by Holly Jacobs
“You are the least callous person I know,” Audrey assured her. “I do understand what you’re saying. Rationally, I know it all. But emotionally?”
Ava agreed. “I guess I’m able to rationalize it, and while I’ll never forget, I don’t feel the need to live my life trying to repay the universe. The woman was high. She stumbled from between those cars and fell in front of us. Jude couldn’t have avoided her. I’ve seen so many people who had no chances. They were born in poverty—a poverty you can’t fathom. They’ll spend their lives there. They’ll die there. They didn’t have a choice or a chance. But that woman had choices and chances and she squandered them. She let her son go and threw away every opportunity to change.”
Audrey remembered talking about her mom with Ava all those years ago, and Ava had been just as fierce.
Ava grabbed her hand now. “I’m still so upset. That night, that woman’s selfishness changed all of us. It drove a wedge between us and I think the ten years we’ve let her win is more than enough.”
Clinton cleared his throat.
“Oh, Clinton, I’m so sorry,” Ava said, tears filling her eyes. “I...”
“Ava, you didn’t say anything I haven’t thought. My mom loved drugs more than me. And the fact that Audrey still feels guilty is dumb.” He turned to Audrey. “Yeah, I said it. I figure my mother did exactly one good thing for me in her life and that was when she died since she inadvertently brought you into my life. And meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.” He leaned down and hugged her. “Ava’s right. Stop feeling guilty for that night.”
“Maybe my guilt comes from knowing that so many wonderful things came from that one awful moment.”
“Maybe that’s what life’s about. Finding the wonder after the horrible. We both lost the family lottery at birth. But you found Ava and Merrill...and then you found me.”
He grabbed another doughnut and left the room.
“He’s...” Ava paused as if looking for a good description.
“He’s a thirty-year-old trapped in a fifteen-year-old body.”
“Yes,” Ava agreed. “And he’s right.”
“I know he is,” Audrey admitted. “And honestly, I agree with everything you both said.”
“So, about the reunion? The only people I really want to see again are you and Merrill, so if you’re not going...?”
“I will if you will. About Merrill...has she answered any of your phone calls?”
She’d kept in nominal touch with Ava, but it had been years since she’d heard anything at all from Merrill.
Ava shook her head. “No. I still haven’t heard anything.”
“I’m sure she has her reasons,” Audrey said. “Between her career and her husband, I’m sure she’s busy.” It was an excuse she might make for herself. She freely gave it to Merrill. She could understand finding excuses for not seeing old friends.
“Her dad’s been sick,” Ava said. “My dad knows him from the club, and he’s been in and out of the hospital for the past few months.”
“Maybe she’ll be home to visit.” Audrey tried to infuse more optimism than she felt into her voice.
“Maybe,” Ava said, not sounding any more sure about it than Audrey. “So tell me about you and the kids. About work.”
Audrey was thankful to have something to talk about. She filled Ava in on the kids and her life. The more she talked, the easier the words came. Slowly, the awkwardness faded. They were Audrey and Ava again. Two friends who’d always told each other everything. “...the Greenhouse,” she’d just said as Bea walked into the kitchen.
“Hi, Bea,” Ava said. “I’m not sure you remember me.”
Bea bobbled her head so hard Audrey wondered if it might pop off. “You’re the one who goes all over the place. The nurse. Plus you’re an Indian. We drove around Niagara one day and saw the signs for the Seneca Nation and Audrey said that’s what you are.”
“Native American, Bea,” Audrey corrected.
“Sorry. I knew that. I came home and checked the internet for the Senecas. Did you know there’s a high school near here named Seneca?”
“Yes,” Ava said. “We used to play their teams when I was in school.”
“Did you know there are six clans? Three animals, three birds?”
Ava nodded. “I just found out my mother and her mother were part of the hawk clan...”
“So you are, too, ’cause you trace your heritage through your mom.”
“Bea, I think there’s a chance you know more about my heritage than I do.” Ava laughed as she said the words, but underneath the laughter, Audrey could hear the sorrow she must have been feeling about her family.
“Did you know that there are only a few hundred people left who speak the Seneca language? I think that’s sad.”
“Bea, why don’t you find Clinton. Maybe the two of you could go get us some pizzas for lunch?”
“Awesome.” She ran out of the room.
“Sorry about that. Bea was fascinated by the Senecas. She spent a day on the computer and for weeks spouted facts like that. I get it. Sometimes it’s hard to not know where you come from...who you come from.”
Ava nodded and glanced at the box. “And now I know a bit more.” She took a deep breath, then said, “I’m going to go see my grandfather.”
“I’m glad.”
“I knew it before I finished the letters, but I wanted to see you first. I needed someone...” She shrugged.
“Someone who was on your side. I am that. Always.”
“I knew you were. If I do stay in town, will it be too hard to see me?”
“Ava, we were all young and confused. We’re not anymore. I know that. And having you back in my life would be...wonderful.”
She reached across the table and hugged Ava. They both cried.
Willow walked in, looking as if she’d just rolled out of bed. She looked at them both and said, “Honestly, not only do you all get up earlier than any people I’ve ever lived with, but whenever I wake up, there’s always something weird going on.”
Audrey laughed. “Willow, I’d like you to meet one of my oldest friends. Ava, this is Willow.”
Willow sighed. “Nice to meet you, Ava. If I’d known we had company, I’d have put on clothes before I came down.” She was wearing cut-off sweatpants and a cami.
“Really, you look fine,” Ava said. “And Audrey would tell you that your pajamas are more normal than mine.”
Willow looked down at her outfit and said, “Really?”
Audrey looked at Ava. “You still wear them?”
Ava chuckled, nodding.
“Wear what?” Willow asked.
“Old-lady nightgowns,” Audrey said. “Seriously, Merrill and I used to tease her mercilessly. In the winter, they were flannel, long-sleeved, flowered monstrosities that dragged across the floor. In the summer they were sleeveless cotton ones, still covered with flowers.”
“I’ve spent my life sleeping in the midst of wildflowers. I feel it pays homage to my heritage,” Ava said with prim seriousness until both she and Audrey burst out laughing.
Willow rolled her eyes in a way that said quite clearly she thought they were both crazy.
“Ava brought doughnuts,” Audrey said. “And we’re going to order pizza for lunch, in a bit.”
Willow poured a glass of milk, grabbed a couple doughnuts and made her escape.
“Well, there goes my first impression,” Ava said, still laughing. “I can’t believe you brought up the nightgowns. What is she going to think of me now?”
“You brought doughnuts, so I assure you that she thinks highly of you.”
“Yeah, right. She thinks I’m an old lady,” Ava lamented.
“She’s sixteen. She thinks anyone over twenty-one is
an old lady. She thinks I’m old.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Audrey waited a beat, then said, “But she thinks you’re even older.”
Ava snorted.
Audrey cracked up, too. She reached across the table and patted Ava’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me, too. So tell me about...”
For the next two hours they both started countless sentences with those words. So tell me about... And for the first time in ten years, Audrey felt like a piece of the puzzle that was her mixed-up family was back in place.
When she’d first brought Clinton home to live with her, the caseworker had told her about a family who lived in neighboring Whedon. The family there had adopted a bunch of kids, and in addition to birthdays they celebrated homecoming days...the days the children came to live with them.
Audrey had embraced the practice with Clinton and Bea, and next February, she’d have a homecoming day party for Willow.
As she and Ava continued their so-tell-me-abouts she realized that today felt like a homecoming day of sorts.
And she was glad.
Glad to have another part of her life back in place.
* * *
ON WEDNESDAY, WILLOW said, “Okay, you two, you be good for Maggie May.”
She paused, trying to think of what to call them. They were more than just the kids her foster mom took care of. In the few months she’d been at Audrey’s she’d grown closer to Bea and Clinton than any of the kids from her previous placements.
Clinton had an annoyed expression. “Come on, Will, you’re only a year older than me.”
Normally she’d argue with Clinton, but today she was too excited to start a fight. She gave him her best condescending look. “There’s calendar age, and then there’s the age of your soul. I’ve got a much older soul.”
She didn’t wait around for his response. She yelled, “Bye, Maggie May,” and hurried out to the car in the driveway.
“Hi, Austen.” She felt shy.
But then with a big grin he asked, “Are you ready for the glamorous world of cage cleaning?” and she forgot about being shy.
“Buckle up,” he reminded her.
She did without complaint.
“How’s your science and math stuff going?” Austen asked.
They’d been texting a lot and she’d told him about Sawyer’s friend Lucas, who’d been helping her with science. He sent a nightly email with the day’s lesson. And Sawyer had been emailing math stuff.
“It’s almost like being back in school. Only this time, when I have a question, they don’t make me feel dumb. Lucas said that’s what science is all about...asking questions.”
“Yeah, I had this chemistry teacher who was awful,” Austen said. “He basically said to read the book, then fill in the...”
As they talked about good and bad teachers, and classes, Willow realized that her world seemed brighter. Both the online help from Sawyer and Lucas, and today, going to clean out birdcages with a cute guy.
And Audrey and the kids.
For the first time she allowed herself to think that maybe things were going to be better here.
That word—maybe—it felt weighted with another word. A word she’d never felt the need to use before.
Hope.
* * *
AUDREY SMILED AS she stirred the spaghetti sauce. Willow continued her rundown of her first day at the sanctuary punctuated by random bird facts she’d picked up from Austen and the other volunteers.
“Then we cleaned out...” She cut off her sentence and broke into her umpteenth tangent. “Did you know owls’ eyes are fixed in their sockets?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Me, either. Anyway, we cleaned out...”
She jumped back into her story and Audrey was amazed at the transformation in Willow. The sullen, quiet girl who’d shown up at her doorstep in February had given way to a bright, enthusiastic girl who was bubbling over with happiness.
“...and then Mr. Stone said I could come back again. I told him I had responsibilities on Mondays and I didn’t drive so it would be hard to get back and forth.”
“Willow, I’d drive you.” It might take some juggling, but Audrey would manage.
“I figured you would, but you’re busy and have the other kids. I worked it out with Austen. If you say okay, I’ll volunteer on Wednesdays and Fridays with him. He’ll drive me, and I’ll pay for half his gas. I have the money from Mrs. Wilson’s yard and...”
“Wait, so you’re paying money to volunteer?” Clinton asked as he walked into the kitchen.
Before Audrey could stand up for Willow or commend her, Willow scoffed at Clinton. “Yeah, I know. No one in this house could possibly fathom someone spending their own time and money on a good cause. I mean, Audrey didn’t spend all that time going over her Greenhouse proposal, basically begging to be allowed to work on it for no pay, and you didn’t go over it with her and make suggestions on how to get the schoolkids into it. And then she didn’t take us all over to start clearing up the empty lot—something you asked to do, Clinton, but probably not because you want to help but because you like digging through decades of trash. And might I add that you wouldn’t know anything about taking a younger kid under your wing at your last home and then convincing Audrey she should have her come live with you both. Yeah, Clint, you’re a miserly sort of person who would never consider volunteering or giving back.”
He had the grace to blush. “When you say it like that, I sound amazing.”
Willow snorted. “Yeah, don’t let it go to your head. You’re still a pain in the a...”
“Willow,” Audrey interrupted.
Willow grinned. “Well, you know what I mean.”
Clinton laughed and walked away.
Willow lowered her voice and said, “Don’t tell him I said so, but he is a bit amazing.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Audrey told her.
“So does that all sound okay to you? Austen said if I like it, I can ride out with him after school in the fall, too. He still volunteers during the school year. I promise I’d keep up on my schoolwork. I intend to ace every class this year.”
It was the first Audrey had heard about that, but it sounded like a fine plan. As a junior, Willow had to start thinking about colleges. “You seem to have it all worked out perfectly. Of course you can go.”
“Thanks, Aud.” Willow paused, then sat on the stool. “Can I ask you something?”
“You know you can.”
“Are you and Sawyer a thing?”
“What kind of thing?” Audrey asked in order to stall. She had a strict no-lying policy for the kids and for herself, and yet she wasn’t ready to tell them that Sawyer was...
Well, she couldn’t tell them what she was doing with Sawyer because she wasn’t sure herself. All she knew was that when she was with him, she was happy.
“You know, are you two dating?” Willow asked.
“Yes. Yes, I guess we are. Is that okay with you?” She wasn’t sure why she asked. Even if Willow said it wasn’t okay with her, Audrey wasn’t sure she’d stop seeing him.
She stirred the sauce again, more to give herself something to do than because it needed it.
Willow nodded. “I think it’s good. He’s a nice guy.”
She breathed a little sigh of relief. “I think he’s a nice guy, too.”
“And about your friend,” Willow said.
“Ava?” she supplied.
“Yeah, her. Is everything okay? I mean, she seemed nice and everything, but you’ve had nightmares the past three nights. You’ve had them since I came here, but not so many as lately. Clinton said not to ask you any more questions about Ava and the nightmares.”
“But you’re
asking,” Audrey said.
Willow nodded. “I think sometimes things are easier if you talk about them.”
“What about you? Is there anything you want to talk about?” Audrey countered.
“No. I just talked to you about volunteering and everything.”
Audrey held Willow’s gaze a moment. She’d gotten much better at sharing things with Audrey, but she’d never shared what really happened at Sawyer’s.
Willow looked away and Audrey didn’t push. Instead, she answered Willow’s question. “I was in an accident with Ava and another friend, Merrill, and Merrill’s boyfriend, Jude. He was driving and we were acting crazy. Giddy at the thought of graduating the next day. It was dark and rainy that night. Suddenly, there was this woman standing in front of the car.” She still remembered how happy they’d all been. One minute so full of a sense of possibility. The next, everything changed. “We hit her.”
For a second, Willow didn’t say anything. Neither did Audrey.
“Was she okay?”
The tears filled her eyes. “No. No, she wasn’t okay.”
And just like every other time she thought of that day, she was back in that moment. They’d all got out of the car. Ava called out, “Don’t move her.” Then they saw her and they knew that moving her wouldn’t matter. Nothing would ever matter to her again.
And then Jude had said...
She shook her head and concentrated on Willow. “She died. Later, the coroner said she died instantly. She didn’t suffer. He said it as if it made it easier. It didn’t.”
“Did you guys get in trouble?” Willow asked.
“No.” Audrey had often thought that maybe if they had, she could have let go of some of the pain.
Willow was part of the family and had a right to know the truth. Audrey’s voice was barely above a whisper as she forced herself to continue. “They said it wasn’t our fault. The woman was drunk. Very drunk and high. She walked out in front of us. There was nothing we could do. But...”
“But that doesn’t stop you from feeling guilty.”
Audrey nodded.
“And seeing Ava made it worse.” Willow looked fierce.