayed on for days. Even missed a matinée performance trying to see me.”
“What kind of a name is Queenie?” Diana said.
“It’s a nickname,” Ava said. “He’s a drag queen.”
“Fascinating,” Diana said. “And he doesn’t drink coffee?”
“You’re in London,” Ava said. “Drink tea.”
“You’ve run out of your Xanax, haven’t you?”
“That depends,” Ava said. “Do you have any on you?” Gretchen reached underneath her seat where her purse was stashed. She reached into it and removed a stack of papers. “I think you should at least look at Hillary’s offer. It’s more money than either of us have ever made in our lives.” Ava grabbed the papers and took them straight to the stove. She turned on the gas, touched the edges of the papers to the flame, and held them over the sink as they burned.
“Ava,” her mother said. “Stop that.”
“Interesting,” Diana said.
“I am never selling my flat to that woman,” Ava said. “Did you know that Jasper used to date Hillary? She dumped him. Then I came along, and guess what? He fell for me. Me. Now she’s jealous and it’s the only reason why she wants me to lose this flat. What she really wants is for me to be out of Jasper’s life for good.”
Gretchen went to the living room window and looked out. “Is that where the terrorist lives?”
“I’m going to kill her,” Ava said.
“Now those people drink coffee, I bet,” Diana said, joining Gretchen at the window.
“Deven is not a terrorist.” Vic never did answer Ava’s question about the lucky charm. That wench had it. Ava just knew it.
“This is a terrible city,” Gretchen said. “You don’t belong here.”
“This is an amazing city,” Ava said. “I belong here more than I’ve ever belonged anywhere.”
“Ava, don’t make us do this,” her mother said.
“Make you do what?”
“We can go to a judge. Tell him you’re not well. Certainly not capable of completing that list or deciding whether or not to sell this flat.”
“How dare you. You know there’s nothing wrong with my intelligence.”
“Then start using it, Ava. Sell this place, take the money, and run.”
“I’m staying.”
“You’ve always been impulsive. I knew you would do this.” She turned to Diana. “Didn’t I tell you she would do this?”
“Did you also know I would fall in love? Go down the block? Go to the market? A nightclub? An English pub?” Hide in the closet of Buckingham Palace? Take E at the club? Put a rubbish bag over my head in front of a busful of schoolchildren? Watch a British porno? They didn’t need to know everything.
“I want to see your prescription bottle of Xanax,” Diana said.
That wasn’t good news. She’d see it was empty. “Why?”
“I want to make sure you’re not overdosing.”
“Because I’m finally making progress? You two are unbelievable.”
“We’re only trying to help.”
“No, you’re pushing your own agendas. And what is with the turtlenecks? Why don’t you wear anything else?”
Diana’s hand flew up to her neck as if to make sure it was still there. “I need to present a neutral palette to my clients.”
“Most of your clients are wondering exactly how many turtlenecks you own, and whether or not you change your clothes at all.”
“Interesting,” Diana said.
“I think you’re overusing that word,” Ava said.
“Ava Wilder,” Gretchen said. “Apologize at once.”
“I have fifteen turtlenecks,” Diana said. “I wash them on Wednesdays.”
“Ava, I’m taking you home, and that’s that. If you don’t want to sell this flat to Hillary, then just leave it to the queen and we’ll be on our way.”
“That’s not your decision to make,” Ava said.
“You don’t know Beverly Wilder. She was a manipulative woman. She ruined our lives.”
“How, Mother? How did she ruin our lives?”
“We’ve been over this.”
“Actually, we haven’t. I want to know why you two hated each other so much. Because it makes me sad. And it made Daddy sad.”
“It wasn’t my fault. That woman hated my guts. I never asked him to choose, but she did. And he chose me. She never got over it.”
“I’m sorry. But I was just a child. And I had a right to know my father’s sister.”
“She wanted to take over. Once Bertrand died I thought she’d show me some kindness. She was worse.”
“Worse, how?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“Stop sheltering me!”
“She was going to kidnap you. All right? Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“What do you mean?”
“She wanted custody of you. Said a change of atmosphere would snap you out of it. That’s why I didn’t let her near you. And I would do it again. I don’t care what her little London friends say. She was not a nice woman.” Gretchen moved restlessly about the flat. She grabbed the nearest picture off the wall.
“Mom,” Ava said.
“Her, her, her, her, HER.” Gretchen threw the picture to the floor. It landed on the throw rug. A crack formed in the center. Ava dropped to her knees and grabbed the picture. “Stop it. This isn’t yours.” Ava lunged at the wall and began removing Beverly’s posters. She would put them back later; she didn’t want to see another one cracked. Her mother grabbed another one. Cats. Ava lunged for it and grabbed the other end. They tugged back and forth.
“Let it go,” Ava said. “It’s not yours.”
“Where are all the pictures of you, and Bertrand? If she loved you so much?”
Gretchen let go of the poster, and Ava stumbled back. Gretchen collapsed onto the divan. Diana watched from the corner of the room, playing with her turtleneck.
Ava went to the side cabinet and withdrew the envelope. “They’re here.” She threw the envelope at her mother. She caught the edge of it, and the cards tipped over and onto the floor. Photos slid out of several of them. Photos! Aunt Beverly had sent her photos. “You sent every one of them back,” Ava said, staring at the mess on the floor. “These were for me.”
Gretchen too stared at the photos and cards. “She was poison.”
“And you weren’t?”
Her mother gasped. Ava didn’t mean to say it. But she couldn’t take it back. It had been too long, boiling inside her, everything she’d never said. “I loved you more than anyone else in the world,” Gretchen said.
“You blamed me.”
“For what? I blamed you for what?”
“For Daddy’s death.”
“Please don’t start this again.”
“ ‘What did you DO, Ava? What did you DO?’ ”
“I was in shock. My husband was lying dead in the street. I was in shock.”
“But I believed you. Don’t you get it? I thought I had caused it somehow.”
“That’s not logical.”
“Gretchen,” Diana said. “I think you need to listen.”
“I spent years replaying that night. Years. Figuring out what I could have done differently. Said, ‘No, Daddy, I don’t want to dance.’ So many years. Torturing myself with what I could have said or thought differently so that my father wouldn’t end up dead and my mother wouldn’t end up blaming me. I couldn’t stop replaying the worst day of my entire life over and
over and over again. And you watched me. And you never once truly looked me in the eyes and tried to convince me it wasn’t my fault. You’ve never even said you were sorry for doing that to me.”
“You were a child. You were in shock. You’re not remembering it clearly.”
Ava looked at Diana, who was suddenly inspecting a spot on the wall. “Now would be the time to step in with some therapeutic advice,” Ava said.
“Is that a camera?” Diana said.
Gretchen and Ava turned to the wall where Cats used to be. A little red light stared back at them.
“Holy shit,” Ava said. She approached. It was duct-taped to the wall. A little recording device.
“We’re on film?” Gretchen said.
“Oh, God,” Ava said. Big Ben. Big Ben. Big Ben. Who had done this? Hillary? Queenie? Definitely not Jasper, right? Was someone spying on her 24-7? Ava ripped it off the wall. She threw it to the floor and stomped on it. “We’re going to have to check for more,” she said. Gretchen walked up to Ava and put her hand on her cheek.
“I’ve missed the happy, daring little girl you used to be,” she said.
“I miss her too,” Ava said. “That’s why I’m here, Mom. Not to hurt you. I’m proud of you too. You didn’t crawl into a ball when Daddy died like I did. You took country line dancing. I should have told you how proud of you I was. I know I wasn’t an easy daughter to raise. But you have to see me, now, Mom. Really see me. And you have to look at me and tell me that it was not my fault that Dad had a heart attack and died. That you know there was nothing I did or could have done.”
“I know that, Ava. I do.”
“I need you to say it, Mom.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I need you to say it.”
“You may never get another chance,” Diana told Gretchen. She took off her turtleneck and stood in the living room in her bra.
“Diana, what are you doing?” Ava said.
“I’m changing. You’re changing; now I’m changing. It’s your mother’s turn.”
“There might still be cameras,” Ava said, trying not to look at Diana’s breasts.
“They’ve still got some bounce to them,” Diana said.
Gretchen ran her hands down her sides. She cleared her throat. She looked at Ava. “I’m sorry I blamed you for your father’s death. He had a heart attack. The doctor said there was nothing we could have done to save him. Even if we did CPR. It was too massive. If it hadn’t happened while dancing, it would have happened at the dinner table. Or on his way to bed.” She stepped up to Ava. “You didn’t do anything. And I’m sorry I said that to you. I truly don’t remember, but I just as truly apologize.” Tears welled in Ava’s eyes. She grabbed her mother and held on to her. At first Gretchen was stiff. Then she wrapped her arms around Ava. “You’re my little girl. Maybe I did enable you. I didn’t want another bad thing to happen to my little girl.”
Ava pulled away. She reached up and wiped a tear from her mother’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t handle it better. I’m sorry Aunt Beverly didn’t treat you better. But please, Mom. This is good for me. I need to be here.”
“I know,” Gretchen said.
“You do?” Ava said.
“A mother knows,” Gretchen said. She hugged Ava again. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re both proud of you. But what are we going to tell the judge? I think the only way out of this is to tell him you aren’t capable of doing the things on that list.”
Ava sighed. Her mother wasn’t going to change. People never really did. “I’m only going to say this one last time. I’m either going to finish the list or Queenie is going to get the flat.” Ava picked up her mobile and called Jasper. He answered on the first ring. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
“It’s Saturday. So I’m flexible. You want me to come over?”
“No,” Ava said. “I want you to take me out.”
“Really?” he said. “Where?”
She glanced out the kitchen window and looked into the distance. “How about the Thames?” Ava said.
“Brilliant,” Jasper said. “A walk along the Thames sounds brilliant.” Ava hung up the phone, and lost herself in the moment, thinking of Jasper, imagining holding his hand as they walked along the river. She came out of the daydream to find her mother and Diana staring at her.
“What?”
“Do you always smile like that after you talk to him?” Diana said.
“Yes,” Ava said.
“Interesting,” Diana said. Ava’s mother looked worried.
“What is it?” Ava asked.
“Do you think he knows about the camera?” Gretchen asked.
CHAPTER 35
The next morning, at ten o’clock, Jasper picked her up in a town car driven by a professional driver. Jasper was sitting in the back and ushered her in. The colored dots appeared within seconds, but Ava told herself she was having a disco party for one and who didn’t want that? The minute she slipped in next to him, Jasper took her hands. “I had a million things I wanted to say to you, but they’ve all slipped out of my head.”
“Me too,” Ava said. Jasper scooted over and kissed her. The driver started the car. Looking at Jasper, Ava realized she didn’t care about the list. All Ava wanted to do was make out with Jasper as they drove through the streets of London. And Jasper must have had the same idea, for a few minutes later the car pulled up behind a food cart.
“They have the best enchiladas in town,” Jasper said. “If you like—”
“Love them,” Ava said. Jasper grinned, handed the driver money, and went back to kissing Ava. The driver had to interrupt them about ten minutes later. Soon they had a feast of enchiladas, chips, and guacamole. Jasper pulled a bottle of champagne out of a bucket at his feet. Ava hadn’t even noticed it.
“What are we celebrating?” Ava said.
“You completing the list,” Jasper said. He pulled it out of his pocket. “Look how many you’ve accomplished already.” Ava took the list. Jasper had put a line through the ones she’d accomplished.
Navigate the London Underground (Tube/subway)
Ride the London Eye
“You’re counting the porno for Big Ben and you sitting on the bench instead of me,” Ava said.
“I talked to Queenie. He said you could count them.”
“After he blew up about me losing his lucky charm?”
“Yes,” Jasper said. “After.” Tears came to Ava’s eyes. That was awful big of Queenie. Especially since he really wanted the flat. Was he trying to support her or was he just that convinced she couldn’t do the rest? She was so cynical, but it was hard to believe that he would give up the flat for her. And what if he was the one who planted the camera? Why would he do it and what was he hoping to “catch”? Ava certainly didn’t want to think Jasper had anything to do with it. And she was too afraid to ask him. She was out in London with a handsome man. Who knew if a moment like this would ever come again? She was having an experience. Not reading about it, dreaming about it, or sketching it. She was living it. She’d have to be even more insane than she already was to ruin it.
“There are only four items left on the list, and my driver is headed to the Thames as we speak,” Jasper said. Ava nodded, and Jasper held her hand as the car progressed through the streets. “We can simply find a spot to pull up to next to the Thames,” Jasper said. “Or.”
“Or?”
“There’s a boat we could ride. It will go under Tower Bridge. I think we could technically count that as seeing the Tower of London.”
“I seem to be getting by on a lot of technicalities.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Is it fair? Am I playing by the rules?”
“I think we’ve all come to realize the list wasn’t fair to begin with. We knew Beverly. She was trying to welcome you to the city, not paralyze you.”
That would leave only two more items on the list
. A boat ride along the Thames with Jasper. So romantic. So crowded with people. So nowhere to go if she had an attack. What could she do, jump overboard? Just the thought of all those people staring at her and wondering what was wrong with her was enough to ruin all ideas of the romance of it.
“It’s a good idea,” Ava said. “If we were rich with a private boat.”
“Ah, a high-society girl,” Jasper said.
Ava laughed. “Wouldn’t want you to make that mistake again,” she said with a playful punch to his arm. “No. I just need to make sure that wherever I go, I’m somewhat in control. I don’t want to lose it in front of a boatload of strangers.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think about that.”
“Nor should you,” Ava said. “And I really do love the idea. Someday. But I need to prepare for it.”
“Are you still up for just walking along the Thames?”
“Absolutely.”
“The South Bank walk starts at the Tower Bridge, so we can snap a quick picture in front and cross it off your list.”
“You’re sure I don’t have to go inside?”
“Only if you want to.” Ava nodded. “Do you want to?” Ava shook her head. “Okay. A photo op in front of the Tower will have to do.”
“As long as I’m with you, and I can control when we go back to the car.”
“Of course.”
The driver looked back through the rearview mirror. “I can’t just hang out at the curb waiting for you. I’d get a ticket.”
“What?” He was just going to dump them out near the Tower and disappear. Was that what he was saying?
“No worries,” Jasper said. “It’s a touristy area. We’ll find a taxi whenever we need one. I promise.”
“We’re jammed up at this time of day,” the driver said. “You could wait for hours. Better if you take the Tube or bus home.”
The driver was smiling, clueless that he’d just shot Ava in the chest twice. Tube or bus. Death by Tube? Or death by bus? Was cake even an option this time? “Oh, God,” Ava said. “Maybe we should try this another time.”
“You definitely should if you expect a taxi to be waiting for you like you’re the Queen,” the driver said, wagging his finger at her.